Disclaimer! I own absolutely no batman, so please don't sue! :P I'm just guilty for being in love with it.
By the way, I'm sorry if the format is messed up at all! My ff isn't really letting me upload things properly, and everything is getting messed up. Try and bare with me! ):
Harleen Quinzel was the type of girl who really took initiative. She needed to meet new people, make new friends, learn new things; she was the type of girl who got things done through hard work, not simple thinking.
And that was why she was in such a big mess by now.
"Doctor Marshall! I'll take the job, I'll take it!" She called down the hallway, gaining a few glares from older staff. The doctor turned, and grinned. She knew that he wanted her to take this job, and to be gone from the asylum. Her positive attitude was an unwelcome sight in the glum workplace. Silence was golden in this place.
The doctor approached her, eying her. "And why, might I ask, should I put someone as… exuberant, as you, Ms. Quinzel?" The doctor looked on sceptically, doubting her abilities. Harleen just smiled, to try and smother his hard demeanour with her signature grin. "That's Dr. Quinzel, sir. And I've studied the subject for months, I just know that I need to try! Maybe I'll be the help you need, that he needs! You won't know until you let me have a try with him! Oh, please, sir." She begged, watching as he thought calmly.
"Fine, Ms. Quinzel, you have the job. You have a test run this week, don't make me regret this." She nodded happily. "Thanks so much! I won't let you down, Doctor." He nodded, and went back down the way he came, only pausing once to look at her again. "And I won't be calling you Dr. Quinzel just yet, you're still an intern, Harleen."
The day she met him, she was slightly awestruck. She, Harley, a small woman with not much headed her way, was about to work with the Clown Prince of Gotham. It was exhilarating, not knowing what would come. The Joker was said to be an incredibly unpredictable man, hiding his schemes behind the mask.
He eyed her hungrily, as the guards escorted her into the room. She nodded, and they left to stand outside and wait for trouble.
She wasn't frightened, only threatened. His power was overwhelming, even when constricted by the straight jacket that he must have come to know over time. Harleen could hardly count how many times the Joker had entered the asylum. Paired along with how many times he'd managed to escape.
Taking a seat a few feet away from his bed, where he sat, she observed him. He grinned at her, a sinister glint in his eyes. He sat straight, his legs crossed in front of him.
"Why, hello there, angel. What sort of treat do you have for little old me?" He winked, and her jaw clenched lightly. "Hello, I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel… well, some people call me Harley. I prefer that, Harleen is strange, really." She ranted on slightly, like she usually would do.
Harleen saw the amused look on the man's face, as she provided her name. "Well, never heard someone take so long to give me their name, Harley." He grinned wider, if possible. She cringed at the mocking use of her name.
"So, Harley Quinzel, eh? I like the name, Harley Quinn! Like harlequin! You know, the clown?" He giggled, making a joke of her. She nodded, keeping a straight face. "Yes, I've heard that one once or twice. But what about you, you've got to have some sort of name? Would you tell me your name?" She wanted to start simple, hoping to get somewhere. Though, she knew that this was a long shot.
He burst out laughing, wheezing with each intake of breathe. "My goodness, Harley, Harley, Harley. Don't be thatperson! I really thought, no, I hoped, that you were different. Those doc's get real boring, if I'd say so, myself!" He winked, and Harleen looked down at her plans for the meeting.
She was shocked, to find that he was completely, utterly right. Her plans were too boring, just questions that she was aware he wouldn't easily answer. How could she have been so square with her plan? Harleen had always been so different from the other staff, it was an accomplishment! Why should she change for this job?
Maybe this was what she needed to crack him, a different outcome. Bringing an obtuse view could really speed the process of her analysis up! She had lots of work to do, in order for her success, but her brain was already working on her solution.
"You're right." She sighed, smiling slightly to him.
He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Complete silence. And then a small giggle sounded from him.
"I knew you were different, it's the grin."
She'd visited every day that week, each day, getting to know the man who worked to become the ever-famous 'Joker' more and more with each passing day.
Her methods were quite spontaneous, he seemed to enjoy it. In exchange for information about herself, she'd receive a sparse glimpse of his past. No, she didn't know his name, though his first initial was definitely J.
It was her idea to call him 'Mr. J'. It was a polite way to speak with him, and calling him 'Joker' was just plain awkward. He enjoyed his new nickname, and took it with complete pride. Once, she'd even overheard one of the nurses whispering about a request he'd made. Apparently he'd been trying to get her to call him the same thing, claiming that "It makes me sound smarter, toots!" She'd giggled a bit about that.
But, now it was time for her evaluation with Dr. Marshall, and she couldn't help but feel worried. Her patient was growing on her, he definitely outshone her other patients, all of which who were dull and predictable.
As she handed her week's notes to her senior, she frowned slightly, but politely explained her observations, and escorted him out so that she could finish with another patient.
And all she saw, before she shut the door, was his—once again—sceptical face.
When he knocked on her door the next day, she rushed to greet him, expecting to hear a grim outcome of her efforts. But, instead, the man smiled brightly. Was she dreaming?
"My goodness, Harleen, you're brilliant! You're making such progress, I've never seen anything like this, not with this case! Most of our doctors give up before the week is finished, but you've shown impressive results. I'd appreciate it if you kept up your effort with the Joker, this information is just the beginning!"
She'd agreed, and he left her to herself. She didn't feel glad, or happy with his words. In fact, what she felt, terrified her.
She'd felt knew she shouldn't have felt such things for her patient. Many people spoke of how Mr. J deserved no respect, and no understanding. He was just a monster in their eyes, but she knew more of him. Harleen knew that he had never been happy, and Harleen knew that she shouldn't have been concerned.
Harleen was ashamed with herself; she'd given out information about Mr.J, and the doctor kept it for his own ridiculous purpose. She was a tool, a tool of conspiracy against Mr. J! Why did this send such a pang of regret throughout her system?
Her mind was a war zone, as she was confused. She knew it was wrong to think such things, to
So, she let the feeling hide deep within her heart. This was a workplace, nothing else. She came here to work, and she came to get the results her boss wanted.
After three weeks, he knew Harleen Quinzel inside and out. He knew what made her laugh, what made her think, and what made her heart flutter.
The Joker knew exactly what she felt for him, and he planned to use it to his advantage; it was his way of life, which she was slowly growing to blind with love to see.
She didn't know it, she didn't know that she was in love with him. Infatuated, yes, but love? No, sir. And though he didn't usually plan these things out, he knew what had to be done.
In the fifth week, she knew it was love, and she couldn't hide it anymore. She had fallen for him quickly, and deeply. It was his grin, his laugh, and his dark eyes.
He was the only one to make her laugh anymore.
Somehow, the tables had switched. Instead of her moral support, she'd go to him with her problems. With the anger she held towards her co-workers, who were selfish and cold.
Their sessions picked up, and he knew it was time.
"Harley, my dear, would you like to know something about me? It's been a while, hmm?" He winked, and she nodded brightly. Her clipboard back in her office, she no longer needed it, each word of his hung onto her brain, out of pure interest.
"I know you, and I know how perfectly divine you are, compared to the average person. You're so refreshingly different, toots, you're special." He paused, as her eyes lit up. She was the perfect bait. "That's why we belong together, sweets. You and me, can you imagine? We'd keep Gotham in our hands, we would. I'm not insane, no. I just know what the world really is, behind its tinted goggles."
She was hanging onto his words, keenly leaning forward. "The world is made of selfish people, selfish, looking for a quick thrill. But I, I live life on a thrill ride, it never ends!" He giggled, hopping a bit on his bunk. "It's funny, that we're so ridiculous, because we're different! We're thrill seekers! Imagine how much fun we could have, Harls? Don't you wanna have fun with me?" He finished, leaning forward.
Her eyes were showing the battle she was having. She wanted to be with him, to be with the only person she really liked in this city, but she still knew what she'd be put through. Harleen Quinzel would become a wanted criminal, she'd experience gruesome things that she was probably unprepared for, and she'd become a hated woman.
He needed to persuade her; he didn't like it, but he had to get her help, in order to make his way out of here.
"Harley, if you really want me, I'm yours. All you need to do, is get me out of here, and we can be together. Now, come here for a minute, toots." She approached, and before she could react, he had her lips locked with his in a passionate kiss.
He watched her close her eyes, her body loosening up. Letting go, he backed up. His voice serious, he warned. "Think about it."
She needed no stronger push, she was his. Harleen Quinzel was now devoted to the man called the Joker.
But she couldn't be Harleen anymore, not with the plans her future held. She had to show that she was a changed woman.
She would be Harley Quinn, it was a quick decision.
So, packing some things, she placed them in her car, and drove down to a shop nearby.
Expensive costumes lined the walls, and she held her hood over her face, examining each one. Nothing had screamed out to her so far, and she was doubtful that she'd have a costume before she went to free Mr. J. Sighing, she stopped to look at one more rack, and nearly squealed with delight.
It hung, in red, black, and white glory. It was Harlequin, it was Harley Quinn. She was ready to go, now.
Sneaking past the guard, she unlocked the back door, and made her way into the building. Keeping careful watch, Harley made her way through the small maze; she knew this place too well. She had quickly reached the restricted section. It was now, or never.
Two guards stood at the door, and with the use of her hand gun, she had them out in seconds. Both with identical square prints imprinted into their faces. And then, she saw him.
He was proud, his smile contagious. Giggling, she ran up, and placed her newly bought explosive on the glass, stepping back. It shattered the glass, and debris flew everywhere. He slowly walked out of the grime, and let out a loud laugh.
Walking up, she grabbed his hand. "You're coming home, Puddin'." She winked.
And that was where she'd gone wrong, and she knew.
And though she wasn't treated right, and though she wasn't Harleen Quinzel anymore.
Harley Quinn couldn't bring herself to regret what had become of herself; She'd been let free.