I'M BEGGING YOU TO SHOW ME SOME LOVE & REVIEW! THEN MAYBE TAKE A LOOK AT MY OTHER STORIES WHILE YOU'RE AT IT? :] I'M STARTING TO GET CHEEKY I KNOW BUT IT'S FRUSTRATING HAVING NOTHING TO READ/WORK OFF AFTER WORKING HARD ON YOUR STORIES :[ ALL OF YOU OTHER FRUSTRATED WRITERS WILL KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS! HOWEVER THIS OBVIOUSLY DOESN'T INCLUDE THOSE WHO HAVE ALREADY REVIEWED & I DO APOLOGISE IF I'VE NOT REPLIED, I DO MEAN TO AND FORGET VERY OFTEN :S BUT THIS WILL CHANGE SO I CAN GUARANTEE YOU A REPLY IF YOU REVIEW BECAUSE I'LL JUST LOVE YOU FOREVER FOR BEING SO KIND :P
ANYWAY, OVER 200 HITS NOW SO I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING, IT'S NICE TO KNOW MY WORK'S BEING READ ON SUCH A LARGE SCALE – 22 DIFFERENT COUNTRIES BETWEEN THEM ALL NOW, WOW! I'M SUPER HAPPY ABOUT IT AND I REALLY HOPE YOU'RE ALL ENJOYING MY LITTLE STORIES ^_^
On another note, I've been a hell of a long time updating this so I apologise a million times over! :S I have been busy with the others so I've been falling behind with this one :/
ALSO I changed Harley's age from 3 to 4 in this because I thought it'd be a little more believable for her to remember something from this age :]
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't have much to say about this apart from the name of the chapter is obviously a play on 'Harley & Ivy', I was going to put this as the title but they haven't discovered their alter egos yet so it wouldn't make much sense!
Also, if I had to pick someone to play Pamela Isley it would have to be from a choice of Scarlett Johansson or Amy Adams – though I'd probably pick Scarlett because she has the right voice for Pammy and she's a really good actress so she could definitely pull it off.
Anyway, let's get back to Dr. Quinzel!
"If I could I would do all of this again
Travel back in time with you to where this all began
We can hide inside ourselves and leave the world behind
And make believe there's something left to find." – 'Miles Apart' by Yellowcard
Harley & Isley
You never forget the day you first meet the person who's destined to be your best friend for life. For some it's the very first day of school where everything's new and you find that special connection over something as small as liking the same potato chips. For others it's getting unbelievably drunk at a party one night and doing something crazy with a stranger whom you never lose touch with afterwards. There are so many ways that we could meet this special person but what I've found to be heartbreaking is that there are people who never find this and being a psychiatrist makes it inevitable to come across.
I always try to offer something that could be considered as friendship to my patients, though I've never been so stupid as to overlook the possible danger that can attach itself to this. I've never broken the boundaries of the patient/doctor relationship to make it something more. It's completely unethical. However I have received much success by providing my patients somebody that could actually be believable as a friend. They then feel they can confide in me which makes it much easier to offer the right treatment for them. Albeit it, this strategy doesn't always work but that's the chance you take in this profession. I know the whole thing sounds like a twisted plan to manipulate the mentally ill but it's far from it. I have no intention of using this information against them so why would I wish to do such a thing? I know my methods are a little unconventional but it's my job to help these people and unlike other psychiatrists I've met, I'm willing to go the distance to do it well.
Pammy has never agreed to the amount of involvement I put into my work. Though I love her to death, I have to admit that it's kind of hypocritical of her to say this. Now Jonathan was always one to take his work seriously which is only typical of his nature but if anybody's the definition of workaholic, it would have to be Pammy. The day I first met her was enough to prove to me that she was the little perfectionist. It wasn't necessarily under normal circumstances that we met and funnily enough I have my mother to thank for it. It was actually under circumstances much more personal than I could have realised at that age that we met.
I was 4 years old and my mother had been hired by a woman named Rosalie Evelyn Isley – more affectionately referred to as Rose – to file a law suit of statutory rape against her husband Christopher Isley. I obviously wasn't told this at the time as it would have been far too complex for me to comprehend at such an age. However I remember that my mother and Mrs. Isley had become quite friendly with one another. Apparently when my mother learned of Mrs. Isley having a daughter the same age as me – who I figured was only brought up in conversation due to her possessing my mother's name as her middle one*. My mother naturally couldn't resist setting a play date for us that would take place in her office to keep this little girl of Mrs. Isley's out of the way as apparently she was proving to be quite the distraction in the workplace.
The bottom line was that Mrs. Isley didn't wish to leave her little girl with her alleged 'perverted' husband. The truth is that Christopher Isley wasn't Pammy's real father, though when speaking of her father this is the one I refer to. However she told me he wasn't many times as we were growing up and there's no doubt in my mind that this constant reminder was due to pent up aggression. The truth is that Pammy never knew who her biological father was and to my knowledge, still doesn't know. However this doesn't surprise me because her mother probably didn't know either. I know this sounds extremely disrespectful but I think it's safe to say that Rosalie Isley would never lose out on admirers of the opposite sex. The auburn hair, the sterling green eyes, the flawless complexion, she was so beautiful and this shows more vividly now through Pammy who, much to her dismay, looks just like her.
The day I met little Miss Isley was a Saturday and on this day I was supposed to go to the zoo with my mother and father. It's what I'd asked for anyway but of course they didn't take me. My father had used that special word 'yes' so of course I shouldn't have expected to go but this was before I realised what the word really meant. So that morning I hurried into the kitchen for my breakfast in my tiger striped PJ's as fast as my little legs could go. I loved tigers because of my cuddly toy tiger Joey, so obviously those PJ's were my favourite ones. I was greeted by my mother's bright white face mask which I found to be creepy no matter how many times I'd seen it. I thought it made her look like a clown* and not a very funny one at that. Maybe this was because I knew it was still her beneath it.
My mother smiled at me with her painted white face as she took some milk out of the refrigerator to make up some cereal for me. My father was sitting at the table eating some toast and scanning over the morning paper. He'd tell me some stories from it from time to time that he thought I'd enjoy and I did. I'm not sure why he did this but part of me believes that he did it because he wanted me to grow up being aware of the world and my surroundings. Maybe he thought I'd grow up to be more intelligent because of this? Who knows for sure? However I did grow weary of him telling me the news as I got older due to the fact that I came to learn at least half of it is fabricated.
I climbed onto the chair next to him and took a seat as I waited impatiently for my cereal. It appeared that on this particular day there was nothing for my father to report to me as he didn't even acknowledge my presence at the table. I didn't really care about this because I was excited to go on our little trip out. I wanted to see the tigers because they were my favourite. I kept imagining what they'd be doing when I saw them, I pictured them in a huge field, running and rolling about on the grass because they were my favourite things to do. As I got lost in my little day dream, my mother fixed up my cereal and brought it over to me. She placed it on the table and took a seat opposite me, taking a sip from her cup of coffee she had sitting there.
"Are you not going to touch your cereal sweetie?" my mother asked and I snapped out of the little world of my own. She was unusually chipper that morning but I just thought it was because she was excited to go to the zoo like I was, it seemed to make sense. However I knew I couldn't spend all morning on breakfast or I'd miss the tigers so I took the spoon in my hand and looked over at my father briefly who continued to flick the pages of his newspaper. Ignoring me appeared to come naturally to him, even when I was looking right at him. I ignored it in return and took a mouth full of my cereal; I think it was Rice Krispies** but I forget. Not that it's important either way. I just remember that I enjoyed the feeling of it crackling in my mouth; I found it interesting because it was so different from other foods. I liked it.
"Are you looking forward to today?" my mother asked me and I nodded enthusiastically. I couldn't wait to see the tigers. She smiled again and I was genuinely happy at this, it wasn't often I saw my mother smiling. It was nice to see she was capable of it. I chewed and swallowed my mouthful of Rice Krispies after letting them crackle away for a while before I spoke again.
"We're gonna see the tigers!" I told her and giggled a little as I shuffled in my chair in contentment. I put another spoonful of cereal in my mouth and let them crackle away. My mother's face changed but I didn't really take this to mean anything.
"What are you talking about honey?" she asked me and I thought she was just being silly. I swallowed another mouthful of cereal and giggled again.
"Daddy said we're gonna go see tigers today!" I was still excited and still didn't catch on that my mother knew nothing about this little outing. My mother immediately looked at my father who pretended not to notice her.
"Charlie, did you tell our daughter you were taking her to the zoo today?" my mother wasn't amused in the slightest and my father could tell as he lowered his newspaper to look at her immediately when he heard. Though he'd actually been listening all along, it's like I said before – no backbone whatsoever.
"No I didn't say that," the little liar. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and I felt as though my dreams had been shattered. Why did he lie like that? Why wasn't he taking me to the zoo to see the tigers? Why couldn't he just grow a pair? – Though I didn't think this at the time of course but his lack of backbone speaks volumes.
"Honey, we're not going to the zoo today. You're coming out with mommy on a play date while daddy stays here to do some work." She told me and I felt like crying. I really wanted to see those tigers.
"But I wanna see the tigers." I told her and fought back the tears, she'd only shout at me or ignore me if I cried anyway. She didn't want to deal with a hysterical toddler even at the best of times.
"Well we can see the tigers another time, finish your cereal and then we'll get you dressed." She told me and I was so angry at my father for being an asshole about the whole thing. I understand he had work to do but why not just say it instead of getting a little girl's hopes up like that? And why lie about it to your wife? He was the worst person in the world to me right then, the backstabber.
"No, I wanna see the tigers! Tell her daddy, you said I could," I near enough shouted at him and he appeared to be indifferent to how I felt. Apparently what my mother wanted was more important.
"I'm with your mother on this one sweetie. I'll take you to see them another time." He replied and buried his head under the metaphorical sand by lifting his paper back up to cover his face. He didn't want to look at how upset he was because it would've reminded him that he caused it. I was sick of him ignoring me and pretending he didn't say things that he did. It confused me because I didn't understand why he was doing this. Now I wouldn't be making such a big deal out of this but it was important to me at the time because I was still fairly new to the world so seeing things I hadn't seen before meant a lot.
"That's not fair!" I told him but he didn't look at me. He didn't care as long as my mother was happy which ironically she wasn't because she was busy being annoyed with me.
"Look missy, you're coming with me today and that's final." Her annoyance was beginning to show as I could hear it in her voice.
"I don't wanna," I told her and I left my spoon in my cereal as I continued to fold my arms in protest. I wasn't going down without a fight. Unfortunately my mother knew how to fight back even harder, after all like I said before; it was her job to win arguments and she was damn good at it.
"Well that's just the way it is, you'll always have to do things in life you don't want to do. That's just reality, now stop being a pain and finish your breakfast." She gave me a stern look so I shut up and carried on eating my cereal, I didn't wait for it to crackle in my mouth, there didn't seem to be a point anymore. It's surprising how straight forward she was with me at such a young age but I'd like to think it made me tougher. Maybe that's why she did it? I was about to have a day that wasn't at the zoo with somebody I didn't even know, it just didn't sound like any fun to me at all. After that I got dressed, my mother insisted that I wear my overalls that were too long for me because I was so short for my age, I always have been but I suppose this made it a lot easier for when I started my gymnastics later on – though I really didn't want to do that at first either. My mother refused to buy me smaller clothes. I guess she didn't want to think of her only child as being somewhat 'abnormal'.
My mother had planned for us to meet in funhouse type place with ball pits and padded climbing frames. There was a little cafe situated next to the playing area inside for the mothers to sit and keep an eye on their kids so this was my mother's port of call. She took me straight there for some fresh orange juice when we entered, though I thought the milkshakes looked really good. Of course I wanted one but I think what she said in reply when I asked was that she didn't want me to have diabetes when I was older. I didn't know what this meant, I guessed it was some form of the 'sniffles' but it didn't sound too good either way. As we sat in silence – because let's face it, what did we really have to say to each other? – My mother kept checking her watch. We were supposed to meet the Isley's at 11:30 but they were running a little late. I think she was actually concerned, something I've not seen often when it comes to her. She really did care about another human being besides herself. However I think the only reason she wanted this play date was because she wanted an excuse to hang out with a client she'd made friends with while she was off the clock. It would be 'unprofessional' otherwise, like she even needed to answer to anybody, she was one of the best. Effectively being the best in her law firm permitted a 'get out of jail free' card for any 'lack of professionalism' but she was still determined to prove something by not using it, what this was I don't know.
After another 15 minutes of awkward silence, I watched the other kids play away in the ball pit. I got lost in my thoughts about the tigers again, which appeared to be a distant dream when my mother suddenly jumped up out of her seat and it startled me as the table shifted swiftly. I looked back to her and saw her waving like she was the same age as I was. I thought she looked silly so I tried not to laugh, she was wearing gym gear; sweat pants and a hooded sweatshirt; even though she wasn't going to be getting up off her ass apart from the occasional trip to the restroom and when we finally made our way back to the car later on. I remember being relieved she wasn't wearing her stupid face mask anymore; otherwise I would've had a crazy clown woman* for a mother. Sometimes I wish she were, even if she creeped me out, at least I'd have an excuse to laugh at her.
I looked over to the people who were entering, two redheads; one tall one and one small one. They were dead ringers for each other and I was amazed because I'd never seen a mother and daughter look so alike before. In reality all I would've had to have done was look in the mirror with my mother standing next to me to see this but I didn't think of connecting those dots at that age. She was mommy, she was mean and I didn't want to be there. The little girl was wearing white jeans with a little green shirt that had flowers on it. Her mother was wearing a short summer dress with sandals and she was beautiful. She made my mother look like a hobo though to be fair, my mother was wearing sweats. It makes me laugh now because I realise how manly she must have felt next to her for not dressing up.
The red headed woman waved at my mother with a warm smile on her face as they came closer. She dragged the little girl along with her other hand who seemed reluctant about the whole thing, so we were pretty much in the same boat. My mother hugged the woman when she arrived at our table as me and the little girl stared at each other in observation. I think we were silently assessing whether we would get along or not.
"Rose it's so good to see you!" my mother told the red headed woman, I liked her name, it was like a flower and it was very pretty. They pulled away from their embrace and the red headed woman took a seat at the table, gesturing for her little girl to do the same. My mother sat down again and gripped her cup of coffee that she'd been mulling over for the past 15 minutes and taking a sip.
"I can't tell you how good it is to see you when it's not about business Lil." I didn't know what she meant at the time but I was still contemplating whether or not I liked the little girl and I have no doubt that she was thinking the same of me as she eventually took a seat. The two adult's chit chatted for a little while about nothing I found interesting before the woman who I now knew as Rose turned to me and smiled.
"Oh aren't you precious with those big blue eyes and little golden curls! So you're the little angel I've heard so much about!" she told me and my mother smiled at this. I don't know what she'd been saying about me to Rose but she must have said it in the thought it would reflect on her. I was too shocked to say anything in return so my mother spoke for me.
"That's my little Harleen," she told her and she appeared to be beaming with pride. She was a completely different person around Rose. In fact when I looked at her it felt was like I was looking at somebody I didn't know, even at the age of 4 I could tell the difference. It was strange but I found it quite fascinating at the same time. My mother changed around this lady and I wanted to know why but I didn't bother to ask as she turned her attention to the little red headed girl.
"And you must be little Pamela, I've heard a lot about you! Your mommy loves you very much you know." It was really weird for my mother to say this to her. I guess it was her way of reassuring her considering what was going on with her mother and father. I remember thinking her name was quite strange because it sounded like a grown up one and we were only little. However little Pamela looked at a loss for words and I don't blame her, I wouldn't have known what to say to that at 4 years old either.
"Why don't you girls go and play? I'm sure it'll be lots of fun!" Rose told us as she started gesturing for little Pamela to go away and my mother did the same to me.
"Go ahead Harley, go play with Pamela." She told me and we looked at each other reluctantly. I should have been looking at some tigers right now but I was being forced to play with somebody I didn't know. We eventually stood up and walked over to the play area together. Though this was more like shuffling to me because of my oversized overalls but coincidentally this broke the long awkward silence between us.
"How come your pants are so big?" the little red head girl asked me while she tried to stifle a giggle. It wasn't in a malicious way at all, more out of genuine curiosity. I was noticeably smaller than her so it was no surprise that her clothes that must have been the same size fit her perfectly.
"I dunno," I told her and giggled after I shrugged my shoulders, I found it quite funny because I did feel a little silly. Also, I genuinely had no idea at the time why my clothes were so big. I felt my cheeks warm up and she giggled too as we reached the ball pit. We took off our shoes that were the typical Velcro strap type sneakers. Hers were white with green checked flowers; mine were white with purple glittery stripes running along the side. Purple was my favourite colour and I guessed that green was hers. In our little white socks we climbed over the padded steps and jumped into the ball pit. There was a boy sitting on his own that we thought nothing of, he just sat there staring into the pit. It was a little strange but I guessed he was lonely so I went over to him and little Pamela watched me. I think she was a bit cautious of him to tell the truth.**
The boy was about our age, maybe a year or so older. His blonde hair was quite long and at first glance I actually thought he was a girl. He had big brown eyes and if we were both older I probably would have had a crush on him. He had that surfer look with his little cargo shorts and blue tee that would have been irresistible if it carried on into adulthood, I'd say I usually go for the intelligent type but my taste is pretty varied. Either way he looked pretty lost so I felt sorry for him.
"Hey, you wanna play with us?" I asked him and I looked over to little Pamela who didn't look too thrilled about my inviting the boy to play. I looked back at him and he looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. In a strange way he actually looked as though he was going to cry.
"A – Alright," he stuttered and I was pleased with this. I signalled for little Pamela to come over and I suddenly felt a little more confident.
"Come on Red, we're gonna play." I told her, I only decided to call her it on a whim because of her red hair obviously but I liked it a lot and little did I know this would be the first time I ever called the girl who would become my best friend by that nickname. The initial look on her face was a weary one and I ignored it, I don't know whether it was because of the boy still or whether it was because she didn't like the nickname but since I've called her it many times since, I suppose it was the boy. I crouched down and wrapped my arms around a few of the multi coloured balls and threw them up in the air to break the ice. The balls didn't fly up far before they came crashing down and I started giggling, I found it really fun and the boy smiled and decided to pick up one of them to start a ball fight. And he did. He threw the ball at me and I threw one back at him. We started giggling and then I realised that we were leaving poor Red out so I shouted her again.
"Red, catch!" and I threw a ball at her but it flew right past. She laughed at me missing and then picked one up to throw at me but the boy beat her to it and a ball came flying at my head. It hit me right on top and he must've thrown it pretty hard because it bounced off and I remember it actually hurt.
"OW!" I shouted and rubbed my head, I could feel the tears welling up and Red's face changed instantly. She stopped laughing and threw the ball right at the kid full force but he ducked. He was so fast, it was almost like he was used to things getting thrown at him.
"Hey, not so hard stupid!" he shouted at Red who was furious. Looking back on it now it was quite sweet considering I'd only just met her that day.
"I'm not stupid, you're stupid!" she yelled right back and the kid got all bent out of shape about it. I stood there and watched as I rubbed my head and swallowed back the tears. That was one thing I never liked to do, cry. I always saw a kind of weakness in it even from a very young age. I know now that this isn't 'normal' but it hasn't done me any damage so far anyway.
"I don't wanna play anymore, I hate you!" and with that the kid threw another ball at her which just about missed. I have to admit he was a pretty good aim but kind of a twisted brat at the same time. I can't even begin to imagine now what his parents were like. I sat down and carried on rubbing my head after he left.
"You stink!" I heard Red shout at him but he was already long gone. She trudged over and sat next to me looking concerned.
"Are you okay Harleen?" she asked, though she couldn't pronounce my name too well as she prolonged the double 'e' at the end.
"Yeah I'm okay now. Thanks Red," I told her and she smiled, seeming content. I'd made up my mind at that moment that I liked her and it made me forget about missing the tigers. Or maybe it was the hit to the head that made me do that? Either way, I was happy.
"Boys stink, we don't need him!" she told me and I thought this was hilarious so I laughed and laughed. I wish I could be that amused at something so simple now but it's true that life gets more complicated as you get older.
"Yeah!" I agreed and she joined in the laughter. The next hour or two we played about in the ball pit together, other kids came and went but we decided to keep to ourselves. What originally should have been something tedious had turned into something really special. We both knew from that day that we'd be best friends forever. She started calling me Harley, then Harls and Lee; I carried on calling her Red then Pammy and Pam. We became like sisters, I'd get myself into scrapes and Red would get me out. That boy was just the start of many years of me having bad luck with men and Red coming along to pick up the pieces. After that came the failed relationships, perverts following us both and guys being general jerks. Red fought them all off, she was a modern day Amazonian woman and she was truly inspirational to me. I have to admit that she is a raging feminist that does push it a little with her speeches about men but that's one of the things I love about her, one of her quirks. The quirks we find in life are what make it interesting*** I've always believed this.
It's quite funny when I think about all the things I initially didn't want to do that made such a huge impact on my life because in a way it almost makes me thankful that I listened to my mother – almost. Although she really gave me no choice in the matter, I guess venturing into something you don't prepare yourself for makes all the difference. You have no expectations so you don't set yourself up for anything and thinking about it now I guess that's a pretty good way to live. If gymnastics wasn't an example of this enough then my friendship with Pammy sets it in stone. After all, there's no doubt that we were two of a kind when we first met and we have been ever since. This is one of the very few things I'll be eternally grateful to my mother for.
* I wanted to use this as an example of how selfish Harleen considers her mother to be as little Pammy is only mentioned because of something that has to do with her.
* Wanted to use a bit of irony here that Harleen finds clowns to be creepy when she falls in love with one and pretty much becomes one as her Harley Quinn persona takes effect later on in life.
** Little reference to the 'Hush vol.2' graphic novel when Harley is in the opera and crashes it – she sings about Rice Krispies which is what tells Bruce there's something not quite right. I'M NOT ADVERTISING RICE KRISPIES & I DON'T WORK FOR KELLOGGS!!! O_O
* Irony again because Harley actually becomes a crazy clown woman ;P
** Little hint to Pammy's dislike of men later on :]
*** Reference to my Joker story 'The Man Who Laughs: Origins of The Joker', just to show they already have similarities ;]
I might have neglected this story a little bit but ideas keep coming to me & I've already got lots of dialogue down for my sequel to 'Shadow of the Bat'. Plus the Joker story got me a little side tracked :S
I thought the middle name 'Evelyn' would be appropriate for Pamela's mother because of Eve being from the bible & the connection to the Garden of Eden – see the link to plants there? It's cheesy I know! :P
I won't tell you whether that boy was the person who would someday become The Joker because I'd like to leave it open to interpretation. You can decide whether he is or not for your own entertainment if it's better for you that way :P
BUT PLEASE REVIEW? :] I do try hard with these stories so it'd be nice to know who's enjoying it and such, even a simple one line review would be appreciated! I don't ask for mucho :P
