Ok so I'm half awake again and just had a new story floating around in my head so I had to start it. Will finish my other one too. This one is less pornographic than my other one LOL. I know a little about the comics, but this is my OWN version of Harley and the Joker and his past. Oh and she doesn't have her accent in this. That's why she sais "Mister" instead of "Mistah." She's my own version of Harley. I have his vivid past floating in my head lol. Anyway Read and review if you like! Will get violent and such later.
...
The dark clouds hovered over Arkham asylum almost menacingly. If one's imagination were to run away with them they might think the medieval looking structure was attracting them to itself. This is what young Harleen Quinzel thought to herself as she was dropped off in front of the medical facility. Her heart thumbed rapidly both from nerves and excitement. A recent graduate of psychiatry, she had landed an internship there.
...
"Are you really sure you want to do this?" Dr. Morgan, current head of Arkham asked the young girl before him in his office.
"Very sure," Harleen responded, with the spirit of a girl scout displaying her 'can do" attitude. "Being able to examine the famous Joker. This would be any intern's dream sir!"
The older man gave her a disapproving look. "Honestly, this is one case I wouldn't recommend to even an experienced veteran let alone a beginner."
"Sir. I can do this. Trust me. Besides, this is a maximum security facility is it not? It's not like he can really hurt me!" Harleen responded with all the enthusiasm she could muster.
"Have you any idea who this man is?" Dr. Morgan leaned forward on his desk and looked at her seriously. "Miss Quinzel. By law I can't really tell you no. After all you did volunteer for the job, so I can't stop you. However, I advice you to be on the air of caution. This man, inmate number 2785 is no ordinary nutcase. He's a certified genius according to the Arkham I.Q test and what we know of his past antics. We don't even know this man's history. He has no name, no social security number, no records to speak of. All we know is of what he's capable of. Again, I can't stop you, but I will still beg you to reconsider."
Harleen's facial expressions were like a child's who was about to visit Santa Claus. "I have studied him very closely sir. I've read all about his crimes. I just find the psychology fascinating. I'm surprised no one has written a book about him yet. That's one reason I'd love to try and get into his head. I'd love to write a book about my experience!" She spoke cheerily.
Dr. Morgan continued to eye her seriously. "Just so you know, you're the only volunteer we've gotten whose so eager to speak to this maniac. Like I said. This man is a genius. I'm not sure of everything he's actually said to my Doctor's who have tried examining him, but they always seem to look unsettled after a session with him. These are professionals who have studied the criminally insane for years and he manages to mess with their heads. He is a diabolical genius and you seem like such a sweet girl Miss Harleen. I don't want him getting into your head. He's a master of manipulation. You have no idea what he's capable of."
"I'm aware of who I'm dealing with Dr. Morgan. I know what I'm getting myself into and I'm still eager to take on this challenge," Responded Harleen.
Dr. Morgan sighed. He didn't really like the feeling of letting such a young innocent and pretty girl near a psychopath like the Joker. "Well, he's been well behaved for the past month. But just so you know, when we first brought him in here, he nearly strangled a security guard to death with his own cuffs. He stabbed another in the neck with a pen he snatched from the guard's pocket, and he somehow managed to strip and hogtie several other guards with their own clothing. I guess what I'm trying to say is, this is a man who could turn a feather into a weapon. I advise you to leave anything you have behind, before you enter his cell. Even a rubber hair band. Anything." He warned her. "I was against even letting him have his card deck, but one of the doctors recommended he have them to amuse himself, and hopefully distract him somewhat from his destructive thoughts. Now that you know all this going in, I wish you the best of luck Miss Quinzel."
...
A security guard escorted Harleen down the dimly lit corridors of the asylum. Their footsteps echoed down the hallways along with faint screams, laughter and shouts coming from the patients in their cells. The atmosphere was picture perfect to a horror movie with a row of ceiling lamps lighting their way casting unnerving shadows down the hallway. This place gave Harleen chills, but it was that fear and excitement that drew her there in the first place.
When they had finally reached the maximum security units, the guard escorted her to a large steel door at the end of a hall. The guard turned to Harleen, and even he looked unnerved. She could see it in his eyes. One would think he'd be used to it by now. After all, it was his job. "He's in there waiting for his therapy session. He's expecting you…well someone anyway. He seems to enjoy scaring all of his psychiatrists off, so be forewarned. Although he's been rather polite lately. He doesn't really like it when we shoot him up with the old happy juice so that could be why. I still wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. You're a brave young woman."
The guard pulled out the key chain, hesitantly. He looked at her and sighed and he was about to say one more thing, when Harleen cut him off. "Yes I want to do this," she said quickly. "I'm really not a helpless little girl. I'll be fine."
The guard nodded, but she could see the worry in his face. He opened the door to the cell.
Harleen entered the padded cell. "He's all yours for now," the guard informed her. "Don't worry. All rooms are monitored closely. So you're safe if he tries anything." The large steel door creaked shut with a loud bang, and she was left in the room alone with him. In the middle of the room stood a table and an empty chair, and on the other side of the table facing her a man sat, shuffling cards in his fingers. He was lost in thought, and a permanent 'smile' scarred his otherwise handsome face.
His wrists were cuffed together and his ankle was cuffed to the leg of the table which seemed to be bolted to the floor. So this was the famous Joker, up close and personal. This is what she had been anticipating for months. His head remained down and his eyes were hidden under a mop of unruly brown curls. Harleen swallowed hard, and walked over to the empty chair. His eyes diverted upward and he glared at her for the first time. They were hazel, and cold as ice. "Well hello there," he spoke in a low and foreboding voice.
"Hello Mister J," Harleen smiled politely, and sat down across from him. "How are you this evening?"
"Is it evening? My cell doesn't have windows so I don't get the pleasure of knowing the time," he continued to Shuffle the cards in his hands as he glared at her. "Quite a young little thing aren't you? I don't remember putting in a request for a play date. They are being quite generous with patient's good behavior these days. And to think I was thrilled when they let me have my card deck." He smirked. "So what awful thing did you do for them to lock you in a cell with me?" He gestured.
Harleen kept her pleasant smile. "Actually Mister J, I'm Harleen Quinzel the newest psychiatrist here. And I'm really not as young as I look. I get asked how old I am all the time!"
"Ah fresh meat," said the Joker. "Send the newest naïve little employee in with the 'monster' of the house. How noble of them." He gave her a look and it was almost a half sneer, half smirk. "Not that I'm complaining. At least I have eye candy while I'm stuck in this hole. But you do look young. And how old might you be?"
Harleen could feel herself blush. "Mister J, a lady never tells her age! And this is actually my first internship job."
The Joker noticed her blushing and he could tell there was a naïve innocence about her. "Ah of course. Interns always get fed to the dogs first. They get the jobs no one else wants to take. Poor little thing. And what urged you to come to this marvelous place?"
Harleen shrugged off his comment. "Well, we're here to talk about you Mister J." she said, still overly polite and upbeat. The Joker was intrigued with her mannerisms. He wasn't used to girls of her nature being so comfortable around him. He could sense fear, and she didn't seem to have much fear at the moment.
"Me?" The Joker placed a hand on his chest. "I'm a guy who believes actions speak louder than words," he snickered. "It seems that most people don't agree, so now here I am. This whole towns a buzz kill." He continued to play with his cards. "By the way, where's Doctor Parnes? On our last little session we were just getting into the good stuff. How to successfully sew a bomb into a man's stomach as well as various other areas of the body. He seemed genuinely interested. And now he doesn't show up. I'm hurt. I guess he was sending false signals." The Joker cackled his very distinctive cackle, one Harleen had heard on the news before. It had sent chills up her spine, but also inspired an odd fascination.
"Well, looks like you'll just have to continue that conversation with me Mister J." Harleen responded. "I volunteered to take this job. We can talk about whatever you want." She was proud of herself. She was already handling this well. She didn't show an ounce of fear so far. Even the Joker was impressed by the brave blond little stick figure. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.
"I prefer having a cute little blond around anyway. They won't even let me have girly magazines for Christ's sake." Smirked the Joker. "I suppose they're afraid I'd fashion them into a bomb. Though I have yet to figure out how to turn these cards into explosives. I suppose I could give nasty paper cuts with them. Or fold them up and jam them into a man's eye socket. So many fun ideas. But then what would I do without my cards? I'd be far too bored. And they wouldn't like me bored."
The Joker searched Harleen's face for any type of reaction. Usually his mere presence made any man cringe. Most women wouldn't even go near him. All of his previous doctors so far had been men. They were very cautious about letting females near him. The Joker didn't quite understand this. Most of his up close and personal victims had been male. He treated the men far different than the women. Unbeknownst to most, deep down, even the Joker had standards. He considered himself to be a higher class of criminal. Harleen just sat there unmoved, and listening to his every word intently. The Joker looked at her curiously. "So tell me Miss Harleen Quin-zel," The Joker licked his lips and spoke in his unusual drawl. "How did a cheerleader get into psychology, hmm? You definitely do not appear to be the type. Now, which professor did you seduce in order to graduate, hmm?"
Harleen laughed quietly, and fidgeted in her seat a little. Her body language told the Joker that perhaps what he spoke of wasn't far from the truth. "Looks can be deceiving Mr. J. With all do respect, you don't have the look of a homicidal maniac either."
The Joker cackled again. "That's because they won't let me have my face. I'm not sure why. I suppose they think face paint is dangerous as well. Maybe they think I'd make the guard swallow it until he choked." He laughed. "I can tell you I'm suffering an identity crises in here. These so called garments they have me draped in are clearly unflattering, and I hardly ever have my face undone. It's just who I am. I'm usually a very well dressed gentleman especially in the presence of a lady. I do apologize for my poor attire my lovely Miss Quin-zel." The Joker said almost mockingly and snickered.
"Well I think you look just fine without it Mister J." Harleen spoke, keeping her pleasant demeanor. "Now we only have an hour here. So what would you like to talk about? I'm fascinated to know why you do what you do. Perhaps we should start with your past?"
The Joker laughed harder than she had heard him laugh yet. "Ok now your inexperience is starting to show sweetie pie. You sound like a cliché psychiatrist from television. That is, from the little of television I've seen. Mindless brain washing box that is. And about my past, which one would you like to hear? It's multiple choice." He shuffled the cards back and fourth in his hands like a professional.
Harleen felt herself blush again, but she still held strong. "As I said Mister J, this is my first time, but I don't think I'm doing too badly if I do say so myself! And as for your past, you can reveal to me whatever you feel comfortable with. Though I would like your true past, whatever that may be!"
The Joker smiled at her. His smile seemed devious, but all his smiles appeared devious even if it was meant to be friendly. "Your eagerness and innocent nature is almost cute. Or it could be the fact that I haven't seen a woman in months." He snickered. "But rather than bore you with my life stories," He did some impressive shuffling tricks with the cards in his hands. He clearly knew his way around a deck of cards. "How about some magic tricks instead?" He spread the cards out before her, putting on his charm. "Pick a card, any card."
Harleen hesitated. "Only if you talk to me a little bit first."
"There's nothing to talk about," The Joker snapped, making Harleen jump inside. "Pick a card." He ordered.
"Mister J," Harleen began.
"Come now Miss Quinzel, I'd rather kill this hour with a little fun wouldn't you? Pick a card and they maybe I'll give you a little info on sewing bombs into people as I can see you're clearly interested." He giggled. "But be a good girl first and pick a card."
Harleen hesitated again for a moment, but she cautiously picked a card quickly, not wanting to get too close incase he tried anything. The Joker grinned. "Good girl. Now remember it, don't tell me what it is and place it back in the deck." Harleen nodded and smiled at him, not wanting to upset him. She remembered her card then placed it back in the pile. The Joker, still grinning at her, shuffled the cards. "Now let's find little miss Harleen Quin-zel's card." He began showing her cards. "Is this your card?" She giggled and shook her head no. He tossed it aside and showed her another. "This one?" She shook her head again.
"Humor me here girl," he joked with her and she laughed. "Ah, I know. I believe I dropped your card. Look down. Under the table." She looked at him suspiciously but glanced under the table. He had a card under his shoe and he kicked it over to her. She picked it up and looked at it. "There, is that it?" he smirked.
Harleen nodded with a smile. "Jack of spades. You got it Mister J. Impressive! Where did you learn that?" She slid his card back to him on the table.
The Joker chuckled. "Not very impressive. That's one of my simplest tricks. But not much you can do when you're chained to a desk. I have many though. How about another?"
"I'd actually rather have a little chat Mister J." Said Harleen.
"All you want to do is talk. Isn't that just like a female," He snickered.
"How about a I put in a request for your makeup? Er, I mean your 'face.' If you tell me a little bit, just a little teeny bit about your past, I'm sure I can get it for you," Smiled Harleen. "And maybe your beloved purple suit too!"
The Joker grinned wider. "Oh now we're talking. Bribery huh? A little manipulator, I can tell. I like that. I could give you a little taste. Only because you remind me a little of…someone. But you gotta promise me you'll be good on your word."