Hello all, I hope you enjoy my new story. It's one I've been thinking about for a while, and I've got lots of ideas about where it's going, so let's see what happens!

Just a little bit of info, this is a story about Harley and Joker, but though it is based on the characters from the movies, comics, and games, it's my own interpretation of their story. I invent my own version of Harley, and my own story about these two, how they meet, and how their relationship develops. Their relationship will be different to how it is in the comics and games, because that's the world I have created, so please don't tell me that I'm not being true to the original content, because I know! :)

So yes, it's a unique story, with elements taken from other sources. I hope you enjoy it, I'd love your feedback!

Doctor Harleen Quinzel looked at herself in the full length mirror of her small apartment. She still didn't feel right. Something was wrong with how she looked, but she couldn't figure out what. She regarded herself again, turning to the side to try and work out what it was. She wore a black skirt cut to the knee, and a plum coloured blouse. Dark stockings on her legs, and simple black shoes with a small heel. Her blonde hair was pulled into a neat bun on the top of her head, because she had hoped this would make her appear more legitimate. She wasn't sure if it had worked, but she didn't have time to change it now. She was late.

Harleen adjusted her square black glasses, grabbed her keys, and headed for the door. It would not form a great impression if she was late on her first day of her new job.

Harleen was not sure how to feel about her new role. When she graduated as a doctor of psychiatry, she had hopes of opening her own practice: treating young adults and children who had been through trauma, and helping them to find ways to manage their emotions and continue with their lives. However, she had spent the last few months of her training caring for her sick mother, who died only days before final exams. Harleen had not got the results she wanted, meaning she couldn't get the job she had hoped to get, and was therefore unlikely to save enough money to open her own practice any time soon.

It was only through sheer luck that she had managed to land a job at all. Her friend Sarah was a doctor at Arkham Asylum, located on a small island outside Gotham. She had managed to sweet talk the warden into giving Harleen a chance.

"I don't know the first thing about how to deal with criminals," Harleen had said, when Sarah gave her the news (she had of course failed to inform Harleen of her idea until after securing her the job). "I majored in child psychology."

Sarah had shrugged, in the way she always did when she thought Harleen was worrying over nothing. "It's not so different, many of our patients have the minds of children anyway. It's not like you'll be dealing with the super villains."

"I don't know," Harleen had sighed. "This isn't how I pictured my life turning out, I had a plan..."

Sarah had patted her arm reassuringly. "You've spent your life making plans Harley, but life doesn't work like that. Why don't you try just going with something for a change?"

So that's what she'd done, she'd gone with it. And this morning she'd put her smartest outfit on, and told herself all she had to do was look confident and try her best. Who needed a plan? What's the worst that could happen?

The positive attitude lasted until she arrived at the gates. They were opened by a guard sat inside a small hut, who didn't even glance at her ID before letting her in, because he was too busy doing a crossword. "Well that's safe," Harleen muttered as she drove up the long driveway towards the Asylum. The sky had darkened, and it was beginning to rain. She turned on the squeaky wipers of her old car, gritting her teeth at the irritating sound. She glanced around, she could see some patients in their orange jumpsuits raking leaves to her left, while a few others appeared to be planting some flowers. They can't have been too dangerous, they only had one guard, though he was armed. Harleen took a deep breath, how do you know which ones are the dangerous ones?

She continued up the driveway, and the buildings came into view. Sarah had told her that the Asylum itself was made up of five buildings: the penitentiary, where the patients lived, the medical facility, where most of the treatment occurred, intensive treatment, the botanical gardens, and the old mansion, which was mainly offices.

Harleen's work would be based in the medical facility, though as yet, she was still not entirely sure of her role.

Harleen parked her car in the small car park behind the medical facility. The rain was pouring now, had of course she had forgotten her umbrella. Harleen opened the door quickly, and stepped out, straight into a puddle. "Oh, shit!" She groaned, as her left foot filled up with water. "Great."

She slammed the car door and hurried towards the steps to the medical facility. Inside she found the front desk, which was empty. Harleen waited for a few moments, not entirely sure what she was supposed to do now. She tapped her fingers anxiously on the desk, only now realising she had forgotten to remove the chipped black nail polish. Really professional, she thought..

"Can I help you?"

Harleen turned around, a stressed looking woman carrying several files was approaching the desk. Her hair was dark brown, and escaping from her ponytail, and she slammed the files down on the desk hurriedly. She looked like the last thing she wanted to do was deal with someone new, and didn't look up from her files when Harleen spoke.

"Yes, hello, I'm Harley..Harleen, Doctor Harleen Quinzel," Harleen kicked herself, she always stumbled over her words when she was nervous, but the other woman didn't seem to be paying that much attention. "How can I help you doctor? If it's about the heating in treatment room B all I can say is that I called maintenance an hour ago-"

Harleen shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm new. I'm supposed to be starting here today."

The woman still didn't look up. "Sorry, we get so many new faces, it's hard to remember who actually works here."

"Do you have lots of staff then?"

She shook her head again. "No, no one ever stays for very long." She was typing something on her computer now, unaware of the slightly terrified look that crossed Harleen's face.

"Ok let's see here. What did you say your name was? Arleen?"

"Harleen, but everyone calls me Harley."

"Ok Carly, I'll get someone to take you to your office. You can access your computer from there and that will give you your appointment list for today."

Harley was going to correct her, but decided it was easier just to go along with it.

It turned out that Harley's office was over in the mansion, which was a fifteen minute walk from the medical facility. Harley might've been able to get there quicker, but the man who had been chosen to take Harley to her new office was actually one of the residents ("he's harmless, don't worry", the woman had said before going back to her files), and he insisted on giving Harley a complete run down of the entire facility, including every statue, bench, and trash can they crossed, on the way to the mansion. That might not have been so bad, if it wasn't for the torrential rain. By the time they reached the mansion Harley was soaked to the skin, freezing cold, and feeling less like a doctor than ever.

The patient, who was called Timothy, took her to her office, then bowed as he left, which made Harley smile for the first time that day. She looked around at the office. It was small, not much more than a box room, but it had a desk with a computer, and a relatively comfy looking couch, as well as a bookshelf filled with books and journals on psychiatry, and a small rubber plant in the corner which looked as though it had seen better days. It could be worse, Harley thought, sitting down on the chair in front of her desk. She powered on the computer and typed in the log-in details the woman at the desk had given her.

Harley had never been great with computers, so it took her a good ten minutes to find her appointment diary, and then another five to open it.

"Meet with Warden Sharp for tour of facility," she read aloud. "9.30am." She looked at her watch: 9.28am. "Oh crap!" She muttered, jumping up from the chair and running to the door. She swung it open and raced out, immediately colliding with someone. Papers were everywhere, fluttering down through the air like moths.

"I'm so sorry," Harley said to the doctor she had just collided with.

"Accidents happen," the female doctor said in a brisk voice, sounding as though they did, in fact, not happen.

"Let me help," Harley offered, kneeling down to help pick up all the paperwork. She hastily collected the scraps of paper, knowing she would never be able to get them back into whatever order they were in before. As she reached for another sheet she paused. She recognised the face in the picture. Everyone in Gotham knew that face. "The Joker," she muttered.

She looked up at the doctor, about to ask if they were any closer to catching him, when she realised the doctor was not the only person in the hallway. Behind her were two heavily armed guards, and in between both of them was the man himself. Strapped to a prisoner movement gurney, the Joker looked exactly like all the pictures Harley had seen. Dark green hair, pale skin, cold grey eyes. His suit was dark purple and stained, it looked as though he had had a rough night. His arms were strapped to his sides, and he wore a look of quiet amusement as he regarded her.

Harley's mouth was a desert. She hurriedly picked up the rest of the papers and passed them to the doctor, before stepping back against the wall. The doctor continued down the corridor, with the two guards pulling the gurney behind them. The Joker's eyes never left Harley. She could feel them boring into her as she looked at the floor. After what felt like an eternity, they had turned the corner and were out of sight.

Harley finally allowed herself to breathe. Her heart was racing. She had just come face to face with arguably the most dangerous criminal Gotham had ever seen. She was frightened, terrified really, but there was also something else. A buzz. Maybe this job would have something she had never planned for: excitement? Maybe it would be something that would truly make her feel alive, like her life wasn't just a boring series of events she was watching rather than experiencing. Maybe this would be the thing to make her feel like she was living, not just existing?