"All it takes is one bad day."
My world will pull from various interpretations of Joker and Harley. I'm rewriting their story as I see fit for my creative process. I can respect if you disagree or do not like my concepts - please just find another story and allow those who are enjoying my ideas, to just do so.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters - I am simply playing with concepts and enjoying my creative world.
The sound of her heels filled the empty hall. Arkham Asylum; home to Gotham's worst crazies and now to her, the start of a bright career. Unlike the dozens of others who worked at Arkham, she was different; from the moment she applied, she had one interest -the clown prince himself - The Joker. It had taken months of convincing the board that she was more than capable of taking him on as her first client - ever. It was only once she recited his entire criminal record from the start to his current stint in Arkham. It was clear - she studied him. Her plan was simple; crack the clown, write a book, be famous. As she approached the end of the hall, two guards were holding machine guns as they stood post.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Quinzel." She smiled at the short guard. His cheeks were flushed as he looked over the woman before him. She commanded attention with her beauty - bleach blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes, and her skin looked like it was made of silk. The black pencil skirt she wore, hugged her hips. Her red silk buttoned blouse hinted at the swells of her breast. But the glasses - that sealed the deal. It gave her look an overall polished edge.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Please see to it that my session goes uninterrupted." They both nodded as she walked past them, opening the door to the therapy room. As the door shut behind her, the room suddenly became menacingly dark, except for the lamp on her desk that highlight just enough of her patient's outline.
"Mr. Joker?" She walked towards the man who was still in a straightjacket. He tilted his head, his lime green hair falling to the side as he did. "I'm Dr. Quinzel." A small chuckle left his throat.
"Dr...Quinzelllll." She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. His voice was both haunting and somehow alluring. "Dr. Harleen Francis Quinzel. Age….24 - 25 in a week!" A low chuckle slipped from his mouth.
"I'm impressed, but not surprised." As she walked in front of him, he finally turned to look at her. As his eyes moved from her feet, slowly up her legs, continuing to drink her in like a dying man in the desert. "I was told to expect anything from you." Finally, his eyes lifted towards hers, and in that moment, she felt herself freeze. His eyes spoke on their own - whispering madness and delight as the corners of his mouth curled into a grin.
"I don't doubt, but no one warned me about you." She couldn't help but smile a bit as she sat down in front of him. He leaned forward, head tilted like a curious dog. She could see his face clearly now. 'His photos didn't do him justice' she thought for a moment. Despite his milky skin, green hair and crimson lips - he was beautiful. She felt her cheeks tint.
"I was also told that you can be quite charming when you want something." He cackled, throwing his head back. The sudden outburst of laughter only broadened her smile.
"Well, Doc, I guess it depends on who ya ask." He was once against leaned forward, eyes narrowed onto her with a grin that caused her stomach to knot.
"I'm asking you, Joker." The left corner of his mouth tugged higher. He enjoyed toying with his psychiatrists. They'd each come in, clipboard in hand, ready to 'crack' him open and before the session ended, they'd be stricken with fear. But this woman - she was different and he could sense that.
"Well, I am a man who gets what he wants." He flashed his teeth at her as to emphasize his words. She narrowed her eyes at him, studying his face, finding her eyes always falling back to his lips.
"And what is it you want?" The way his face twisted in response made her wonder if her tone was too...flirty? She swallowed the lump of sudden nervousness in her throat and finally sat in the chair across from the madman, her legs crossed. His eyes fell to her legs, slowly crawling up to meet her gaze. He played with the idea of teasing her, making her uncomfortable by being suggestive, but instead, he chose to lean back.
"Why don't you tell me. You're the Psych, after all, it's your job to figure that out." Harleen found herself suddenly feeling frustrated, but not in an angry way. Instead, she felt more...taunted. As if his hands had teased her flesh and right before she could enjoy it, he stopped. She wasn't sure what it was about him, but it seemed like her body had a mind of its own.
"I'm not your enemy, Joker. I'm sure you've heard this a million times before and clearly - it hasn't worked. So, I'm willing to try something a little different." His ears perked, he leaned forward, almost pressing his chest to his knees.
"Alright, you have my attention." He smiled. Ugh, that smile. How could someone so insane smile like that? Whenever he smiled, she couldn't help but smile also. Joker noticed this and it only widened his grin.
"I want you to tell me about yourself however you wish. You can start wherever with whatever. I just want to listen." She hadn't realized til he sat up a little, she had leaned forward some herself and she was suddenly aware as his eyes looked at her lips then returned to her face.
"Alright...but I'd greatly appreciate it if I could do so more...freely." He lifted his restrained arms, suggesting the straight jackets removal. She looked him over, thinking about it. It was technically against policy, but Dr. Arkham did say she could treat her patient as she felt necessary.
"Alright, Joker. You seem like a man of honesty; will you promise not to hurt me or do anything stupid?" As she heard herself asking, she found her mind yelling at her; was she crazy? This was the Joker. Not only was he insane, but the man also had no regard to human life. - everything was just one big joke to him.
"Scout's honor." He dragged his words, like a blade across her throat with just enough pressure. She bit her lower lip for a moment before standing. As he mirrored her, she quickly found out he was taller than her. In the chair, he had seemed so small. As she closed the space between them, she could feel her heartbeat picking up, she moved behind him, and after a jingle or two, he stretched his arms forward. "Ahh, that is good." A few more snaps and the jacket fell from him. What she hadn't expected was his bare skin. Most of the patients wore shirts under their restraints - he did not. She moved back to her chair, her eyes drinking him in. She studied every tattoo as she stretched before sitting back in his chair. "I must say, doc, you surprise me. That's very rare." He grinned as she sat back down, crossing her legs at the ankles, her body language speaking its own dialect, foreign to her.
"Well, Mr. Joker, you assured me you will be on your best behavior. You've given me no reason to think you're a liar. In fact, if there's anything you seem to be, it's honest." Joker cocked a half grin as she pulled out a recorder and set it on the table. "Would you be opposed to me recording our sessions?" Finally, his grin captured his entire mouth.
"Not at all, Dr. Quinzel. In fact, I think it's pretty kinky." He watched as her already blushed cheeks grew in saturation. She cleared her throat nervously as she smiled softly. "Ya know, I gotta say, I don't think I've ever come across a name quite like yours. Harleen Quinzel…" Her legs tightened as he spoke her name - never had it sounded so good to her ears. "It sounds a lot like Ha-"
"Harlequin - I know." His smile broadened, but hers did not. It was clear to him that she wasn't amused in the slightest. His smile softened a bit as he narrowed his eyes at her before standing up unexpectedly, he threw his arms up in an 'i give up' manner.
"Alright then, how about Harley?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Like the bike…" He chuckled as he walked toward the window - it had bars but at least it had a view of Gotham. He missed it. Longed for it. His city still needed to be painted red.
"Yes. Like your bike." She couldn't help hide her widening eyes. Again, he chuckled as he threw her a glance over his shoulder. "It's almost too good. Harleen riding a Harley." He saw her smirk for a moment before forcing her composure. "I'm jealous…" He turned to look at her fully, a grin on his face - but not one of malice or lunacy but one of suggestion and flirtation. "I'd love to ride a Harley." His voice was lowered, a slight growl to it. The kind of growl a lion would have while watching its helpless prey before devouring it. Something in groin seemed to respond to his words and she felt herself become flustered.
"Tell me, Mr. Joker, wh-"
"Please, call me J."
"Alright, Mr. J" His lips curled in approval. She felt her palms becoming a bit sticky. "Why do you go out of your way to learn about your psychiatrists prior to meeting them? What are you preparing yourself for?" He theatrically looked up as if to think.
"I dunno, Doc. Why do you read one's previous perception of me rather than meet me with no expectations?" She glared at him. "Lemme guess, job requirements, yadda yadda yadda. School taught you this and that." He stepped towards her, a growing smile on his pale face. "School didn't teach you everything, dear."
"No one suggested so. You still didn't answer my question." He frowned for a moment as he moved back to the window.
"Curiosity, I suppose. What kind of person wants to meet me."
"Who said I wanted to have you as my patient?" He looked at her and grinned. Somehow he knew that she had begged Dr. Arkham for him as her patient. She needed him. He was her meal ticket.
"Don't insult me doll. You want me to be honest? You must give it to get it." She stood quietly for a moment, wondering if it would be smart or not to confirm it.
"Alright, fine. Yes, I did request your case."
"Why? And try to be honest." She gritted her teeth for a moment. This man had a way of getting under her skin - and it was only the first session.
"Who wouldn't want your case?" Her tone switched, there was almost like a spark to it. Her heart began to pick up, stuttering in its rhythm. "Mr. J, you're Gotham's most notorious criminal and no offense, insane."
"None taken. Now be that as it is, we both know I'm also known for much worse." She felt her insides twitch at the growl in his throat. She did, in fact, know he was more than insane. "I imagine cracking the Joker would make for a good read, huh doll?" She swallowed. Of course, he knew.
"Fine, yes. I think the world should know your perspective of it." He grinned, turning his slender body towards her. Slowly, he walked toward her, each step slow and agonizing.
"What do you think I'm doing, Doc? I'm trying to show the world the joke it is. Trying to...make everyone smile." He was inches from her now, towering over her like an impending nightmare. He placed a hand on each side of her chair and leaned down, bringing his nose but an inch or two from hers. "You know Doc….I think I like you. You're...different." Again, she swallowed, her lips slightly shaky from both fear and desire.
"What makes me so different?" She was surprised she was able to keep her voice so structured because trust me, if there was anything her body wasn't right now - it was under some sort of spell. Like a piece of metal cause in a magnetic field; whether or not she wanted it - she was pulled to him. He saw the involuntary biting of her lower lip as her eyes fell to his. He curled his crimson lips into a smile, purposely lowering his tone further.
"Just somethin' in your eyes, kid." She felt her body leaning up, she knew she shouldn't but her body wasn't up for negotiating. As she felt her lips faintly brush the satiny skin of his, a knock on the door shattered her pull. She gasped as if coming up for air for the first time. Joker suppressed a growl in his throat as he stepped back from her, sulking back to the window.
"Uh, Come in!." Harley stood up on her feet, her knees still wobbly from the haze of feeling his breath caress her mouth for only a second. The door cracked open and a guard poked his head in.
"Just checking in on you, Dr. Quinzel." The guard's eyes moved to Joker, who was unrestrained. His eyes widened as he burst in, withdrawing his stun gun and pointing it in Joker's direction. Harleen's eyes flew open as she put herself in the path of the gun. "Lady, what the hell are you doing?! That's the fucking Joker."
"I am well aware of who my patient is and I have complete autonomy. If you have an issue with it, I suggest you take it up with Dr. Arkham. I'm sure he would love an unqualified, overpaid rent-a-cop implying that his judgment is questionable." The guard suddenly felt as small as an ant. Joker watched on, his smile ever so wide. He was right - she was different. She somehow could be both alluring and deadly. He thought for a moment - indeed, she could be an interesting addition to his act. After all, what's a good comedy show without an assistant?
"I-i-i'm sorry, Dr." The guard tucked his gun away while his eyes fell to the ground.
"Yes, you are. Now, if you'll excuse me - you're eating into my patient's time and if you recall correctly, I had asked not to be disturbed and yet, here you are." The guard moved quickly and quietly as he left the room. As the door clicked shut, Joker busted out in a roaring laugh.
"Well aren't you a spicy one?" He chuckled as she turned to him, the smile on her face reminded him of a smug child who was well aware of their skills - yet still, sought appraisal. He chuckled as he watched her smile - her eyes lit up anytime he even hinted at a compliment. "I knew I was right about you."