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

Chapter 4: It Feels Like Years Ago....

To start out the day, I was drinking a cup of mediocre coffee brought to me by Charlie-the-intern, who, despite the fact that I told him I was already in a relationship - "yeah, with a psycho" and had no interest in weedy college boys besides - "What? You don't see this? I'm ripped!" had become obsessed with me. This turned to my advantage when I told Joan I needed an assistant, to show me around the place and teach me about all the new security features installed since Puddin's (I was careful not to call him by pet names around the other staff, lest they think I wasn't totally devoted to my job and it was just a plot to free him)  last breakout (I'm so proud of you, sugah lamb -oops, I picked that one up from Gorgeous Gilly. I heard she was in Arkham, too.... The amount of nutzoids we take in here is astounding.

A knock on the door startled me from my thoughts. It was time for my first patient session of the day. Two burly orderlies led the pretty redhead in.  One of Arkham's signature red jumpsuits covered her body, but I could still see the green of her face.....

"Thanks, boys..." she cooed, and went to kiss both of their cheeks (even though patients and staff weren't allowed to make any sort of contact that wasn't restraining), but they'd obviously read the staff handbook (I'd had Charlie read it to me), because they pulled away.

"We'll be back in an hour, unless you ask for a lengthened session."

"Harley!!!!!" squealed Poison Ivy, jumping up to hug me. It hurt to refuse my old friend. We've collaberated on a couple of crime sprees when Mr. J was being moody, and I love having girl time, but Mr. J would be totally lost without me. He'd be eating frozen dinners every day, and I don't even want to think about laundry...he wouldn't even have to kill anyone; they'd die from the stink.

"Actually, I go by Dr. Quinzel now."

"Oh. Why the switch to the straight-and-narrow? Just because your man's locked up doesn't mean you can't have some fun. If I were you, I'd think it's liberating not to be stuck with that piggy creep."

"So you're the shrink now," I teased.

"I saw him today."

"You did???" No fair, was what I was thinking, but she didn't say anything.

"Don't sound so desperate - he's got to come through you sometime."

"Can't - it was part of my being rehired. I don't get to have a session with him until Dr. Reuben and Dr. Leland think I'm reformed."

"I think that's a good idea - maybe you'll finally embrace your inner female power." I rolled my eyes. Red just didn't understand because she didn't have a man.

"What'd you do to get in here, anyway?"

She smiled.

"I sabotaged the Miss Gotham pagent by making all the flowers grow out-of-control. They wouldn't let me enter...though I recall that you were second-runner-up when you were a senior in high school. Wonder if Joker knows you used to be a beauty queen...." I didn't tell her the story of how he crashed the pagent two years ago and gassed the last year's winner and the new  Miss Gotham, only because it was semi-my fault - I'd run across the newspaper clipping in a box of my old stuff and complained about the bratty girl that won. I mean, I'm not sure that's what set him off; Pumpkin does whatever he wants, but....

After two more sessions that day (Killer Croc and Black Mask - another inmate who used to work here, actually Jeramiah Arkham, relative of Amadeus Arkham, the asylum's founder), I was totally emotionally spent. I missed my sweetie patootie so much it made me cry all over a sheet of notes I took during my last session of the day.

"It's tougher than you remembered." Dr. Reuben stood behind my chair.

"Yes," I lied, but at the same time telling the truth.

"You'll get back into the swing of things, Harleen. I promise." He patted my shoulder, and I nodded.

"I hope you're right." I didn't want to be miserable while I plotted ways to get Mr. J free. I'd have to throw myself into the job. It wouldn't be too hard.... I'm comin', Puddin!