By KisserNe 19 Comments
In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, I would like to present Miss Harleen Quinzel, (better known as Harley Quinn,) in this BRAND NEW Kisser Ne Fan-Fiction series dedicated to my greatly appreciated friends, family and audiences. I hope you all enjoy!
This series is rated “M” for mature, (audiences 18+.) This chapter may include violence, sexual content, nudity and vulgar language. Content may be disturbing for some; readers discretion is advised.
Issue #1: Dancing in the Moonlight-
Doctor Harleen Quinzel twirled in the chair in front of her desk. She went around and around, lazily dreaming of the future. She pictured a glorious figure, a man in a suit. He had an extremely familiar face. It made her heart pound and jump from her chest as the clock upon the wall ticked. The longer the hand moved along the face, her anticipation thickened.
She wanted him. No one could know her dark secret, though. She’d lose her job, she’d be labeled as a nutcase and probably end up right here, in the dark damp walls of Arkham. She stomped her thick boots down upon the linoleum and allowed a loud and painful screech to echo in the room as she halted her spinning chair. All of her colleagues turned to glare and she replied with a meek smirk. Her expression screamed “Oops.”
She knew they hated her. She couldn’t count the numerous times that she caught them gossiping behind her back, bickering about how someone like her could have gotten a job at the asylum. They thought she was dumb and at times, Harleen believed them. She also caught the name-calling from every single professor and doctor in the building. They said she was “eccentric,” whatever that means. She could admit that she wasn’t the smartest of the bunch, but she had a right to work here just as much as everyone else!
“Doctor…” An older woman said. Harleen interrupted excitedly as she leapt from her chair to her feet.
“Yes?” Her nasally accent broke the quiet atmosphere like nails down a blackboard.
The woman cleared her throat, lowering her glasses in distain as she sneered at the young woman who had interrupted her. “Ahem, Doctor…Harvey. Your patient is ready for its…I mean…his interview.” She said. She lowered her view to her clipboard and clicked a pen, marking something as she surveyed the rest of the list. Harleen brought her hands together, fidgeting with her fingers as she stepped closer to look at the clipboard.
“Um…anything for me, Mrs. Lank?” She asked as she hovered over the woman. She stood a good five inches over the frumpy toad as she peered at the agenda.
“Well, Miss… I mean, Doctor Quinzel… Your name isn’t listed yet. It also doesn’t have your patient.” The woman snickered as she continued to mark up the paper and call out names. Harleen could see all of the names listed and then something caught her eye. She could feel her heart breaking and some clumps rising in her throat.
“I can see my patient right there,” Harleen pointed at the man’s alias. “He’s my patient.” She squawked.
“Well, you were assigned to someone else, Miss Quinzel.”
“I don’t even think Greg is in today, Mrs. Lank!”
“Harleen, I’m busy.” Harleen’s jaw dropped and then slammed back up. She wasn’t a child and for some damned reason, everyone treated her like she was one. It wasn’t like she couldn’t read the damn piece of paper or see that her name was scratched out. She swallowed and straightened her back, nodding her head briefly. She glanced around the office and curled her upper lip in disgust. She heard her colleagues chuckling, laughing at her expense. It was time to take matters in to her own hands.
She turned and walked out the door, slamming it shut. They wouldn’t even notice that she had left. She galloped down the hall, turned through a couple more corridors and finally approached a door that read:
“Dr. Gregory Gibson, MD”
Harleen twisted the knob, cracked the door open and entered slowly. The room was dim and eerie and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. “Doctor Gibson? Are ya in here?” She whispered. Of course, her version of a whisper was just a quieter and raspy voice. “Hello? Am I talking to myself, here?” She whispered again.
“Darn, well I guess I’ll just have to take my patient back,” she said sarcastically, with a finger to her dimple. She giggled and began to make her exit, but a large dark figure approached and blocked the door. “Gibson!” She squealed. “I was just looking for you,” Harleen stated.
“Is that right?” The man said as he flicked the light switch on and grinned.
“Yeah, ya see. Ya got a certain patient of mine and I was wondering if maybe, I could just keep him. Ya know?”
“If the agenda says we’ve switched, then we’ve switched Harleen.” Doctor Gibson said. He shrugged his shoulders and meandered towards his desk, placing a fat manila folder down upon the wood.
“Well, the thing is…” Harleen began as she pursed her lips and walked closer to him. “I know they did it on purpose. Nobody likes me here.” She pouted. She leaned against the desk and hopped up, crossing her legs slowly as she looked up at the man.
“Oh, come on, Harleen. People like you.” He reassured, giving her a smirk as he patted her shoulder.
“Like… you?” Harleen said.
“Do you like me, Doctor?”
“Of course, I do.” Greg said as he began to lift his hand away from her shoulder. Harleen uncrossed her legs and wrapped them around his thighs, bringing him in closer. She clutched his tie and pulled him down to her eye level as she brought her lips to his chin.
“Do you really?” She asked, teasing his mouth with hers as she kissed his cheeks and the corners of his lips.
“Yes,” he breathed. Harleen could feel his chest pivoting as she closed her eyes and licked his upper lip.
“Then, kiss me.” Harleen kept her eyes closed as she felt the man’s mouth engulf hers. Damn, he’s good. She couldn’t help but to enjoy it, even if it was not her intent. She felt the pleasure tingling through her body as she smiled and broke from the embrace.
“Can I have the Joker?” She whispered, opening her eyes as she smiled cunningly. She watched the man nod. He looked dazed. “Thank you, Greg.” She released him from her legs’ grip, grabbed the patient file and hopped off the desk, skipping her way to the interrogation hall.
“Hey, Mrs. Lank!” Harleen exclaimed, dropping a folder onto the marble counter. “Doctor Gibson says I have an appointment with the Joker,” she smiled, mockingly. She watched the old woman frown as she stamped the file and handed it back to her. “Thanks, Mrs. Lank.” Harleen snatched the folder and continued along the hall to her interview. She reached the room, grasped the knob and began to tremble. There he was, the man in the suit.
Get it together, Harley. Get it together! She tugged at her uniform, folding the bottom hem to shorten the dress and unbuttoning the top to show a bit of her cleavage. She fiddled with her blonde hair, combing the bangs slightly to frame her face. She checked her reflection in one of the glass windows and returned her attention to the doorknob and the purple suited figure. His pale skin, painted like moonlight, his red lips resembling fresh blood and his untamed hair, green as ivy with black roots. He could never like a dame like me.
She sighed, opened the door and entered with one last breath. He looked at her with his green eyes and she almost fainted.
“Hiya,” Harleen replied. Her cheeks flushed pink as she sat down in the chair across from the lanky man. “I mean, hello patient.”
“You act like it’s the first time,” the man said as he turned his face. He gazed at the wall and smiled widely. The permanent stretch of his lips seemed so much more relaxed when he gave the maniacal expression. “Do I make you nervous, doc?”
“Me? Nervous? Never,” She laughed. She was lying. It had to be obvious. The more he smiled and the more he stared, the more she felt the butterflies soaring. Interview after interview, the outcome was always the same and Harleen realized they needed each other.
He made her feel perfect, natural and interesting. She didn’t fit in with all of those stiff petticoats that huddled in the offices, judging their patients, acting as if the patients all were some sort of sideshow attraction to throw popcorn at. Things had to change. The Joker was right; they were the victims, not the criminals and that’s where it all began. Harleen removed her mask and discovered the truth. They were the future.
“I need you, Harley.” The Joker said. He leaned forward and placed his cupped hands flat upon the table. He acted as if he was negotiating with a very important business partner. Perhaps, that was where her emotions for the lunatic began to build and advance. He considered her an important partner, a second half and his golden ticket. He needed her as much as she needed him. “I’ve got big plans, toots.”
“But you’ll never get out here,” she squeaked. Her mind was rushing with thoughts as she leaned in closer. He had her balancing on the edge of her seat, fascinated by his mere presence. She wanted to know how he’d escape and what these big plans were; she wanted to know it all.
“Ah! But that’s where you come in, my dear.” He grinned. “I’m confined, but you…you can help me.”
“How could I…?”
“Not here, not now.” He said, wagging a finger in her direction. “Later, toots. Later.” The Joker grumbled. He began to laugh, hysterically. The interview was over. Guards entered the room, fully armed as usual and grasped the Joker by his shoulders.
“Did you get anything out of him?” A man in a grey uniform asked. Harley looked up and shook her head.
“No, nothin’” she said. She gestured with a hand to excuse herself from the conversation. She meandered through the gathering nurses and doctors, hearing their voices fade and muffle as she began to zone out on the previous interview. She took sluggish and long strides as everything around her began to blur. He wants me to help him? He needs me to help him? He needs…me.
She managed to escape the crowds of scientists and sat clumsily at her desk, almost falling off the chair when she landed. She stared at the eggshell white walls that were stained a putrid yellow-brown from grunge and nicotine. Do I dare? Do I join him? She pondered. She grasped a thick strand of her hair and began to twirl it around her fingers. She threw a piece of gum into her mouth as she began to chew, popping it obnoxiously every once in awhile.
Do I…? She was interrupted by the loud laughs of her colleagues who had gathered in the hall. They pointed and stared, mocking her. It must have been etched in their daily regiments. They always mimicked her voice, pretended to be her, making her look like she was dumb and clumsy. She grinded her teeth together as her eyes began to flame.
The twig finally snapped and she had made her decision. She was going to the Joker. She met him in the darkness. “So you came? Heh-heh, good…” The raspy voice echoed from all around. The maniacal laughter boomed from wall to wall.
Harleen gulped. She was trembling. The most insane factor was she wasn’t sure if she was shaking from fear or excitement. She was anticipating what was to come, unsure of the trap she had possibly entered. He was psychopathic killer, a master of trickery and yet, her crimson stained lips curled into a smile.
“Remember the flowers?” Joker’s voice whispered, his lips grazing her ear. His bony fingers stroked her cheek and brushed her hair back. He inhaled, breathing in her scent as if it was oxygen.
“Ahuh,” she moaned. She felt her body stiffen as the Joker continued to stand behind her, inching closer and closer until they were almost one. One hand remained resting on her neck as the other slithered up her arm, down to her thigh and then back to her waist. His fingers raked at her skin, tangling with the skirt of her uniform. She rolled her fingers into her palms, squeezing them tightly into clenched fists and her eyes widened.
“We could be something, you know? I could rule the world…together! King and… well you, Harley!” The Joker waved his hand straight across an imaginary canvas. He wanted to paint the picture, perfectly. “Can’t you picture it, sweets?” He maneuvered around her body, switching his position. He stood in front of her, squeezing her arms. They were nose to nose. He smiled, leaned forward and she shivered.
“Imagine the future, Harley.” He grinned deviously. His eyes sparkled and Harleen found herself captivated.
“I… I…” She stammered, but she shook her head and tried to take a step back. She struggled against his grip, but managed to break free. She watched his lit face morph into a pout as he stared blankly at her. “I know nothin’ about you!” She spat. She wondered if she was only making excuses as she tried to free her mind. “You don’t trust me…” She peered at the moonlight and crossed her arms, hugging herself.
“You think I like this?” The Joker exclaimed. “I don’t like being this…this puppet of society! I chose this life because…because…my father.” He paused and Harley turned to rest her eyes upon him. Pleased, he continued. “My childhood is a rippling puddle of destruction and false hope; misery and pain.” He draped his purple-cloaked arm over his eyes and howled. Harley frowned and paced forward. She outstretched a hesitant arm as she tried to comfort him.
“I’m…I’m so sorry.” She murmured.
“No, you’re not. That’s what you wanted, right? You wanted to make this into a session.” He barked, crossing his arms and straightening his back. He threw his nose into the air as he looked towards the ceiling. “And I thought this was going to be something special!” The Joker’s voice rumbled as he stood perfectly still. Harley froze, feeling the mass amounts of guilt rush through her being. She didn’t mean to make him feel bad.
“You’re the only one that’s understood me.” The Joker said, looking down at the whimpering woman. He returned to the front of her body and grasped her hand with his palms. “Dare I say, the only one who understands me…” Harley looked up at the man, her eyes filling with tears as she smiled. The lunatic returned the gesture, squeezing her palm as he gazed adoringly at her. “What do you say…join me?” He asked.
Harleen began to contemplate the idea in her head and her life flashed before her eyes. She felt her nerves spike as she stared into his emerald eyes. “What do I need to do?”
“There’s a good girl…” The Joker beamed as the moonlight blared through the metal screens. Things were finally going according to plan.
Join us next time in "Harlequin":
Issue #2- "the Heartbreaker"
Characters Harleen Quinzel (A.K.A Harley Quinn) and the Joker belong to DC Comics. Setting Arkham Asylum/Gotham City, belong to DC Comics. The story line(s) used in this series may be loosely based on comic book character appearances. "Harlequin" story line is from my own imagination based on DC Comics. The other characters mentioned in this issue are my own creation (Dr. Gibson, Dr. Harvey, Mrs. Lank.)
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