Strange Love (The Joker and Harley Quinn Fanfiction)

introduction

First day on the job, and Harleen Quinzel was already questioning her own choice to even think about ever setting a foot in Arkham Asylum. Just peering at its dark, rusty gates from the car window made her skin crawl.

She forgets why she was ever interested in the concept of insanity. No, Harleen was engrossed in the idea of the human mind succumbing to chaos within. Even a man out of jail cannot proclaim himself to be free. There are rules, written and unwritten. No one is truly free, and insanity is a choice. You can continue to be afraid of judgment and being put behind bars, or you can choose to let go of your fears.

"It's something we're all born with," she tells everyone. "It's the monster inside us, chained down by fear."

It was raining, and Harleen was starting to believe that there was nothing that could make the Asylum look any more frightening. The car pulled to a stop right in front of the outer gates as a guard approached her side with an umbrella at hand. She stepped out, struggling with her backpack, and her inner soles were already wet.

The Asylum was indeed heavily guarded. No area was ever left unmonitored for a second, or someone would get hurt. Really, really, bad.

Harleen surrendered her identification card which had to be scanned, and she lost count of how many times she had been checked for any dangerous possessions. With the guard still holding an umbrella over her head, she approached the main gate hurriedly, pissed off that her nude heels were stained with the gray mud.

Once the guards pushed open the doors, Harleen couldn't bring herself to move. She stared through the wide hall which resembled that of a hospital. Bright white lights with old, dingy tiles. But there were no doctors or nurses strolling around; just the guards standing next to each door. It had quite an eerie atmosphere.

"Ah, you must be Dr. Harleen Quinzel!" The booming voice of a middle-aged man with barely any hair snapped her back to reality. "Quincy Sharp, warden of the Asylum."

Sharp held out his hand which Harleen shook with much tension and nervousness. He introduced the brunette lady by his side.

"Yes, your secretary. We spoke on the phone a couple times," Harleen said, sending her the warmest smile she was capable of giving at the moment. The brunette responded with a curve of her lip before answering another phone call.

"I'm very glad to have you working here, Dr. Quinzel. We really do lack brave people like you in this institution," Sharp began. It still is a mystery to me. As you can see, the Asylum is heavily guarded; it's not that hard to feel safe."

And with that, Harleen was sure she would doubt any other sentence that would come out of his mouth. Feeling safe at Arkham Asylum was impossible, even if there were a hundred times more guards than patients.

"And I'm glad to be at your service."

♦ ♢ ♦

The halls were deathly silent, the clicking of Harleen's heels being the only thing audible.

Following behind Sharp, she was starting to see the Asylum as a whole world itself. She peeked into every room they passed, beginning to see fragments of the chaos that was within these walls. Conversations with themselves, maniacal laughing, or just plain anger accompanied by smashing fists on the walls were only three on the list of things you could see and hear inside that would scar you for life.

The walk to her office turned out to be quite long. Harleen began to worry for herself if ever she were to be late. They headed down the stairs and went through a narrower hall.

"Here it is, Dr. Quinzel," Sharp gestured toward a small room. It was at the end of the corridor, next to several other doctors' offices. "Not too shabby, isn't it?"

Harleen stepped into the room. Many shelves covered the sides, perfect for all her papers and books. A glass top desk stood at the center with a rolling chair behind it, and the walls were a calming shade of gray. Not too shabby indeed.

She dropped her backpack next to the desk and made herself comfortable in the chair, waiting for Sharp's next instructions.

"You should feel at home in here," he said.

I should?

"Cozy enough to finish all your work."

Harleen had already finished setting up her desk before leaning back. Sharp crossed his arms. "Don't get too comfy yet, doctor. You start in about twenty minutes."

"Speaking of such," she began, now leaning onto her desk. "I need the profiles of the patients I'll be dealing with. I prefer to do my research beforehand."

Sharp held out a hand toward his secretary, and she immediately handed him a thick folder. "It's a patient. Trust me, you won't wanna deal with any more than this one." He disgracefully tossed it in front of Harleen, almost hitting her, and she shot him a look, beginning to dislike the man even more. You're literally two steps away from the desk, fat ass.

As he began to leave with his secretary, Harleen flipped open the folder.

"Might wanna mentally prepare yourself," Sharp advised, followed by a loud laugh.

She felt excited, at the same time scared for her own life. In about twenty minutes, she would be in the presence of the epitome of insane. The monster of all monsters.

The Joker himself.