The Smiling Façade
Chapter One
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Batman, The Joker, Harley Quinn etc.; they all belong to Bob Kane. Also, I'm writing this purely for entertainment purposes only and will not be making any profit during the course of writing.
Notes Beforehand;
Now that I got all the legal stuff out of the way I can start. Okay, so being this is my first ever Fanfiction I haven't had a lot of experience, so please bear with me. I've been meaning to do a Harley Quinn fanfiction for ages, and since I've been coughing up my own blood for the past few weeks, I have a little time off Uni so I can finally get started.
I've seen a lot of fanfictions about how the Joker and Harley met, some decided to make Harley fall head over heels in love with him. Which is ok I guess but, I'm trying to make it realistic and I imagined the Nolanverse Harley a lot harder to woo. Also, I don't really imagine the Joker being interested in Harley because he's a sadistic killer, why would be into her? Anyhow, let's just see how this goes sorry about the ramblings.
I sat there, gazing pointlessly at the slowly moving world below, the first time I realised that I was truly alone. I had never been out of a radius of 20 miles from my dad before and it started to affect me. Shaking the needy, immature thought out of my head, I needed to stay strong if I wanted to pursue my career as a psychiatrist.
When I sent the application, I had no intension that they would accept. I have no experience what so ever, only several years and thousand dollars gaining my PhD. The fact that my dad allowed it left me dazed. Only he knew how weak I really was.
After enduring another three tedious hours of fretting and holding back tears in a flying metal can of death. I finally arrived at the airport.
Half asleep, I stumbled over to the reception where I found a man with a card spelling my name incorrectly. I corrected him;
"It's spelt with a double E not an I, that spell Harlin."
I couldn't wait, could I? The inner control freak within me erupted within ten minutes.
My father was a huge motorbike fan, hence why my name is Harleen Quinzel. My farther pleaded but mother always refused to call me Harley, but everyone seems to anyway. Personally I don't mind it, in a funny way it always made me feel a part of a group, although I never was.
The man holding the card simply apologised with a hint of annoyance, and then led me to a yellow cab. Clinging onto my bag anxiously, observing the passing buildings, the graffiti portrayed left me more on an edge. Some had splurges of colours; others had more of a darker appeal. The city almost had a mythological atmosphere.
Traveling through Gotham, we arrived outside a shabby and aged house. No wonder why it was so cheap, the place was falling to pieces. But to tell the truth, the entire city needed putting back together. What could've put it to this state?
The creaking floorboards of my porch shook me out of my daydream. The cab that brought me to my destination drove away with a screech of the wheels. He was probably going easy with me, looking at the state of me.
I stepped inside slowly, expecting something to come jumping out at me. I could never let my guard down in this city. Saying that, a 5'5, shaking blonde isn't very intimidating more like tempting to rape.
Sluggishly, I trailed up to my new bedroom and collapsed. Exploring my new haunted house could wait another day; I needed some rest before starting my new adventure alone.
I woke up with a jolt, feeling painful vibrations from my phone in my jeans, where I always kept them. SHIT! It was dad I completely forgot about him. I was meant to phone him after I arrived.
"Harley! Where the hell have you been!?" He exclaimed in a panicked voice.
Dad's been smothering me ever since mum died. No matter how much he tries to hide it, he's not the same without her.
"I'm so sorry, I was really tired. I could barely think" I said in a calm, collected voice. I'm usually the one to calm everyone down. Maybe that's why I decided to become a psychiatrist. I like to understand people, know their reasons for their actions.
It took several attempts to calm my farther down, before I could finally get him to hang up. If I hung up, I wouldn't hear the end of it.
I fell back into my bed, groaning at my stupidity. I lay there for a bit, before collecting myself to make myself some breakfast before heading out. I opened my cupboard door to find... Nothing. What did I expect? To open the door and find full course meal? I guess I'm skipping breakfast for today then.
I never really noticed the interior of my house until now. It wasn't all that bad, from what I expected. The kitchen was well lit, and as far as furniture goes it was pretty stylish to tell the truth. And that went for the rest of the house too. The only thing that bothered me was the cracked mirror in the lounge. I'm very superstitious, it needed to be moved.
I glanced at the clock and to my dismay; it told me I had an hour to get ready before my first day at work.
In a rushed daze I scrambled through the furniture, up to my suit case to get my work clothes. Only then I realised, I hadn't had a shower. I was still the sticky, sweaty mess I was before collapsing on the bed. I ran towards the bathroom and started stripping my clothes off, before jumping in the shower. The steam rose to the top, as I jumped out and started to dry myself. Planning ahead, I kept my clothes that I was going to change into outside the room.
After applying makeup, brushing my hair and grabbing my bag, I stared at my reflection in the cracked mirror. My hair was a faded blonde with intense streaks from previous dyeing. My stern expression frightened me a little; I relaxed and recognised the wide-eyed face that was always portrayed. My trousers and shirt hugged around my small frame perfectly, I wasn't curvy, but I had a decent figure. I wore trousers because I didn't want to look like a slut on the first day, I didn't want people to talk.
I looked like someone I knew, someone familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it. I looked like... My mother. When she was younger, she used to stare at her reflection and motivate herself before going to work.
I took a deep breath and said;
"I am Quinzel, no matter what happens today I will try to achieve my greatest, to the best of my abilities."
Remembering the quote my mother used to say. I turned round and began my new life in the city of Gotham.
Remembering to bring the address to my new workplace. I handed it to the taxi driver, who gave me a questioning glare.
"Is this address right, miss?" He asked. I stared back dumbfounded.
"Positive, why would I lie about that?" I answered bluntly
He got the message; he shot back a few centimetres and began to drive away from my tattered house.
The look he gave me wasn't reassuring, I didn't know much about Gotham, and I didn't research because I didn't think it was needed. As we drove past the modern, safe buildings I began to feel a little uncomfortable. It wasn't until we drove past the wreckage of a hospital I got the shivers, the disaster looked recent. The cab shook as the car drove up to the place where I would be working from now on.
It looked old-fashioned compared to the rest of the city. The metal railings gave it an edge, that a girl/woman like me was not welcomed.
'Arkham Asylum'
Ending notes;
Sorry it's a small chapter, it's just to see how things go. Don't worry I will be including the Joker in this soon.
Please review since it would be very helpful to me.