"Hello?" Gordon's gruff voice answered. In a last second change of heart I had called him instead.
"H-hey, it's Harleen."
"Oh, I didn't expect your call kiddo, what can I do for you?"
"Yeah um, I thought I had lost your number but...here it is," I said, staring at the card I had found on the table by the phone. How it got there was beyond me, the Joker had taken the card from me when I was thrown into his van.
"I think Doctor Sinner is trying to...dispose of one of my patients," I said calmly.
"Which patient?"
"Pamela Isley. I have proof."
He sighed heavily.
"I'll be in tomorrow, can we discuss it then?"
"I'm at the hospital until 10, but we could have lunch?"
"Discussing a suspected attempted murder over lunch? Sounds good, see you then."
"See you."
I hung up and entered the kitchen to make the hot chocolate. I stirred and stirred, all the while piecing everything together in my mind.
The Joker wanted to free all the inmates of Arkham, for what? Was he started an army of psychos? Most of the patients detested him, was in it hope to gain their alliance?
Both the Joker and Ivy had lied to me but I didn't feel angry, they must have bad their reasons. Before I could deal with Sinner, I had to see Arkham. Convenient that I had an appointment at the hospital the very next day...
I awoke alone, feeling refreshed and normal for the first time in months. I took a shower and dressed quickly, pulling on a white blouse and high-waisted chinos.
The rain had cleared up leaving a crisp, autumn morning. Leaves crunched under my feet as I walked to my car. Behind it was a familiar looking black sports car and as I approached, Guy emerged.
"Beautiful morning," he commented. I felt heat tush to my cheeks and tried to cover it.
"Sure is, what brings you here?" I questioned. He reached into his car and pulled out two cups of coffee.
"Black with one sugar," he winked.
"How did you-"
"I'm observant."
"Or a stalker," I joked.
"Possibly both."
We both laughed and chatted casually as if we were long acquainted friends. It was a strange feeling.
"Ya didn't call," he said after a while.
"I've been very busy and...oh shit!" I exclaimed, checking my watch, "I'm gonna be late!"
"Work?"
"Hospital first. I've got to dash, but how about a drink later?" I suggested.
"Same place at 7?"
"You bet."
I jumped into my car and drove rather hastily to Gotham General. As I entered the building, a man stopped me.
"Doctor Quinzel?"
"Y-yes?"
"I interviewed you the other day, for the Gotham Times?"
He looked familiar, light brown hair and soft features.
"The newspaper? I was in the newspaper?"
"And TV."
"You asked me if I was going to continue to treat him, I remember now."
His eyes lit up.
"James, James Dawson," he said, offering a hand.
"Pleasure. I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me, in a bit of a hurry," I apologised.
"Nice to meet you officially," he smiled, heading down the steps. I continued to Aimee's office. Once I finally found the right door, I knocked eagerly.
"Come on in!"
"Sorry I'm late," I said. She gestured to the small sofa for me to sit. I smiled gratefully and collapsed onto it.
"Hectic morning already?"
"I just got...distracted," I laughed. Aimee pulled out a pen and notepad and wheeled her chair over. She tucked a loose piece of brown hair behind her ear.
That's when I seemed to notice. Aimee was Harleen. She had the same figure as me; the same complexion and mousey brown hair tied back in a bun; the same round spectacles; the same white lab coat; the same laid back and shy personality. Aimee was Harleen. And I was Harley.
She leaned forward eagerly.
"So, how did you sleep?"
I felt like my mind totally caved in. I had been hanging onto the last strand of Harleen, secretly sad to let go. But as this woman, this echo of my past, stared at me with that look of false sympathy which all psychologists possess, I found the strength to let go.
"You know, I slept pretty well," I said proudly.
And as I walked out of that room at 10 o'clock I felt fully fledged, ready to join the Joker in his life of chaos.
"Just keep taking your meds, Harleen, and you'll have a check up in a few weeks or so," Aimee instructed.
"Thanks for your time."
I immediately headed for Arkham's room but as I arrived, I found it to be empty. I looked around for a doctor or nurse.
"Excuse me?" I asked a male nurse, "where is Doctor Arkham?"
"Oh, didn't anyone tell you? He was discharged this morning."
"Oh, right. Thanks."
I rushed downstairs and out to my car. If Arkham was out, then Ivy was in danger.
My car would not move fast enough through the bustling streets of Gotham. Rush hour swallowed me up into a world of fumes and car horns.
After a half hour I pulled into the carpark of the asylum and threw myself into the building.
"Harley?"
"Charlie! Arkham is back!"
"Yeah he..."
We were interupted the sound of doors opening behind us. I turned around to see Arkham and Sinner emerge from the patient block, Sinner pushing a hospital bed covered with a white sheet.
"Oh, Doctor Quinzel...I didn't expect..."
"Where is she?" I interupted him. He approached me with a curious look on his face. I quickly comprosed myself and remembered who I had to be.
"Doctor Arkham, I'm glad to see you're well again," I said, peering past him.
"Harleen, I'm sorry to have to inform you...I mean, no one knows what...it was just so..."
Sinner poorly concealed a grin as she pulled back the white sheet to reveal Ivy lying still on the cold metal surface.
"...your former patient, Pamela Isley, is dead."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Really sorry guys, I've totally neglected this story but times are busy!
New character:
James Dawson: a reporter for the Gotham Times
That's all folks!
