Questions and thoughts

Tim had a strange dream, he dreamed that Stephanie had snuck into his bedroom and gave him a blow job under his sheets. Tim’s eyes shot open as he felt the hand graze over his face. He looked to his left and Cassie was in his bed smiling at him… But he felt a pair of lips kissing his cock. Tim looked under the sheets to see a naked Steph kissing up and down the length of his cock.

“What the…” Tim said…

“Shhh, just enjoy,” Cassie said before kissing Tim.

Under the sheets Steph starts sucking his cock.

*

Chase walked into the Secure area of the asylum with only the ball point pen and the brand-new note book. Something told her to be dressed stern and formal. So, she took a moment to look at herself in the mirrored window of the security both. Starched white linen blouse, black pencil skirt, black knee-high riding boots, blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun, minimal make-up and ruby red lipstick. Chase took a deep breath before heading down further into the secure section of the mental hospital. Waiting at the final gate before entering the maximum-security isolation area was Doctor Astrid Arkham. If Chase thought she was dressed up, Astrid was practically ready for a court marshal. A khaki button-down blouse, black tie, black A skirt, skin tone panty hose, and black knee boots. Her face was stern and formal.

“Doctor Meridian,” Astrid held out her hand.

“Doctor Arkham,” Chase responded shaking the younger doctor’s hand.

“Given the situation, we should be as formal and clinical as possible in front of the patient,” Astrid said, “But here in the hallways we can be less formal Chase.”

“Of course,” Chase said, “Who called for this?”

“The Public Defenders Office,” Astrid said, “As soon as they heard that Quinzel turned herself in, they requested a new intake evaluation without biases.”

“Meaning Astrid?” Chase.

“We are the only doctors that were have not worked with Quinzel either as a coworker, or as a patient,” Astrid stated, “So the Public Defenders Office wants us to do a new intake evaluation. You of course will do the evaluation and I will supervisor.”

“Very well. Do you have her transfer report?” Chase asked.

“She wasn’t transferred,” Astrid, “She was checked in.”

“What?” Chase asked coming to a complete stop.

“I am sure Quinzel will tell you, but if she doesn’t, I will tell you after,” Astrid said, “For now let’s go do this interview.”

Chase and Astrid made their way to the special holding cell.

“ID’s?” the Security Guard asked as the two doctors walked up.

“Here,” Astrid said pulling a card out of the breast of her blouse.

“Here,” Chase pulled the ID from the notebook.

“Alright, you know the rules,” the other guard said, “She is very dangerous.”

“Of course, stay behind the yellow line, do not get to the red line and never touch the hurricane fence,” Chase said.

“Right Doctor,” the first Guard said.

“We will be ready if you need up Doctors,” the second guard.

“Right, open the doors,” Astrid ordered.

The doors opened and the pair of doctors walked in. They stopped well short of the yellow line behind the layers of iron bars, stainless steel hurricane fencing and clear plexiglass boxes that held the former doctor in the cell. Harley sat against the side of the clear box that formed the back wall to her cell and looked up. She had a pitiful, dejected look on her face.

“I am Doctor Astrid Arkham, and this is Doctor Chase Meridian, she will be asking you some questions Doctor Quinzel,” Astrid said calmly.

“You ever see the movie Spies like us?” Harley asked, “Old movie with Chevy Chase and Dan Aykroyd?”

“A long time ago Doctor Quinzel,” Chase said.

“They had a scene with a group of doctors meet each other,” Harley looked at Chase, “Yeah, I can’t even find it that funny anymore.”

Chase opened her note book and started taking notes. Harley was dressed in the orange prisoner uniform pants and the pink and black striped tank top with “Maximum Security Prisoner” printed on the front and back. She wore her hair loose, and while some of it covered her face, it was clear that she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but had been crying recently. Chase wrote down how Harley lost interest half way in the set up for the ‘Doctor, doctor, doctor…’ joke from the movie.

“So Doctor Quinzel,” Chase asked in a clinical tone, “How did you end up in Arkham today? In your own words please.”

“A few nights ago, I started having nightmares,” Harley started, “I started going back and seeing every horrible thing I had done to people, with Mistah J, with Pam, by myself, for Miss Wallah…”

Chase watched Harley as she started tearing up again.

“And I just felt horrible! I realized I was a disgusting shit!” Harley started to cry.

Chase wanted to show empathy to the crying woman, but knew that at this stage and with this patient that she couldn’t.

“Like I told Supes,” Harley said, “I rationalize it as if I am in the movie Pinocchio and I somehow got a conscience. And the little Jiminy Cricket had been kicking my ass.”

“Superman?” Chase asked.

“I’ll get to that,” Harley said, “I have been using that metaphor to try and make sense of what has been happening this week. So yesterday I snuck down to New York city. Something made me want to go see my old home in Brooklyn… Of course, I couldn’t go to the place, my family moved out of there years ago, so I went to a skyscraper with a clock tower I use to look up at.”

“Why did you do that?” Chase asked.

Chase didn’t betray the concern, but a part of her imagined the answer being to jump.

“I use to look up at the clock tower as a kid, always wondered what it looked like from the other end. The Clock Tower looking down at my old place,” Harley recounted, “That is where Supes came in. He thought I was gonna jump, started with the whole ‘suicide isn’t the answer’ speech before I told him I was just looking. Then he was at least nice enough to give me a lift back here and helped check me in last night.”

Chase made notes.

“Did Supes tell you to put me in the Suicide watch box?” Harley asked.

“I didn’t see any statements before I came in to speak with you Doctor Quinzel,” Chase said honestly.

“Right, can I at least get out of the Suicide watch box now?” Harley asked.

“Doctor Quinzel,” Astrid spoke calmly, “I am sure you are well aware of your history at this facility and the reason for Doctor Meridian and myself to conduct this interview.”

“Right, for my own protection…” Harley looked down at her feet.

“So Doctor Quinzel,” Chase asked, “You mentioned growing a conscious. I believe you called it ‘your own Jiminy Cricket’? How is it interacting with you?”

“I am not experiencing any auditory or visual hallucinations,” Harley said, “When I think of something, I get a feeling of regret, guilt, and am sickened over what I have done…”

“An example please?” Chase prodded.

“I remember shooting a guy because at the time I thought Joker would find it funny,” Harley said, “Now that I think about the guy, I have this sinking feeling in my gut, my mind wonders about his family, and I just generally feel disgusted with myself.”

“I have a few more questions…” Chase said turning to Astrid.

*

“What about Harley Quin?” Lois asked as she put her boots on the desk and leaned back in her chair, “She had been on the loose since that break out from Belle Reaves Prison.”

“She is back at Arkham,” Clarks said calmly.

“How do you know that?” Lois arched an eyebrow.

“Because a source of mine said that last night she was picked up by Superman in New York city and returned to Arkham in Gotham.”

Lois glared at him.

“When were you going to tell me this?” Lois said.

“Waiting on confirmation from my sources in Gotham,” Clark said sheepishly.

“Holding back on me?” Lois asked with a lusty undertone, “Naughty boy, someone needs a spanking…”

“What?” Jimmy asked as he walked into the room.

“Grown up couple talk,” Lois snapped at Jimmy, “Something you can look forward to once Kara gets tired of waiting for you to work up the courage to ask her out.”

Jimmy’s pale freckled face turned as red as his coppery hair, that made Lois smile to herself.

“It’s not like that, I mean she is nice and we are friendly with each other, but it’s not like we are friends or anything more…” Jimmy stuttered.

“Sure kid,” Lois teased a little more before focusing on Clark again, “So… Who are you waiting to hear from now?”

“I got a guy who follows the flying foxes and their prey out there,” Clark said giving a sideways glance at Jimmy, “Once I get word back from them, I will let you know everything I have…”

*

Bruce didn’t have any trouble maintaining his flat poker face as he exited the elevator. He heard Selina before he saw her, and he heard the secretary talking with her. He rounded the corner and saw them. Jen was seated behind her desk pawing at the sleave of Selina’s jacket, while Selina was seated on the desk for everyone to see and admire. Selina wore a pink rubber button down blouse with a black leather tie, a black leather mini-skirt, a black leather blazer, pink rubber stockings and black leather ankle boots with six inche heels.

“I swear each one of these open forums for Charitable donations gets weirder and weirder,” Bruce muttered to himself, “What is next for me Jen?”

“Mister Wayne, your Two P M is here, Miss Kyle,” Jen said from behind the desk.

“Come on in,” Bruce didn’t flinch as he walked past the desk to his private office.

Bruce went to his office door, Shelia, his personal secretary got up and opened it for him. Bruce walked in and Selina followed. Shelia closed the door behind them.

“What can I do for you Miss Kyle?” Bruce said rounding his desk and putting his coffee cup down.

“Hakuna Matataha!” Selina said with a slight giggle in her voice.

“If you burst out into song I will leave you tied up to the flag pole of Police Headquarters,” Bruce said with a slight growl.

“Oh relax my adorable little grumpy kitty,” Selina snickered, “It’s a big cat sanctuary out in Montana that needs some funds to keep an encroaching property developlement group from getting right at the sancturary fences. Last few that had that happen were **** to close down and kill their wards because Karens didn’t feel safe.”

“What is the deal?” Bruce asked.

“They have raised a lot of money so far to keep a lot of it clear and green, but need a few million more to buy up the last section to keep it ‘green’ so they can keep the Suburbs from being right at their gate,” Selina said.

“What’s the catch?” Bruce asked.

“One of the major partners is a long-distance rifle range that wants to keep people from being right next to them so they can continue another hundred years of operations,” Selina said as she sat down on Bruce’s desk, “It’s all in the Email I sent you.”

“I don’t like guns,” Bruce glared at Selina.

“I know you don’t sweaty,” Selina said, “But if they are helping to keep the real estate goons from turning the grass lands into condos and crossroads, then that makes them the good guys, right? Especially since they want to do this all legally.”

Bruce didn’t take his eyes off Selina as he reached for the mouse and keyboard and brought up the emails.

“No, your other Email,” Selina flashed a naughty grin.

Bruce pulled the special phone from his coat pocket and looked at the attached file.

“Besides,” Selina laid on her back across his desk in a seductive pose, “Don’t you have at least one Safari happy old coot in the family tree you can ‘make amends for’ by donating?”

“Who are these other partners?” Bruce asked.

“Oh a Five-oh-one formed by a group of native tribes trying to buy up wild lands for ‘no hunting zones’ so the buffalo and what not can start roaming the west again,” Selina said rolling over she looked Bruce in the eyes.

Bruce didn’t flinch or take his eyes off of Selina as he hit a button on the screen of his phone and put it to his ear.

“Alfred, Operation thirty-thirty is a go,” Bruce said flatly, “Make the gift in the names of ‘the Late Elwood Wayne,’ and ‘Marguerite Tone.’ Yes, her as well. Any word on the other situation? Very well, pass it on to the reporters.”

“Aww, you remembered,” Selina was grinning like the Cheshire cat, “That was a fun vacation in Venice Brucie…”

“That was a crime spree that was distracting me from dealing with the Kobra Cult threat,” Bruce hung up the phone.

“You know, something like this would normally make a girl’s panties hit the floor,” Selina cooed as she crawled closer to whisper in his ears, “Except I’m not wearing any…”

*

Chase sat in the doctor’s lounge with the tablet reading over the replies from the Gotham Public Defender’s office, the Gotham Coast County Prosecutor’s office and the Federal Prosecutor’s office. Everyone had valid points. Harley had never been tried for her crimes, her trials had been differed on the grounds that the courts found her unable to stand trial because she had gone insane. The courts had ordered that she be held for treatment until she could stand trial at Arkham. Her transfers and documented escapes from Belle Reaves Prison stood out in her records. In and by it’s self was highly unusual and very suspect. But now they had establish if Quinzel was sane enough to stand trial. And the DA’s offices for the state and the Feds had made it clear that they intended to charge Harley with everything they could. The Public Defender tried to argue her crimes were due to the influence of the Joker and Ivy. But their statements were rebutted by the prosecutors noting that had committed numerous crimes on her own without Joker or Ivy influencing her. Along the way, all of the parties had kept Chase on the email chain since they all requested addendums to Chases report to address sticking points brought up. It was all very transparent to each other because even this would be subject to court examination when it came before a judge at a later date.

“Doctor Meridian,” Wolper said as he walked into the lounge.

Chase looked up at the younger man. He had finished his internship and written a book already. He was clearly fresh out of medical school. He did look somewhat silly with the bad attempt to grew a mustache with his black curly hair forming a short fro of sorts.

“Doctor Wolper,” Chase said, “What interactions have you had with Quinzel?”

“I tried to interview her a few months ago,” Wolper said before stopping and pausing to collect himself, “She called me a substandard hack and then kicked me in the head. Repeatedly.”

“So that would be why you are considered biased?” Chase mused.

“That and I recommend that she have a lobotomy,” Wolper admitted, “I don’t see any other way of preventing her from being an **** danger to everyone around her.”

“That is rather ****,” Chase noted calmly.

“I just don’t see any other course of treatment that allows for her to continue to live that would prevent her from being a danger,” Wolper noted, “The only other option is the **** penalty… but as a doctor…”

“And that is something that as doctors it is very dangerous to consider,” Chase said agreeing.

The thought came back to Chase, it was not a new thought, she had even recorded it in her journal that got stolen. ‘It would be so much better for Harley if everyone just forgot that she went crazy.’ It wasn’t enough that Harley’s insanity was gone, people wanted to kill her for her crimes. Wolper didn’t want to admit it, but Chase could tell that he wanted her to be executed. Some people would argue that it was all the Joker all along… but Chase wasn’t that naïve. Patient J might have been a manipulative bastard, but all the psychological problems were already in Harley even before meeting him. All he did was reach in her head and wind up the psychological demons. Harley was the one who let her hounds, or rather, Hyenas of madness run wild. If in fact that these ‘hyenas’ had been euthanized, was a moot point considering the long list and extremely public nature of her crimes.

“If you don’t mind a change in subjects,” Wolper said from the coffee machine, “Crane has been absolutely giddy about that book you wrote on him. He never misses an opportunity to remind me about it.”

“Probably more to get a rise out of you than anything,” Chase said, “He is a narcissistic psychopath.”

“Yes, that and he has a grudge against me for my book,” Wolper shrugged, “But as you said, he is narcissistic, so I don’t expect him to look out past himself.”

“Yes, very much,” Chase agreed, “Speaking of Narcissistic psychopaths, how has Nigma been doing?”

“Didn’t you hear about the mini-riot he caused?” Wolper asked.

“No, there are so many here…” Chase replied honestly.

“Well it seems that during his last crime spree he got his trigger ladies pregnant,” Wolper said, “So when he found out Thursday, he got a few people to fight so he could steal a computer and post the test results to a bunch of forums that insinuated that he was a homosexual with the notations that he was the proud FATHER and some threats against them if they didn’t leave him out of their twisted fantasies.”

“I am sure Nigma was very verbose and bigoted in his statements,” Chase noted.

“He made Killer Crock blush,” Astrid said as she walked in.

“Well, unless I am needed for something else, it looks like I have some addendums to write and I can do them from home,” Chase said getting up.

“If I hear anything, I will let you know,” Astrid smiled at Chase.

*

Chase smiled as she stepped out of the bedroom. On her way home she had went into a latex store she had been meaning to check out and picked up a few things. She had to admit, she might just be a full latex fetishist, because she was loving the way it felt to wear the high waisted panties and halter top. Chase went to her computer and put a towel over the office chair and sat down to write the additional notes that had been requested when she noticed the stolen journal on the desk.

“What did those hooligans do to my journal?” Chase wondered as she picked up the book and pulled it out of the evidence bag.

Chase started flipping throw the pages and looked for what the former patients had done to it. She noted that the girls had gone over all the book with greasy hands multiple times. Chase also noted that the girls had underlined some passages. Chase noted the themes. The girls tended to highlight passages Chase had written about her fetish fantasies, musings on the establishment of a healthy Matriarchal Society, her concerns over some particular cases Chase had read about, and her desires for a dominant role in a healthy kinky relationship with men and women…

“The girls seemed to have an interest in my musing on Doctor Harleen Quinzel,” Chase noted aloud, “They put all these notes around these passages on my thoughts following Quinzel’s rampage in Center City with Pamela Isley. Hmm, I lamented about how it is sad that even if Quinzel were cured of her insanity, that her crimes would mark her. And that, it would be better if the world just forgot about her crimes… Odd that I had that same thought again today…”

Chase wondered about the scrawled runes and non-Latin letters around of the writing surrounding the passage. She shook her head and turned the page. On the next was another rambling breakdown and deconstruction of an erotic dream she had where she was a rubber dominatrix who captured, enslaved and had sex with Batman. A smile ran across her face and she lowered her hand to the rubber panties and massaged herself.

“Me and Catwoman using Batman as our sex ****…” Chase said, “It seems the girls liked the dream too…”

Chase closed the journal and went shook her head clear. She turned back to her computer started working on her reports.

*

Bruce sat looking at computer terminal in the Batcave. He looked over the police reports. He looked at the phone that rang. Not even making a sound he reached out and touched the accept call icon.

“Bruce,” Clark’s voice came over the phone, “Is it normal for junior side kicks to date each other?”

“Clark if you are worried about the Titans,” Bruce said, “It is normal for them to form attractions when they are at a school like setting…”

“No, I am not worried about the Titans, I mean when your sidekicks are at home,” Clark said.

“You mean like the Robins and Batgirls?” Bruce, “It happens. I am sure some of Oliver’s kids have hooked up from time to time. I guess it is for the best that you only have Connor, Kara and Karen.”

“That’s not entirely true…” Clark said, “Jimmy…”

“What Jimmy and Conner?” Dick asked as he walked up.

“What?” Clark snapped, “No! Jimmy and Karen…”

“I think the phone signal broke up,” Bruce said, “Please repeat that.”

“Yeah, I am sure that I didn’t hear that corrected,” Dick added.

“I just found Karen and Jimmy having sex,” Clark said.

“Well, he seemed like a nice kid, did he get any pictures before she crushed him?” Dick asked.

Bruce looked at Dick and rolled his eyes.

“Look,” Bruce said, “Is Jimmy dead or not?”

“No, he is still alive…” Clark said over are phone.

“Then, you are going to have an interesting time at the next family dinner,” Bruce said, “We have an emergency popping up.”

*

“Come on sweetie,” Steph said holding Tim’s left arm.

“One shop,” Cassie said holding Tim’s right arm.

“Then dinner and get ready for the night,” Steph said.

Tim didn’t get a chance to say anything as the two dragged him to the door with the blackened windows and gold lettering, “Freaks of Gotham; Fine made to order Latex Fetish Wear”.