Memoirs of a Harlequin

The Origin of Harley Quinn

Chapter One: Arkham Asylum

The buzz of Gotham City engulfed Harleen Quinzel as she stepped off the city bus and onto the busy street. Her nerves pinched her stomach but her face hardly showed it. This was her first day as a hired psychologist at Arkham Asylum a position not easily filled. The long city bus stopped a block away from the ominous looming bridge that lead to the Asylum, and by all means it was not a secure part of the city, especially in high heels. There was another entrance into the Asylum, but it was only accessible by car off of a freeway. Now this bridge had not been used in over a decade as was blatantly obvious by its poor condition. The only people who used it were the homeless, who had become quite abundant in Gotham recently. And they used it often, since there were also a notorious set of stairs which lead to the under-bridge sanctuary. Keeping her pale blue eyes watchful, Harleen walked across the rickety bridge with confidence. Since it was still early in the morning, the path was surprisingly quite safe with no living thing around besides the seagulls. As her path became more familiar Harleen's concentration was now carefully set on the ground which was littered with dead bird parts, cigarettes, and the occasional contaminated bottle. As she exited from the protection of the bridge walls, the wind nipped her face like needles and she had to pull up her hood for protection.

Arkham Asylum the sign read on an intimidating dark metal arch, a beam of light scanned her as she neared, giving her shivers throughout her anatomy. A twenty foot fence accompanied her anxiety that circled the property giving it the essence that it was in a world of its own. Guard posts stood on each side and most likely around the back as well. She felt eyes watch her as she walked through the gates and into the Asylum grounds.

***

As Harleen entered the lobby she noticed the normal if not sterol appearance that it took and gave her a wave of comfort that expelled her experience with the exterior. Adding to that the comfort a cheerful looking receptionist put her quite at ease. The receptionist was not an obese woman but a plump woman, who couldn't be over the age of thirty seven. Her brown eyes were large and doe like but had their share of thin lines most likely brought on from her line of work. Her hair was a dark brown that had natural waves to it, and small white highlights that seemed very premature.

"Dr. Quinzel?" The receptionist greeted in a chipper voice as she peered over the papers in front of her.

"Yes." Harleen responded, fastening her hair up in a tight bun high on her skull. The receptionist, Holly, as her nametag informed scanned Harleen again then gave a charming smile then held out her hand.

"Holly Franco, Here's your paperwork, oh, and your tag," After shaking her hand Holly handed over the papers and helped pin the tag onto Harleen's vest.

"Dr. Crane is in a meeting right now, but I can show you to your office."

Screams echoed off the walls as soon as Holly led Harleen from the lobby and into the hallways. They seemed to grow louder as the two traveled through the heart of the asylum. As if seeing the uncomfortable look on Harleen's face, Holly spoke up.

"You'll get used to the noise." She reassured calmly.

"I remember my first day…" giving a loud laugh, Holly turned a corner sharply and opened a large steel-like door to reveal Harleen's new office. It was of good size, but sharp and was obnoxious to the eyes. White walls on hard pale wood floors were the first things to catch attention, there were books shelves made of the same pale wood, a desk that complimented both, a large black couch, and a large armchair. Knitting her eyebrows together softly, she took in the office and crossed her arms. It wasn't the most comfortable office she'd ever been in, and would defiantly need work.

Leaning over slightly Holly chimed in and broke Harleen away from her thoughts.

"I know it's a bit sterol, if you want to you know change some things around, I won't say a thing. Just don't tell him I told you that." Giving a small wink, Holly left towards the door.

"I'll let him know you're here, he should be done in a few minutes." Giving a last nod Holly left Harleen to her new office to unpack her few supplies.

"Dr. Quinzel." A voice snapped Harleen from her paperwork. Giving a slight jump she looked up and met the pale eyes of Dr. Jonathan Crane. His horn rimmed glasses gave him a sharp intellectual air that swept right through her body.

"Dr. Quinzel." He spoke again, this time with a stronger tone in his voice as if he were addressing a child.

"Yes." Harleen gave a tight grin as he sat in front of her. Looking off for a moment, Dr. Crane sat his hands on her table then returned his gaze to her.

"I see Holly gave you your documents, don't let them comfort you. All new employees are on probation their first month."

"Why's that?" she asked, setting her papers aside.

"Some people just can't…handle our clientele. "He replied with a small grin. His eyes fluttered over her desk then back to her.

"I've already taken the liberty of scheduling your first." His tongue gave a soft flick on the roof of his mouth, his eyes moving over to a small clock.

"Good luck, Dr. Quinzel." He gave a small nod in her direction then got up to leave. Harleen watched him intently, she still felt a little stiff from his mannerisms, he was defiantly odd.

An attendant walked in a few minutes after Dr. Crane had left, bringing a cuffed patient with him. The patient couldn't have been older than twenty five, with dark greasy hair and darty eyes that seemed to travel around the room at a mile a minute. Sitting him down on the couch roughly, the attendant dropped his file on her desk then took his place behind the patient while he sat twitching nervously.

"Excuse me," Harleen gaped then chocked out a false laugh.

"Is this how you treat your patients here?"

"This one is a noted escapee." The attendant informed her, giving a tight grip to the patient's shoulder.

"And I wonder why." She retorted, standing up with the file.

"Un-cuff him…and please, if at all possible remove yourself from my office." She added this dryly with no illusion of an option, as he opened his mouth she took her stance standing her ground with a hip at ease and her head cocked to the side.

"It's against policy, Dr. Crane will-"

"I'll deal with Crane. But to make it easier on you, poor soul, would it be more convenient if you just stepped outside? There's a perfect view from the window." She couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth, but the anger in her stomach was enough to keep her set pace.

"Fine." After un-cuffing the patient quickly he left the room and stood outside of the window his eyes burning holes in Harleen's skin. She gave a simple smile and closed the door. After taking her seat in the armchair, she skimmed his file then looked up at him pleasantly.

"I'm Doctor Quinzel," Harleen informed as she put on her thin oval glasses, he genuine smile still intact.

"Thomas Schiff isn't it?" she asked, taking out a pen.

"Yeyyyesss…" he stuttered, dark eyes scanning wildly over her. Beads of sweat trickled from his hairline as he broke his gaze on her and let them linger on the window.

"Don't worry about him, just look at me. Tell me how your days going today Thomas." Her order was soft and friendly.

"They're, they're trying to kill me…" he whispered seriously. Paranoid Schizophrenic, his file read in bold.

"Thomas I highly doubt their trying to kill you." She comforted, laying a hand on his. He jumped slightly and stared at her in shock.

"Your new here aren't you?" he asked, keeping his hand under hers.

"My first day."

He only nodded, shook slightly, looked at the window and pulled his hand away from hers. She followed his gaze, and caught the eyes of Dr. Crane staring at her quizzically.

"Who was your doctor before me?" Harleen brought his attention back to her, making her voice smooth as to try and stop his tremors.

"D-Doctor Crane." He answered, her strategy clearly working as he kept his focus on her.

"Not the friendliest guy I've ever met." She grinned, and then added a small laugh to engage him further.

"Nnno, no." he agreed, joining in with her laugh awkwardly. They had a moment of silence before she continued.

"You can tell me anything you'd like Thomas, that's what I'm here for. I promise nothing you say will upset me." She added once she felt he was properly relaxed, nothing would be worse than having him fly off the handle and having Dr. Crane to answer to afterwards.

The rest of the hour went along well enough; there were certain subjects that would startle Thomas and send him into a small fit. Harleen learned quickly to jump into another topic when those situations came up. But overall Thomas seemed to have calmed a great deal, for his standards he was almost relaxed. That was until a beeper chimed and her office door was opened quickly, letting the attendant and Dr. Crane into the room.

"Have a nice night Thomas." Harleen gave a small wave, and directed a stern glance to the attendant who gently put on the cuffs and walked him out quickly. A few minutes passed until Dr. Crane broke the silence.

"Your methods amuse me." He had been so quiet Harleen almost forgot he was there.

"Excuse me?" she asked, setting her oval glasses on the table gently.

"You act as if your friends with your patient."

"I try to have a close relationship with them yes." She responded defensively.

"That's a horrible strategy Doctor." He commented bluntly, rubbing a spot off of his glasses.

"It seems to have more of an effect than yours; Thomas seemed almost petrified of you."

"He's a Paranoid Schizophrenic; doesn't that come with the territory?"

"And your strategy is what? To try and give him Stockholm syndrome? It doesn't seem to be working." Harleen felt her cheeks blush a deep shade of pink as she talked. She expected him to be angry or at least agitated, but it seemed to have quite the opposite effect. He seemed intrigued. Like a professor feeding off a student's feeble attempts to prove him wrong.

"Unfortunately for me, I do not possess the reassuring qualities of the fairer sex Dr. Quinzel. I'm certain the cut of your blouse had no effect on the patient what's so ever." Dr. Crane gave an arrogant grin then took a few more files out of his case, placed them on her desk, and gave them a small tap.

"So far so good Doctor, I hope you keep proving your reputation correct." With that he walked toward the door, and then paused.

"If you would like a ride home tonight I would be more than willing. It's raining quite heavily now."

"Thanks Dr. Crane, but Holly already offered."

"Very well then, I'll see you in the morning. I have another meeting to attend to." Dr. Crane flashed a knowing grin, then turned his back to her and left the room. Harleen leaned forward slightly as if a string had been tied between them. Giving a shake to snap her back to reality, she stacked her files and called Holly to schedule that lift.