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"Quinn is a violent and unpredictable felon whose only motivation, beyond general
mayhem, is achieving the Joker's approval. Because of his cruel and mercurial
nature, this in some ways makes her just another of his victims - albeit a very
dangerous one." - Biography of Harley Quinn from Batman: Arkham Asylum

Prologue

She had never really seen being a doctor as her 'calling'. Many doctors called it that, this drive many of them had to help people by cutting them up into little pieces and patching them back together again. But she didn't. She liked to think of it as her passion. There were plenty of people in the world who could be as good at her job as she was. But no one, she often thought, loved it like she did.

It was the mind, not the body, in her case that was being cut apart. Dr. Harleen Quinzel spent her days with Gotham's most violent and dangerous criminals. She uncovered their secrets, broke down their barriers, and finally had them as well trained as puppy dogs. It wasn't inhumane, it wasn't cruel, and it wasn't any kind of justice or punishment. It was simply Dr. Quinzel's job to break the mind of every insane patient at Arkham Asylum, and the put it back together again, whole and healthy. Not everyone could stomach her job, and the thousands of Arkham employees who had quit were proof of that. Dealing with serial killers, child molesters, and rapists day in and out was too much for most people.

But Dr. Harleen Quinzel didn't consider herself one of 'most people'. She put herself through school on her own wits and a gymnastics scholarship and went on to graduate top of her class in medical school. She didn't date often – but that was mainly due to her impossibly high standards and expectations, so the few who dated her were always brilliant and successful. She was at an almost genius level IQ, and her memory was near photographic. All in all, she was fairly happy with her life, if perhaps a little lonely from time to time. Her job was her life and she understood that didn't leave a lot of room for other people to join her.

Chapter 1

She didn't usually have time for breakfast in the morning. So as usual, she grabbed a cup of coffee on her way out the door.

Arkham Asylum greeted her impassively in its glory, as usual. The gothic styled building was tall and stoic with its marble arches and dark grey brick, placed in the oldest and poorest part of Gotham. Dr. Harleen Quinzel walked in with a nod to the security officer at the door and her ID in her hand to pass the five checkpoints it took to get to her office.

She sipped her coffee, looking idly at the files on her desk. She pressed the blinking red button on her phone as she traded her dark grey coat for her stark white doctor's one.

Dr. Quinzel picked up her various folders, collecting those which involved the patients whom she had rounds with that day, and nearly immediately made her way down the cold and dark hallways.

The usually deserted hallways weren't empty though. Doctors clustered together in tight knit groups, whispering rapidly.

"What's going on?" Harleen asked to a familiar face as she passed.

The doctor took a minute to give her an appreciative glance over, from her blonde ponytail to her tight wool skirt. "A new patient was brought in last night. Rumor is that it's the Joker."

"The Joker?" Harleen asked in surprise, but the man had already turned around to his companions.

But it wasn't just the doctors who were fascinated with the Joker's alleged return to Arkham.

"Is he here? Really here? Is it safe? Can I leave? Where is she? Is she safe? Alice doesn't like the Joker. Once he ruined our party, and we woke up on the other side of the city in a dumpster. Are you sure he's here? He can't be. . . Why would they bring him in HERE? Can I make sure Alice is okay?"

Dr. Quinzel's efforts to calm Jervis Tetch were as futile as it was with her other patients. No one could get the fear or enthusiasm out of their head that the Joker was possibly in the same building.

At lunch, Harleen Quinzel entered the cafeteria to a near empty room.

"Where is everyone?" she asked in disbelief to a fellow doctor leaving with her white coat flapping around her.

"Mary is questioning the Joker for the first time since he's been brought in right this minute. How she got him I'm not sure . . . but she must be sleeping with Bradley because I know half the staff would kill to be on his case." The doctor prattled on. "Anyway, it's in Room 034. Come and see! I'm dying to see what she says about him!"

Harleen followed her out of cafeteria down the several flights of stairs until they reached the basement. She followed warily behind as the doctor excitedly reached the large group of people waiting outside the door to one of the most secure and isolated rooms in the entire facility.

So I guess the rumors are true, Harleen thought idly, taking in the excited chatter. She waited silently a few feet down the wall from the rest of the doctors.

After ten minutes, Harleen was sneaking glances at her watch. But with no warning, the door opened, and the group inhaled.

Dr. Mary Wentworth opened the door, her eyes wide and greying hair falling out of its usually immaculate bun. Everyone immediately began throwing out questions to her, animated and lively. But Harleen took in the level of moisture in her eyes, the size of her pupils, and the nervous wringing of her hands, and knew what was going to happen right before it did.

Mary burst into tears, sobbing hysterically in loud hiccups, and a hush fell over the doctors. A few leaned forward, concern on their faces, but Mary shook her head and ran down the hallway, passing Harleen on the way.

No one saw Dr. Wentworth for the rest of the week. Harleen heard the latest rumors and dismissed all of them. The most believable was that she had left with her family to head for Bermuda on a 'permanent' vacation. The tension in the hospital increased day by day as carefully chosen doctors attempted to work with the 'Crown Prince of Crime'.

But for whatever reason, all of them failed. Dr. James Pierce, a closer acquaintance of Harleen, lasted the longest. He made it a week before he made his way to Dr. Bradley's office, pale and slightly clammy, to request a switch. Harleen knew personally that some of the doctors who had attempted to treat the clown had actually been committed to the institution. Her curiosity grew, but she accepted the fact that her services would never be requested. Though the man known as the Joker was under her specialty (severe personality disorders definitely applied to a sadistic murderer who referred to himself as a 'Joker') interns simply didn't get the big, dangerous, or glamorous cases. She was fresh faced and just out of college – and no matter how serious and focused she was that still stood up first and foremost.

But there was something about him that struck with her. She dealt with the maniacs, the crazies, the insane. But there was something about a man who went around murdering people with a grin on her face that was just so damn, well, ironic. He intrigued her in a way no patient before him had. Almost immediately, she wanted to meet him. She wanted an hour to pick his brain and uncover what secrets an insane clown with a bat complex had. So Harleen decided if the Joker's case wasn't going to be handed to her, it was up to her to get it.

The day she decided, she went straight from work to her local department store. Her boss Issac Bradley was a known womanizer who had a thing for busty blondes. If the various very young and very beautiful under qualified secretaries weren't proof enough, the countless sexual harassment complaints were.

The salesgirl helped her, because 'flirt', Harleen Quinzel was not. The salesgirl helped Harleen pick various red and pink silky tops, cut much lower than anything in her closet at home. The skirts she chose were tighter, darker, and shorter. Harleen thanked her and went home with her new purchases, feeling rather like a cheap whore.

Carefully applying her red lipstick in the mirror the next day, Harleen gave herself the once over. High heels, check. New black pencil skirt, check. Slutty red top, she thought wryly taking in her extra inch of cleavage, check. She fluffed her blonde hair over her shoulder. Check. She gave herself one last attempt at a flirty smile, decided it looked like she was trying to sneeze, and shrugged on her white doctor's coat.

She got more than a few appreciative glances that day. Several men in the hallways, some she knew and most she didn't, gave her the lingering once over. Taking that in stride, Harleen knocked on her boss's door with only a touch of nervousness.

"Come in." Without looking up, he asked, "Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time, Dr. Bradley," Harleen said as sexy as she could manage. He looked up, a little surprised, and took her in for the first time. His eyebrows rose even higher.

"Dr. Quinzel, please, take a seat." He indicated to the leather chair in front of his desk. "What can I do for you?"

She smiled at him slowly, taking her time on her words. He smiled back, slightly bewildered by her first noncompulsory visit to his office.

"Recently, I became interested in one of the patients. I was curious if I could look at the case file. Even perhaps, if you were willing, treat him."

"Your workload is already fairly full," he replied, not unkindly. "What patient were you looking at, exactly?"

Harleen swallowed compulsively. "Patient 034."

"Patient 034," he repeated in disbelief. "You're kidding me."

"Well, no. I'd like the uh, challenge. If you'd be willing to give it to me of course, sir."

"Dr. Quinzel," he shook his head. "I honestly don't understand why you'd even want to treat the Joker. Have you seen what he's done to the last couple of doctors who have attempted to help him?"

"I know," Harleen stammered, not even sure why she did want to be around a psychotic clown. "It's just. I – well, I find him fascinating, sir."

Bradley got up from behind his desk and smoothed his hair back. "Look, Harleen, it is Harleen, isn't it? You're a bright girl. So trust me when I say, you don't want him as your patient." He placed his slightly sweaty hands on her shoulders and Harleen had to force herself not to shudder. "Now, if you're bored, I might be able to pull some strings so your
services could be reassigned. I don't see why I can't do that for you, Harleen."

Harleen stood up, shaking off his hands with one brusque motion. "That won't be necessary, sir. Thank you for your time," she smiled aloofly, and before he could say anything, walked hurriedly out of his office.