Oneshot 1
Call me J
"Now, Mr. Joker. Your new doctor will be on her way, so be on your best behaviour."
The man sat before the inmate gulped, then continued.
"Her name is Doctor Harleen Quinzell and you may refer to her as Doctor Quinzell, nothing else and nothing more. She is one of the more higher ranked psychiatrists at Arkham and you will treat her with respect, she's going to find her way into that Labyrinth of a mind unpick all the tiny details that make y..."
The Joker wasn't really listening to the man rambling on, he was too focused on what his new Doctor would be like. A shrink, short and speaks with a lisp, dark brown hair cut in a bob, turtleneck sweater leaving almost everything to the imagination? Was that her? He wished not. How plain. How boring. How... Fun? Someone like that would definitely not be the fun type...
Joker was so deep in thought, he had absentmindedly started swaying in his chair, the locks of his straight jacket scraping against the flimsy plastic back, creating a awful racket. He want looking at him, but something in the distance, that obviously pleased him.
He smiled the smile- a smile that could, and has, killed. A smile that was both hideous and enchanting at the same time. Something that drew you in like a light did for a moth, just the moth suffered an easy and quick ending.
Dr. Arkham cleared his throat, clearly disturbed by the menacing actions of the clown.
As Arkham opened his mouth to speak, a shark knock at the door stopped him, and he turned around. Stood at the frame of the door was a young girl, only in her early Twenties, wearing a burgundy v-neck shirt, tight, tight black pencil skirt and the signature Arkham Asylum work jacket. On the bridge of her nose perched a pair of black glasses and her dirty blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, only some hairs framing her face.
In short, she was beautiful. Well, the Joker definitely thought so. He didn't even realise he was staring at her, she was the complete opposite of his image he had etched in his brain.
Dr. Arkham coughed, snapping the Joker out of his dream, and beckoned the young girl over. Under her arm, she carried a dark grey file labeled 'THE JOKER' in clear capitals. This was her. The clown Prince's new doctor. And boy did he know it.
"Well Doctor one, since Doctor two has arrived I believe it is time for me," he nodded down to his chest. He couldn't exactly point, his hands were tied behind his back after all. "And lovely Doctor two here to have our first session," he ended his sentence with an inwards growl, obviously thinking about what she'd look like with something different on... Maybe underwear only? He didn't know yet.
The young girl stepped forwards into the office and nodded at .
"It's okay Dr. I can take over from here. We need to get started." She explained, ignoring the Joker's statement and smiled toward him politely.
Oh he'd have fun messing with this one.
Arkham nodded and stood up sharply. He wasn't very tall, maybe 5'7" , shorter than both of the other people present.
"Oh, well I'd best be going. There's a panic button under the chair if you need it, but you shouldn't." He shot a menacing glare at the clown, who merrily smiled back. "He's fully restrained. The only way he could harm you is with his feet." And ended the sentence with a chuckle.
"Don't encourage me!" Joker quipped back. Arkham gave him a glare and exited the room, shutting the door firmly.
Harleen took a seat, dropping her files on the desk.
She flipped open the laptop and entered her user, accessing all the patient portfolios in one click.
She scrolled down, it was A-Z, until she came to J.
Harleen clicked on "joker"
NAME: UNKNOWN
AGE: ESTIMATED TO BE 30-35 YEARS
PARENTS: UNKNOWN
SPOUSE: UNKNOWN
SIBLINGS: UNKNOWN
And the list continued. All aspects were listed as 'UKNOWN'.
There was only one specified otherwise.
KNOWN ENEMIES: THE BATMAN
Harleen let out a small 'hmph' and scribbled down a few words to start her notes. She glanced up at him. He had shifted himself so he was sat backwards on the chair, the back facing her, legs either side. She wasn't sure how he moved it so quietly. Now, Joker was staring at the ceiling, tapping his foot repeatedly against the concrete floor as if nothing had happened.
Harleen spoke finally, breaking the thick tension that had grown rapidly.
"My name is Doctor Harleen Quinzell, you are to refer to me as Doctor Quinzell. What, may I ask, shall I refer to you as?"
She spoke formally, as if she was in an extraordinarily important interview.
Joker mocked her, he sat up straight, pushed his shoulders back and pursed his lips, but he didn't speak.
Harleen tried a different approach.
"How about just Joker?" She questioned.
He shook his head, making her sigh.
This was going to be a lot harder than she imagined.
"Right. How about..."
she was cut off by his gravely voice.
"J. Call me J."
Harleen nodded. "J for Joker?" She asked him, somewhat satisfied he'd actually spoken to her.
He didn't answer. He just smiled.
Smiled the smile. The hideous and enchanting smile. Like a moth drawn to a light, Harleen smiled back.