Shadow Self

The door of the session room squealed open and Dr. Harleen Quinzel entered. This end of Arkham Asylum was far from the white, clinical look of the front offices. Drab paint peeled from the walls and the spotted lighting made the area look dimmer than it was. She stepped inside with the door wide open. She turned to speak with the dark-skinned guard standing near the entrance.

"You can leave now, Cash. I want some privacy."

Cash scratched his forehead under the brim of his cap with his artificial two-pronged hand. "You think that's wise, Dr. Quinzel?"

"I know what I'm doing, Cash."

"Didn't say that, doctor. Just sayin'...be careful."

"I know, Cash. Thanks."

Cash started to leave when he added, "I'll be right outside this door in case you start screaming."

"Go," she said as she pointed outside.

Cash left and the door creaked closed behind him.

She turned and started walking towards the table set at the other end of the room. The figure sitting there was in the Arkham patient uniform and was hand-cuffed by a long chain to a ring set in the center of the table. His face was clear of any makeup, which made the scars across his mouth even more evident.

As she approached, he chimed in, "I hope you weren't too hard on poor Cash. He needs all the encouragement he can get. You should give him a hand." He laughed maniacally.

She reached directly across from him with high emotion. Without a word, she took her hand back and slapped it across his face with a loud smack.

He was stunned for a few seconds and then he ogled his eyes at her and bemused, "Rough day at work, honey?"

"Don't you ever embarrass me like that again!"

He licked his lips casually and chose a sarcastic tone when he asked, "Why, whatever do you mean, dear?"

She replied in a lower voice, "There is no way that Bruce Wayne is the Batman. I...I felt like a fool coming at him like that."

"Hmm...first you hit him, and then you slap me. I do love it when you're forceful."

"Shut up!"

"Ah, got a little mouth on you, too." On seeing that she wasn't sharing his amusement, he asked her seriously, "Tell me...how was his, uh...defense?"

"Sloppy. Like a billionaire would be. He had no fight in him. He didn't use any moves. He did try to defend himself but it wasn't professional. I don't think the man's ever been in a fist fight before in his life. I could have gone on, but he..."

There was a pause that was too long for his liking and he beckoned, "He...what? C'mon, Harley, it's me."

"If I kept beating him up, I'd have to explain myself to Dr. Moss."

For a moment, it seemed he was processing what she was saying. And then he suddenly burst out laughing. He slapped his hand on the desk which rattled the chain between handcuffs.

Harley looked at him in disbelief. "Yeah, go ahead. Laugh. After all, it's not your career on the line."

He settled down and stated, "My sweetie, he played you."

Harley squawked, "Ya think? Either he's as good as you say, or he's the dumbest fighter ever. I think you're way off if you think he's Batman, because I don't think he is."

"That's what he wants you to think. Oh, he is good."

"Well, that's the last time I do any favors for you."

"Now, Harley. You know I hate to see you depressed." He licked his lips. "Lemme guess...he put some, uh...ideas in your little head, didn't he?"

"He might have," she spoke evenly. "Did your father really dress you like a clown and beat you if you tried to take it off?"

"With all of his blackened heart."

"Is that the truth?"

He leaned into her with his arms folded on the table. "Well...that depends."

"On what?"

"Which truth are you trying to find?"

Harley gave a loud exasperating sigh. "Ah! That's it! I'm tired of the games. Just like Bruce said." She turned to head back towards the exit when she heard a blood-curling call.

"Harley!" he growled like an enraged animal. When she stopped and turned around to face him, his demeanor changed from terror back to sweetness. He flashed a wide grin and pleaded, "Sweetie, don't leave like this. What he said doesn't matter. C'mon...stay. I'll tell you about my mother this time. It's a hell of a true story."

"What makes you think I'll believe you?"

He licked his lips before he answered, "Well, I believe it. Isn't that what you really want?"

"I guess so." She returned back to the table.

"And don't you worry about Mr. Wayne. He'll reveal his shadow in time."

She brightened. "You have a plan, don't you, Joker?"

He put his index finger up to his mouth. "Shhh...don't let it out. I've got a rep around here, ya know." He laughed. "Oh, by the way, I thought I told you never to call me that. C'mon, you know what to call me."

She gave an embarrassing look. "Not in here. There's too many ears in this place."

"Then I'll take a drill to all of them!" He laughed. "Come on, sweetie, you know you are the light of my life!"

Harley hesitated before she replied quietly, "I know...puddin'"

THE END...?