**COMPLETE** Diamonds and Scars (Harley Quinn & The Joker - Fanfiction)

Confined Spaces

Finally, I arrived at the entrance. The officer opened the door and forced me to walk inside. I didn't want to, and I could easily run away and kill this idiot but I decided to comply...for now anyway. Might be more interesting this way.

There was a reception area which was half covered in bars.

I guess it was so I couldn't slap the bitch behind the counter.

I stood there whilst they examined my pockets.

"One baseball bat, recovered from the back of the police car 'Good Night' written on it, oak. Clearly evidence of blood on the wood finish. One handheld gun,no bullets. Oh no surprise, some bullets. A playing card with 'The Joker' written all over it. And finally, a pocket knife...retractable blade with blood stained on the metal." the woman behind the counter said, whilst examining every item closely. 

The guard confiscated everything. Everything. An orange prisoner uniform was shoved in my general direction. Yeah, as if I was going to change into this. I refused to take it.

"Alright, you want to do this the hard way, Quinn?" he asked me angrily.

"You bet your sorry ass I do!" I grated my teeth towards the guard threatening me.

He wasn't a happy bunny.

One more guard came and assisted the officer to carry me against my will. I was struggling and kicking and screaming but it didn't do anything.

"You better not ruin my stuff! I have rights!" I tried shouting at the top of my lungs.

The two guards opened a door and pushed me inside, shutting it behind me.

"Please, take a seat" a female voice said. She looked professional. I reluctantly sat in the chair, crossing my legs. "Welcome to your first session, Miss Quinn"

"And who are you? My lawyer? My cell mate?" I asked sarcastically.

"Your therapist"

"Oh you have got to be kiddin' me..." I rolled my eyes.

Therapist? Now that's just too funny. That's good, that's really good. This has so much irony I should just go ahead and walk over to Arkham Asylum.

"Would you mind if I record this for medical reference?"

"Sure, go ahead. I don't care anymore."

I literally didn't care anymore.

The 'therapist' pressed a button on a small device to begin recording.

"Session one:

Patient 03746 is Harleen Quinzel, takes on alias of Harley Quinn. Harley used to be a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum.

Known associates: The Joker, Catwoman, Poison Ivy.

Gender: Female

Eye colour: Blue

Hair colour: Blonde(dyed)

Average height and weight, fit and healthy.

Body shows no evidential scarring or damage."

The little voice in my head just broke out instead of being my thoughts, it was so strong that I was actually hearing a voice inside my head. And not just thoughts, or insane thoughts. An actual voice. This was real, I was in prison. And possibly even going to be transferred to Arkham.

Harley, you know what you want to do?

You want to stay in prison, forget about The Joker. He doesn't love you anymore. Or, alternatively make everyone believe you're really insane, then you'll get transferred to Arkham.