The Joker and Harley story

Chapter 1 - Encounter

**Harley's POV**

"I'm telling you, it's harmless. He's in a straight jacket, he's toned it down a bit, and the doors are heavily guarded by some of gothams finest. There is no fear factor here." I explained calmly to Darlene as I jotted down a few pre-log notes in my notebook.

"Well, why can't you hit on them instead then?" She said coyly.

I immediately stopped what I was doing and looked at her in disgust. Well, hoping I looked disgusted and not at all intrigued by her choice of words.

She narrowed her eyes, turning her head to face the large stone door separating the joker and ourselves. "What? Did I hit the nail on the head?"

I shook my head as I finished jotting down a few more notes and hurriedly closed my notebook. "I've been on the head doctors best side for the past three months, working graveyard shifts AND bringing lunch repeatedly. I plan on getting the material for my book!" I finished my sentence as I walked nonchalantly past Darlene and showed one of  the guards my badge. He nodded his head and, with the help of the second guard, opened the large stone door. I walked inside,  heels clicking with each step I took.

**NORMAL POV**

It was there she saw him. His slicked back green hair, somehow so perfectly combed back despite his hands confined to his straight jacked. His gaze fixed at the desk, devoid of any content. His posture, slumped. He seemed deep in though, his teeth exposed, top row grinding against the bottom. He heard her approaching and looked up slowly as she stood in front of her chair.

"Hello there." She said, taking her seat.

He looked up, meeting her gaze. His eyes scanned her face briefly. Innocent.

"My name is Harleen Quinzel, I have been appointed your psychiatrist for the time being. Your previous psychiatrist has moved out of state. Are there any questions or concerns you'd like to share with me?" Her voice was firm but inside she was shaking. There, sitting before her, was a mad murderer without a drop of remorse.

The jester of genocide.

She brushed off the fear, knowing she was safe. The man before her was a marvel, a psychologists dream patient!  But looking at his face, his handsome features, his look.

Harleen felt herself blush briefly but dropped her eyes to her notebook and reminded herself of her own personal mission.

"Harleen quinzel." He said, his voice hoarse. He had been silent all day. Not a word. To anyone.

Not even himself.

Harleen looked up at him attentively, waiting for more.

Minutes had passed and still, silence.

Harleen placed the notebook on the table, placing her hands above it.

"I don't mean to overwhelm you, but I am here to help. I want to know what's on your mind." She said calmly, now leaning slightly forward, studying his features.  She looked straight into his eyes, light blue and beautiful. She could have sworn she'd drown in his gaze before he could ever be able to kill her.

The joker was careful in his choice of words. This woman was a step up from his last psych doc. He saw her coming from a distance, he could tell her body was slim but curvy.

He could tell by her face, she was a beauty, even if she did have her hair up in a bun at the moment, and those dreaded grandpa glasses...her eyes were shaped beautifully though. Her blue eyes. Much like his.

Immediately, his mind raced. All the ways those golden locks would be entwined in his fingers as he--

He snapped out of it. It's weakness! He growled to himself. He immediately recovered and from his brief thought, immediately hatching up a plan so delicious, it might be his ticket out.

Suddenly, he smiled at Harleen, his metallic teeth glistening under the moonlight coming in through the tiny window up on the wall, way up that no one could really see in or out.
His eyes now half closed, his grin wide, he chuckled softly.

"Right now? I'm just happy they finally assigned me a doctor who can actually help me. Who treats me like I'm a person and not an animal." His voice trailed off and his smile disappeared. If he wanted this to work, he had to play the part well.

"They didn't treat you like a person?" Harleen asked, genuinely confused. What did they do to him? She fumed inwardly, images of his gorgeous face beaten and bruised upsetting her. And it showed.

Her face darkened as he told her his story.
She jotted down notes, key words. Phrases.
She laughed, she cried. And then he stopped.

I can't do this all at once, I must earn her trust.

He smiled at her. "Harleen, my dear, I am exhausted. Exposing All these memories, tucked deep inside my bosom, took a lot outta me. Let's call it a night." He said.

She nodded.  "Of course!" She said closing her notebook. She stood up and helped him stand up. At that moment, one of the two guards outside opened the large stone door, with the other walking inside and grasping jokers jacket, pushing him out of the door harshly.

Harleen, noticing this, immediately sprang towards the guard. "HEY!" She yelled.
Joker, looking down at the ground, was grinning ear to ear.

The guard looked back at her surprised at her outburst.

"Don't you dare push him. He can walk. I'll have you charged for abuse." She threatened.

The guard, not heeding her warning, kept pushing the joker out until they were both out of her sight.

With her fists curled up tight into a ball, she grabbed her notebook and walked right out past the other guard and towards the secretary's office to pick up her things.

"Rough night Harleen?" Luna asked, watching Harleen roughly grab her things and walking out. Harleen turned back to look at Luna, but walked out without a word.