My Boyfriend Is a Psychopathic Clown: Harley Quinn's Story

I Accidentally Get Myself Locked Up. (Oops. Epic fail!)

For KazzaRoo, because I didn't upload a new chapter of the Batman's Daughter today like I said I would as I'm still waiting for people to read\ react to the new one. Consider this a consalation prize.

I woke up to find myself straightjacketed to a board. After badgering the acne-scarred blond orderly (who was cute, but couldn't hold a candle to my Puddin' personality-wise, I bet) who brought me breakfast (Arkham's infamous gag-enducing oatmeal that's supposedly driven patients to suicide) I learned that Joan had decided to keep me here overnight, but that I'd be going home in a couple hours (they couldn't hold me there against my will; I wasn't a danger to myself or others) after my session with Dr. Reuben. I was relieved to be knowing I'd be leaving - Arkham from a patient's perspective gave me the creeps. When I was an intern, I'd been impressed at how the Joker was on a first-name basis with the doctors, but when it was my first visit, even though I knew all their names, it was like that time had never happened. Seeing the procedures I'd seen done to other patients done to me made me scared and sad. When did I become nutzo, institution-worthy? Was falling in love with the Clown Prince of Crime worth this? Those same thoughts were coming back now. Of course it was! I just had to work harder to get him out.

We passed his cell on the way out, & I almost threw myself at the glass between us. Now I really had to hatch a plan...and soon, before I died of heartbreak!

Joan looked at me sadly as we said our goodbyes (though she knew this battle wasn't over and I'd be coming back, waiting for my angel cake to get out of solitary.)

"It's really a shame, what you've become. I always thought you had such promise, with those high grades...if there was any chance of you reforming, I'd petition to have Dr. Reuben offer you your old job back." I was flattered to hear this. Joan had always been my closest friend out of all my colleagues. She'd even warned me about  Puddin' when I started falling for him.

"You've got to watch out for him, Harleen. Arkham's never had a manipulative psychotic like the Joker - even the most experienced doctors aren't sure how to handle him. But he seems to have taken a shine to you, and that's good. Maybe someone will finally be able to get inside his head and stop the madness. Full rehabilitation is unlikely, but with constant monitoring - probably including a tracking ankle bracelet like prisoners get - and weekly therapy sessions after he's released...there might be hope for that man yet. Dr. Reuben doesn't think so, but I don't give up on any patient. Just...be careful, Harleen. You aren't the only young, inexperienced doctor who the Joker's tried to get to pity him. He plays people for a living. Remember that." Her voice soft, she was blushing, and I felt a new kinship: there was someone else on staff that had seen the angel inside of the supposed monster. She could understand.

"Joan, I think I'm-" But then the warning sirens rang; a prisoner had broken out and she turned from me.

"Not now, Harleen. "

And then I realized she'd just given me my plan. It would take some acting, and I hated tricking someone who used to trust me (and, it seemed, still did)..,but it was Mister J's only chance. I looked at her sadly.

"Actually...I had time to think this morning...and this Joker craziness is getting tiring. I'm putting my all into the relationship, and getting nothing out of it." Sometimes I did feel that way, but I reminded myself it was all part of the plan.

"Let's talk in my office." She'd fallen for it! I'd been worried that  Joan, exposed to pathological liars daily, people who'd made a living out of telling tales, who could spot the tiniest white lie from miles away, wouldn't take the bait...but she must have really wanted me to change, so much that she was willing to believe anything. Playing an old friend hurt, but she'd understand once I explained later....

As I sipped my coffee, I smiled. You'll be out in 2 weeks, max, Puddin'. Then we can get back to our usual fun....

This was going to be a piece of cake.