Mad Love (Harlivy version)

Chapter 4

Dr. Leland was waiting for Harley outside the infirmary. "I have to hand it to you, Dr. Quinzel, that could have gone a lot worse."

"I don't see how." Harley told her, wishing with every fiber of her being that she could just go home. "She saw right through me."

"And you were expecting to fool her?" Leland raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Honey, Dr. Pamela Isley in there has a higher IQ than me and you put together."

"And she won't hesitate to remind us, either." Harley balked.

"You're right." Dr. Leland chuckled. "She's the worst of them, Dr. Quinzel. I told you that on your first day. She and Joker, two peas in a pod if you ask me."

Harley swallowed back the bizarre bout of anger that was climbing up her throat. She suddenly felt the overwhelming need to defend her patient. "At least Ivy's mania is predictable. She has a cause and she fights for it. The Joker breaks things just because he can..." Harley trailed off, realizing that she was just regurgitating one of Ivy's earlier statements.

"Hmm..." Leland looked at her sideways. "You know, if you ever wanted to take a crack at Joker, I could let you have a few sessions with him. If you wanted some space from Isley."

"No." Harley shook her head. "I'm fine. I just need to adjust my approach."

"Well maybe you don't." Leland put her hands on her hips. "I read your notes. Narcissistic personality, a series of negative experiences with authority figures...her knowing your play might actually enhance your current strategy."

Harley nodded slowly. "...Because even in an actual friendship she'd want to know that she was superior in some way."

"Right." Leland said. "But even though she thinks she's better, Isley is just as obsessed with Batman as the other rogues are."

"Because she sees him as something nearing an intellectual equal. She's competitive." Harley was smiling now. "She wants a match-up that she can just barely win. She wants to be challenged, but not defeated."

"That would be my guess." Leland said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. Quinzel."

Harley set her briefcase down on the dining room table with such irreverent force that water spilled out of her new green flower vase. Harley assumed the daffodils would have wilted by now, but to her surprise, they were as vibrant as the day they'd shown up in her office. Harley took a moment to appreciate the bright cluster of yellow. "My name is not Daffodil," she mumbled and grabbed a dishtowel from the counter, erasing the spill in one sweeping motion.

Her next stop was the kitchen where she pulled out the last two pieces of pizza she'd kept in the fridge. So Ivy was right about her liking it. Who cares? Everyone likes pizza. That doesn't prove anything. Harley carried her dinner back to the table where she set it down on the wood surface without a plate or napkin.

She cursed when her sweater got stuck on her earring as she was attempting to pull the red cashmere over her head. It was the most expensive piece of clothing she owned and now here it was, snagging on her cheap TJ MAXX faux diamonds.

Harley made her way to the bedroom and attempted to untangle the mess in front of her full-length mirror. Her abs flexed as the metal yanked on her ear lobe until she was finally able to separate the two.

She studied herself in the mirror for a moment. Her parents had raised her as an athlete, starting her in all sorts of lessons at a very young age. They weren't rich, but they certainly valued the concept of teamwork. Her parents hadn't expected Harley to gravitate towards gymnastics the way she did. The lessons were the most expensive of all her after school activities and Harley knew all the time and energy she'd dedicated to the sport had taken away from her life at home. She stood in front of the mirror looking at the body the sport had given her and remembering the day she'd dishonored it. With a sigh, she removed her bra and pulled on a baggy T-Shirt with the words "Gotham State" printed on the front along with her alma mater's insignia.