Harleen was just your average girl.

Yeah right, Her life was more messed up than a cheesy novel. Sure, she's a successful doctor now. For her, growing up was one hell of a ride. She lost her parents at a very young age. She has only a few faded, broken memories of them, mostly reliving them in dreams. Most of them start the same...

A picnic, at a lake, and even though she cant remember the name, she remembers the cool fall air. The sky was overcast, blocking the last few rays of sunshine the day had to offer. She can't see their faces, but she knows. A child knows her parents, instinctually, her mother's smooth soft hand holding her small fragile one. She can hear her father's rich bark of laughter. The warm, safe feeling it gave her.

The sky became so dark, blocking all warmth , she glances up. The suns not gone, three shadows are blocking the warm rays. Her mother's hand tightens on hers. The men begin yelling, but she can't understand the words. Everyone talking at the same time. Her mother pushes her back, hiding her from view. That's when things get spotty, she hears a loud pop, like a firecracker, her father falls. A second pop, her mothers hand pulls at hers when her body falls. Everything is quiet, Harleen refused to open her eyes, instinctually not wanting to see the scene before her.

Rough hands grab her arms, she hears laughter, then she's flying. No she's falling. Panic grips her as she hits the icy water. She's so cold as she sinks towards the bottom, her small body not strong enough to tread the water around her. Then there was just black.

Harleen woke up in a sweat, with her heart racing. Turning on the light by her bedside, she sees that she is home, safe. Reaching into the nightstand drawer she pulls out her trusty bottle of oxys . She swallows them dry and waits.

Throwing back the covers, she walks to the bathroom to get ready. She hates when she has that dream. It makes her... feel.

"Get ahold of yourself Harley," she tells her reflection. She showered, her meds finally kicking in, giving her the numb euphoria she was looking for. Stepping out and drying herself, She decided to grab some breakfast. Clad in her bra and panties and covered by her ratty house coat, she poured herself a small bowl of fruit loops. Harleen decided to eat in her living room. She plopped herself on the couch and turned on her small television . She let the news anchor drone on, while she ate and stared blankly at the wall.

By 6:00 a.m. she was dressed and headed to Arkham. Harley craved the monotony of her routine. It helped her, the normalcy of it all. The short drive helped her center herself. The mask of Harleen that she wore , slid into place as she pulled up to the large gates. Rolling down her window, she scanned her badge sighing as the gates slowly slid open. She parked in her assigned parking place, and automatically pulled the glovebox open and grabbed her bottle of oxy. Taking another pill before work, routine. Normal Harleen, normal job, normal car, normal addiction. Self medication at its best. She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and readied herself. She plastered her professional smile on and headed to the door.

"Good morning, Sarah. How are you this beautiful, dreary day?" Harley asked. Sarrah was one of the few people Harley actually enjoyed seeing. The older woman took to Harley almost immediatly when she first started.

"Well my arthritis is acting up, this wet weather, you know?" She smiled even though Harley knew she was in pain. Those smiles were contagious. Harley looked at the older woman. She had to be in her 60's, though Harley would be bold enough to ask. Her black hair showed no gray. She had black , sharp eyes.
"but, Harley girl , you know me, I won't let that keep me down." the woman giggled like a teenager.

Harley smiled back at her, Still chasing Mr. Anderson?"she asked genuinely curious.

"Not chasing," she laughed "caught!" then realizing the volume in which she said it she blushed, makeing her rosey cheeks seem to glow.

"Good for you!" Harley laughed, "don't do anything I wouldn't do." she sang over her shoulder, walking to the door to enter the literal madhouse.

She scanned her badge and waited for the beep before opening the door. She had to mentally perpare herself for the "less enjoyable" people. Sad thing was it wasn't her patients, Harley LOVED her patients. She loathed her coworkers. The men treated her like a dumb blonde. Patronizing jerks! She busted her ass to get through school, top of her class. had to take smaller shitty jobs to work her way to where she was today. Ther still treated her like she slept her way to a 3.9 GPA.

The only thing worse than the men, believe it or not , was the women. Just because she didnt dress down in boxy shapeless clothes, she cant be taken seriousely. Harley knew she had a great body, dammnit she worked hard for that, too. She took gymnastics when she was younger, and as an adult went to the gym at least 3 times a week, and jogged most evenings.

Pushing the bad thoughts back, she swiped her badge to get in gher office, her own little sanctuary. She started her computer and checked her phone. She had a text from her only real friend Jess.

'drinks after work . found a new spot. dinner drinks and dancing, be ready'

Groaning out loud she replied 'sounds good txt me the address... 6ish?'

She put her phone in her pocket and turned her attention backk to her computer. Seven new emails, Yay for Monday. Two of the emails were weekend updates on her patients. Three were boring inter-office memos on upcoming events. Delete! One from her immediate supervisor and one from Dr. Strange. How odd, she had spoken to him maybe twice since she started here.

Joans email first, opening it Harley sighed in releif, she just wanted to get together to dicuss group therapy sessions. She replied to the message, agreeing to meet her in her office around lunch time.

"Well," she said outoud to noone, "here goes." she opened the email from Dr Strange. She didn't know alot about him, her worked on the Special team that dealt strictly with the "Rouge Gallery". The criminally Insane, The super bad guys. The thought gave her a chill.

"Harleen," the email began, "I have been advised by the board of directors that I must hire from within the company for the recently vacated position on my team. After looking over cases and progress, I would like for you to join my team on a trial basis to see if you feel you could handle it up here. Wednesday morning please meet me in my office at 10:00AM. Dress appropriatly."

Unable to stop herself, she squealed. "Finally," she thought "some recognition." She paused in her congratulations to herself...outloud she said to the empty room, "What the hell does he mean 'dress appropriatly'?"