ON HOLD - A Sick and Twisted Affair (JokerxHarleyQuinn)

Chapter 2: First Session

Jack's POV:

I sat bolt upright at the sound of my first alarm. Today was Tuesday, that meant my first session with Harley Quinn was in six and a half hours. I had to get ready. Jumping out of bed I headed straight to the bathroom to have my shower. After I'd scrubbed myself clean, I went to rummage through my wardrobe.
Deciding on a dark purple formal shirt and black suit pants I took my time getting dressed. I ran a brush through my hair and looked in the mirror. Perhaps my hair was getting a little too long, I'd have to remember to book a haircut. Pulling it back into a ponytail I checked myself out. I took my hair back out and tugged out some strands in front of my ears before putting the rest back into a ponytail. That's better, ready to go. I locked my apartment door and headed downstairs.

*Time Skip*

Taking a deep breath I looked up at the gates, mentally preparing myself for the day. I begin making my way to my office when an announcement grabs my attention
"Jack Napier, please come to the main office."
A moment of worry passed over my mind. What if they'd decided someone else should take Harley's case? Guess I'd better go find out. As I entered the main office I saw none other than Jeremiah Arkham himself.
"Ah, Jack. Just the man I was wanting to see."
He extends his hand towards me in a friendly gesture.
"Nice to see you, Sir."
I take his hand and shake it firmly.
"To what do I owe this meeting?"
"Please, call me Jeremy. I was hoping to discuss your new patient, Miss Harleen Quinzel."
My heart sank immediately at his words.
"Yes?"
"I felt the need to warn you, these sessions, they won't be easy by any definition of the word. This woman is a highly lethal criminal and will be restrained at all times. She will not tell you the truth easily, and is a very convincing liar. I doubt you could tell the difference between her lies and truth, so be on your guard."
"Thank you Mr. Arkham, Sir. I appreciate your concern and will, heed your warnings."
"Thank you for taking on this case, Jack. There was nobody left who wanted to take her."
I felt a twinge of concern, surely she wasn't that difficult?
"No problem, Sir. It's my pleasure."
"Oh, I'm sure it won't be your pleasure for long."
I left the room with a bad taste in my mouth. Why doesn't anyone else want to treat her?

*Time Skip*

Ten more minutes. After some last minute rushing around I checked which room she was in and left my office to find her. Down two flights of stairs to the basement level. Through a few sets of big metal doors, dead-bolted shut with armed guards. The lowest level of Arkham Asylum is dedicated to the worst of the worst. Top security was exercised with these criminals. They were dangerous. Stopping in front of room 336 I stood looking at the door for a moment. I flicked my tongue up over my top lip and took a step towards the door, behind it was the Clown Queen, Harley Quinn. An opportunity to make a future for myself through helping someone. I turn to the guard outside the door and try to keep my voice steady.
"Excuse me, my name's Dr. Napier, I will be treating Miss. Quinzel. Could you please open the door?"
The guard grunts and reaches for his keys.
"Be careful son, she's a nasty one."
I ignore him and walk into the room with my head held high. I am immediately confronted by a bare metal room with a metal table and chairs in the middle. I turned my eyes to the left and there she was - white face, blonde pigtails and black-and-red jumpsuit under a dirty white straight jacket. She was chained and padlocked to the wall. The guard walked in with a gun pointed at her.
"I'll just move 'er for ya kiddo."
He walked over and unlocked her chains. As he dragged the clown to one of the metal chairs she began cackling hysterically.
"Shut yer mouth wench!" the guard yelled as he struck her over the head with the butt of his gun, but she only laughed louder. He rolled his eyes and locked her chains to the chair, which I noticed was bolted to the concrete floor, along with the table. They weren't taking any chances by the look of this setup.
"Good luck with that one." The guard said jerking his thumb at the grinning woman.
"Thanks." I reply coldly. There really wasn't any need for such violence, I thought to myself as I crossed the floor to take my position in the chair opposite Harley.
"Hiya mistah, my name's Harley Quinn."
"I know who you are. My name is Dr. Napier, I've been assigned as your psychologist."
"Awh don't get all formal on me, here I was thinkin' ya looked like fun!"
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and licked my top lip.
"I'm not here to have fun, Ms. Quinzel, I'm here to treat you."
"Ooooh, treat me? How kind of ya! Say, why don't ya tell me ya real name? It'd make me feel more comfortable."
"Jack. Now let's get on with your session. Can you tell me why you're here?"
"Woah woah woah, slow down there fella. First up Jack's a real cute name, mistah. Secondly, none of this 'Miss Quinzel' crap, the name's Harley, Harley QUINN. Not Harleen, not Quinzel. Harley. Quinn." She emphasized the last two words like it was the thousandth time she had given this speech.
"Ok then, Ms. Quinn..."
"Awh just call me Harley, everybody does. I'm sure we're gonna get real cosy with each other soon enough anyhow." She threw her head back and gave a high-pitched giggle. Clearing my throat I carry on with the standard questions.
"So, Harley. Can you tell me why you're here?"
"Cuz dumb ol' Batsy dragged me here. He just don't understand the beauty of my artwork!" she pouts like a child and continues, "wouldn't ya say it's important ta make people smile, Mistah Jack?"
"Well yes, but could you possibly elaborate on now exactly you were 'making people smile' when Batman brought you to us?"
"I was paintin' a picture for 'em." She smiled sweetly at me. Did she really think I'd believe that was all she'd been doing?
"And what was this 'picture' you were painting, Ms. Quinn?"
"Harley. I was paintin' a revenge picture, see? It was gaaaaawjus!" Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously. I raised my eyebrows at her words.
"A revenge picture?"
"Yup! See, someone hurt my friend reaaaal bad, and when someone hurts wunna my friends, I gotta make 'em fix it. This fella that hurt my friend, he gotta help me make 'er smile again, so I used him ta paint my picture. Wanna see it?" She grinned at me and leaned forward.
"Should be a photo in tha back of that there file, mistah." She nods her head towards the envelope with her case file in it. I opened the envelope and flicked through the file, stopping at all the pictures. Harleen, Harley, a beaten up woman with long red hair crumpled in a ball on the ground, Harley again, and finally a pile of meat and bones, barely reminiscent of a human. Above it on the wall, there was indeed a painting, but not the kind I had expected. On the creamy white wall was a scene of Harley and the red haired woman in the previous photo. They were holding hands and laughing as a large sun smiled down in them. The image itself was fairly normal, but the medium used to paint it was not. The entire things was messily smeared on in a dark red liquid which I could only assume was this meat pile's blood. I take a moment for the image to sink in fully then turned back to the grinning clown across from me.
"Ya like it Jacky?"
"Why would you do this?"
"I told ya, he hurt my real good friend, see? For a psychologist ya sure don't listen that good, do ya?"
"What did he do, Harley?" She looks up at me and gives her usual high pitched giggle, but with a bitter undertone.
"Well, mistah, have ya heard of a crime called rape. It's when a nasty, pathetic little runt decides..."
"I know what rape is, believe me."
"Well, then you would know how nasty ya'd have to be ta do that ta anyone, especially a sweet li'l innocent girl like my Red." She scrunched up her face like she'd just tried to skull half a litre of pure lemon juice.
I looked away, searching almost desperately for something interesting to take my mind off the story Harley had just told me.
"Mistah?"
Turning back I lick my top lip nervously and bring myself back to the conversation.
"Yes, Harley. Nasty."
"So ya agree then, J? He deserved it?" She beamed at me and I felt my face heat up.
"That's not what I said, Quinn." I growled. But it is what I meant I thought to myself. Her face fell at my words.
"I should've known ya couldn't see it that way." She mumbled.
"I think that's it for our session today." I said, hurriedly getting to my feet.
"Oh, well seeya mistah. Say, when ya gonna come back?" Her blue eyes gaze up at me excitedly. She seems to have totally forgotten the previous part of our conversation.
"I am scheduled to visit you Tuesdays and Thursdays at 1pm."
"Oooh goodie!" She squealed, "can't wait ta see ya again, Jacky!" She threw back her head again and began laughing hysterically. I gave a tight lipped smile and knocked on the door for the guard to let me out. He opened the door and grinned at me, jerking his thumb down the hall to the door that I'd come in through. I followed his directions and used my master key to unlock the huge metal door, walking through and locking it behind me. I could still hear Harley's screams of laughter echoing down the hallway and just barely piercing the heavy door.  I stopped for a moment to collect myself and take a deep breathe before making my way up the narrow concrete stairwell to the ground floor. Shoving away my thoughts on what she'd done to that man I tried to concentrate on climbing the stairs out of here. It made me uncomfortable to think about the fact I agreed with her perspective. That was an intense session, I'll be glad to go home and relax after that.

Harley's POV:

I watch him leave as though he were in a hurry. What an interesting fella, I'd be happy to study him some more. 'That's the sort of guy you could have ended up with.' she said in that bossy voice of hers. That li'l smart arse thinks she knows everythin'.
"Shut up, ya stoopid loser!" I scream at her. She don't know when ta shut her mouth.
"Did you say something to me?" Ah, shoot. Now we got trouble, Harleen. 'YOU have trouble, this has nothing to do with me.' I felt something cold and hard slam into the back of my skull.
"Owch! Watch it fella, wha'd ya do that for?" I turn ta glare at the guard standing behind me.
"I asked you a question."
"Geez mistah, I weren't tellin' ya ta shut up, ok?" He glared at me and spat in my face. I giggled uncontrollably, and hit me again with the back of his gun, but that won't neva shut me up. I kept gigglin' quietly as he unlocked my chains and dragged me by my piggy tails to the bunk. I was shoved down hard onto the solid metal bench.
"Calm down, this is me co-operatin', okay!" I said,  earnin' me one helluva knuckle sandwich.
"Gee, you sure are strong, fella." I said, winking at him, "those muscles o' yours are HUGE! Bet they ain't the only big thing ya got either." At this I started laughin' again, only servin' ta piss him off more. He slapped me across the face and left, slammin' the door behind 'im. I heard his key in the lock and relaxed a l'il bit. As the tension wore off I started laughin', quiet at first, then a bit louder. No matter what happens, ain't nothin' gonna stop me laughin',  that's all I got, see? If I ain't laughin', it ain't worth livin' in my opinion. I laid my head back against the cool metal and tried ta get some rest. I must've be exhausted, cuz not 10 minutes later I was sleepin' like a log.

(A/N: Most of the speling and grammar mistakes in Harley's parts ARE there purposefully to emphasize her accent. It's meant to be a high-pitched, playful Brooklyn accent. Also if it wasn't already obvious, the voice in Harley's head is Harleen, her 'former self' in a way; the parts of her that weren't quite destroyed by her transformation into Harley.)