Author's Note – It's been a while since I've written a fanfic so I may be a little rusty. A little of the dialogue between Quinzel and Leland is originally from 'Batman – Mad Love and other stories' by Paul Dini and Bruce Timm and adapted for my story. I love the graphic novel; 'Mad Love' being one of my favorite Harley Quinn stories, and when rereading it, it sparked the idea for my story. I thought it would work in well with setting up the beginning.
Summary - When it comes to love, don't we all go a little crazy? Psychiatric intern Dr. Harleen Quinzel volunteered for a session with the Joker and got in deeper than she bargained for. A Suicide Squad fanfiction, set pre-movie, and semi AU to the movie and comics.
A Darker Shade of Love
Chapter 1
The leaves were changing, green skins tainted with reds, yellows, and browns. The fall air carried a chill, and the promise of winter. Feeling a buzz of nerves and excitement, Doctor Harleen Quinzel paid the cab driver and grabbed her briefcase. Buttoning up her coat Harleen stared at the large, looming structure. Iron gates towered above her, the sign 'Arkham Asylum' stood high in its bold, black lettering. Arkham Asylum, located just outside of Gotham City, housed some of the most dangerous, insane criminals Gotham, and the world, had ever known.
The autumn breeze tousled through her hair and Harleen tucked loose, blonde strands behind her ear. She'd been waiting for this for so long. Today was her first day, a big deal for the scholarship girl from humble beginnings. Straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she climbed the stone steps.
At the entrance, Harleen pressed the buzzer, announcing her presence to the electronic-sounding voice crackling through the speaker. The heavy wooden doors opened seconds later. A security officer, suited, and wearing an ear piece, came to greet her. 'Officer Jones', his badge read, escorted her to the administration's office. Inside, the building was dreary and orderly, people in suits and white coats milled around with files. There was no indication of the madness these walls held. No immediate signs of the murderous patients that were sent there.
After filing out the necessary paperwork, Harleen shed her woolen jacket and donned her white doctor's coat. She pinned her ID and security badge to the front of the crisp material. Feeling the elating swell of pride, she straightened the glasses on her nose.
"Harleen Quinzel, I presume."
Harleen turned to face Dr. Joan Leland, the chief psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum.
"It's a pleasure, Dr. Leland," Harleen stretched out her hand and gave the doctor a beaming smile. "I've read your work; it was really interesting and insightful."
Dr. Leland shook her hand, but didn't return the same warmth, her mouth remaining in a fixed line.
"Thank you so much for meeting with me," Harleen continued, in effort to fill the silence.
"Well, you were fairly insistent," the doctor replied dryly.
Harleen's uncertainty flushed the smile from her face. Peeling her hand from her superior's, she let it rest with the other on the handle of her briefcase. She always knew she wanted to intern at Arkham. She wanted to cure the incurable. It had taken many calls and letters to get the go-ahead.
It became apparent that the middle-aged woman hadn't risen to her place of power with smiles and friendly chatter. In a mostly-male orientated profession, she had adopted a firm no-nonsense attitude. She worked the hours, got results, and demanded respect. From her stellar reputation within the field it was clear to see she was no-one's friend, but she was firm and fair. Harleen admired those traits and secretly aspired to be every bit as good as Leland.
"Come," Leland said. "I'll show you around."
The beginning of the tour was standard and uneventful; offices, labs, conference rooms, and the breakroom. Dr. Leland introduced Harleen to a number of personnel she'd be working alongside. The two strolled through a maze of rooms and corridors. The mundane surroundings reminded Harleen of her time at Gotham State University.
Slowly rumbles of lunacy and contained chaos crept forward in the quiet environment. Harleen thought she heard the cries from inside one of the electroconvulsive therapy rooms. She didn't subscribe to the method but understood its merits. She'd read the ECT rooms at Arkham were sound-proofed, so as not to upset the other patients, but that horrible aguish was hard to contain.
In the belly of the asylum, the guards wore helmets and armor. Armed with guns and batons on their belts, they were a far cry from Officer Jones situated at the front entrance. Keys and codes were now needed to pass through one section and to the next. Riots were frequent and each area was cordoned and secured in effort to contain them.
"Good morning, Doctor," the guard at the gates said in greeting. Despite his hulking size and heavy armor, he had rich, brown eyes and a kind smile.
"Morning Riggs! And how are they?" Leland's head nodded to the prisoners beyond.
"So far, so good, ma'am."
"Glad to hear it. Sergeant Riggs is one of the best we've got."
"Tim Riggs," Riggs held out his hand to Harleen. "Welcome to the mad house."
"Harleen Quinzel." Given his twinkling humor, and the fact Leland seemed at ease to praise him, something she suspected to happen rarely, Harleen liked him instantly.
Riggs unlocked the gates and the two women stepped into the ward. Harleen sensed the change of atmosphere. The air was thick, charged with dormant insanity. Shouts and murmurs travelled from the shadows. This was the area Harleen wanted to see.
The number of cameras had increased; the miniscule pieces of expensive technology roamed, watching closely from their vantage points inches below the high ceilings. It was hard to fathom, given the investment in Arkham's top notch security, why there were so many escapes. Riots came as part of the territory, but seeing the security measures first hand Harleen was surprised at the stats of successful jailbreaks.
"I must admit I was surprised you wanted to intern here at Arkham." Inmates wandered up to the barred barriers. They blew kisses, reached through the bars, and made obscene gestures as the women passed. Leland ignored them. "Anyone who had gone through med school with your high grades could've written her ticket anywhere."
"Yes well, I've always had this attraction for extreme personalities. They're more exciting," Harleen caught Leland's questioning look and added, "and more challenging."
"And more high profile?" Leland snorted in response. With a smile to another guard, the turn of his key and the screech heavy door, she passed through, Harleen following behind.
Guards flanked every available space of the graying exterior. All of the patients had their own small cell; state of art, no expense was spared in keeping them, and the asylum's personnel, secured.
"You can't deny there's an element of glamour to these super criminals."
The woman turned abruptly. "I'll warn you right now: these are hard core psychotics. They'd just as soon kill you as look at you."
Harleen remained silent, absorbing Leland's warning, before gazing away. Her ears aware of the murmurs of the patients around her. She stared at the individuals behind the glass, some pressed their faces up to the barrier of their cells. They all wanted to get a good look at the new doctor in their midst.
Fresh meat, Harleen thought with a shudder.
"You know; I've met people like you before…. If you're thinking about cashing in on them, by writing a tell-all book, think again."
"I would never do such a thing."
Harleen's eyes wandered to the last cell on the right. She left Leland where she stood, her heels clacking on the hard floor. The individual inside wore the same drab clothes as the other patients, but it was the vivid green hair, bleached skin, and wide, painted smile that set him apart, and held her attention.
The Joker.
The worst of the worst. The incurable.
He was humming to himself. His back pressed up against the wall. Unlike the other inmates, he seemed oblivious to what was going on. Ignorant to the fact that there was a new doctor here to analyze him and the others.
"Ah yes! The infamous Joker. He'd eat a novice like you for breakfast." Leland came to stand just behind her.
The Joker cocked his head at the mention of his name, his eyes meeting with Harleen's. His exaggerated red smile widened in its metal greeting.
"Come, I'll show you to your office." Leland was keen to steer Harleen away from the Joker.
Harleen felt heat rise at her cheeks, cursing a momentary lapse in her professionalism. In one of her early letters to Leland she'd requested to study the Joker, and the plea, of course, had been quashed.
"A pleasure," the Joker purred with a wink to Harleen.
Crazed laughter echoed behind them. Riggs pulled the barred door back and Leland led the intern away.
To be continued….
Thoughts?