Jack Napier stood with a bouquet of flowers in front of the iron gates to Arkham Asylum, gazing up in wonder at the huge, intimidating building behind it. "That don't look like any hospital I've ever seen," he said to himself, as he pushed open the gates. "More like a haunted house. Well, at least I know the woman I love ain't afraid of ghosts!" he chuckled, heading through the gates and up to the door. "I hope she's working today – it'll be awkward if I got the flowers and she ain't here. Guess I can always steal some more and come back tomorrow!"
He pressed the intercom by the door. "Yes?" said a voice.
"Hi, I'm here to see Dr. Harleen Quinzel," said Jack.
"Just a moment," said the voice, and the door buzzed. Jack pushed it open and headed inside. A dour, glum-looking middle-aged woman sat at the reception desk. "I've just buzzed Dr. Quinzel," she said. "Is it about anything in particular?"
"It's kinda a private thing," replied Jack. "Business of a personal nature, y'know."
"I see," said the receptionist, glancing at the flowers. "She's lucky – been a long time since anyone brought me flowers."
"What? A catch like you?" asked Jack, feigning shock. "That seems hard for me to believe. Lemme tell ya, toots, if me and Dr. Quinzel weren't an item, I'd snap you up in a second."
"That's a very impertinent thing to say," retorted the receptionist, but she smiled.
"See? Nice smile," said Jack, nodding. "That makes all the difference, y'know. When you get off work, you head out on the town with a smile on your face, and some lucky guy is bound to notice you, mark my words."
"I hope so," said the receptionist. "Dr. Quinzel's lucky to have a nice guy like you."
"Well, I only hope she realizes that," agreed Jack, as he saw Dr. Quinzel heading down the hall toward them.
"What is it, Dolores?" she asked. "You said I have a visitor…"
She trailed off when she saw Jack, staring at him in shock. "You…what are you doing here?" she demanded. "You're supposed to be in jail!"
"The law and me came to an understanding," said Jack with a smile. "And I was kinda hoping we could do the same, Doc. I brought you flowers to apologize for what happened between us…"
"You trying to steal my wallet, you mean?" demanded Dr. Quinzel.
"Yeah, that," agreed Jack. "It was a stupid thing to do, and I'm really sorry about it. I spent a sleepless night in jail thinking about it, and now I'm hoping you'll accept my apology."
"Fine," snapped Dr. Quinzel, taking the flowers from him. "Apology accepted. You can go now, Mr. Napier…"
"If only flowers and an apology were enough," he interrupted, sighing. "But I think it'll take more than that to assuage my guilty conscience."
"Like what?" asked Dr. Quinzel.
"How about dinner?" he asked. "You and me, someplace fancy, my treat."
Dr. Quinzel stared at him again. "Are you seriously asking me out on a date after you attempted to steal from me?" she demanded.
"It's not a date – it's an apology dinner," he said. "And if it happens to be someplace with candlelight and romantic music, that's all part of the apology."
"I honestly can't believe you!" snapped Dr. Quinzel. "Why on earth would you think someone like me would ever date someone like you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Jack. "You saying you're too good for me just because you're a fancy doctor and all?"
"I'm saying you're a criminal!" snapped Dr. Quinzel. "It has nothing to do with our social standings, and everything to do with you breaking the law!"
"Aw, c'mon, I bet a smart girl like you has broken the law a little in your time!" chuckled Jack. "Once you get to know me, you'll realize I ain't that bad a guy! I've never killed anyone, just relieved folks of their money from time to time."
"Look, you probably think you're some kinda dashing rogue, Mr. Napier, but I'm not the sorta girl who dates criminals, whatever their crimes. Period," she snapped.
"Is that what you put on your online dating profile?" he asked. "Because frankly you're excluding a huge section of society by being so picky…"
"It's not picky to want to have relationships with decent people, Mr. Napier!" snapped Dr. Quinzel. "And you're not that, despite all your superficial charm! Believe me, I've dated charming creeps before, and I've learned that it's not what's on the outside that counts!"
"Well, you're judging me by my outside," retorted Jack. "But if you went on an apology dinner with me, you could get to know my inside too! Geez, that came across a lot weirder than I intended when I said it out loud…" he added, frowning.
"Goodbye, Mr. Napier," snapped Dr. Quinzel, shoving the flowers back at him. "Please don't bother me ever again, at work or anywhere else."
She strode off. "Wait, wait, wait!" exclaimed Jack, racing after her. "You don't understand! I didn't just come here to apologize to you!"
"What did you come here for, then?" she demanded, whirling around.
"I…came here for some help," he invented. "It's like you say, toots, I'm a criminal. I've always been a criminal, and I'll always be a criminal, because I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to change my behavior – there's gotta be something wrong in my brain. So I kinda need help…with my brain…and that's what you shrinks do, right?"
Dr. Quinzel stared at him. "Are you saying you want to be treated as a patient here?" she asked.
"I sure am," he agreed, nodding. "I'm hoping you can fit me in for a few sessions – how's your schedule looking?"
Dr. Quinzel nodded slowly. "All right, Mr. Napier," she said, heading back to reception with him. "If you're serious about seeking treatment for your psychological issues, I'm sure we can set up regular appointments for you here."
"Great – I know you'll be able to help me, Doc," he said, nodding. "Sweet, compassionate gal like you will be just the kinda treatment I need…"
"I think you misunderstand me, Mr. Napier," interrupted Dr. Quinzel. "I won't be the one treating you – I've met you outside of a professional environment, after all, so it would be deeply unprofessional of me to agree to psychoanalyze you."
"Oh…well, that's…not ideal…" began Jack.
"But I think you're right – you do need help, and I applaud you for recognizing that before you commit another crime and end up in jail again," continued Dr. Quinzel. "I'll refer you to one of my colleagues, the best in his field at criminal psychology. After a few sessions with him, I'm sure you'll be right as rain. Dolores, please buzz Dr. Crane," she said, nodding at the receptionist.
A few moments later, a tall, thin man with glasses entered the room. "Harley, such a pleasure to see you again," he said, beaming at her. "Of course I'll be happy to help you in any way I can…"
"I'm very glad to hear that, Johnny," replied Dr. Quinzel. "This is Mr. Jack Napier, an associate of mine who has a bit of a problem with kleptomania, among other criminal impulses. I was hoping you could find the root of his problem and help him overcome it. Mr. Napier, Dr. Jonathan Crane," she said, nodding at him.
Jack looked at Crane, who looked back at him. While they had both been smiling when facing Dr. Quinzel, they now eyed each other with mutual disdain. Jack could tell Dr. Crane was not a particularly sympathetic man despite his specializing in criminal psychology, and he could also tell by looking that he was a fairly humorless man - sessions with him would definitely not be fun.
"Anything I can do to help, Harley, of course," said Crane, smiling back at her.
"Mr. Napier? Will having Dr. Crane as your therapist be satisfactory to you?" asked Dr. Quinzel.
Jack nodded slowly. "Sure thing, Doc – I'm sure we'll get along like a house on fire."
"Excellent," said Dr. Quinzel. "Thanks, Johnny. Best of luck with your therapy, Mr. Napier," she said, heading back off down the corridor. "I'm sure Johnny will have you out of here in no time."
Before she left, Jack saw her grinning to herself, and felt his heart soar. "The little minx," he muttered to himself, also grinning. "She thinks she can get rid of me that easy. She obviously doesn't know me, or how resolute Jack Napier can be."
"Come along, Mr. Napier," snapped Dr. Crane. "And don't touch anything in my office – I keep it carefully arranged so I'll know instantly if anything is missing."
Jack nodded, following him down the corridor after Dr. Quinzel. "What on earth are you smiling about?" demanded Crane, noticing his face.
"Oh, just life, Johnny," replied Jack.
"It's Dr. Crane to you," snapped Crane.
"Dr. Crane," corrected Jack. "You know what," he murmured to himself, as Dr. Quinzel smiled at him again before entering her office and shutting the door. "I think she likes me."