I have been told, on more than one occasion, that those who seek to join the psychiatric profession, do so because they themselves are quite disturbed.

When I first began this job, I didn't believe it. Sure I'd lived through some tough situations, felt neglected, and done things some might call wicked, but who hasn't? It is my professional opinion that every person on this planet is sick is some fashion.

And I can say that, I'm a doctor.

I never get tired of that joke. Really, it makes me smile. Sometimes I think the world has forgotten how to laugh, but I can't prescribe a sense of humor. My hope is that one day someone or something will come along and remind us all that a good joke can brighten up the darkest day.

I don't really count on it though.

"Roll call, new charts today, boys and girls. Who's excited?" Joan Leland, monotoned from the front of the employee's lounge. Since our head nurse, Cathleen Filligiri had called in dead a week ago, (the old bat had had a misunderstanding between her left lung and a 6 inch blade) Leland had jumped to take on the responsibility in an attempt to gain notice. After Dr. Crane had flipped his pretty head and ended up a patient, then helped in the release of all his new friends, the budget had been pretty tight. Arkham had been called unfit to perform its service. How could we be expected to care for our patients when our doctors couldn't be trusted? Now that we were starting to gain back a little of our former reputation, everyone was eyeing the big office and the P word was on everyone's lips. Not to mention the fact that everyone with a checkbook to burn was sending in donations to up security for our newest and most famous member. With one high-profile patient, we had gone from the newest dirty slang word on the street, to loved and respected again.

Funny how the herd turned so quickly.

"…Alyce, you've got Zsasz now." Joan frowned at her charts and flipped to the next page. Meanwhile I was doing my best not to cause a scene.

Alyce Sinner had my patient. Who had given her the right to treat my patients? What was going on here?

"That's odd, I thought…"but Joan trailed off to stare at whatever sheet she'd been looking for. Her angry eyes snapped to me then back to the chart, then again and she cleared her throat. Anyone else paying attention saw her pull back on the plastic smile she used to seem professional and friendly.

"Well, let's get to it everyone. Let's all have a good day today."

There was a murmured chorus of "yeah" and "sures" and then the thin, severe woman was marching over to me, clasping her charts to her chest and smiling tightly.

"Harleen, do you mind coming with me? There seems to be a mistake with the assignments this week."

For a moment, I couldn't respond, too focused on the thin little lines around her eyes and mouth that said she'd been forcing that friendly face for a long time. She looked tired, but I wouldn't say that to her face.

"Why was Dr. Sinner given my case?" I asked, standing to follow her out into the hallway, "I realize I'm no veteran here at Arkham, but I've been making progress with Victor, if you take him now all of that might be stripped away. He trusts me, Dr, Leland."

Joan stopped outside the last office in the hallway, that of our director, and tilted her head at me.

"You're on a first name basis with him?" Somehow she made the remark sound snotty and disapproving. I felt and squashed the need to defend myself to the tiny bitch though, seeing as we were right outside the boss's office.

Turning on her obnoxious, little white clacky heels, Joan opened the door and marched right up to Jeremiah Arkham's desk. The poor man jumped when she slapped down her chart and pointed at something printed on it.

"There's been a mistake." She said shortly.

Arkham's eyes lifted to me as I quietly followed her in and closed the door. I probably looked confused because he offered a smile and motioned for me to take a seat. Arkham had inherited the asylum when his father had died 3 years ago, but it didn't mean anyone really trusted him with the institution. He was too young, if you could call the ass end of 30 young, and too impulsive. It was, however why we had gotten along so well. We were both doubted for our age and appearance. On good days, I liked Jeremiah.

"Good morning, Dr. Leland, Dr. Quinzel."

I gave my warmest smile, and didn't I feel like a hypocrite because it was just as fake as Joan's.

"Jeremiah." I replied in greeting. Joan pursed her lips at my lack of formality, but didn't remark.

"What seems to be the problem?" the director asked, steepling his fingers.

"Did you read the name there?" Joan asked, the irritation thick in her nasally voice, "I realize she's done good work since starting here, really dear, you have," she touched my shoulder and I resisted smacking it away, "But you can't expect her to handle Him. A more qualified doctor should-"

"You're right, Dr." Arkham interrupted, turning to smile at me, "She has proven herself to be quite capable. First with her work on Mortimer Drake, then she showed us her fearlessness with Aaron Helzinger…"

"He has the brain capacity of a walnut, Sir I hardly think-"

"And now" Arkham interrupted Joan smoothly, "She has gained the cooperation of known serial killer Victor Zsasz. I must admit I am curious to see what she will do with this new challenge."

"Challenge?" I asked, crossing my legs at the knee and smiling encouragingly. I can't say I wasn't interested in whoever he'd assigned me to.

"He's had 5 separate doctors since his incarceration, sir, do you really think Harleen is up for this?"

Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, bitch. The way she said my name made me want to reach over and rip off her faux friendly face, but I gripped the arms of my chair with white knuckles instead. There was no reason Arkham should see me in anything but a professional light.

"Why don't we let Dr. Quinzel decide, hmm?" With a charming smile, he turned the clipboard around and pushed it toward me so I could read the form.

I don't know what I expected, but it hadn't been this. Not in a million years would I ever…was this a joke? A prank on the new girl, though technically I'd handed off the lovely mantel to Alyce. Whatever the case, Joan had to be right, this was a mistake.

"You're serious?" I asked softly, fighting to mask the building excitement that swelled in my chest. Oh my god, this was the case of a lifetime!

"As a heart attack." Arkham grinned, "It has been decided that you, Dr. Quinzel will treat Alias: The Joker."

My mind spun and the dam broke on my emotions, making me laugh out loud. This was it, the case that would make me the respected psychiatrist I dreamed of being. If I could get the Joker to admit even one tiny scrap of his past, my career would be legitimized. Even if I couldn't cure him, learning anything about the most interesting man in Gotham would mean notoriety and possibly fame. Maybe I'd even write a book!

"Thank you, Jeremiah!" I smiled, for real this time and threw my arms around his neck. "Thank you, thank you!"

I heard the door clatter shut and pulled back to see that Joan had left the room, then shrugged it off. Let her be jealous and angry, I still got the prize. In fact, seeing as they were placing the Joker in my care, it looked like I was the closest to that shiny new promotion now.

"Well, Harley," Arkham laughed, dropping professionalism now that Leland had disappeared. "Do you have any questions?"

"Only one." I smiled, gazing down at the harsh black and white mug shot that served as the Joker's picture. In the image, he still wore his makeup. My red-nailed finger traced the line of his wide smile before I looked back up at my boss.

"How soon can I meet him?"

Hello again, kiddies. I thought I was done, but he just keeps dragging me back, kicking and screaming. This time however, it is with a cannon-like Harley in our wake.

I've played with a Nolan Harley already and had a blast, but now I want to take another shot at a version closer to her original appearance in the cartoon.

Don't worry though, for those who read my work, I plan to be just as violent and demented as I was with Kiddie!Harls, but be aware, This is no two-bit thug who caught a lucky…ish break. I also plan to make her a bit more aggressive than my last Harley. There's just this voice telling me it would be a laugh to have HER seduce HIM…sort of…in a way….You'll see what I mean…

I didn't like the feel of my original attempt at a Nolanized Dr. Quinn, so here is my second go.

THIS STORY may not be very long, I haven't really decided. What I do know, is that I have a direction and a character I'm having fun tweaking. I want to focus on the main points in Harley's budding relationship with the Joker that lead to her falling for him and breaking him out of Arkham, and a bit of what happened after. It's a story about losing your mind, confusion and unexplainable attraction.

Those of you who know me might have guessed that I have no patience to speak of, so don't worry, I will do my best to get to the juicy bits with The Quickness, since they are what I'm most interested in.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I will.

-Calamity