Love Doctors {Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy}

Chapter 1: Welcome to Arkham Asylum

Harleen pov
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I had only slept for what felt like a second before my alarm screamed at me from my nightstand. I let out a pitiful groan and flopped my body over to the other side of the bed, turning my alarm clock off. I hadn't slept well that night. I never did on the night before my first day at a new job. It was as if my brain couldn't stop swirling with different versions of how today would go.

I sat up in my comfortable bed. I could practically hear it begging me to lay back down just for a few minutes. I shook the thoughts out of my head.

"Come on, Harley. You can't be late on your first day." I told myself as I let my feet hit the cold wooden floor.

I lazily strolled into the kitchen and started up my coffee machine. The machine purred as it prepared the coffee. I placed a solid white mug under the hole where the coffee was dispensed and headed back to my room.

My outfit was laying across the chair next to my bed, already waiting for me. I had always laid out my outfit for the next day before I went to bed. It gave me a sense of organization and control. I smiled.

I quickly slipped into my outfit and walked across the room until I stood in front of my mirror. I positioned my body at a few different angles. I could tell something was missing. Something that would tie the outfit together nicely. But what was it?

I was rocking a red button-up shirt that was tucked into a pair of long black jeans that were held into place by a thin solid black belt with a silver buckle. A black tie hung down from around the collar of my shirt, giving me a quite masculine appearance. I smiled for that was my goal. Women didn't get much respect in the psychological community, so I had to play my cards carefully and control what I could. Starting with my outfit. I still couldn't figure out what was missing. I looked like a soft sensitive girl with big dreams, but not a lot of will power. I scrunched my nose in disgust.

I tried slipping on my lab coat to see if that was the problem. While it made me look more professional, it didn't help my demand for respect. I glanced down shaking my head foolishly. That's when I saw it. My pair of thickly brimmed glasses were laying on the floor at the foot of my bed. They were not prescription, of course, but I wore them whenever I went out to stop old men from hitting on me. It never worked, but it was always worth a shot.

"I wonder.." I whispered to myself picking up the glasses from the floor.

I slipped them onto my face, making sure not to poke my eye with the arms. I smiled, making my baby blue eyes practically disappear. This was it. The glasses made everything complete. They gave me a look of authority that I hadn't felt in a long time. The kind of authority that one needed to feel when dealing with clinically insane patients.

I happily skipped over to the bathroom to do my makeup. Working inside all of the time left me with a very fair skin tone, causing me to always have to purchase the brand's lightest foundation color, but I didn't mind. It complimented my red shirt anyways. To contrast my fair skin, I carefully coated my soft lips with a deep burgundy lipstick. I tied my platinum blonde hair up into a tight high bun, making sure to leave no hairs poking out.

I heard my coffee machine making a ding noise from the kitchen signaling that my coffee was ready to drink. I threw my lipstick into my mini purse, grabbed my phone and coffee, and headed out the door only to realize I had forgotten my keys. I went back inside, balancing my coffee and phone in one hand, and grabbed my keys. While locking the door, the coffee slipped out of my hands and hit the pavement, spilling everywhere. I sighed and kicked the trash into a nearby bush and made it back into the car after checking that no coffee has spilt on my carefully planned outfit.

"I guess you'll just have to pretend to be awake today, Harley." I shrugged looking at my reflection in the rear view mirror of my car.

The drive to Arkham Asylum was distracting to say the least. But, then again, what drive wasn't whenever you were in Gotham? The sidewalks buzzed with laughter, yelling, and bickering already, and it wasn't even 7 am yet. Then there was, of course, the bad drivers. Now, I might be biased, but I am convinced that Gotham has the most rude drivers in all of the world. People were blaring their horns if you drove the speed limit instead of 20 miles over, people cut in front of you when there was no way they would have made it if you weren't paying attention, people stuck their hands out the window to flick you off, and people would randomly slam on their breaks to try and cause a wreck to get money. It was insane. Every day on the road was a mystery as to which wild card you would get. But I didn't let it bother me. I had a job to get to; no time for useless people.

I arrived at Arkham Asylum ten minutes before I had to be there. I wanted to scout the outside of the building out first in case I needed a quick escape. I believed my methods would work and that I would never need to make a quick escape, but a woman can never be to safe in Gotham. Especially a woman working at Arkham Askylum, Gotham's most popular prison for the mentally ill and clinically insane villains. The sight of the building itself was disturbing. To get in, you had to drive through these tall metal gates that looked like they were straight out of a horrors movie. Once inside of the gates, you were surrounded by dead brown grass in the place of where a lawn used to be. There was only one tree and it was conveniently placed at the corner of the property, right next to a barbed wire fence.

"I'm gonna like it here." I weirdly thought to myself as I got out of my car and headed towards the front door.

I was grimly greeted by an old man who sat behind a desk at the front of the building.

"Can I help you, lady?" He asked in his monotoned voice.

I internally flinched at the sound of someone calling me "lady". Only one person ever called me that and he was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I straightened myself up, trying to look as tall as possible in my solid black heels.

"My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel and today is my first day working here."

"I can take it from here, Buck." A woman walking down the hall called out.

The man, Buck, shrugged his shoulders and went back to managing the security cameras on his computer.

"Hello, Dr. Quinzel. My name is Dr. Lola Martinez, but you can just call me Lola. Everyone does." The lady said reaching her hand out for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, and please, call me Harley. It's what my friends call me." I said grabbing her hand and giving it a small shake.

     "We aren't friends, Harleen. Friends will get you hurt in this place." Lola snorted snatching her hand away. 

     "Oh" My voice quivered.

     "Come on, Harley. No need to be nervous. You need to earn respect not pity. Get it together." The little voice demanded inside of my head.

     Dr. Lola led me down a dimly lit hallway lined with doors, each one having a different label.

     "Oouu. Aren't you a pretty little thing" a voice cackled from one of the doors.

     "Leave her alone, Joker." Dr. Lola hissed at the door.

      From the other side of the door, I could hear a loud high-pitched laugh that sent shivers down my back and made my mouth go dry. I returned my eyes to the ground as I watched the tips of my heels click against the tile floor.

     "This is your office, Harleen." Lola said stopping in front of a doctor labeled 'Dr.Quinzel'. "You will find files in the cabinet next to your desk. You can pick your first patient from those files."

     I nodded as Dr. Lola walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

     "Oh, and Harleen.." she said looking over her shoulder. "Welcome to Arkham Asylum."