Hey kiddos! I forgot to put a little author's note at the beginning of the last chapter to basically explain what's going on here so let me just take care of everything right now.
I haven't seen anything along the lines of this so I figured "Why not write it?" In my version of their origin story, we have a female Joker and a male Harley Quinn, a.k.a. Charles Quinzel later to be Charlie Quinn. They're the same character, just decided to make it a little bit of a genderbender because as I said, I haven't seen anything like this before.
Anyways, always feel free the leave reviews or questions or comments or whatever the diddly squat you wanna say. It's all welcomed!
~ King Noodle
Two months, three weeks, and six days had passed since he first saw her, since his eyes first beheld her in all her grandeur. She had been lounging in her cell as he walked past with Dr. Leland, the door made of glass so he could peer right in. He had stopped dead in his tracks, immediately drawn to the pale woman.
Clearing her throat as to get her colleague's attention, Dr. Leland said, "This is the Joker, Dr. Quinzel. Probably our most well-known patient here in the asylum."
"Would you look it this," her voice sauntered out as she slowly rose from her bed, "Fresh meat. Been a long time since we've seen a new face around here."
"Our employment is none of your concern," the other doctor retorted as the patient reached the glass and leaned against it, eyeing Dr. Quinzel up and down.
"Oh, but it is, dear doctor! I expect to be in the best psychiatric care in the country, and I expect only the best doctors," she smiled viciously, moving her deadly stare to the female doctor.
"We really must be getting along, Dr. Quinzel, or we'll be late for our meeting," Dr. Leland muttered quickly, turning down the hall without pausing to look to see if he was following.
"Coming," he called after her, but his feet refused to move. He could only stare on at the sight before him, completely mesmerized. He'd never seen something quite so like this before. He'd seen poor quality pictures in the papers or shaky videos on the news, but they did her no justice. Nothing could capture the beauty that radiated off of her.
Sitting at the desk inside of his dimly lit office, he continued to get lost in his reverie. Memories flashed by in his mind; conversations during sessions, stolen glances across the hallways. All things that he held close to his heart, secrets for only the two of them to share.
The phone perched on his desk suddenly rang, ripping him away from his daydreaming. Flustered, he reached for the phone, but only ended up knocking it onto the floor in his haste. Cursing to himself, he leapt from his chair, tripping over himself as he scrambled to retrieve the fallen communication device.
"H-Hello?" he stuttered from his new position on the floor, an uncomfortable one at that, laying face down with one leg caught in the phone cord and struggling to push air in and out of his lungs.
"Dr. Quinzel? Is everything alright?" Dr. Arkham spoke, concern obvious in his tone.
"Um, yes, yes sorry, Dr. Arkham. You just startled me, that's all," he said quickly, climbing from the floor, "What can I do for you?"
"Would you mind coming to my office? I have something I'd like to speak to you about," asked Dr. Arkham, all emotion now devoid from his voice.
His heart plummeted into his stomach, but not before stopping completely. What did Dr. Arkham have to talk to him about? Was he getting fired? Or even worse… were they taking her away from him?
"Dr. Quinzel, are you still there?"
"Um, yes sir, I'll be right down," he muttered before gently dropping the phone back into its cradle. His legs buckled underneath him just slightly, his grip tightening on the edge of the desk. His eyes screwed shut tightly as he tried to calm his erratic breathing.
After he was able to calm himself down somewhat, he began his trek down to Dr. Arkham's office. Thoughts were racing through his mind, all of the worst possible outcomes flashing before being replaced by even worse ones. By the time he reached his destination, he was a nervous wreck, a quite obvious one.
Just as he was about to turn the handle, a sound reverberated through the dark halls. But not just any sound. It was her laugh, reaching up from the depths of this prison and wrapping itself around him. Peace washed over him, and he was finally able to enter Dr. Arkham's office.
Stepping confidently inside, he rolled his shoulders back and held his chin up, ready to take on anything his boss threw his way. Looking up from the papers on his desk, the older doctor motioned for him to take a seat across from him, slipping the glasses from his face.
"Hello Dr. Quinzel, so glad you could make it today," he began, a forced smile fixed upon his lips, "There's just a few things I'd like to discuss with you before you have your next session." The older doctor didn't give him a chance to reply before continuing on. "I've noticed that you haven't been turning in very many notes for Patient #001940. Would you care to explain?"
Knowing he had to think quick on his feet, he gave the only answer he knew would make sense. Blame her. "Well, Dr. Arkham, you know how uncooperative that specific patient can be at times. She can be rather mute during our sessions so that makes it hard to get information from her."
"But you know you can still jot notes down about her behaviors, her unspoken body language. You graduated at the top of your class, you should know these things by now," Dr. Arkham sighed, "I shouldn't have to be explaining this to you."
"I know, Dr. Arkham. I am sorry. It becomes difficult at times to remember everything when dealing with a patient such as her. You must know that."
"Charlie, let's talk on a friend level. I know how smart you are, I know you're not one to slip up when a patient gets difficult. I had a guard come talk to me about a little incident that happened yesterday. I just want to know right now, are you forming any emotional attachments to this patient? You can't convince me that you don't know what countertransference is, Charlie. Just tell me, are you developing feelings for her?" he asked, leaning forward on his desk, a kinder expression on his face.
He was stunned. He couldn't believe that Dr. Arkham could have picked up on things so easily. Was he not hiding it well enough? Even if he wasn't, Dr. Arkham was right. He can't be developing feelings for her. It's unethical, and he couldn't afford to lose his job.
"No, Dr. Arkham. I am not developing feelings for my patient, I only want the best care for her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for my next session." And with that, he left.
Walking away from Dr. Arkham's office, he decided on one thing. He would no longer be held captive under her entrance.
