I woke up Friday morning sweaty and nauseous from a nightmare. It was truly bizarre and that didn't stop it from terrifying me. It started in a home I didn't recognize, but it was dark. I could see outlines of things but not much else. And the smell. Like rotting blood.
"I'm sorry Doctor Quinzel, you were making too much noise. I had to shut you up." Emily said regretfully. Where the hell was she? Where the hell was I? And why couldn't I see?
I went to reply and noticed I couldn't open my mouth, it hurt to even try. I attempted to feel them but my hands felt much too heavy to lift, like they were made of concrete. This is where the nausea came in. I looked around frantically, starting to panic. I had absolutely no information and was nearly blind. Helpless.
Muffled noises of hysteric cries for help ripped a bit of the skin of my lips. Had someone sewn my mouth shut?! Suddenly bright blue eyes were the only source of light in the room. A click of a switch illuminated the room, but only enough to see a small circumference of space.
The Joker stood in front of me, looking down to my face in a critical manner. "Shh, shh, shh, shhhhhhhhh Pumpkin, Daddy's here." He soothed, raising my chin with his index finger to get a better look at my mouth. My eyes darted around his face and I did actually calm down a little. Emily had done this, not him. So why was he here then? To help me...? I tried to reach for him eagerly, but I just couldn't lift my damn arms. They got about 3 inches off the ground and fell again with a devastating thud. "Calm down, Harls, have a laugh or two. You'll be here for a while." His head turned to the left. I noticed he called me 'Harls'. He had never done that, he only knew me as Dr. Quinzel. So then how- my thoughts were cut off by him yelling. "Wrong, again, Emily. How many times must I teach you?" He was audibly angered and frustrated. "It's your technique that's sloppy. Do it with purpose." He advised.
Turning to me he hooked his index finger through the thick string into my mouth and pulled hard, yanking it out roughly. Each stitch tore through my skin and I screamed loud, crying as I felt the blood run down my chin. My lips didn't even feel like lips anymore. I was trapped, a victim of my own immobility. My heart pounded and I started to feel a bit light headed. "Stop with the dramatics, Harley." The Joker grabbed my throat and cut of my air supply. I could do nothing to stop him, besides passing out would most definitely benefit me. His crystal blues hooked my own, distracting me at the complexity of his irises. "Now, are you done? Are you going to behave for me, baby?" He cooed. I nodded the best I could. I would say anything to get him to let go of me. "Good girl." He let go of my throat and patted my cheek affectionately.
I gulped in air so hard I coughed and sputtered for a moment. My head hung as I took a series of deep breaths to ease the insufferable pounding. Blood coated my tongue and bile rose in my throat. A sharp sting of a needle pricked into my neck and more rapidly than I could handle my vision shifted. I saw three of everything and the colors popped much more than usual. I saw three Emilys in blood spattered yellow dresses, not the horrid orange jumpsuit. She held a large needle and equally large thread and looked doubtfully at the Joker. My vision started to fade and everything sounded like I was at the end of an impossibly long tunnel or on a fuzzy radio station. "Go on, try again." The Joker encouraged. That was all I remember before waking up.
Reimagining it all made me need to vomit. So I ran to the bathroom and did exactly that. A look at the clock confirmed I had woken up half an hour late. Fuck. Great morning so far. I couldn't help feeling my mouth- checking, just to be sure.
I made it to Arkham right on time, practically sprinted to my office. The Joker today. Phenomenal. I spooned down my cheap granola and yogurt combo as quickly as I could manage. I hadn't had much time to think about the dream and, psychiatrist or not, I didn't want to. I had no desire at all to analyze, or even think of it again. So I chalked it up as just a random nightmare from Emily's session yesterday and moved on.
I crunched quietly as I went through my emails. I replied to some, deleted others, made note of new patients and patients that would be leaving me as a sane man or woman. That actually made me smile. Curing people... Was an indescribable feeling of accomplishment. Like finally solving a 1000 piece puzzle. "Good morning," I smiled at the guards as I went into the special room.
Frank hauled the Joker in and ushered him roughly to his seat. I took my place with my book and gave Frank a smile. "See you in an hour." The door clicked behind him without a word. His attitude was starting to piss me off.
"Good morning, Mister Joker." I tried my best to forget the dream and give him a pleasant grin. I think I did okay.
"Good morning, doc." He grinned. "You look tired. Sleep well?"
"I slept fine, thank you." I dismissed. "Today,-"
"Don't tell me. Word association?" He snorted. "You quacks are so predictable."
He caught me. I was going to do word association. "No," I denied. "I want to know more about you."
"You make me blush, Doctor. But I don't give up the good for free." He winked.
"I expected as much." I rolled my eyes. "Tell me something about you, and I'll tell you something about me." I bargained, raising my brow.
"Oh, no, Harleen, I already know everything about you." He rejected, leaning comfortably back into his seat.
My eyes narrowed. How the hell...? "Oh, yeah?" I challenged with a small shock-giggle, making him grin like the mad man he was.
"Harleen Francis Quinzel, commonly referred to as Harley. Lives alone in the Hilltop apartments in East Gotham. Number 2273 to be exact. Excelled in gymnastics throughout high school and college and graduated GU with a 3.8 GPA." He grinned evilly with a wink. "Oh. Right. And your blood type is AB positive." He stated matter of factly.
My mouth hung open in complete disbelief. It was highly disturbing he knew this much about me and we had only had one session. At the same time, it was sort of flattering somehow. I didn't let my mind linger on that.
"Can you blame me for getting curious?" He asked at my expression.
"How?" I asked shortly.
"Eyes and ears everywhere." He said vaguely with a wink.
"Do you stalk all of your doctors?" I questioned with a bit of a sharp tongue.
"No. Not all. Harleen Quinzel. A beautiful name, really." I disagreed. "Rework it a bit and you get-"
"Harlequin. Like the clown. I know, I've heard it before." I said boredly. Predictable from someone who was known for being the opposite.
"Har-ley Quinn." His voice was thick, like honey. "It's a name that puts a smile on my face, doc. Like there's someone here I can relate to. Someone I can share my secrets with."
"Really?" I grinned. This book would be a piece of cake. "Tell me!" I said eagerly.
He burst into a fit of uncontrolled giggles. "Come on now, toots, surely you didn't think it would be so simple." He said, sounding a bit disappointed.
Damn it. Damn him. "Come on, Mister J, you know so much about me and I know next to nothing about you. It's a bad joke."
"Harley, you have multiple pages about me in front of you." He pointed out.
"Of your crimes and breakouts, yes. I know nothing about you. And similarly, you have facts on paper about me but don't actually know me." Which actually made me feel better.
"I suppose you're right." He said in a disgruntled tone. "Fine. I'll indulge you. Ask me something."
"Tell me about your parents."
"That's not a question. Mommy died. Daddy killed her with a rusty knife after he found two suitcases, one for her one for me. I remember how the blood stained her hair. It smelled like pennies." He paused, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes for a moment. "Then, he tried to kill me too. Gave me a pretty scar. I ran and ran until I passed out. Then I woke up and ran some more. Found myself in New Jersey. The police contacted my dad and I tried to run away but they caught me. A week later he nearly killed me in my sleep. But like mom, whose blood still stained the linoleum, I kept a knife under my pillow too. I killed him and felt amazing. I burned the house with his body inside and realized how easy it is to be free. Roasted a hot dog on a stick over the flames." he chuckled fondly.
I tapped my pen against my paper. "I see. What age were you?" I asked.
"14 or 15." He guessed.
"And after?"
"Decided to try a career in comedy a few years later. Stand up. But my humor is ... Darker than most. I wasn't successful. The girl I loved decided she didn't love me back anymore… I think. Then, I met Batsy." His eyes sparkled
"Is any of that true?" I dead panned.
"You know, your guess is as good as mine!" That maniacal laugh was back and sent a chill down my spine. So much for learning something. He was just filling my ears with creative garbage. I crossed my arms and sat patiently. What a waste of time.
"Well, Mister J, I suppose we should end our session for the day. We are making no real progress." I said stiffly, loudly snapping my book closed.
"Oh, come on Pumpkin, don't be such a bad sport. And I get to be 'Mister J' now?" He teased. Oh shit, I hadn't even realized I had been saying that instead of Mister Joker and he called me out. Despite my best efforts my cheeks blushed in embarrassment. "I like it." He complimented with a flash of his grill.
"It's shorter." I tried lamely. He stood gracefully and slowly strode toward me.
"Cut the shit. You know, Doctor, I've quite enjoyed these past two sessions with you. I feel like you've enjoyed them as well." He leaned over me.
"You've got a highly intriguing mind. Or, at least I think you would if you actually let me inside of it." I shrugged. His closeness didn't bother me. He was restrained. As soon as the thought popped into my head his hands grabbed my throat and, like in the dream, cut off my air supply. My hands flew up to claw at his arms, but it did no good. How long had he been pretending to be restrained?
"You want a look into my mind? Right now I'm thinking about watching the life fade slowly from your pretty eyes and then carving a smile deeply into your cheeeeks." His words were spoken with intensity, but he let me go. "But you're too much fun, I'm not done with you yet. Was that 'intriguing' to you?" He sneered.
"You absolute psychopath!" I coughed and rubbed my tender neck.
"Yes ma'am?" He chuckled. One of his fingers fixed a few tendrils that had fallen out of place and brushed them behind my ear. He tilted my chin to look at him and he was closer than polite distance. "That's your problem, Harley, you're too serious. Just like the bat. Give Daddy a smile." He purred.
I stared at him incredulously. He was so close I could smell him. Clean with no nameable scent. He just sort of smelled like... The Joker. Sort of musky. And the way his eyes held onto mine, I felt like they saw too much... But I saw him too, I just didn't have a label for what I was seeing. I smiled and it wasn't even fake, which was scary and weird and I didn't understand it at all. I had to get back in control.
"Beautiful," he grinned, moving back to take his seat. Like last time we shortly sat in a comfortable silence. Before he left I heard "This is going to be fun."
I walked back to my office in a thoughtful daze. The story. Was it real or a spontaneous tale? I had been trying to read his body language for clues as to when he might've been lying but couldn't find a pattern. Most people subconsciously blinked twice or messed with their nails. If it was real, it was significant to the inner workings of his mind. I needed more. Knowledge felt like a drug.
I sat at my desk and added notes to his file while sipping on some tea. Very, very interesting.
By session four Joker slipping out of the straight jacket was to be expected. It was stormy today and he chose to lay down.
"Let's play a game." I grinned. "It'll to be a boring shrink game, but still, a game."
"Okay." He agreed, looking at me as I prepared my papers. That lovely electricity still charged the air around us, though I ignored it.
"It's basically word association but really fast. Like first thought, spit it out. 5 words a round, 3 rounds, try to beat your time." I explained, straightening my posture in the seat next to him and setting up the timer. "Kink." I started.
"Sex."
"Berate."
"Eliminate."
"Knife."
"Beautiful."
"Law enforcement."
"Filthy."
"Batman."
"Fun."
"Ten seconds." I wrote, as well as his answers. "Round two." I reset the timer. "Death."
"Expression."
"Sun."
"Light."
"Holiday."
"Uncomfortable."
"Cat."
"Resentment."
"Paint."
"Tool."
Scribble, scribble. "11 seconds. Round 3. Candle."
"Message."
"Unity."
"Destruction."
"Gotham."
"Mine." he growled.
"Gun."
"Money."
"Territory."
"Control." I looked at all of his answers. I had questions. Running my pen against my lips I tried to figure out where to start. "What's the verdict, doc?"
"Distrust of authority," I started slowly, still thinking. "Control issues. Why do you resent cats?" I asked curiously.
"I had a kitten at some point in time and I killed it. Snapped his neck." he answered.
"Why?"
"I can't remember." he said darkly. It was kind of scary. I really didn't want to push him with no restraints. But I was so curious...
"...why?" I asked again.
"Meds, electroshock therapy, various work-related concussions, exposure to toxins, take your pick. Let's talk about you, doctor." he sat up, bringing his face within inches of mine. Looking into his eyes, I smirked a bit and leaned toward him.
"We're out of time." I whispered in a slightly teasing way and stood. "See you Monday."
Today was Monday. My weekend was over. If I'm honest, I'd rather have been working. I would see Mister J again today. It was pretty routine at this point. Normally I wasn't much of a dreamer when I slept, but lately I had dreams (half of the time nightmares) every other day nearly consistently. Some were pleasant. Some were dirty in the best possible way (these were my private shame I would never admit to). Some made me sleep with the lights on and TV loud. The thing they all had in common was him.
Today would be our tenth session and I felt optimistic, like I had been making real progress. He even downgraded from the straight jacket to cuffs. He told me lots of stories and jokes and I wrote them all down as well as the way he said them. I couldn't find any pattern, though. Nothing that could be tied to when he was telling the truth. From our talks it was obvious his memories before meeting Batman were harder for him to remember.
Getting out of bed I tied a fluffy black robe that hung to my knees around my naked form. I leaned on the bathroom counter and looked at myself in the mirror. I wanted to do something... Different today. Normally I kept it basic; sensible shoes, shapeless top, bun (or ponytail) and minimal makeup. Brushing the knots from my wavy hair I did two identical French braids that rested against my back, leaving two blonde tendrils to curl around my face.
I rarely did anything special with my hair and I felt cute. But I wanted to look hot. I did the whole nine with my makeup. Face powder, blush, mascara, eye shadow, eyeliner and a dark berry lipstick. I winked at myself in the mirror. "Damn, baby, come here often?" I asked myself with a giggle. It was a good morning so far. And my favorite weather. Rainy. I pulled a dark grey pencil skirt from my closet and paired it with a classy white blouse. Hmm. Heels or Mary Janes? Fuck it, heels!
Grabbing my umbrella I decided to walk to work. I almost felt like whistling as I made my way through the wet Gotham streets, keep in mind I'm not at all a morning person. On my days off I slept until noon. But today I was practically burping rainbows.
I could see Wayne Tower a couple blocks away, a gorgeous building, though not even close to as beautiful as Bruce's home. I'd been there a time... Or two. For his charity parties of course. Not to mention he's good in the sack. Or, so I hear.
As I walked to my office a group of guards stared at me, their jaws hanging open. I giggled and gave them a fluttery wave. "Hi, boys! Beautiful day, huh?" I wasn't talking like Harleen, but more like myself. Less reserved. I doubted they even heard what I said but they all nodded and agreed. I continued to my office and got my things ready for the day. I had skipped breakfast, but brought a big lunch so I didn't mind.
After a while, a tell-tell knock yanked me out of my thoughts and my brows dented in confusion. Oh, shit, I zoned out and was late to my appointment with Joker. I grabbed my book and pen and rushed out the door, past Frank.
"Wow, Harleen, you look great." His eyes bugged out of his head. Nice drool, buddy.
"Thanks. And I thought I told you to call me Harley." I chided. The constant calling me by my full name annoyed me to no end.
"Sorry." He apologized, following easily with my hurried steps. "How was your weekend?" he asked.
"Pretty boring." I answered honestly. "What about you? Do anything interesting?"
"I went hiking with some friends out in the mountains. Do you like stuff like that?"
"I love hiking." I smiled politely as he took over for one of the guards guarding Joker's room. Opening the door I figured our conversation was over.
"You should come with me sometime. Maybe next weekend?" he asked a bit hesitantly.
"We'll see." I hedged.
"Well can I, uh, get you anything, or-" T
oo nice. That was my problem with Frank. I didn't want a man that was too nice. Where was the fun in that?
"Frankie boy, you can flirt with the good doctor after my session." Joker said in a bored tone, projecting his voice.
Frank glared at him and I swear I saw his finger twitch toward the trigger. I clenched my fist. "Listen here, clown. I've got the power to toss you in a cell and throw away the key whenever I feel like so you'd better show me some respect." He snarled in embarrassment at being called out.
"Oh, Frankie." He said cheerfully. Almost as if he were fond of him. Abruptly his tone changed to one of warning. "You'd better learn to keep that fat mouth of yours shut. It'll get you into trouble. Or maybe even darling little McKayla." The Jokers tone was deadly and it effectively shut Frank up.
"Frank, if you continue to have issues working with my patient I'll have to request a change." It was my turn to glare at Frank.
Frank's head turned to return the glare. "Point taken, Doctor." He sneered and left.
"Sorry about that." I apologized on Frank's behalf. "The cops and guards in this city, always beating on the sick and defenseless. The ones they're supposed to be helping. It makes me sick." I shook my head in disgust.
"Don't worry about me, toots. Trust me, I can handle myself." He smiled, looking me over. "Well the guards were right, don't you look mag-nif-i-cent today." He whistled lowly and licked his lips. I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. He looked at me like a man would look at a prime rib after not eating for a week.
"Thanks, Mister J. I felt like a change, the weather put me in a good mood." I grinned and rose from my seat. I set my notebook on the table and approached him. "Also, I have a surprise."
"Ooh, don't keep me waiting darling, deliver the punchline." He said excitedly. Slowly, I reached into my skirt pocket and pulled out a small silver key. His eyes followed the entire time like I was the most engrossing movie. My left hand reached down to grab his wrist and raise it so I could unlock him. His skin felt soft and I lingered possibly a bit longer than necessary. An impossible grin spread across his cheeks when the cuffs fell off. "You little minx, how ever did you get that?" He looked up to me and gently grabbed one of my braids.
"It's part of your therapy. How can you grow to trust me being restrained like that? At least, that's what I asked Doctor Arkham." I grinned, reaching to untangle his hand from my hair. "Very unprofessional, sir." I faux chided, retaking my seat. "It didn't hurt that there haven't been any altercations or, er, attempts on your part."
His eyes followed me. "Have you ever had a really bad day, Harley?" He asked somewhat seriously. His quick change of tone took me by surprise, but I was eager for the conversation.
"Well of course I have. Hasn't everyone?" I asked. He laid on the couch with one arm casually supporting his head. I moved my chair to sit closer to him so I could observe his movements and facial expressions. I did this with every patient that chose to lie down but I'll admit I chose to sit closer to the Clown Prince I had grown somewhat fond of. The damn man I dreamt about far too much. My feelings toward him were strange and I probably understood them less than anyone.
"Tell me about it." He said shortly. Not a request.
"We're here to talk about you." I denied, shaking my head.
"Harley," he said in the same warning tone he had used with Frank. I sighed in defeat and closed my book, sinking into the chair.
"I dated this boy a few years ago when I was 21. Daniel." I said bitterly. Even his name left a bad taste in my mouth. "We hadn't been going out long, maybe two months but I was crazy about him. We went out to a club one night and I had a drink or three. It was fun for a while, I love to dance. He introduced me to his friends I'd heard so much about. I was excited, he was ready to let me fully be apart of his world. Well, mostly, I hadn't met his parents yet." The Joker sat up, listening intently. It made me uncomfortable. "There were three of his friends. All men bigger than I am. But I didn't pick up a bad vibe. We all hung out and drank more, played some darts. Then, it was time to go." I paused. I didn't want to talk about this. Not with him. It was my biggest shame. I didn't continue.
"Keep talking." It was clear I had no choice.
"... We all took one car, but instead of going home or dropping them off we drove far to the outskirts of town. One of their houses I guess. I don't know. I asked to go home and Daniel laughed and said we were gonna hang out for a minute. So I said okay and we went inside." I paused, playing with my braid.
"Just chill, Harley, Jesus." Daniel rolled his eyes.
"I'm tired and you told me you were talking me home." I snapped. I always got bitchy when I was tired.
"Can you just chill the fuck out?" He asked, furrowing his brows in annoyance. "Or I could make you."
"Excuse me?"
"Come here, baby...". He grabbed me from behind, cupping my breast with one hand and reaching into my panties with the other one.
"Cut it out!" I turned and pushed him away. "Fuck it, I'll call a cab. Goodnight." I spat, heading for the door.
"I don't think that pill worked, man, she's too angry. Come here, lil mama, I'll make you feel okay." His tall, red head friend said. It was impossible to ignore the bad vibes now and the seriousness of the situation sat in.
"Gimme that phone and stop being rude." Daniel said, snatching my phone and throwing it against the wall. He grabbed my arm impossibly tight, like he might snap it.
"Ow! I'll scream." I warned. He just laughed at me as the others advanced.
"Please do. No one will hear you." he promised.
"Long story short they pinned me down and took turns. It was horrible, every single second. I bled. A lot. And when I would try and scream they would push my face into the dirty floor." My eyes started to water. I clearly remembered the strong scent of mildew, sweat, and coppery blood. Fuck. I took a shaky deep breath. "When the last one was done I found a vantage point and kicked him off of me. Thank God I was in gymnastics, my muscles were stronger than some of theirs. And good thing they were tired. I tried to fight them. All four of them. Two I got down but they started to win and I bailed and ran back to town still naked. My clothes were beyond ripped, there was no point in trying to retrieve them. The best part was it was raining. They tried to follow me so I ran through the woods. Cut the hell out of my feet but I kept going until I got back to town. The looks I got! Luckily the rain washed the blood from between my legs away. I can only imagine how I looked. I was shaking and scared, but one woman called the police to help. I got hypothermia." And chlamydia, but there was no way in hell I was telling him that. "It took me years to deal with it emotionally. I moved and didn't press charges. I never want to see him again."
"And what was his last name?" The Joker asked curiously.
"Doesn't matter." I didn't even want to be talking about myself to begin with and now all of these memories were dredged up. My professional advice to myself was to write a long detailed letter to Daniel and burn it. I laughed inwardly. Yeah, right.
"Harley, I'm getting mad and I'm not restrained."
"Like that's different from any other session." I said sourly. "It's Hunt. Are you happy now?" I asked sharply through brows dented in anger. I hated the way he was speaking to me. He stood and yanked me up by my neck. My things fell to the floor but I grabbed my pen. My right fist came to swing around and punch him in the face, busting his bottom lip. He didn't drop me, only squeezed tighter. Maybe he had a fetish for neck play. If I could breath I would've laughed. Black spots started popping up in my vision and he shoved me hard against the wall. My head hit with a solid smack. Fight or flight mode kicked in and my pen came down to stab him in the right arm. He cursed and dropped me. I fell to the floor and quickly stood, which seemed impossible in my heels unsteady body. The air hit my deprived brain and I felt like I could think again. I kicked my heels off and gripped one as a weapon. I went to strike him and he caught my arm. My other fist went to hit him again and he caught that one too. The pen was still securely lodged in his arm.
We looked at each other both panting from the commotion. I don't know what came over me, I really don't. Maybe it was the high from the adrenaline, or maybe I just couldn't handle the tension anymore. I kissed him. Hard. Kissing him was something new. Something forbidden. The taste of his lips was indescribable and delicious. He tasted like danger. Animalistic, he kissed me back shoving me again hard against the wall once more. He trapped me on either side and my arms came to wrap around his neck in a death grip. My left leg hitched around his waist and pulled his middle closer. Hands went everywhere. I felt the taut muscles of his chest and it was hard not to slip my fingers under his Arkham sweats, but I resisted. This was already crossing such a huge line. His hand moved to yank roughly at my braids. Abruptly the kiss broke and he harshly gripped my jaw and forced me to look up at him.
"See what you made me do? Don't test me again or I might actually have to kill you, Pumpkin. Understand?" He asked, gripping tighter. I nodded furiously. Why had I pushed him like that? It was playing with fire. But playing with fire had gotten me kissed. The blood from his busted lip was on my face. I stroked the offended skin of his face, smearing the blood further.
"Sorry I busted your lip, Mistah J." I frowned, not realizing I didn't even bother trying to sound like Harleen anymore. My accent slipped through. "And stabbed ya with a pen."
"Don't let-" Without warning Frank burst into the room, gun ready. He saw me trapped against the wall and the way Joker had me. At the sound of the door opening I dropped my hand from his face and licked the blood from my lip like my life depended on it. The Joker stilled my wrist. "Harleen! I thought I heard something hit the wall. Get away from her, Joker! I'll shoot!"
"Ham it up, doll." The Joker whispered to me. I nodded with my eyes.
"Frank, thank God! Help me!" I yelled, struggling to get away. Two orderlies in white uniforms pointed tranquilizer guns at the Joker and shot him twice.
"Oh, Frankie, calm down." His words came out slower and his grip on me loosened. "I was... Just having fun... With the good do-" he fell to the floor unconscious. As prior mentioned, I'm not a crier, but I cried like my life depended on it. Barefoot I ran to Frank. The orderlies picked him up and noticed the pen in his arm.
"I'm glad we were close." One of them grunted to the other.
"Thank you Frank." I hammed it up, as instructed. "You're a lifesaver. Literally." I laughed uneasily.
"No problem. I hate to think if you had ended up like Joan." He said in a heavy tone. I hated that the session was cut short. More than that I hated seeing the Joker unconscious on the floor of this dirty place. "You should probably go talk to Doctor Arkham." He suggested. "Are you okay?" He looked me over.
"My jaws a little sore and I have a headache, but I'm fine. You're right, I think I will go talk to him." That was the last thing I wanted to do. The old man would remove me from his case. But I was determined not to let that happen. I'd try whatever tricks I had up my sleeve. I realized I never got to hear where he was going by asking about my bad day. It was never as simple as a question with him.
I tapped at his door and let myself in. "Hello, Harley. Are you okay, you look a bit shaken. He didn't try anything did he?" He asked quickly.
"Actually yes. But everything's okay. I'm fine." I assured him.
"Give me that key back immediately. This was a horrible idea." He said bitterly.
"But it wasn't." I said with a bit of energy as I passed back the key. "I think I broke through a wall today." My eyes locked with his. Bullshit, but he'd never know.
"Really?" He asked hesitantly with a cock of his head.
"Yes. Please Doctor Arkham. Don't do anything drastic. I'm making progress."
"If you think I'll let it continue as it has been your wrong."
"Put him back in a jacket and give me a tranquilizer gun just in case." I suggested. Jeremiah's fingers drummed against the desk.
"He didn't hurt you?" He reiterated.
"I stabbed him with my pen before he could."
"Good thinking. Okay, Harley. He's spending two days in solitary confinement and he's all yours WITH a straight jacket and WITH a tranquilizer gun in your possession. If something like this happens again I'm pulling the plug no questions asked." He said seriously.
"Crystal clear." And it was. Arkham couldn't have another death under its belt, especially so soon. It had only been two months since Joan's passing.
The whole rest of the day I thought about our little rumble. My fingers traced my lips. I felt horrible about him having to spend 48 hours completely alone in a dark dingy room. What had happened?
I had gotten comfortable with him in our past sessions. I didn't mind spending time with him, he entertained me. And always had questions. He was interested in me.
Bubbles covered me in a hot bath in my apartment. I rubbed my sore jaw. What the hell had come over me? I not only fought with him, but kissed him too! I'd be fired on the spot if anyone knew. And then when Frank came in he took the fall so I wouldn't have to. I wanted to be with him. But I was here and he was there. In three days I could see him again. It was far too long. I chided myself for my thoughts. Half of me was disgusted. Lately I disagreed with myself quite a bit.
When my bath failed to settle me I focused on an old hobby. Drawing (with a glass of wine). I drew myself as a jester. HARLEY QUINN THE HARLEQUIN I wrote in big letters. The way it was drawn I was sort of a circus act doing daring gymnastics. The costume was cute. Quirky. Perfect. I thought back to the fight. He had easily overtaken me. I hated that. I wanted to stand my ground. I'd have to strengthen my body. I longed to be strong again.
I went to the gym and stayed for a few hours. Running, push-ups, jumping jacks, squats, crunches. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. My mind was made up. I was determined. I even practiced my old tricks. I could still do a backspring but not a front walkover. I was rusty. The next morning I couldn't move an inch and had to call in. But I already felt stronger. Safer.