Harleen - part 1

            Harleen was only just becoming accustomed to being a Doctor (Dr. Quinzel, to be precise) when she applied for a position at Gotham City's infamous Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane. The very thought of being someone important seemed surreal to her.
If she were to have been her own patient, Harleen would probably have diagnosed herself with a mild personality disorder, and garden-variety low self-esteem, nothing too debilitating but still present... forever looming over in the dark corners of her mind.
           The way she styled herself now, it was so different to the piggy tails and miniskirts of college, where she had bluffed (and slept) her way through her entire medical course. She scrapped through with a degree of psychiatry out of sheer, dumb luck. Had she been as unattractive as her fellow students, she'd have failed her first semester, gymnastics scholarship or no.
   Somewhere deep down, Harley had known her whole life that she would never be taken seriously, would never truly succeed at anything. She would only ever be 'Harley'; endearing, but painfully average.

           Brooklyn was rough where Harleen had grown up, that's not to say that she ever starved growing up, but her's wasn't exactly the Wayne family. The only thing she'd ever really had a talent for was gymnastics, it was the only thing she'd ever achieved credit for out of merit, and it had afforded her the opportunity to get out, in search of better things.
Her brother, Barry never left home. He was still mooching off their mother, living on her couch. Harleen would have died before that became her, flaccid and useless. Everything she had her body had afforded her, her scholarship... her degree.
           But those days were over now, completely behind her. She was a respectable girl, and she had her crisp, white lab coat to prove it. Nothing could stop her on this road to success. Her plan was simple: use what God had given her to get in close with Arkham's filthiest criminals, get nice and friend-like with them. Be bosom buddies with her patients and tear the juiciest secrets from within their trusting minds.
Harleen could be more dedicated than other psychiatrist; she could crack the secret to curing schizophrenia.

Her mind revelled in the possibilities, she would be limitless.
Then, when she had claimed the respect of the most esteemed minds in medicine, she would write a tell-all novel. A series even. Her life, her success, then finally, the truth about these so called, 'supervillains.'
She would pour every confidential facet of their being into the pages of her biographies and release them once she was too old to care about her reputation, and go out with one final 'bang'.

Now all she had to do was actually get the job ....