Author's Note: I have done a lot of research on Harleen Quinzel, and whilst I will keep a lot of her origin story, I will be changing large parts of her past. I am truly intrigued by Harleen, so I'm going to try follow her story from before her transition right through the events of 'Suicide Squad'. A couple of important notes would be that my Joker and Harleen are based of the 'Suicide Squad' versions. I will also tweaking the relationship (such as a lot of the comic events will not happen at all) but otherwise all the best scenes will be untouched. Constructive criticism and ideas are encouraged.

This may be a bit of a slow first chapter, but the more interesting interactions should start next chapter. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter One.

Harleen Francis Quinzel considered herself in the carefully polished mirror standing at her vanity. Long golden blonde hair precisely twisted into a thick braid behind her back, large blue eyes lightly surrounded by mascara, pouted lips lightly coated in lip balm. A mauve, button-up shirt tucked cleanly into a smooth black pencil skirt, black patent leather shoes with a small heel, and an impeccable white lab coat completed her look.

Harleen took a long, steadying breath as she worried over her appearance, it was paramount that she was taken seriously as a professional, and her blonde, busty appearance had caused her issues with such in the past. Glancing at the spotless wooden surface of her vanity, she selected her smart, black glasses and pushed them onto her carefully presented face. Though her glasses were technically prescription, they were not needed for more than reading fine print. However they gave her a sense of security, so she nodded briefly at herself, before exhaling sharply and gently pushing her simple, black, leather handbag up to her shoulder and turning from the mirror.

Taking longer than was necessary to lock (and triple check) her peeling front door, Harleen attempted to convince herself that the care was just due to the less-than-stellar neighbourhood she currently lived in, and not an attempt to delay her first official day at Arkham Asylum.

Pushing down the desire to run back into her apartment and hide under the covers of her bed like a child, Harleen made her way to her small, battered, dark green Honda. The old car spluttered to life as she drove carefully to work, strictly never going faster than the speed limit, much to the chagrin of the furious drivers behind her.

As Harleen approached the tall wrought iron gates with a gloomy sign announcing 'Arkham Asylum' she briefly flashed a temporary pass she had been given a week earlier at the bored looking guard, who pressed a small button to open the gates with an ominous creaking sound and returned to his newspaper without a word.

The Asylum looked like something out of a gothic storybook she marvelled. The Asylum was an opposing figure, four stories tall with crumbling dark grey stonework walls, slated black roofing, and overgrown grounds, the place was darkly beautiful, until the heavily barred windows came into focus with a stark reminder of what the Asylum truly was.

Harleen concentrated once more on her calming breathing, before locking her car, steeling her shoulders, and briskly walking towards the heavy metal front doors. Pressing firmly on the white buzzer, Harleen leaned down slightly and announced herself into the accompanying speaker. "One moment, Doctor Quinzel" came the slightly garbled reply, before the doors swung open.

Glancing around the reception area, Harleen couldn't help but be slightly disappointed at the generic appearance of the inside of the building. Squeaky white floors, bland tan walls, and a large wooden desk made up the area, with the only unusual features being panic buttons clearly marked along the walls, barred windows, and thick protective glass surrounding the reception desk.

Approaching the desk, Harleen studied the woman behind the desk, a portly woman of about sixty, with greying brown hair pulled back into a severe bun, glanced up at her. The woman smiled kindly before sliding a large brown packet through a slot in the protective glass.

"Hello, you must be Doctor Quinzel, I'm Patricia Markham, but you can call me Pat. The packet here has the rest of the paperwork for you to sign, your login codes for your computer, and the keys to your office. I added in a brief map for you, just in case" Pat spoke quickly and softly.

Harleen felt some of the anxious ball of tension in her stomach ease slightly at the kindness of the woman. As she reached to grab the offered packet she responded softly "Thank you Pat, you can just call me Harleen if you would like". Harleen focused carefully on her words, ensuring the thick brooklyn dialect of her natural speaking voice did not surface.

"Well Harleen, if you take a quick look at that map you should be able to make your way to Doctor Arkhams office, I've marked it for you, I think he's the first one you'll be seeing today. Oh I nearly forgot, your pass card is here, you'll need it to get through most of the doors here. Good luck honey" Pat said, flashing a warm smile at Harleen, as she handed over a laminated pass card.

"Thank you Pat, I appreciate it" Harleen called as she flashed a smile back at the kindly woman, before making her way over to the large doors. Harleen paused to glance at the pass card she had been handed, a small photo of herself that had been taken upon a previous interview stared back at her. Harleen clipped the pass card to her coat pocket before pulling the map from the packet she had been handed.

Passing through the doors with her new pass card and a last glance at her map, Harleen headed down the long corridor towards the elevators at the far end. The rooms Harleen passed appeared to be primarily storage and office rooms, and some low security risk rooms.

Entering the elevator, Harleen quickly pressed the button for the fourth floor. Harleen continued her calming breaths in the private space. As the doors opened, Harleen once again hurried along the shining white floors as she glanced around at the wooden doors. These rooms appeared to be more offices, and a large sign at the end of the hall indicated a medical ward.

Stopping in front of a door with a polished silver name plate, Harleen knocked quickly on the solid door. "Come in!" Called a deep voice. Harleen opened the door and cautiously glanced around, before laying eyes on an averagely built man in his sixties, the man had sharp brown eyes, and thinning brown hair.

"Hello Doctor Arkham, I'm Harleen Quinzel, I'm here for the internship" Harleen spoke nervously, holding her hand out for Doctor Arkham to shake.

"Yes, yes of course, Doctor Quinzel, I'm pleased to meet you" Doctor Arkham said as he shook Harleens hand firmly before releasing and moving back to sit behind his large desk, indicating that Harleen should take the seat in front of him. "I must say, I was impressed by your resume, your grades were nearly perfect and the recommendation from Doctor Markus was glowing." Doctor Arkham spoke, eyeing Harleen carefully.

"Thank you Doctor Arkham, it's a pleasure to be accepted here. I admire the work here, and I must say the work specifically with the high profile patients caught my attention, as it says in my resume, extreme mental disorders specifically in terms of the criminally insane was a large focus in my studies." Harleen responded eagerly, a thrill of excitement at the idea of her work coursing through her body.

Doctor Arkham nodded sagely at her before leaning back in his large office chair "Yes, I found your thesis most intriguing. Of course you will begin your work with some of the more low risk patients, but then of course I'm interested to see how some our more high risk patients will respond to you"

Harleen nodded back at Doctor Arkham, thrilled at the confirmation she would be able to work with the patients who intrigued her the most. "Of course, thank you Doctor Arkham".

Doctor Arkham stood carefully "Well I think it's best I showed you to Doctor Leland, who will show you around and introduce you to the workings of Arkham Asylum" Doctor Arkham spoke as he opened the door for Harleen, indicating that she should exit ahead of him.

Harleen and Doctor Arkham spoke quietly about her thesis as they made their way down the hall to the a door with the name plate announcing "Doctor Leland". "Well this is where I'll leave you, we'll meet again next week to discuss your time here and your patients. It was nice to meet you Doctor Quinzel" Doctor Arkham spoke briskly, shaking Harleens hand once again before turning and walking back up the hall.

Harleen once knocked quickly before once again going through the classic introductions with Doctor Leland. Doctor Leland was a dark skinned woman with a sleek black bob cut, clear brown eyes, and a stern aura.

Doctor Leland wasted no time in showing Harleen around the Asylum, explaining the vigourous security measures, briefly introducing her to fellow staff members they happened across, and explaining the routine of the patients and staff. Harleen hung on every word, determined not to forget a thing she was told.

Doctor Leland then led Harleen to a door which had Harleens heart skipping a beat, on the solid wooden door was a shiny new nameplate reading 'Doctor Quinzel'. As Harleen picked through the packet she had been previously been given for her keys to the office, Doctor Leland explained that Harleen would be left to settle into her office, with the patient files she had been assigned, until her introductions to her patients later in the afternoon.

Harleen breathed a sigh of relief as she shut her office door behind her. Meeting her new bosses had been intimidating, Harleen however, gave herself a figurative pat on the back for keeping her cool with the new Doctors she had met.

Harleens office was a small room, not as big as Doctors Arkham or Leland's, but it was a nice enough room, with industrial blue carpeting, a tall metal filing cabinet clean beige walls, and a small window set behind an oak desk. The desk held a simple computer, a small notebook, and a stack of files that Harleen assumed belonged to her first patients.

Harleen grinned as she sat on the stiff desk chair behind her new desk, this is what she had worked so hard for, this is what she had sacrificed all through her schooling for. No, she thought abruptly, she couldn't think about the past today, this was her brand new beginning.

Harleen spent the next few hours signing the remaining paperwork, logging on the her computer to copy the online appointment diary into her own small purple appointment book, and reading through her new patient files.

At the end of her first work day, Harleen felt satisfied with her work. While none of patients had disorders that held any true interest to her, having been a schizophrenic middle aged woman, a young man with bipolar disorder (who had been heavily medicated that day, due to an outburst the following night), and an older man with alzheimer's who was prone to violent outbursts, she felt that she had gotten along well with her patients though.

Once Harleen had returned to the comfort of her small apartment, she let her hair down and changed into just a baggy shirt before settling herself on her worn grey couch and glanced at the phone beside her. Harleen bit her lip anxiously before reaching out a slightly shaking hand to the phone and dialing quickly before she could talk herself out of it.

"Hello?" came the gruff voice through phone, Harleen inhaled sharply at the familiar voice before responding quietly "Hi Barry, it's Harleen". There was a long pause before she got a response "What do you want Harleen, I told you not to call me anymore" came the snappish response. Hurt tears burnt at Harleens eyes "But… But we're family Barry" her voice wavered as she almost whispered back. "No, no we're not, not anymore. You know exactly why Harleen. I have no sister, don't call back." the dial tone of the phone rung in her ear as she sniffed back the burning tears.

Harleen didn't want to think about the phone call, she walked briskly to her bedroom, sitting down on the side of her bed before pulling out her sleeping pills from her bedside table. Harleen tried to avoid taking medication where it wasn't necessary, but this seemed to count as an emergency to her. Taking two pills and swallowing them dry, Harleen settled back into her bed, allowing the abundance of pillows on her bed to swallow her up as she faded into the blackness of sleep.