A Far Fetching Tale – A New Beginning
It wasn't until a few more incidents later that Harlequin finally pushed a little too hard. And Joker responded, the only way he could. With dark actions, that fateful night. It was the worst and best night so far.
Not only did everyone now know exactly who she was. Well her career thrived on it. And the staff and colleges at Arkham were either too scared and lived in fear if they fired her, but also knew that Harleen was a brilliant Doctor, that she charmed her way through the other Doctor's and actually helped her patients, unlike others there. Many speculations over Jonathan Crane were rumored, but never were denied. She didn't find the man very interesting, he kept to himself, but often glared at her in the hallways when passing.
But it also meant that her relationship with Joker was steadily falling apart. Harlequin new she couldn't use Joker to her advantage anymore. And just like a quiet snake, she would wait patiently and silently for it again, to favor her, before striking. Devastation would always follow. It always did with her.
Anyone would think that the relationship between Harleen and Harlequin were the same. You'd think wrong. Harlequin is what you'd call a 'demon' living inside Harleen. Poor sweet innocent Harleen. She really couldn't help it at all. And you really wouldn't exactly like to say no to someone who could kill you in without thinking, only to the fact that you share the same body. But Harlequin was working on that.
No. It wasn't until that moment when Joker pushed her out of that plane. When she was spinning around in such a flurry, that she knew she was aligned to something far bigger. And then Batman swooped in and caught her from certain death. It wasn't until then, safe in his strong arms that her feelings changed. Once enemies before this last incident, always throwing punches and bickering, almost like a married couple. Their fights filled with blood, taunts and promises. Harlequin hated Batman more than she hated Harleen, and that was saying something.
But Harleen soon fell in love with Batman, and all that he stood for. So for once in her life, the blonde won that argument. Once safe, he plopped her down, waiting for her to swing another punch or insult, telling him she didn't need help and that the next time he wouldn't be so lucky as to walk away, or something of the sort, when she looked star stuck towards him. He blinked, and suddenly didn't know what to do. Which made him uneasy. "Do I need to take you back to Arkham, this time to the cells, or are you going to drop the act and take a hold of your life?" He had to give her a choice. And especially since the look in her eyes weren't filled with defiance this time.
Harleen nodded and smiled softly. "Thank you. I know it's a lot to ask, but I appreciate it. I hope I don't see you again." Her words held a silent promise, hoping she wouldn't, but then again – and she reached out to touch his cheek. "But I hope I do." Before he could react, she spun around and disappeared out of sight from the docks they had landed on. Only Harleen didn't hear the whispered words of promise from his own mouth before creeping back into the shadows to keep watch over his City.
The next morning when Harleen awoke, she dressed in her grey pencil skirt, peach blouse, black rimmed glasses and heels and drove to work with a smile on her red lips. Once at her desk, and skimming thought paper work, files and notes, she sighed a little and rubbed at her now tired eyes, desperately needing coffee. And with that thought, she got up and headed out to the common room. Her heels clicked and clacked on the concrete, her off white coat blowing a little behind her as she walked, deep in thought about Batman and his own actions the last night, only before slamming straight into something solid.
A small cry escaped her lips and was about to fall right on her ass, when strong arms caught her, holding her still against his body. His soft voice in her ear sent a delightful shiver down her spine. "Are you alright Miss?" She swallowed down, a little embarrassed about how clumsy she was. You wouldn't have figured that a woman of her status was a complete klutz, but here she was stumbling over her own feet. "I- I uh, thanks." She held herself steady with the help of his biceps. Looking up into his eyes, she gasped loudly, eyes wide, a shiver sliding down her spine and something tightening in her stomach.
Those eyes! So familiar, extraordinary, but frightening. Something briefly flickered into her own blue pools, but then it was gone, not realizing who he was until he let go of her and she could see his name badge pinned to his exquisite suit.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Mr. Wayne, my apologies. I didn't see you, too busy caught up in my own head, and I didn't mean to – and who really would bump into you if they knew who you were. Then again, who doesn't know who you are, because you're only the Bruce Wayne." She didn't even have a moment to catch her breath and kept going, because she was too flustered with his eyes watching her so intently. "Fuck, sorry, I called you Bruce without meaning too. Then said 'fuck', and then I was too busy thinking about someone else and th—"
She was cut off with her incessant babbling when he put his finger to her lips. Looking at him with wide eyes, she bit her tongue and waited.
"It's fine, really." He chuckled at the colour on her cheeks. And then he looked down at his finger on her plump and delicious looking lips. There was an ache, deep inside his chest, that one moment of longing to just kiss her then and there. But then she broke the moment and looked down at his finger on her lips, making him laugh because it crossed her eyes funnily. He took his digit away and grinned. "It seemed you needed help being quiet."
He expected her to laugh, maybe throw a line his way admitting that she talked a lot and then would blush and he'd hear her girly laugh, but instead, she frowned and grit her teeth. He could almost see her forcing herself to be polite. He was shocked, and then it turned into something of delight mixed with curiosity. "I'm not some stupid bimbo; I know how to shut up. Sheesh, take a compliment when you see it." The frown lessened and she put her hands into her pockets. "Now, can I help you?" He grinned a little and nodded. "Actually, yes. I was looking for you. You're Harleen, right?"
This time it was her turn to be shocked. She masked it well enough though and straightened up. "It's Doctor Quinzel, and what is it that you'd like from me?"
Bruce had to bite his tongue from telling her exactly what he really wanted to do to her; he was here on work business, not leisure. "Since Wayne Enterprises funds Arkham, we need to know what its staff gets up to and if they're actually doing their jobs. Patients need to be tended to. I was told that you're second Chief of Psychology here? Perhaps you could show me around the place, fill me in some more."
Harleen blinked. "Why didn't they get Crane to come and help you out? He's head of Psychology." She frowned and didn't notice the dark shadow in his own blue eyes that flickered across his face, before giving a little shrug. "Oh well, his loss. Now you're stuck with me." Flashing that bedazzling grin of hers at him, she tugged him along. He walked willingly alongside her, looking around the place.
"This is 'Level A Ward', it's for the more serious patients in the Asylum. Basically those who can't or won't communicate with us, and those who are dangerous not only to staff or others but themselves as well." Bruce nodded and then frowned, stopping to look into the cell. In his cot, with his back to them, was a little boy, no more than six years old, was clothed only in a straight jacket. Harleen caught the look on Bruce's face, and a pang of pain sliced her heart.
"He's one of my patients." Bruce turned to look at her looking at the little boy almost…lovingly? "Charlie Cranston. Lovely little boy. I met him a couple of times before the incident. Always smiling and bouncing off the walls, like any kid would. I took to him after we first met, and when I suddenly got his file…" The blonde trailed off, sadness clear in her eyes. "What happened?" Wayne turned to look back at Charlie, wondering what could have possibly done this to such an innocent boy.
It took a moment before she answered but when she did; Bruce could hear the certainty in her voice. "His baby sister was murdered right in front of him, and then one night soon after, he snapped. Killed his parents while they slept. Told police his baby sister's spirit told him to do it." She fell silent and placed a hand to the glass as if to touch the boy to help calm him. And then she sighed. "I believe him. But I can't prove his actions. I know the parents killed the little girl, I believe that her spirit pushed him to take vengeance."
She sounded so sure, Bruce almost believed with her. Almost. But there was no such thing as ghosts and spirits… Right? He shook his head. "You sound like you know how it feels to take vengeance?" He raised a questioning eyebrow towards the blonde, waiting to see what she would do. Instead she dropped her hand, and took on a blank expression, her ocean eyes far away. Then turned and kept walking.
The male frowned even harder and caught pace with her once more.
"So, I assume you've kept him on some kind of medication?" He probed her to keep with the tour. "Yes, unfortunately. A boy so young, the medication he's being given will most likely give him brain damage by the time he's eighteen. Since his brain is still developing, the drugs will…rot his cortex." Harleen came to a stop at the end of the hallway, and then turned back to Bruce. "I wish I could help him other than just telling him I'm here for him. I wish I could take away his pain, his fear. I wish he would speak to me. I used to be so in tune with people. Read them like books."
This time, Harleen noticed the flicker behind Bruce's eyes; perhaps she wasn't as far off as she thought. "Is that a good thing…or bad?" It took a moment for her to respond. "Perhaps both."
Then silence.
Harleen wasn't willing to add anything to that, and Bruce wasn't going to break the silence, sneaking glances when the other thought they weren't looking. And then Bruce spoke up recalling what she had said earlier. "He must have really caught your eye, huh?" The Doctor blinked and then passed him a confused glance. "You said you were thinking of someone when you nearly toppled us both over. Not to mention the massive smile on your lips too."
Suddenly she was flustered…and stuttering. "I- I well, he's.." She tried to find the right word to even describe him, but she couldn't and stood blank. "Like that, eh?" He asked, getting a nod in response. "He just kinda swooped in…" But her smile fell short and she sighed. "I don't think he would go for a gal like me anyways." Bruce snorted. "Why's that then?" Tilting his head, he hoped that she would give a good excuse, and again, was startled when she blurted out the near truth. "I'm not who you think I am. I'm not a good person. But I'm trying to make amends. I want peace."
Bruce could see it then, how true her words meant. Not just them being words, but the powerful emotion behind them. That's what he wanted to hear. So he just nodded with a smile. "I think he felt it too. He'd be lucky to have a woman like you, what's life worth living if you don't at least try, hmm?" She blinked, then blushed and bumped his shoulder playfully with her own. "That's usually one of my lines. But thanks." So they kept walking, down more corridors and looking in on other patients.
It wasn't until they came back to her office that he finally broke that silence. "Thank you Dr. Quinzel, it's nice to know that some Doctors are trying to actually help their patients rather than becoming more like them."
The blonde's brows knitted together, confused for a moment, or rather deep in thought, but she nodded. How wrong he was in her case. He stuck out his hand, shook with hers and then left with a last glance back over his shoulder. Harleen quickly looked away from where she was watching him and entered her office, her cheeks flushing red from being caught staring. Bruce chuckled and rounded the corner, quickly leaving the establishment.
It wasn't until Harleen was back in her office, leaning against the door that she let out a sigh. He definitely wasn't like how they described him in the papers. Charming, handsome and elusive Mr. Wayne. Hmm. She had spilled more than she usually had to most of her colleges.
It suddenly hit her.
Why would she do that?