Despite her care in putting together her appearance and the 6 inch heels she'd worn on a happy whim that morning, by lunchtime she felt dishivelled and 6 inches tall in total. It seems her victory over Greg, as she had viewed it, was viewed somewhat differently by her superiors. She mulled over what had been said during the mid morning meeting she had been summoned to earlier as she nursed a can of grape soda.
"Miss Quinzel,"
The lack of "doctor" didn't go unnoticed.
"Having read your... report... on Gregory Wells and his supposed involvement in the incident..."
Riot... she corrects in her head.
"...Of the 21nd, we felt that it necessary we have this little meeting."
Pop psychology, mind games, over dramatization, abuse of patient confidentiality... it wen't on for almost an hour.
"As your... story... has been partially corroborated by guards who responded to your panic alarm, which given that your patient was posing no physical threat to you at the time..."
This was too much for her and she had to interrupt
"He literally, in the next sentence after I pressed it, told me he'd arranged to have me killed!"
"Threats, Miss Quinzel, are a part of the job and if you are unable to deal with them perhaps you should enquire into a different proffession."
Harley fought the urge to cross her arms like a sullen child as they continued.
"As I was saying, the use of the panic alarm was a waste of resources and resulted in insufficient personnel for a more serious conflict elsewhere that resulted in several contusions."
Bruises. Really. Oh for fucks...
"Furthermore," her angry thoughts were interrupted once more "as to the allegations posed linking Mr Wells to seven was it...?"
"SevenTEEN"
"...further homicide cases that is a matter for the Gotham Police Department, and if you wish to research such things, I must ask you again, to look into another profession. Is that clear?"
"Crystal" she smiled, baring all of her teeth.
"For now, the patient, Mr Wells, is being reassigned to a threat four rating pending his court date for the afore mentioned homicides and will be spending a week in solitary for his instigation of the recent incident. Upon the evening of your little stunt he attempted to poison his guards with help from the accomplices that have came to light. One of which has agreed to testify that the murders he was committed for were indeed under Mr Wells's orders."
BUT THAT'S ALL THE THINGS I RECOMMENDED IN MY REPORT! UUUUGH! Harley thought, but she said:
"That's good to hear Doctor, I'm pleased that he will face the consequences of his crimes."
"Yes, well none of this trap-laying, concluded by report beforehand nonsense. Next time a patient attempts to kill you, have recorded proof, and report about it afterwards." he warns, dismissing her.
"What? after I'm already dead?" she whispers to herself as she walks as un-stompily as she can manage from the office, closing the door softly behind her "Zombie reports, that'd be a trick."
"UUUUnnnngh..." she rested her head on top of the soda can for a moment before realizing it would probably leave an imprint of it on her forehead and switching it to the tabletop.
"Bad day Doctor Quinzel?"
"What gave it away" she asked, voice muffled slightly by the squish of her cheek against the plastic coated wood.
"Being willing to put your face against that germ infested cesspool we call a break room table"
"Maybe ill catch something and get to go home" Harley murmurs, still not raising her head.
"That bad?"
"Formal warning for doing my goddamn job" she replies sunnily.
"Ouch"
"Yeah... Who am I talking to anyways all I see is cesspool."
A older woman moved around the table into her field of vision and waggled her fingers in greeting.
"Uhhh.. Doctor..." that part was easy, white coat "Heart...?"
"Hartman. Fairly impressive recall for a one off informal mention, over a week ago, you might find that you're..."
"Uhhhgh. Please don't shrink me doc I feel short enough."
The womans wrinkled mouth contorted oddly. Eventually Harley realised it was a smile.
"May I join you?"
"Its a free cesspool"
"Indeed." she inspects the chair before she sits, and keeps her hands and arms off the table.
Tucking a loosened clump of hair back over her ear Harley straightened, envying the womans hair. It was so strictly ordered that not a wisp strayed from the elegant knot at the back of her neck.
"Can I... help you with something or..?" Harley begins curiously.
"Not at all dear."
"Oh"
"I believe I may be able to help you though."
"I think I'm ok but thanks for..."
"Leave"
"Excuse me"
"Leave." The woman repeats. Tone mild and friendly, but the look on her face anything but. "Unlike your college professors, your patients cannot be persuaded to give you full marks. You will fail"
This wasn't the first time this had been implied to her. Though it offended her all the same. Too young, blonde, pretty to have become a Doctor on her own steam.
"Now you wait one damn minute I-"
"I'm not interested in your feeble excuses for your behavior I just want you to move on. I see you've already received formal warning, but let that be a lesson. They will be on to your little scheme, sooner rather than later so don't. waste. our. time."
Shocked by the attack from such an unknown and unexpected angle Harley struggled with the urge to slap this woman. How dare she?!
"Move on. Fraud in a place like this costs lives. Better to listen to me now... pick a profession more suited to your... talents." She scrunches her nose as though disgusted.
"No you listen to me you saggy old bitch..." Harley begins getting to her feet, a few stragglers in the room have gone quiet, clearly not wanting to miss any drama.
"Ah your charming upbringing shows itself... I don't know how you found my observations on the social structures between my patients and Mr wells, but I wont stand for it. Whoever helped you to access them will be found and dismissed if I have any say in the matter, and believe me Missy, I do." she raises her voice as though to get the onlookers onside.
"What the...I didn't steal anything from you!"
"You expect me to believe that the report you submitted..."
"Is my own observations!"
"You did two years of work? questioning the subordinates of the crime web that includes Wells... finding the outside connections between subjects, monitoring their suspicious lack of correspondence?" she laughs
"No, I ate lunch with them a couple o' times! like a fucking normal human being!"
"You expect me to..."
"Look Honey," Harley begins, cutting her off "I don't expect you to believe anything... much less understand how talking to a person rather than a test subject might help them open up to you about a few things whether they realize they're doing it or not, but I didn't steal shit from you, or from your lackeys or whoever I'm supposed to have bribed to get your stuff. You can shove your report and shove your "advice"." she finishes the dregs of her soda and slams her hand down on the empty can to flatten it. "I worked hard to get here, damn hard. Anyone who claims otherwise is just pissy that no one has ever looked at them and assumed they could sleep their way up, not even if they really really really wanted to. Bet some even tried to." Harley didn't miss the tiny flinches on Hartman and one other of the women present. Nor, weirdly, a young guy to the back corner. "Let me give you some advice. See peoples faces, not their reports, and make accusations when you have something other than the stick up your ass to stand on!"
As with all workplace gossip, it seemed everybody knew of the "Hag vs Harlot" argument within about ten minutes. Harley took one look at the muttering pair of orderlies outside the staff room at lunch and made an abrupt turn towards the patient cafeteria. A guard did a rather over the top impression of a sassy woman with one hand on her hip and the other one stabbing accusingly toward his colleague to roars of laughter. Harley cringed, recognizing what her mother used to refer to as her "Now see here mister!" pose. She shouldered past them and walked directly to Juice.
"Hey there Doc" he greets her one handed, passing cups with the other.
"Hey Juice." she replies dejectedly, snagging a cup.
"Life got you down?"
"You know.." she squints suspiciously.
"Hell doc, everyone knows" he murmurs eyebrows raised.
Her fears confirmed Harley groans and rubs her temples.
"I suppose I should be glad to be the "harlot"?"
"Hey, as much as theyre mocking you for your smart mouth, theyre closing ranks on the old lady for being a bitch." he sloshes juice slightly in his enthusiasm "Do your little trick where you act like your looking at nothing while you see everything and check out the wallflowers."
Harley focuses more on the room instead of her own misery and quickly notices the smattering of interns and a few of the younger doctors peering from safe vantage points near the exits. She watches as one of them almost almost sits at a table then awkwardly puts his hand in his pocket like he wasnt reaching to pull out the chair and dithers before leaving. Harley snorts quietly.
"Your starting a trend, dont back off now"
"Thanks Juice. And for the juice."
"Always welcome Doc"
Harley took a seat with Krystal and a White she'd never seen before. The two patients sat a carfully maintained two seats apart and didnt speak.
"Hey Krystal, and Hi... sorry I dont think I know your name?"
"Margeret..." the other girl answered quietly after a long pause. And followed by a long pause. "...Im new."
"Well... welcome." Harley smiles encouragingly "Im Doctor Quinzel, but Harley is fine"
Pause.
"...Like the motorcycle?"
"Almost. I used to have one you know."
"Oh."
After a moment it was clear nothing else was going to follow and they all sat quietly for a moment until Margeret got up to clear her tray and leave.
"She's not new" Krystal offered once Margaret was out of hearing. "She always says that. Shes been here since she was little."
Harley cautiously resisted the urge to comment on Krystal calling another person little when her patient scrubs hung from her tiny frame. She wasnt about to interupt her patients attempts at being conversational.
"We're friends though... sort of. Whenever she is here for lunch she sits with me and asks my name like we haven't met. But she always comes back to my table."
"Maybe she likes this table." Harley half joked.
"I thought of that too." Krystal frowned unpeturbed by this comment "So I moved around a few times... and she still came over to where I was sitting"
"Thats nice." Harley smiled in understanding.
"It is." she replied softly.
They sat content with each others company for a while as leathers began to filter into the room. A small contingent of reds all entered at once, late, the redhead twins amoungst them. Harley was momentarily distracted by the realisation Krystal didnt seem to be in much of a rush to leave. The twins spotted her and made their way over.
"Krystal sweetie, did you want to...?"
"I can't leave the table until I've finished my vegetables." She recited in that strange learnt-by-heart voice that Harley had thought they were past. She frowned. "They wont notice me if I do, they never do, no one notices."
"Hey Doc."
"Yeah hey doc! hehe"
"Hey Chuckie one, Chuckie two."
They bump into each other slightly, seemingly non communicative of who will sit where, until they eventually fall in the two chairs to Harley's Right.
"Awfully late for your snack..." She questions lightly.
"Yeah, being questioned 'bout the bo.. OW"
"Dont tell her that!"
"But knows who he was, she's the one dobbed him in as the bo... OW"
Twin One glares at Twin Two rubbing his upper arm where Two pinched it.
"I still don't think we should..." he casts his eyes around the room "Say anything"
"Anything?"
"Anything."
They fall silent. Harley knows better than to ask anything openly, they'll get there...
"But why would she care bout the boss..." Tweedle dum asks out one side of his mouth.
"The OLD boss..." Tweedle dee snaps.
"Right."
"Right."
Harley stifles a giggle and maintains pretending to be fascinated by Krystal mechanically finishing off her green beans before slowly turning to leave.
"But... doesn't she know that she's...you know." the mutter, thinking Harley distracted by Krystal's departing form.
"She doesn't."
"Does she?"
They look at Harley who keeps her face bland and open.
"She doesn't"
"Quir baaunk zee don zuwit?"
"San gorr blup"
"Quir mar sar bar blu dooble"
"San gorr blup!"
"Is that twin speak?" Harley blinks resting her head on one arm propped on the table.
"What?" they start in unison.
"Twin speak. Your own language. Twins often form a somewhat fluid form of garbled word sounds as toddlers that they seem to entirely understand, whole conversations of it. Much fewer continue past say ten or so years old. Your probably the oldest example I've seen." Harley muses thoughtfully.
They blink at her, distressed.
"What wrong guys? I don't mind or anything if that's whats bothering you though its considered a teeny bit impolite to be holding a conversation in front of people who don't speak the same language and all since you know they can't join in." she jokes.
"More pills." declares Dee.
"More pills for sure" sighs Dum.
"Why would you be given more pills?" Harley questions softly.
"Talking."
"Voices."
"Doesnt exist."
"Not real."
"They've got you on meds for using twin speak?" Harley gasps "Thats just plain stupid!"
"Early. Kids."
"Didn't know better. Told them."
Harley's eyes flit between them like following a tennis match as they speak, seeming to get less coherant.
"You're not getting more pills. You shouldn't be on any pills for this. Do you know what the pills are called?" She pries.
"Tried to not take them."
"Tired. They just put it in needles if you dont take em."
"Stab."
"Do you remember what the label on the little bottle said? what it looked like?" Harley leans in desperately.
"Zoo coping?"
"Zoo clothes..."
"...Pen thick sole?"
"Zuclopenthixol?"
"Bingo doc!"
"You're smarter than the last boss! OW." Dum returns to rubbing his arm resentfully as Dee seems to completely lose the conversation and returns to his food.
Putting aside that comment for more thought later Harley reels over the information before demanding:
"Who's your doctor?"
"But... they've been linked to dozens of brutal robberies and extortion!"
"Look I'm not saying they are all there upstairs or good people or anything but how long have they been on Zuclopenthixol?" Harley wheedles.
"I don't see how that's any of your business!"
"I'm makin' it my business, how long." She snaps at his tone.
"This is ridiculous! I wont stand here and be..."
"How long."
"It wasn't my prescription!"
"How long."
"Well I reviewed the work of their previous doctor and it has a sufficient spread of..."
"Cut the crap. How long."
"Since the age of... 8?"
Harley stormed down the corridor right into Arkham's office. Taking note of his frown at the door bouncing off the wall behind it from her... enthusiastic entrance. Harley lets out a deep breath before starting.
"Dr Arkham, Hi." She beams
"Dr Quinzel." he begins, ruffled. "I don't recall setting a meeting..."
"Oh no Sir, I just thought I'd pop in and express my interest in taking on some a couple of Risk Three patients that have recently been reassigned."
"Oh?" he asks scrolling through his computer.
"Yes. Mr... well mr's plural... Walters"
"The Walters twins, yes. Just recently... very recently in fact came up... Dr Welch felt they may benefit from a change of psychologist all of a sudden" he turns form the screen and touches his fingertips together in thought "Last I was aware you had a full roster of patients Dr Quinzel no need to overwork yourself they are plenty of other..."
"No its fine. Truly." Harley grins "I just had another patient transferred to Risk One care and another will be treated as an outpatient from next Tuesday."
"Well I suppose in that case we could look at..."
"Thanks Dr Arkham. Also I'd like to hold their sessions jointly if possible?"
He breathes out sharply through his nose.
"You're very... keen...aren't you Dr. This is your..."
"Third week Sir."
"Thank you, third week, and if anything you seem to be more driven. That is very unusual around here."
"Thank you sir."
"Humph. I'm not sure that is a compliment"
Harley twirled her pen around like a baton one handed while his eyes narrowed at her for a prolonged moment.
"Very well, I'll have a copy of their files brought to your..." he reaches for his phone.
"No need Sir, have them here" she lifts her armful of folders briefly "Thanks again!"
She lets herself out into the hall once more as a second mustached Hmphf echos behind her.