Chapter 2
"Hair pulled into a tight bun, charcoal grey suit pants and jacket, light blue sweater, white collared shirt buttoned to the top, flat shoes, eyeglasses. Serious, hooded eyelids, pursed lips, tense posture, sharp upper-class voice. Father was an English Professor at a prestigious college, mother a psychology professor. Parents showed little to no physical affection throughout her childhood. Over critical, no praise, constant pointing out of faults. Only Child. Studied Psychology and English in an attempt to earn parents' approval. At age seventeen father beats her with a belt for laughing with a friend during an important lecture. Severe bruising of the behind. Lost all sense of humor that day. Severe control and domination issues due to lack of control during childhood. Would be dominatrix if not sexually repressed..." A pause.
"Doctor Jacob Benowitz I assume? Let us make this meeting quick I am an extremely busy woman. My name is Doctor Harleen Quinzel." Harleen stared at herself in the mirror in her apartment. Clothes were strewn across the floor and bed, leaving little else for the eye to view. During the day she had tried a half dozen or so personalities on, all designed to get her through the interview at Arkham and into her position as the Jokers psychiatrist. The man who would be interviewing her, Doctor Benowitz, was a weak willed man not used to asserting himself; she had figured out that much from the phone conversation with him. The character needed to be just right. The current one she had based off of her idea of a school headmaster, and something just seemed lacking. It was too...unlikable. She thought to herself for a moment.
"Hmm...School headmaster is way too severe..." She said out loud. "But...oooh, building on the school premise..." She threw herself a cheeky grin in the mirror before she started throwing off her clothes; Jacket, sweater, glasses, suit pants. She kept the shirt, unbuttoning it by two and adjusting her bra slightly so it was just visible. Then, diving headfirst into the mass pile of clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, Harleen found her very short red pleated tartan skirt, knee high socks and red high heels. After getting them all on she put her hair up into pigtails and coated on thick dark makeup onto her eyes, coupled with red lipstick. "Oh hi, are you Doctor Benowitz?" She said with one hand on her hip and the other twirling in her hair. "I'm SO glad you're cute, this job would be a real drag otherwise. You gonna show me all over? I'm SUPER excited..." Harleen paused for a moment before snorting with laughter. "Yeah right girl, you're going for a job as a psychiatrist, not the role of his daughter's hot friend!" She had a habit of talking to herself, and saw no reason to stop.
Deciding that it was time to have a break and eat something, Harleen bounded across the room to check what food was in the fridge, kicking clothes sky high as she went. She couldn't have been in a better mood, and it was making her feel more than a little hyperactive. At last she would be given an opportunity to study the one madman that has so far eluded a diagnosis, and she would be the one to crack him open and learn all his juicy secrets. She wasn't afraid of him, how could she be? He was confined in the maximum security wing at Arkham, and there was no way to escape from there. Not even the Joker could get out.
In the fridge there was only butter, two carrots both gone moldy, and two leftover slices of pizza. Harleen did not cook. She took one slice of pizza in each hand and kicked the fridge closed, just as a knocking came from the door of the apartment. She groaned and ignored it, not wanting whoever this was to interrupt her fun.
"Harley, it's me, you can open the door! I'm here to wish you congratulations!" Came Jamie's voice from outside, his voice sounding amused. He had known Harleen since she was a teenager, and as her only close friend he was familiar with her many quirks. She switched one piece of pizza to her mouth, giving her a free hand to open the door with, before letting him in. "So I hear th-" he started, before pausing and raising his eyebrows.
"…whegh?" She asked through the pizza. Jamie looked at her, smiling widely. Looking down, she realized that she was still wearing her school girl outfit. Harleen snorted with laughter for the second time in one evening, accidentally spitting the pizza onto Jamie. "That's your piece I guess!" They both shook with laughter as he came in, wiping the pizza onto the floor.
"Oi, pick that up pig!" She yelled, still laughing.
"Where exactly am I supposed to put it? I think your bin has clothes in it." Said Jamie, still grinning at her outfit.
"Give it here." Harleen poked her head out of her apartment door; no one in the hall. Biting her tongue in concentration she swung her arm twice, the third time letting the pizza fly. And fly it did, straight down the stairwell. She waited for the wet slap of a falling pizza hitting solid ground, before quickly shutting the door.
"Tell me didn't just do that? You've gotten worse Harley." He said as he cleared clothes off the couch so he could sit.
"Actually I'm better than ever!" She said with glee, putting the second slice in her mouth. Jamie laughed.
"I haven't seen you this hyperactive in a very long time. You sure you'll have calmed down by the interview? Or were you planning on going like this?" He said, nodding at her outfit. Harleen put her hands on her hips.
"You don't think this works?"
"Are you the Joker's stripper?"
"Yep, that's what the interview is for." She said, grinning. "Haha no. Besides, I won't be at the interview. Doctor Harleen Quinzel, harsh, severe, and commanding, has issues with sexual repression will be!" She pulled her hair up and put on her glasses, pulling a very sour expression. Jamie frowned under her glare.
"Well I wouldn't want to say no to that person."
"Hehe, I still haven t decided for certain yet."
"Well," he started as he reached for his bag, "take a break for now, I've brought the required components of a celebration!" And he pulled a bottle of champagne out. Harleen cheered.
"Oh yes! Gimmie!" She squeaked as she launched herself at the bottle, falling headfirst onto the couch, laughing the whole time.
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"Doctor Jacob Benowitz I assume? Let us make this meeting quick I am an extremely busy woman. My name is Doctor Harleen Quinzel." Harleen had her hair pulled up into a tight bun and had a very sour expression on her face. She was wearing a pair of half-moon glasses she had bought from a prop store a day before. Her lipstick was an exeedingly dark shade of red. Harleen had taken the school mistress idea and had, in her words to Jamie, added a bit more sex to the character, by adding makeup, removing the jacket and unbuttoning her shirt by two, her blue sweater clinging in all the right places.
"Oh ok, certainly. So how long do I have?" Said the head of Arkham's psychiatric department. Harleen still wondered how this little man had reached such a high position here. Jacob Benowitz was half a head smaller then her, and she was not a tall woman. He looked to be roughly forty-five and had a small bald patch on the top of his head, which only served to exaggerate how egg shaped it was, and a short yet bushy moustache. He wore a small pair of round glasses and stood with his hands clasped in front of him expectantly, as if just waiting to be told what to do. A meeker little man there never was, thought Harleen. This was going to be easy.
"We'll see, shall we begin?"
"Yes, yes of course, follow me and I'll show you to my office." The halls of Arkham were a dull pastel grey, as opposed to the usual hospital beige. It seemed almost as if the building was designed to be grim. The walls were old and she could see many stains and chips in them as she went. Rust clung to all of the doors and bars and each squeaked horribly as they passed through. "My office isn't far, just up this up this hall and to the left."
"I was under the impression that Arkham was a prestigious asylum, and yet here it is in terrible repair. And where are all the inmates?" Commented Harleen, noting the row after row of empty cells.
"Well uh, it's the same answer to both those questions actually." Began the doctor, "The Dent Act. After it was put in place less and less criminals have been granted the insanity plea. It's been getting worse and worse over the years, it's really a shame. I mean, it's not like all those poeple were faking right?"
"I would not be surprised at all Doctor Benowitz, given the man with your job at the time." She said, referring to Doctor Jonathan Crane, who had turned out to be testing an experimental fear gas on patients. He was now one of the many at Gotham's Blackgate prison.
"Oh, yes. Very unfortunate business that. Well, you see as our number of inmates dropped so did our funding. The only real funding we get these days goes into paying for the Joker's absurdly expensive security. It seems all Arkham Asylum is now is one big prison for the Joker. This is my office." He said, leading her into a small room with a desk, two chairs and little else. Harleen took a moment to sit before voicing her next question.
"How many times has the Joker attempted to escape?"
"Not even once. It's bizarre I know but true, he's been extremely well behaved. The only trouble we get from him is the occasional bad joke!" He laughed nervously, rubbing his hand across his bald patch. Harleen was using all her willpower to stop herself from smiling at the idiot in front of her.
"I see, and that hasn't struck you as odd doctor, from a man of his reputation?"
"Oh just wait until you see Joker Wing, you'll understand then." Said the doctor with his first genuine smile.
"Joker Wing?"
"It's what the guards call the old maximum security wing. When the Joker was captured we received a large sum of money to update it into the Joker Wing. And even without it, there isn't much he could really do to escape. He has no money and no one works for him anymore."
"I wouldn't presume to know this man if I were you doctor." Said Harley, barely containing her excitement. "So, let's begin this interview."
The doctor smile became nervous again. "Well, we've already seen your paperwork and credentials so that's done. To be honest we're not actually having anyone else in for an interview, we've been pretty desperate to find someone for him for a while now."
"On the phone you informed me that his psychiatrist had 'just quit'."
"Well yeah he did but we've known he was leaving for quite a while."
"I see."
"So...well after speaking to you I can tell you're more than fit for the job!" The doctor had begun to sweat and didn't seem to want to continue the conversation any longer. Afraid of powerful women, Harleen thought to herself. "So um, would you like it?" This was the oddest job interview she had ever been to. Never the less, she had the job. But she couldn't let that affect her now; she had a character to maintain.
"I am inclined to say yes, Doctor Benowitz, my professional interest in the Joker being considerable. However I cannot accept without first viewing Joker Wing personally. I presume as the head of psychiatry you have access?"
The little man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well...I suppose I could. I'll just get permission from the warden then?"
"Please do, I will wait here."
"Well...ok, give me a moment to get the today's codes from the warden. I shouldn't be too long Doctor. And um...welcome to Arkham." He said with a faint smile, before disappearing out of the door. Harleen took this moment to examine his meager office more closely. It was remarkably sparse. Too sparse. There were no photo's, no plants, not even a graduation certificate on display. Just a blank desk and two old chairs. An explanation was given when she stood and looked behind his desk. Placed just next to his seat was a cardboard box, full of all the office essentials such as his degree to hang on the wall, photos of family, and office supplies. The Doctor had only just been given the job. She checked the plaque on his door, which she had not paid attention to before. It said, "Doctor Thomas Harland, Head of Psychiatry". Now she understood. The doctor who had quit, the Joker's psychiatrist, had been the head of psychiatry, and with him gone, the role had fallen onto this balding, nervous little man. Harley sniggered quietly to herself at the thought of Doctor Benowitz attempting to give the infamous Joker council. No wonder he was so keen to hire her.
At that point he shuffled back into the doorway, "Doctor Quinzel, would you like to come with me now? I'll give you a quick tour of Joker Wing."
"Of course, show me." The exhilaration was starting to build, she felt nervous, as if she were holding her breath. Doctor Benowitz led her out of his office and down toward the main corridor.
"You should get anything you have that's metal ready; you'll have to pass through the sensor equipment before you get it." She took off her necklace, earrings, and glasses. The glasses were actually plastic, but he needn't know just how cheap they were. "Keys, change, that sort of thing?" He enquired. She pulled out her keys and wallet just as they reached the entrance of the Wing. Two large metal doors flanked by guards stood before them. The doors looked new and modern, out of place within the crumbling asylum.
"Doctor Benowitz, go on through. Who's this?" Asked the guard on the right, gesturing towards Harleen.
"New doctor for the Joker Denny, I've got the warden's permission to give her a tour of the wing."
"Go on through." Said the guard, punching in a code on the keypad to the right of the door. The door buzzed and swung open, revealing yet another hallway, this one with a dingy common off to the right through a large archway. Guards sat around a table, watching a sports match on a small television. Mounted on the wall was a large weapons rack, holding a large variety of riot and suppression gear.
"The wing is patrolled at all times, so we converted that old office into a place for the guards on break to relax." Said the doctor as he walked her down the hall. At the end of the hallway was a second set of metal doors. A guard sat behind bars in a security checkpoint to the left of them. Guns were mounted on the wall behind him.
"Doc. Got today's code?" Said the burly guard manning the station.
"I do, I do. D'you have a pen?" He was handed a pen and a small piece of paper on which to write. Leaning over the desk, he scribbled something on the paper before turning it around and showing it to the guard. After giving it a brief examination the guard nodded, and buzzed them through, into yet another corridor. "This will be where you'll treat him." Said Doctor Benowitz, gesturing into a small simple room with a metal table and two matching metal chairs. "See that ring on the table? That's used to handcuff him to the table when you meet. We take your safety very seriously."
"And where is he kept?" Asked Harleen, struggling not to sound tentative. Doctor Benowitz pointed down the hall to the large metal door at the end, the huge turn lock on the front making it look more like a bank vault than a prison cell.
"In there." He said simply. Harleen's breath slowed as she stared at the door containing the Joker.
"Could I see him?" She asked quietly. The doctor didn't seem to notice her momentary character lapse; he was far too uncomfortable here.
"Well...you could look through the slit but I don't have permission to take him out I'm afraid."
"That will be fine." Her heart began to race as they walked towards the door. One guard stood by the side of it.
"Could you open the slit Max? Doctor Quinzel would like to see him." The guard looked at her wearily before turning to punch in a code on a small keypad on the door. With a slight screech a small rectangular hole slid open in the door, just big enough for her to look through.
"Go ahead." Said the guard gruffly. Stay strong Harleen, maintain character, she thought to herself as her heart picked up pace. Slowly lowering herself to the slit, she glimpsed the room beyond. It was a tiny grey cell with a small cot at the end and little more. There was no window, only a small light on the ceiling. On the ground in front of the bed sat the hunched figure of the Joker, his legs up and his arms resting between them, his head hanging low, hiding his face. His hair was light brown, not dyed green like in the video's she had seen. He looked so...normal compared to what she had imagined. Just as she was about to pull away, he moved. Slowly his head lifted, and she caught sight of his scars, like two jagged swirls of twisted flesh extending from either side of his mouth, and his mouth, which was slightly open in a dulled grimace, showed rows of yellow uneven teeth. His facial expression could be best described as mild irritation, as if his prison were a slight drizzle in an otherwise perfect day. And as he raised his head, their eyes met. His eyelids hung low. He looked bored with her, and in that moment, she saw the intelligence in them, and knew that he was more than just a crazed mad man. Just as she knew what he was, so, in that instant, did he know her. Harleen's harsh character softened, and for a brief second she was scared. A scared little girl staring at the devil, and he could tell. His distorted mouth re-formed into a wide grin, his scars stretching in sickening ways. And he began to laugh. Gently at first, then slowly building volume and enthusiasm until he reached a terrifying crescendo, his laughs ricocheting across the room towards her. Harleen backed away from the slit urgently.
"Back to your office Doctor!"
"Doctor Quinzel are you-"
"Do as I say Benowitz!" She hissed. He took the cue and hurriedly showed her back down the hall, the Joker's laughter chasing them away. She took one moment to look back. The guard was struggling to input the code that would close the slit, and she could see the Joker's distorted mouth and scars pressed to the gap in his door as he laughed. As she tuned to leave the laughter stopped long enough for him to roar two words which frightened her more than his laughter ever could.
"YOU'RE MINE!"