Harleen Part 7/19
Author: BlueSuede
Title: Harleen
Rating: PG13/T
Genre: Friendship/Romance
Pairings: Chloe/Bruce
Summary: Chloe is on a recruiting mission, trying to pin down Gotham's infamous Dark Knight. In order to learn more about him, she begins interviewing those he's captured. What will she do when the Joker escapes and begins targeting her?
Warning: I understand that this story may not be entirely consistent with Nolan's Batman. Mostly this will be a result of my growing up with Batman the Animated Series.
banner by cheryljluv
First Chapter
Previous (Chapter 6)
Next (Chapter 8)
I know; I know. I've been missing for at least a month now, and this story has been particularly neglected. I hope you'll forgive me, though, because in the first place, my tumultuous romantic life has caused - among other things - writer's block in the worst way. In the second place, I've been subconsciously avoiding this one because I was so intimidated by the prospect of writing the Joker. It was something I wanted to get just right because the Joker is truly iconic. I had mixed feelings about whether to go for the Nolan/Heath Ledger Joker or the cartoon/Mark Hamil Joker, and it was all just one giant mess in my mind. However, as I simultaneously slay the dragons in romantic life, I have also decided to tackle this beast-y of a chapter, and hopefully it will be followed by many more.
Thanks for the patience and encouragement,
BlueSuede
-7-
Chloe shuddered. That laughter again. She had finally made it to the last wing of Arkham Asylum, the one she'd been putting off for ages. Why? Because everyday she heard the maniacal laughter that echoed from that corridor. Chloe had issues regarding the mentally unstable, that much was something she had embraced by now, but she'd mostly been able to keep her cool while doing her research at Arkham. But there was something about that laughter that made her want to hit the ground running.
Part of her was tempted to skip the entire wing altogether. Her research there had given her a profile on Batman that made him that much more fascinated by him, but at the end of the day, didn't really help her find him. So rather than face the bone-chilling cackling that came from that hall, she would rather have called it a day and started following her other leads.
But her meeting with Lucius Fox wasn't for a couple of days, and not for nothing was she Watchtower. She hadn't earned that position for closing a book too early.
No, she was going to question every person in that asylum that had so much as heard Batman's cape swish. There was always that possibility that one of them knew that key piece of information that would suddenly fit the puzzle together for her.
So, taking a deep breath she rounded the corner, smiling feebly at the guard sitting in a chair near the door.
"Mornin', Miss Sullivan," he greeted her from behind his newspaper.
"Morning, Tom," Chloe answered, her throat going dry as she heard the laughter. Slow, low, building.
It was like whoever it was knew she was coming.
Trying to get a grip on herself and not quite sure whether she had succeeded, she pressed the door open and entered the last unexplored hallway of Arkham Asylum.
There were only a few inmates here. She spotted a man with pale skin and a distant, pained expression on his face. He was seated under some sort of vent that appeared to be keeping the climate freezing cold in his cell, and he was staring into a musical snow globe, the figure of a woman ballerina circling slowly as soft music played, underscoring everything that happened in that hall.
Another man was lying on his side, his expression blank and vacant, drooling onto the pillow. His skin bore stretch marks as if he had once had unnaturally large muscles. Judging by the look of him, he had overdosed severely on drugs, probably some sort of muscle enhancing steroid, and it hadn't left his mind in very good shape, the only sounds he made were the occasional moans and grunts.
There was a strange looking man with an oversized head and very large front teeth, sitting on the floor of his cell and muttering a rhyme under his breath, one that Chloe recognized from Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll,
"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat How I wonder what you're at! Up above the world you fly Like a tea-tray in the sky."
Amidst this music, moaning, and muttering, one thing stood out: the sound of a low, demonic chuckle, coming from the end of the hall.
Losing her nerve, Chloe started to turn around, thinking to get herself a cup of coffee to calm herself before re-attacking this, but a voice stopped her.
At last, the laughing man spoke.
"You know, Miss Sullivan, I must say, I'm hurt that you haven't been to see me already."
Chloe wanted to run away. That voice...it was mocking and amused and altogether too calm. She couldn't think why she expected it to be agitated, but something about that calm terrified her.
"Well now, don't keep me waiting. It's rude, you know. And really, I'm so bored," he coaxed, and she took a slow, wary step toward the speaker's cell. Then she shook herself. Even if he was the most terrifying man on the face of the planet, he was locked safely behind a glass wall, and there was nothing he could do to her. Gathering up her courage, she walked more confidently.
She felt the eyes of the other three men follow her, even though none of them moved or otherwise acknowledged her presence. She made it to the front of the cell she'd been both consciously and subconsciously avoiding for all this time, and she caught her breath. Dark sunken in eyes, pale skin, matted, almost green-tinted hair, and...his face...it was...
He leaned closer to her, forearms resting on his knees, a twisted smile on his face, "You wanna know how I got these scars?"
Chloe's eyes widened ever so slightly. She felt an internal reflex urging her to turn and run the other way, growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment. Chloe never ignored her instincts, but they didn't normally tell her to leave a job unfinished. She supposed there was a first time for everything. She got a grip on herself and coolly replied, "You seem eager to tell me."
"Well, I used to know this girl, see, real pretty, smart woman. Blonde." Chloe narrowed her eyes. "I was in love with her, you know. But she never paid any attention to me. She was seeing somebody else. Big thug. Could've torn me limb from limb. Well eventually this girl did notice me and eventually I kissed her because that's what you do when you like a pretty girl." He leaned forward, the glint in his eyes indicating that he'd gotten to his favorite part of the story. "So her boyfriend finds out, right? And he and his buddies jump me one night, and they hold me down while he takes his knife out," he held up his hand as though he were clutching an invisible knife, "and says, 'Why so serious?'"
Chloe repressed a shudder.
"And he carves a smile into my face, saying I should be smiling since I kissed his girl. He made sure no girl ever wanted to kiss me again."
She closed her eyes. It was a vivid story, and hard not to believe, but she did know better, really. She'd listened to him for two full minutes and already she saw all the signs of a pathological liar. She had to wonder what had really happened to him.
"What's your name?" she asked eventually. "You already know mine."
He leaned back again, dropping his head to rest against the cement wall behind him, his expression unimpressed. "Now, now, Miss Sullivan, you know who I am."
"I know what they call you."
"And?" he pressed, his twisted grin starting to appear again.
"I want to know your real name."
"My name is what they call me."
She shook her head. "You were someone before you were dubbed the Clown Prince of Crime. Who?"
He shrugged. "Who were you?"
She blinked at the question. "What?"
"Who were you?" he repeated, lifting his head again. "Before I was the Clown Prince."
Her brow creased slightly. "I don't know what you mean."
At that he lost his casual appearance and leaned forward again, as if getting down to business. "You're sporting with my intelligence, Miss Sullivan. I believe the Scarecrow said it best. We have nothing to do but sit around all day and listen to everything else going on around here. You and I both know that you are not who you say you are."
Chloe kept her pokerface. "Oh?"
"That's all right, I like a good game of charades. What are you: butcher, baker, candle-stick maker?"
"Writer," she said simply.
"Lies, lies, lies. My goodness you must have had lousy parents. Didn't anyone ever tell you?" He leaned forward, a vindictive expression on his face, "Lying never pays."
Chloe took an involuntary step back.
Desperate to go home and calm her nerves, Chloe knocked politely on Dr. Quinzel's office door. "Dr - Harleen?" she called, the sound of a light tapping noise coming through the door to greet her ears.
"Come in," the doctor's voice rang out in a light, sing-song way.
Eyebrow up, Chloe pushed the door open and once again entered the good doctor's office.
Dr. Harleen Quinzel was leaning lightly against the edge of her desk, playing with a paddle-ball.
"Hello," she said brightly. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" she asked.
Chloe choked back a snort of laughter. As per usual around Arkham asylum, it was pouring steady rain outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance at that exact moment. "Erm...sure." Then she spotted something: a single flower in a vase sitting on the doctor's desk. Chloe smiled. Could it be the doctor had an admirer? Judging by the playful, happy expression on the woman's face, it was easy to believe she was feeling lucky in love.
Eventually the woman set the paddle-ball down. "Sorry, I've been going through files all morning and I really couldn't take it anymore, so I was taking a break, and then I wanted to see if I could hit 200." She shrugged, smiling a wide, almost startling smile at Chloe. "Nice weekend?" she asked.
Chloe nodded. "Yours?"
"Mmmm...yeah." Yep. Definitely love-sick. "So who did you talk to today?" Harleen asked, moving to sit behind her desk again.
"The...patient in the east-wing. Room Seven. He wouldn't give me a name."
Harleen looked up, eyes bright. "Isn't he incredible?" she asked.
"Umm..." Chloe tried not to look shocked. Several adjectives had come to mind while speaking to the Joker. None of them had been 'incredible.' "He's...something."
"Such a tragic story, too," Harleen said, her face turning to one of utmost sympathy and pity. "The way his dad mutilated his face that way..." she trailed off, thoughtful.
Chloe lifted her brow in surprise, but Harleen didn't notice.
"He's exactly the kind of thing I was talking about when you asked about the Bat," Harleen continued, her voice growing cold. "Totally victimized by that thuggish brute. You should have seen him when he first came in. Beaten to a bloody pulp. And by a legal law-enforcer? Oh no. By a rogue vigilante in a cape." She shook her head, evidently disgusted.
Chloe wasn't sure what to say. She'd heard the stories about the Joker, and she'd done her research. It didn't seem possibly to her that a few bruises and gashes came even close to what that man deserved. Being locked up in here was too good for him. She hesitated. "Right...well...I just wanted to mention this will be my last week here, and I wanted to thank you again for your generosity. You've been so hospitable, and you've done so much for me."
Harleen smiled, rising from the chair again. "Of course," she reached across the desk to shake Chloe's hand. "You've been a pleasure. You must send me a copy of your book when it's completed."
Chloe smiled as well, returning the handshake. "Absolutely. Here's hoping I can get it published," she sighed wistfully, then adding, "But if I do, you'll be the first to receive a copy."
"You're too kind. Be sure to stop by and see me at least once more before you leave for good."
"I will," Chloe grinned. The woman's wide, ear-to-ear smile was infectious.
When she got outside, she pushed up her umbrella, and was then startled to recognize Bruce Wayne's car at the end of the long drive, Alfred Pennyworth standing impeccably presentable beside the door, holding up an umbrella.
He greeted her pleasantly. "Good afternoon, Miss Chloe. Master Bruce instructed me to attempt to meet you here. He has a business meeting this afternoon, but he was hoping you would join him for lunch at home once it was over."
Chloe beamed, her heart fluttering slightly. "I would love that."
Previous (Chapter 6)
Next (Chapter 8)
P.S. Consider this me doing what I never do: begging for reviews. I need a boost, and I definitely need someone to fuel my writer-side. It's feeling overwhelmed and untalented. :( Okay, pathetic enough for you? Good, guilty people comment. lol ;)
love, Blue