Mad Quinn
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to the movie TDK and the comic series.
Origins of Harley Quinn for chapter four: Harleen Quinzel was once a career-oriented psychologist whose life took a radical turn when she chose to spend a semester interning at Arkham Asylum.
Chapter Four: Free
After the interesting introduction with her latest patient, Harleen found it difficult to even stand.
Mr. Todd met her with a shrewd smile. "I'm quite curious to what your thoughts are on," He cleared his throat, "The Joker."
Harleen ran her hands down her outer robe, leveling the wrinkles. She honestly didn't know what to think. "I have a long way to go. Both of us do."
"I can tell the introduction wore you out." Mr. Todd commented courteously. "So feel free to have the rest of the day off."
Harleen visibly deflated. She actually looked forward to working. She wouldn't have to think too much. Working would keep her mind busy. Instead, now she'd be stuck in her hotel room—going over every little thing the Joker said to her.
Her boss noticed her troubled look and misunderstood her. "Don't worry about Sadie and Tommy. You're no longer their doctor. Since the Joker is obviously the most challenging patient here at the moment, I decided to relieve you of Tommy and Sadie. We have plenty of other doctors to care for them."
Harleen was horrified. "What? I can't just abandon my patients. Please excuse my manners, but Mr. Todd, I refuse to leave them."
Mr. Todd's smile disappeared. "I strongly suggest you to devote your time on the Joker, Doctor Quinzel."
Even Harleen could tell that Mr. Todd would give her no choice. But that didn't mean she couldn't try to talk him out of it.
"What if I divide the time up?" Harleen proposed. "You know, give each one of them the same amount—"
"—The Joker is Gotham's main priority at the moment." Mr. Todd cut in. He absorbed Harleen's terrified eyes and frowned sympathetically. "You're welcome to visit them, that is, when you have time."
Harleen didn't know what to say. Her vocal chords felt frozen. Her lips were dry. It was suddenly hard to swallow.
It was hard to even think.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Harleen said shakily, hurrying out of the room. Just as she closed the metal door behind her, she let a single tear slide down her cheek.
Penny immediately took notice of Harleen's crestfallen expression when Harleen was unbuttoning her white robe.
"What's with you?" Penny asked.
"Nothing." Harleen muttered.
"You look like somebody died. Who died? Someone related to you?"
Oh I wish. Harleen froze. Since when did she think such ugly thoughts, especially about her family? Even though Harleen rarely ever found herself missing her parents, she would never wish they would die. What was wrong with her?
She felt like slapping herself. And then instantly felt confused of the violent thought.
"Mr. Todd won't let me take care of Sadie and Tom anymore." Harleen confessed moodily. "But I-I can't just leave them! I spent all that time with them—focused on nothing but helping them, and now I have to leave them! All that time was wasted. For nothing."
Penny blinked. None of this information seemed to affect her, much to Harleen's disappointment. The young doctor thought she could at least talk to someone who could understand. But all she got was someone who cared more about makeup and hair products.
"So basically, you're fired?" Penny asked bluntly.
Harleen nearly fainted. "Oh no way! I'm taking care of someone else now."
"Who?"
"Apparently someone big." Harleen sighed. "I need to get home and get some rest. I think I'm just gonna stay in bed all day." Yeah and hide under the covers like a baby.
"No, no, no," Penny gave Harleen a crazy look. "Girl, I know exactly what you need. When was the last time you went out?"
"I went to a Chinese restaurant yesterday."
"No, not that. But, like out to a bar or pub. You know."
Harleen's eyes widened. Once she got out of high school, she basically stayed cooped up in an apartment, reading books thicker than a tire. Once in awhile she'd visit some friends, but not once had she went to a bar or pub. Not once.
Nor did she want to. Harleen was disgusted by beer, especially by drinkers. The beverage made your breath smell horrible, and it made you look so stupid. And if there was anything Harleen greatly despised, that was looking stupid. What was the point of getting drunk—where was the excitement; fun? She just couldn't understand.
"In a long time." Harleen grumbled.
"Well tonight you're coming with me." Penny grinned. "I'll pick you up at your place. No, you know what? I'm going to come to your place and fix you up. You never look like you even brush your hair, no offense. Have you ever even worn makeup?"
Harleen diverted her eyes. Her looks really didn't matter to her. "I find other things important."
"Yeah and look where that got you. Look, you're a beautiful girl. Really. I can tell you have gorgeous blue eyes, but nobody would be able to see them if you're hiding them with those hideous glasses. No offense. And your skin is flawless, but a bit of powder would really a catch some attention."
I'm not here to catch attention, Harleen thought, suddenly shy. Since when did she feel shy? Oh yeah, since it came to reality of course. Or prom.
"So go home," Penny ordered softly, "and I'll call you when my shift is over. Alright? We're going to have some fun today."
Harleen opened her mouth to object—to deny Penny's companionship, but something caught in her throat. Something made her shut her mouth and grab her belongings. Something shut her mouth until she was walking to her car, and then she realized what trouble she got herself into.
She pressed her forehead against her car window and sighed. Today sure wasn't going well. The bad thing about drinking, for her, was because when she was drunk, she tended to lose her modesty. Big time.
She only drank twice. And they were both at high school parties. Almost everyone was drunk, and half naked. Harleen, of course, was completely naked and didn't even mind. Alcohol seemed to fog her mind, erasing all her morals and thoughts about how she should act. It made her feel hot and sexy, which definitely wasn't good at all.
And she didn't want to feel hot or sexy. Because she wasn't. Harleen peered into the window of her car, studying her reflection. A boring brunette doctor stared back at her with thick, heavy classes. Extremely thin cheeks stared back at her, offering no cute dimples or any sign of smile. She frowned. Penny was wrong. She surely wasn't beautiful. She had a small chest, a tiny butt, and had absolutely no curves.
"You think you're so beautiful, don't ya Harleen?"
Harleen shut her eyes, that voice echoing in her mind endlessly. It was her father. And then her voice chimed in her head—her 13 year-old defenseless cry.
"Look Daddy, I'm a princess! I have the lipstick on and the pretty dress!"
"You look like nothing but a little whore!"
She shook her head. Now was definitely wasn't the time to think about her father.
"Hey you," A voice sounded behind her. Harleen slowly peered over her shoulder, seeing a man dressed entirely in black with a mask covering his features. She held back a groan, noticing the silver gun in his gloved hands. "Give me your money."
Oh the typical line. Give me your money. What next? She thought bitterly, backing up from the car.
"Give me your purse, lady!" The man snarled, gesturing towards the purse in Harleen's hand.
If only he knew I had nothing in this purse. I only carry it around for this kind of situation. My money's actually in the purse at home. Harleen thought wisely, proud of being prepared.
"Fine, fine," Harleen said calmly, tossing her "empty" purse casually at the masked man. He caught it effortlessly, the gun still pointed in Harleen's direction.
Wait, Harleen thought in surprise. His gun isn't loaded…
"Now stay where you are," He ordered, struggling to open the purse with one hand. Harleen calmed down, seeing that she was no longer in jeopardy. "Or I'll shoot you to kingdom come."
He finally got it open, and while he was peering into the empty purse, Harleen decided to act. She sprung forward and punched him fully in the jaw. Pain flared in her knuckle, but she ignored it and watched the man fall to the ground from the blow.
"What the—" he gasped, realizing he was tricked. Harleen stood over him calmly, holding out her hand for her purse. The man returned her purse reluctantly.
"Next time," Harleen told him smugly, "you should make sure your gun is even loaded."
"What the hell!" The man exclaimed. "You punch harder than my older brother!"
Harleen inwardly smiled, but she kept her face passive. "It's amazing what adrenaline does to you, isn't it?"
"No, you punched like.." The man was gaping in horror. "Who are you?"
"I'm Doctor Harleen Quinzel."
Harleen found herself quite peeved that the man was so surprised when she punched him.
She sat on her couch, staring off into space. Why was it such a shock? Did she look weak? Did he think that because she was a young woman that she was weak?
So what if I know how to fight? It's better than getting shot.
Time passed progressively, and before Harleen knew it, her cell phone rang. She answered it.
"Hello?"
"Hey Harleen. It's me, Penny." Harleen mentally frowned. She forgot, because of the previous situation, that she was going to refuse to go out.
"Oh, hi. About earlier, I really don't feel like going out. I'm so tired."
Penny laughed. "Oh, girl, I'm already halfway to your hotel! What room are you?"
How the heck does she know what hotel I'm in?
"Room 21." Harleen said indifferently.
"Well I'll see you there in five minutes!" She hung up.
Harleen dropped the phone, not caring how it cracked. She buried her head in her hands. She really didn't feel like going out. Heck, she didn't even own anything meant for going out. All she had were clothes meant for work and such. This was going to be a disaster. A night she would regret.
A nightmare.
Penny was quite determined to get Harleen fixed up. She brought over an outfit for the young doctor, some makeup, and hair products.
The moment Penny walked in, Harleen knew perfectly well she had no choice but to go.
"Your hair is actually really healthy." Penny complimented Harleen as she brushed her brown locks. Harleen closed her eyes tightly, wincing occasionally when Penny brushed a bit too hard. Her hands were gripping tightly onto the arms of the chair. "Did you know you get bald faster if you put your hair up all the time?"
"Yes I knew that." Harleen eyed Penny vigilantly when Penny grabbed a curling iron. "Now don't worry—I'm an expert when it comes to curling irons. Just don't move, alright?"
Harleen found it very uncomfortable at first, hearing the steam come from her hair on account of the high temperature of the iron. But then she began to feel relaxed, and then found herself actually liking it how Penny ran her hands through her hair, which currently lacked its usual tangles.
She felt her hair brushing her shoulders, which was unusual for her. It wasn't as long as she remembered it, probably because it was curly from the work from Penny's hands.
And then Penny was crouching in front of her, with a powder brush in her hand. "Close your mouth and eyes." Harleen obeyed, and felt Penny brush all the powdery powder all over her face. At first it felt odd, and she wanted to just wash the entire gunk off. And then, when Penny was applying her eyeliner, she felt…different.
After half an hour of makeup applying and curling, Penny put a mirror in front of Harleen. Harleen was afraid to see what she looked like.
Her mouth dropped open. Her skin was flawlessly pale—absolutely gorgeous, adding to its texture. And her hair…her hair was the best part of her. It was in carefully formed curls, gently adding style to her skinny frame of her face. Part of her long bangs hung in her eyes, giving her a mysterious look. But her eyes…the eyeliner made the deep blue pop, and she knew just what her eyes looked like. Her lips were plump and glossy. A tint of blush was apparent on her cheeks.
Needless to say, Harleen was baffled beyond words. Who was that person she was staring at? She looked like a movie star! She certainly wasn't the psychiatrist working at Arkham Asylum! She couldn't be!
If anything, Harleen Quinzel, did indeed, looked hot and sexy.
"Now," Penny said with a victorious smirk, "time to get dressed."
Minutes later, Harleen stood in front of a full-length mirror, looking at a crimson red shirt with black designs on one side. The shirt was a bit odd for her taste, but Harleen noticed that it matched her. Penny let her keep the shirt, saying it was absolutely perfect for her and the latest fashion, and let her wear some tight jeans. Harleen honestly didn't like the jeans. It felt like they would rip if she bent over.
"You look," Penny stated, "amazing. Seriously. That shirt looks so great on you! Good thing I buy off the internet."
Harleen held back a smile. She did look beautiful. And she liked it. She liked the makeup, the way her hair looked, and how the eyeliner made her eyes more apparent. Maybe she should buy herself some makeup…
Penny was decked out in a tight tank top and a mini skirt. Her hair was teased messily, and her eyes looked really smoky. Harleen personally thought she looked a bit skanky, but said nothing.
"Let's go." Penny finally said.
The bar was loud. Very loud.
Harleen felt her hands trembling as they walked to the front. Even from the outside she could hear the pounding music.
"Right now it looks intimidating," Penny said. "But once we get inside and get you a beer, it'll be better. I promise."
Harleen really didn't like it when she walked in. People were brushing against her, dancing a bit too close, and the smell of alcohol hung in the air heavily. It looked smoky and disgusting.
They both sat down at a bar. Penny ordered two beers, and Harleen sat stiffly, perfect posture.
She looked out of place. Even in all the clothing and makeup, she still looked as sophisticated as ever. Her mood darkened. This was wrong. She should've never have come. She doesn't belong here. She belongs at her hotel, working on her career.
She took a sip of the beer. She winced. It burnt her throat. She took another drink. It still burned, but the burning lessened. She took another drink. Penny was talking to her, but Harleen zoned her out.
Soon Harleen ordered another drink. She felt light headed.
Then she ordered another. She felt weightless.
Another came. She drank. She felt…gorgeous. Sexy. Hot.
Invincible.
She took a long gulp, swaying a bit on the chair. Penny was now talking to some biker guy. Harleen's world tipped as she almost fell from the chair, but managed to regain her balance at the last second.
"Take it easy," The bartender said, giving Harleen a surprised look.
Harleen giggled. Since when did the world seem so free?
She took off her jacket.
Next she took off her glasses. Harleen told the bartender to watch them.
"If someone breaks them or you lose them," She told him, "I'll take your eyes."
He nodded, now going pale.
Harleen giggled at his expression, finding it funny.
"You know what makes people tick?" She asked a random girl. The girl shrugged. "This." She made a goofy face, making her eyes go cross eyed. The girl walked off in a hurry as Harleen began giggling wildly.
That attracted some attention.
Harleen watched everyone's expression. Most were serious, deeply absorbed in a conversation, or just dazing out of it. A smile was imprinted on her face, her crimson red lipstick making her smile eerie. "You know what? I think everyone needs to put a big smile on their face. Why so sad? Smile!" Harleen smiled bigger, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Everyone looks so sad! Did you know it takes more muscles to frown than to smile?"
Some people hurried past her, not bothering to even listen. Some, however, stayed to listen to the drunken woman's rant.
"Why be sad? No, no, you, uh, you know what the best, uh, medicine is?" Harleen said. Her voice was slurred from the alcohol. "Laughter. Trust, uh, me—it's works. It works real good."
"Ma'am would you like something?" The bartender cut in. "Something to eat? I personally think you had enough beer."
"Food is good. I like it. I like it real good." Harleen broke off into another fit of laughter. "See? It's working!"
"Would you care to dance?" A man was suddenly behind Harleen. Harleen looked up to see a man with dark hair and a charming face. She grinned.
Why did he suddenly look so handsome, even though she didn't even know him?
Without even thinking, she fell from the chair, falling into the man's arms. She kissed him roughly, grabbing a tight hold of his collared shirt for better access. The alcohol was swarming through her head. She didn't even feel his lips moving against hers. Or how he grabbed her waist and pressed her closer. Nor did she feel his tongue dancing with hers. She didn't even have the chance to smell his masculine cologne.
"Hmmm," He hummed against her lips. Harleen broke away, giggling crazily, hugging him tightly. He sure was handsome. Well dressed, and a polite aura to him.
"What's your name?" He asked her kindly.
"Who cares?" She shot back, twirling in the air. She felt like she was walking on the moon—no gravity there to hold her down. "A name is a name. Doesn't mean anything."
"But a name represents a reputation." He shot back. "My name's Bruce Wayne."
The world stilled. Harleen froze, the music seemed louder than it previously did. As if the man was on fire, Harleen shot away from him, gaping in pure shock.
Bruce. Bruce Wayne? The Bruce Wayne? The rich and famous guy that owned that entire business?
She touched her lips with her index finger, shocked beyond belief. Was she seriously making out with him moments before—with this millionaire?
No way.
"Told you." He stated. "Now I don't believe we're done here." He smiled a smile that sent Harleen over the edge. How could his smile fascinate her so much? How his eyed crinkled, or how his teeth were perfectly in line?
Bile was rising to her throat. "Gotta go," Was all she said before Harleen dashed for the bathroom. She shoved a woman away, accidentally knocking her into the wall roughly, before practically diving into a stall. She didn't even have time to close the door before she threw up into the toilet.
The night suddenly didn't seem so great.
She began crying as she threw up. Her stomach lurched, and her entire body jerked as she unloaded all the alcohol she drank. Her hands were shaking. Her lips were dry. Her hair kept getting in the way, and she had to hold it back.
Finally, after an eternity, Harleen stood up and sobbed into her hands. How could she have made such an idiot of herself? She should've never have came here in the first place—nonetheless drink all that beer!
"Have a sip, Harleen." Her father's harsh voice sounded mockingly. "You'll like it. It's beer. It makes everything better."
You're wrong, she thought miserably. Her stomach was empty. Now she really felt terrible.
She limped out of the bathroom, not bothering to look in the mirror. She didn't care how good she looked. Looks mean nothing to her—they never did.
She was surprised to see that man waiting for her. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." She told him weakly.
"Would you like a ride home?"
"No." I'll have to call a taxi. Penny was nowhere to be found.
"Fine. I won't bother you." He said. "But tell me one thing. What's your name?"
Her head ached. Harleen desperately wanted to go back to the hotel and drink some water. She wanted to be somewhere where she wasn't confused.
"Harleen." Was all she said, before she made her way out of the bar.
I was right. This did turn out to be a nightmare.
A/N: Haha I HAD to put Bruce Wayne into this. It's quite obvious he really doesn't seriously like Harleen, he only wanted sex and stuff ;p But that's how he is anyway ^-^ I love Bruce Wayne though! Haha not as much as the Joker ;p Anyway, thanks for the awesome reviews! Seriously! And sorry for the long wait, I've been sooo busy :D Chapter soon to come! And sorry for the Joker not being in this, he'll be in the rest though! Just keep in mind I want to develop Harleen's character ;)
~YolandaFriella
