TITLE: Chasing Shadows

SERIES: Birds of Prey

AUTHOR: Dreiser

EMAIL: dreiser3@yahoo.com

YAHOO/AOL IM: dreiser3

MY WEBSITE: http://www.dreiser.net/

CONTENT: F/F romance. The stars are Barbara/Helena. Don’t like it, don’t like them, don’t like the series, please don’t bother to read the fic.

SUMMARY: After the supposed death of Carolyn Lance, Helena discovers that she was far more than just another superhero to Barbara.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my belief that comic books are merely soap operas about people in tight outfits. Wait, that’s still a soap opera.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: WB sucks. I’m a steady reader of the Birds of Prey comic and I’m enjoying the TV series quite a bit. I’m saddened I’ll no longer get to stare at Dina Meyer weekly. Once again I repeat that the WB sucks.

 

 

Chasing Shadows

 

By: Dreiser

 

 

It started with a simple enough gesture, a moment of kindness not unexpected from someone of Barbara's nature. Searching through her belongings of old and blowing the dust off a treasured book of memories, one filled with pictures of herself in the days of her glorious youth. When she was lean, muscled, and definitely not paralyzed.

 

Side by side with Carolyn, arm wound firmly around her waist, smiling wide and carefree at the camera and Dick Grayson who stood on the other side of it. Those were the times she longed for when she allowed herself that rare moment of hopeless what if wishing.

 

Especially now that Carolyn was gone again. Yes, Batman was her mentor, but Carolyn… she was so much more. She was the first woman to really take up a role in crime fighting and she was everything Barbara wanted to be. For a very long time she was simply everything that Barbara wanted.

 

Then Oliver came along and Carolyn was swept up by his charms leaving Barbara to watch on helplessly as her dreams were stolen by another. Leaving herself to seek the safe comfort that Dick always provided. But just as quickly as Oliver fought his way into Carolyn's life he was gone and Barbara leapt to pick up the pieces.

 

And for a time, they were happy.

 

Too soon, reality crashed into their safe little world. Carolyn's fear of what Dinah would think of her love affair with Barbara, of her superhero lifestyle, and finally the fear in the end that Hawke would kill her little girl out of revenge. This was the fear that caused Carolyn to leave New Gotham and Barbara along with it.

 

Until now, she never returned, not even when Barbara was shot by the Joker. For a time Barbara thought perhaps she didn't know or that she was too far into hiding with Dinah to be at her side. But when Carolyn appeared at the clock tower, searching for Dinah she knew what it was. Carolyn had told her with blue eyes full of regret and sadness.

 

"I was scared, Barbara," she whispered, falling to her knees and pressing her face into Barbara's lap as elegant fingers wound their way softly into her hair in a soothing effect. "Scared and ashamed. I left you to keep Dinah safe but I couldn't even do that. I gave her away to those monsters and when I heard what the Joker did to you…" With all that she was, Barbara knew she would never forget the look of cold hatred in Carolyn's eyes as she spoke then. "I wanted to kill him, I did, and I almost came back to do just that but I didn't think you'd want me around after what I did." Releasing a choked sob, she looked away and said raggedly, "I should've been there for you. Protected you…"

 

Gentle hands cupped her chin and Barbara turned Carolyn's face until their eyes met. Looking into Carolyn’s fearful gaze, she murmured, "I chose this life for myself. I chose to keep doing the job instead of leaving Gotham with you. It's not your fault."

 

"But I--" Carolyn protested guiltily, rising upwards.

 

"Shh," Barbara said quietly, pressing her fingertips against Carolyn's full lips. A smile curving on her mouth, she continued, "You're here now. That's all that matters to me and I imagine that’s all that matters to Dinah."

 

Then a kiss to try and recreate the old times. A kiss that was hot, wet, and open, their tongues seeking out and entwining, soft sighs and groans as they tried to get as close as possible but it was never quite close enough for them. But this kiss wasn’t like that. No, not at all. Instead it was safe and familiar and Barbara thought she would drown from the sheer overwhelming feeling of contentment it gave her. Despite all this, it just wasn’t a kiss that reflected their passions of old but Barbara hardly cared at this point. She had Carolyn back… she had someone that she could allow her veneer of ever present of control to fall around. Someone comfortable, someone safe, who knew and accepted what little she had to give in the way of relationships and emotions.

 

Now she was gone again and that happiness was faded. All she had was her unshakable vow, her need to protect the city simply because she had to do it. More and more it was being proven she was the last of their kind. Her friends, her lovers, her comrades were all disappearing one by one and she owed it to them to keep on. Even though she was getting so very tired with it all. Tired with the act of living.

 

"Barbara?"

 

Slowly turning to look at Dinah, she wondered for the hundredth time since she found out that Carolyn was dead how she never knew. How she didn't notice they shared the same endless blue eyes, the same shy smile, the same soft tone of voice. Shaking her head and willing herself out of this funk, Barbara smiled at Dinah.

 

"What is it, sweetie?" asked Barbara evenly, moving closer to the teenager who was still flipping through the album. Coming to a stop next to her, she noticed it was a rare photo of Oliver with a beaming Carolyn, who was staring adoringly up at him.

 

"Is this…?" Dinah trailed off, unable to say the words she somehow knew were true.

 

"Your father," said Barbara quietly. "Oliver Queen. Your mother loved him very much. I'm not sure where he is now." Looking carefully at Dinah, she murmured, "We could look for him if you would like."

 

"He's a metahuman?" asked Dinah, staring at the handsome blonde man with a neatly trimmed goatee and rakish smile. Something about him made her want to smile. Maybe that's why her mother had loved him, she realized.

 

"No," Barbara shook her head and gave into the need to grin. "Oliver's just Oliver. He's normal when it comes to his genetics but… well," she ducked her head to look at Dinah, whose eyes were full of curiosity. "I hate to see what he could do as a metahuman."

 

"What happened with him and my Mom? I mean, does he know… about me?" asked Dinah hesitantly, looking at Barbara with wide eyes.

 

"They had a parting of ways," said Barbara slowly, unsure of the best manner to word it. "Oliver was a free spirit and when your mother found out she was pregnant, she wanted a more stable life than what he was prepared to give. They tried for nearly a year to get it to work but one night, one where you were in his care, he came home with you and was beaten, almost half dead after a run in with some of the usual trouble. He had managed to keep you safe and sound somehow, but your mother said she had enough. She wanted him to quit the business with her in order to keep you safe.”

 

“And he didn’t want to,” Dinah finished, figuring the rest out for herself as she looked from Barbara’s sad features to the album. Sighing as she looked at her parents, she said softly, "But didn't she keep fighting crime herself even after she said that?”

 

“At the time she wanted to quit,” replied Barbara, defending her former lover simply from sheer habit. How many times had she heard Dick or Bruce put Carolyn down? Tell her to stay away from her… that she was confused and needy, she’d only be hurt in the end. God, she knew they were right but she still went to her. She had to. “She kept in contact with him as long as she could, Dinah. Your mother never wanted him out of your life.”

 

Dropping her head and pushing the album off of her lap and onto the couch, Dinah murmured, “Thanks for showing me this, Barbara.”

 

“It’s yours now, if you want it,” said Barbara, watching with careful eyes as Dinah walked towards her room. Despite the fact that she had gone through this with Helena, she was worried if she was handling this right. With Carolyn gone and Oliver nowhere in sight, the task of taking care of Dinah now rested squarely on her shoulders. “I mean it.”

 

“Thanks,” Dinah said again in a breath of whisper before going into her room.

 

For several moments, Barbara stared at Dinah's closed bedroom door before she sighed and moved towards the album, quietly picking it up. Eyes falling on it as it opened to a page filled with evidence of their rarest and most joyful days. Pictures of her and Carolyn mock fighting with each other, tumbling on the gym floor in each others arms. If she closed her eyes she could still feel Carolyn’s body pressed against her own, her breath hot and sweet as she claimed her lips in a searing kiss.

 

“I love you,” Carolyn had said in that husky voice of hers and god help her, Barbara had never been happier than when she heard those words.

 

Staring down at the pictures of her former lover and allowing her gaze to linger as her fingertips lightly graced Carolyn’s features, Barbara murmured, “I’ll always love you, Carolyn.” She then closed the album with a sense of weariness and headed towards her own room. “I swear that I’ll take care of Dinah for you. Do what you have to.”

 

And in the far off shadows, distant enough to not be noticed but to still hear everything Barbara and Dinah said due to her metahuman senses, stood Helena with eyes slightly widened from Barbara’s confession. Eyes which soon turned hooded and veiled as her jaw tightened and she pushed off the wall to disappear into the New Gotham night.

 

---

 

Coffee with too much sugar, two pieces of cinnamon raisin bread toasted and covered with creamy not chunky peanut butter, and fresh slices of orange she peeled herself. A favorite breakfast of Barbara’s, one which she ate today while Helena observed from across the room, her expression closed off.

 

That breakfast was just one of seven that Helena knew to be Barbara’s favorite. She could name all of them in a minute if asked. In fact, she could name all of Barbara’s most favorite things. Her favorite music? Jazz. Her favorite color? Yellow. Her favorite place? Outside this damn clock tower looking over the city. Yes, she knew all of Barbara’s favorite things. But that wasn’t all she knew about her.

 

Helena knew that when Barbara was small she wanted to be like her father more than anything. Of course, that was when she wasn’t wishing to be an Olympic gymnast. That’s probably why she got along so well with Dick, since he himself was once a part of her childhood dreams of being in the spotlight and flying high in the sky. She knew that after the accident, when she wasn’t throwing herself into her work and trying her best to stop this cursed city from drowning in its own vice, she would lie in bed and cry for hours every night. Cry as quietly as she could for her lost legs, for her ability to act physically on her convictions, but always cry quietly... as to never disturb Helena.

 

Until recently, Helena thought she knew Barbara better than anyone. After all, that was how it was for her. No one could ever try to claim they knew Helena better than Barbara did. It shocked her realize that as close as she was with her mother, Barbara still knew her better than Selina. Perhaps because Helena didn’t tend to idolize Barbara as she had her mother. She loved Barbara just as much as Selina but she never placed her on that high pedestal. Barbara was far too real for such a thing. Bearing her soul to Helena in the early days and many occasions since then, crying with her and holding her tight.

 

Selina loved Helena endlessly, she knew that. She knew full well she was the most precious thing in the world to her mother. Selina had said and shown it enough that it would be impossible for her not to know that. Still, she had a sort of distance to her. A distance all parents have to some degree, Helena supposed. You can’t tell your children everything about yourself, after all. They are your children, your responsibility, your most loved and precious people, not your friends. There must be some distance in order for you to do what is ultimately best for them.

 

Because of that natural distance Helena was aware that Barbara held secrets to her heart that no one else ever would. Not even her mother, who had loved her better and more fully than anyone in this world. For a time, Helena thought she knew Barbara just as well, that they shared everything.

 

Then she heard those whispered words full of sadness and longing that just refused to stop ringing in her head. “I’ll always love you, Carolyn.”

 

It wasn’t the fact that Barbara had been with a woman that bothered Helena. Nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, it gave her hope that maybe... just maybe she had a chance of making her most desperate dreams a reality. It was the fact that she hadn’t known about Carolyn. She was never mentioned to Helena, never.

 

Helena had heard about the comfort and safety of dating Dick Grayson, she heard about the horrors of her high school boyfriend Jake Nelson, she even heard about the little crush Barbara had at one time on either and both her parents. Not once had she heard a peep about Carolyn Lance. She knew they had worked together and with her father at a time, but Barbara hadn’t ever hinted that she was involved with her.

 

This left Helena to wonder what else she didn’t know about Barbara, the one person she thought she knew above all others. Trusted above all others. It was more than clear how much Barbara loved Carolyn, still loved her in fact. Helena could tell that from the tone of her voice when she spoke last night. It disturbed her that Carolyn could be that important to Barbara and somehow not be a topic of discussion between them.

 

Conversations of the past haunted Helena now, ones where the Black Canary’s name had come up and she could now recognize a sadness in Barbara’s blue gray eyes. It was a sadness that was always accompanied by an overwhelming silence as Barbara would dismiss any of Helena's questions of concern for her at the time. A thousand talks whirled in her mind and she wondered which were honest and which were false.

 

More than anything else, Helena hated deception. Her parents lives were based on this and it tore at her. That’s why she stayed far from even the idea of dating the clearly interested Reese. She could never let him know all of her and she wasn’t about to have a relationship like parents where only half truths were being shown. Either she would have it all or she would have nothing. Just a series of endless one night stands.

 

Barbara sometimes commented on them, saying Helena deserved more, how she wanted more for Helena than that but after a time she stopped. Apparently giving up on influencing the other woman in this arena. Helena herself knew that nothing would make her stop... nothing besides having Barbara.

 

Now it seemed she could have her, that Barbara was able to have more than just a mere crush on a woman, but a relationship with one as well, Helena wondered if Barbara was still what she wanted. After all, she no longer knew her as well as she thought. God. Just thinking this made Helena want to laugh out loud. Of course she still wanted Barbara.

 

Nothing short of death could stop that from happening, Helena realized. Only she wanted to resolve the issue of Carolyn before she even attempted to have Barbara as she desired. Totally and without hesitation. She had to know exactly what they were to each other, exactly what Carolyn was to Barbara. Something in her was drawn to it. And once she did know, then Helena would approach her.

 

Then maybe she would at last be happy.

 

---

 

When Helena was in a bad mood people tended to move heaven and earth to not have to deal with her. She only knew of three people who weren’t bothered one bit by her bad ass persona and would deal with her anyway. The first was Barbara, the second was her annoying shrink Dr. Quinzel, and the third... well, some would think it was her mother but remember, when her mother was alive Helena wasn’t a bad ass.

 

Yet.

 

Anyway, the third person, much to Helena’s chagrin, was Gibson, the owner of No Man’s Land Collectibles, the popular underground metahuman hang out. And it was him and him alone who was torturing her with endless questions about why was she so grumpy and what was going on and would she finally show him her leather bra?

 

With the last question Helena once again questioned her sanity about mentioning her leather under things to a man whose power was to remember everything he saw and heard down to the tiniest of details. Scowling and holding back the urge to punch him, since he was a good source for information, Helena downed her shot of Jack Daniels and gave him her best glare of death.

 

“Gibson,” Helena drawled his name out slowly and purposefully as she bored her steel blue eyes into him. “Do me a favor and shut up.”

 

“Why Huntress,” said Gibson with a gasp, pressing his hand delicately to his chest and batting his absurdly long eyelashes at her, “are you threatening me?” Leaping to his feet and clasping his hands as he bounded about, Gibson exclaimed, “I feel all a flutter. I simply cannot take it, you hunk of sexy leather machismo!”

 

Scowling deeper at the scene Gibson was causing and the laughs that were being spread throughout the club, Helena grabbed him by the collar and jerked him down so they were face to face. Tightening her grip, she felt her eyes burn slightly as she gave into her animalistic instincts, and grinned as he let loose a groan of discomfort. “I’m serious," she whispered in his ear. "So stop your screwing around.”

 

“I would if I wasn’t already lacking a sex life due to you denying me,” Gibson gasped, moving gratefully out of Helena’s hold and rubbing his neck. Frowning at her slightly, he asked, “What’s wrong with you today, Huntress? You’re not your usual sultry self.”

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” grumbled Helena, turning back to the bar and nodding to the bartender to give her another shot of JD. She was quiet for a long moment then taking the refilled shot glass in her hand, she said, “I need your help with some information.”

 

“Okay, shoot,” said Gibson with an easy shrug, sitting himself down next to her. Helena looked at him with some surprise and he smirked. “Hey, I’m not an idiot. I don’t feel like getting myself assaulted twice in a day. Even if it is by a lovely lady.”

 

Snorting at this remark, Helena drank her shot quickly then said, “I need information about the Black Canary and Batgirl. Not the crime fighting shit either... the real low down on them. What the word on the street was when they were operating.”

 

“Can I ask why?” Gibson said with such degree of concern that Helena looked at him with thinly veiled shock before forming a sad smile. At this reaction, Gibson grew even more concerned and nervous. “I mean, don’t go getting me wrong," he began as he waved his hands about, "I’ll ask around and score you the info no matter what...”

 

“It’s personal,” interrupted Helena softly. She didn’t say it unkindly or even in a deep manner to discourage further questions from Gibson. This caused him to regain that look of concern and she released a bark of laughter as she gave him a half smile. “Don’t get so worried,” Helena murmured, slinging an arm around his shoulder and pulling him in close. “It’s me, remember? I don’t do anything crazy. At least,” she laughed softly now and unwinding her arm from him, she rose to her feet, “I don't do anything that I know I won’t survive. Just... try and find the information for me.”

 

Walking away, she entered the elevator that led to the false storefront for No Man’s Land, and as she did, Helena met Gibson’s eyes in a solemn gaze. Watching as she disappeared upwards and out of his life, Gibson sighed mournfully then turned to his new bartender and remarked, “She’s never going to let me see her leather bra.”

 

---

 

"Okay, Helena. I have to say it."

 

Upon hearing these words, Helena turned to face their sometimes annoying speaker and promptly scowled. "What do you want, kid?" she grumbled at Dinah.

 

"Stalk much?" Dinah retorted in reply. Tilting her head to one side, she folded her arms across her chest and looked smug in the classic infuriating manner that only teenagers can manage to produce. "I should be asking you that since all day you've been peeping at us from a distance wearing your 'brooding here' expression."

"I'm not stalking you," said Helena, realizing all too late she had given her ever present sidekick ample ammunition to keep harassing her. Which, of course, Dinah did.

 

"Not stalking me, hmm?" murmured Dinah as she formed a thoroughly intrigued expression, observing the twitching Helena with increased interest. "Does that mean you're stalking someone else in this clock tower? Someone who's name starts with--"

 

"What can I say? Alfred is sexy for a man of his age," interrupted Helena dryly, pushing herself off the far wall and striding away from Dinah, who was already on the move in an attempt to chase after her. Too bad she was nowhere as fast as Helena.

 

Actually, it was too good in Helena's point of view. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her current romantic woes about Barbara with the child of Barbara's former lover who was the cause of said woes in the first place. Ugh. She was already getting a head ache. Was love always this complicated?

 

If it was then it was good that Helena would be damned before she'd be with anyone besides Barbara. Strangely enough, she had decided long ago, precisely at her angsty teenage year of eighteen, that when it came to romantic relationships it was Barbara or nothing. Even then, she had known Barbara was the one she loved and would always love and that opinion had never changed. She had known because it was for Barbara.

 

Everything had been for Barbara back then. Months, god, years of going wild after her mother’s death and finding out the truth about her parents. Her mother’s late night jaunts suddenly made more and more sense to her. The strange knick knacks around their house, the endless cash flow she possessed. A rare arts dealer, yeah right. Why had she fallen for such a lie? Why, why, why, she shouted at herself.

 

Because she was her mother and she loved her, she trusted her. The woman who had kept her like a dirty secret from her father, the great Bruce Wayne, the powerful Batman. He who was admired and feared by countless numbers in the secret circles of the night. She was his lost little girl, hidden away from his all seeing eyes. How didn’t he know? It seemed from the stories that he knew everything... that nothing escaped him.

 

Perhaps he did know and he just didn’t care. That despite the murder of his own parents, he didn’t want such responsibilities to be thrust upon him. They would only complicate the path that he had set for himself. Helena often thought that was why her mother must have kept her secret. She wanted his brilliance, his genes, his power flowing through her blood in way of a child but she didn’t want to sacrifice her control over the situation. The power to raise that child in the manner in which she wanted.

 

Then she was murdered.

 

It seemed impossible, the sly and clever Catwoman dead? But as impossible as the notion was, that was the reality of the matter. Suddenly, Helena found herself wrapped up in the embrace of her mother’s closest friend who in her grief and guilt did what no one else would. She unraveled the web of lies and brought truth into the light.

 

What did that get her? Nothing but rage and resentment but she dealt with that and so much more. The loss of her legs, of her sense of self, everything she once was wiped away in a single moment and for the first time in her life Barbara didn’t know what to do. What her purpose was in the scheme of things or even if she was of use anymore.

 

Still Helena raged at her, ignoring all she was going through, caught up in her teenage rebellion and constant anger at her parents. For bringing her into this world, into such a perverse and twisted situation. She swore she would never do that. It was bad enough she was so weak that she couldn’t leave Barbara, that she sometimes sucked her into her world of darkness because she needed her so much.

 

Helena no longer knew what it was to be without Barbara. It wasn’t like she had some great calling to be a superhero. She didn’t even think it was all that cool, like Dinah did. If anything she thought it was a pointless and ultimately idiotic task. They didn’t get paid, they didn’t get thanks, they didn’t even get sexy groupies. Who cared if the city drowned in its own sin? You make your bed, you lie in it. She certainly did in the early morning.

 

Despite feeling this way almost every second of the day, Helena put on her coat, snapped on her choker, and went out to do the job when Barbara called for her. And why? What possible reason could she have?

 

“Are you leaving?” Barbara called absently to Helena when she reached the freight elevator to the clock tower. “Lets have dinner together tonight. If you show up close to on time I might even make you something with chocolate frosting.”

 

Unwilling to let herself get lost in Barbara’s eyes, as she would if she turned around, Helena kept her back facing the redhead and slowly entered the elevator. “Gourmet junk food ala Gordon, huh? That’s a new one,” replied Helena in teasing tones, while she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to hold back the wave of affection she suddenly felt for Barbara. She loved her... she loved her so damn much. That was why she fought, she did it for Barbara. For her alone she would try to do what Barbara no longer could. “I’ll come home in time to eat all your goodies. I promise I’ll be back.”

 

This was said so softly that Barbara couldn’t help but wonder if she had imagined it. The last time she heard Helena say those words were shortly after she moved into the clock tower, when she was still acting out from her mother’s death. It was too late to pursue the subject though, because now Helena was gone and Dinah was standing at her side, frowning as she put her hands on her jean covered hips.

 

“I don’t know what’s with her lately,” commented Dinah, shaking her head. Releasing a puff of air and blowing her bangs upwards, she walked into the kitchen as she muttered, “Acting so superior when she’s the one stalking and staring at people.”

 

Looking from Dinah to where Helena had exited the tower, Barbara’s blue gray eyes narrowed and a frown tugged at her lips. Something was going on with Helena and for the first time in all of the years Barbara had known her, she didn’t have the slightest clue as to what precisely it was.

 

That concept didn’t settle well with her at all.

 

---

 

Harleen Quinzel loved playing the waiting game. She was truly a believer of the philosophy that good things came to those who waited. That’s why she was waiting and biding her time before she set loose hellfire and brimstone on the weakling populace of New Gotham who had caused her beloved Mr. J to be taken away.

 

It was also why she wore the smallest of smiles while she tapped her flawlessly manicured nails against her high priced chair and waited for Helena to begin talking. As a professional she wasn’t supposed to have favorites out of her patients but she would admit that Helena was one of her them. The woman had a darkness in her that Harleen admired... even desired to some degree. It did so remind her of her muffin, after all. That darkness kept Harleen from twisting and turning Helena as much as she did her usual mediocre patients who were nothing but a temporary cure to her perpetual boredom.

 

The rules of psychiatry said everything she was doing was wrong. That she was there to help them, to soothe them, to be their mommy and daddy and long lost cousin Sammy Jo with the ugly checkered dress. But Harleen was never one to follow the rules. They were such boring things. Always getting in her way and stopping her from having fun and really, what is life without fun? That’s what the Joker had always told her, anyway.

 

“How many people do you know, Doc?”

 

Lazily, she moved her eyes over to Helena who had her head tilted back, staring up at the ceiling as she often tended to do. Per usual, her leather clad legs were dangling over the chair she sat in with her booted feet swinging in the air ever so slightly. Wetting her lips just a tad, Harleen had to admit she did make a delectable sight.

 

“Well, lets see,” Harleen drew the words out as she arched a fine blonde eyebrow. Methodically she ticked off her blood red painted nails as she said, “I know the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker...”

 

“Funny,” snorted Helena, dropping her head and fixing her stare onto Harleen who rewarded the brunette with a quirky smile. “How’d you get them into that tub?”

 

“A rotten potato, of course,” replied Harleen smartly, crossing her legs primly and smoothing out her oh so expensive outfit while Helena observed her. If she knew the brunette then right about now she would admit to being amused by her antics.

 

Chuckling quietly, Helena sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I’d keep staring at you if I was a fish, but I’d probably say I’m more of a cat if anything.”

 

Better a cat than a bat, thought Harleen viciously, a practiced smile already playing on her ruby red lips as she tilted her blonde head inquisitively to one side. “And how many people do you know, Helena?”

 

“None,” replied Helena in dead and empty tones. If anything, it was a complete lack of emotion that Harleen was sensing from her. Something that interested her, she had to admit. The only person she knew who was close to being like that was Mr. J and if this woman held but a small bit of his similar brilliance, she would be useful indeed. “When I say know I mean really know someone, Doc. Not a person you talk to and share coffee with at lunch or even someone that you have sex with. I mean someone that you know all about, every part of them. There’s not one secret between you and it’s fine. You’re at peace with that and with them whenever you’re together.”

 

Studying her nails carefully, Harleen had to give Helena credit. She, more than any of her patients, brought up the most intelligent and discussion worthy topics. Her thoughts drifted to Mr. J at Helena’s words and she murmured, “I knew someone like that once.”

 

Instead of responding, Helena simply looked Harleen’s way, her steel blue eyes dark and questioning in their solemnity. She was always talented at asking things without use of words. Perhaps that was why Harleen liked her so. More than anything, she despised mindless chatter. People talking simply to talk. Helena wasn’t like that, she spoke only when she truly had something to say and Harleen respected that.

 

“He was taken from me,” Harleen said finally, evenly meeting Helena’s gaze. “And I do admit that sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be able to get him back.”

 

Harleen let just a hint of her rage rise to the surface because she knew that the other woman would not only appreciate but acknowledge the strength in the action. Together they formed hinted smiles, eyes glinting with a secret knowledge only they and a few others held. Nothing was more freeing, more powerful, than total loss of emotional control. To lose yourself in a moment of rage or passion, that truly was bliss.

 

“What about you, Helena?” asked Harleen, tilting her head slightly and eyeing her companion with a lazy and lidded gaze. A slow smile played over her red lips and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and peering at her subject. “Do you know someone like that?”

 

“I thought I did,” said Helena, her voice was void of emotion once more. Staring out the window, she was drawn to her feet, as if under some sort of spell as she walked to the glass, pressing her hand up against it and shivering at the cool feel of its touch. The city was so alive in the darkness, full of flickering lights and movement. It would almost be beautiful if she didn’t know the evil that lurked beneath it all. “If I don’t know them but they know me, does it still count?”

 

Studying Helena long and hard, Harleen absently tapped her chin with a manicured nail that gleamed in the lights of her office and wondered what to do. To begin it now? A twist of her mind, a ripping of her soul, to start the final undoing in Helena’s battle of morals? One tug to unravel it all and ruin that single pesky thing which held her back.

 

A shrill beep sounded in the air and glancing at her rolex, Harleen sighed. There just wasn’t enough time in the day. It was a pity, she was looking forward to causing that first chink in Helena’s thin armor of restraint. Ah well, maybe next week. She did have a meeting to keep with the lovely guild of assassins she had just found.

 

“It counts if you want it to,” Harleen answered, smiling hesitantly at Helena when the brunette turned to face her. Eyeing her patient carefully as to know just what buttons to push next time, she said quietly, “The question is: do you want it to count?”

 

The only response she got was a small flicker of emotion in steel blue eyes before they darkened and Helena returned to her silent vigil over the city. Only moving to rest her forehead against the cool glass and gaze down at everything she was supposed to be protecting as she thought of the reason why.

 

---

 

Watching Barbara through the glass of the clock tower, Dinah looked back at the empty and unmoving freight elevator and sighed. Why was Helena such a jerk? I mean, yeah, she was an unbelievably cool and sexy jerk but she was still a jerk, nevertheless.

 

It hadn't taken very long for Dinah to get over her crush on Helena. In fact, all it had taken was a week of actually living with her when the brunette's apartment building underwent some construction. Personally, Dinah didn't know how in the world Barbara had survived with Helena's mood swings and strangely childish personality.

 

What sort of superhero pouts over you eating their box of poptarts and yells at you for borrowing their skirt? Yes, Helena's personality had helped in getting rid of the crush but what had really done it was the fact that she knew Helena's biggest secret. The secret of her loving Barbara, loving her desperately, in fact. Telepathic powers or not, Dinah could see that quite clearly and part of her wondered how Barbara couldn't. How she couldn't know that almost everything the brunette did was because of her.

 

All Barbara wanted, from what Dinah could tell, was for Helena to open up to her. But Helena never would because at the same time, Barbara wouldn't do the same thing for her. So they held back from pushing each other and they held back so much that Dinah thought they might never get together because of this. Which was why she sometimes felt the oddest urge to play matchmaker with her two guardians.

 

Then she remembered what Helena would do to her if she tried any such thing and the impulse quickly faded and she returned to her usual somber observation of them. With another sigh, she walked outside the clock tower, standing next to Barbara whose hair was blowing loose in the wind as she looked over the city with a wistful expression.

 

"I miss it sometimes," said Barbara quietly, pushing a lock of hair out of her face and adjusting her glasses. Laughing now, she shook her head and said wryly, "I miss it more often than that, actually. Running over the rooftops, jumping through the air, doing it just perfectly so for that single moment it seems as if you're flying."

 

"You miss the freedom," Dinah supplied, studying Barbara who started at her words. Smiling at the other woman, Dinah continued, "Something I like about my powers is it helps me have so much empathy for people. It… helps to understand."

 

"To not hate them for everything they do wrong," said Barbara knowingly, thinking back to the few stories Dinah had told of her old life in Opal.

 

The pain that being a teenager is one that never changes from one youth to the next but the degree of it certainly does. And Barbara could only imagine how horrible it must have seemed for Dinah. As she thought of Carolyn, she wondered at the guilt she must have felt upon discovering Dinah's life in that small town. It must have been unbearable.

 

"Yeah, there's that," Dinah admitted with a grimace. Wringing her hands, she looked at the twinkling lights of New Gotham and debated on whether or not to say it. Then she decided to just give into impulse and go for it. She was with Barbara, after all, and there was very little she didn't feel comfortable telling the redhead already. "It also helps me understand why people act they way they do."

 

"Dinah?" asked Barbara slowly, looking up at the girl, her expression concerned. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

 

"I know you care about Helena. Care about her a lot," began Dinah in halting tones, thinking that this probably wasn't such a good idea. "I just… I just want you to know that she cares about you too. More than anybody. I know because I saw it."

 

"You saw it?" echoed Barbara, forming a frown.

 

"I didn't mean to!" Dinah exclaimed, turning around to face Barbara with wide and panicked blue eyes. "When we first met in the alley, I touched her and I saw so much about her, Barbara. The fun times in her childhood with her mother, that time you took her to the zoo when she was ten, her mother's murder and…"

 

Dinah trailed off, blinking back the tears and squeezing her eyes shut. Maybe she should've kept quiet, after all. They would figure things out eventually anyway. She had to think that they would, they truly did love each other so very much.

 

"Dinah?" Barbara whispered her name again, moving closer to the girl, clasping her arm gently and rubbing it in a comforting movement. "What is it?"

 

No matter how many years she dealt with her powers, Dinah knew she would never be able to escape the voices roaring in her mind. Every person whose life flashed before her eyes and into her very being, would remain with her until she died. She remembered all of them, every last one, and she knew that she always would.

 

Katie Jefferies, her best friend when she was eight. When she was five, she wore a pretty yellow dress with a white ribbon in her hair on her birthday. She tried to look like a princess for her daddy but despite this, it was the day he left them, dying of cancer.

 

Mike Lewis, the handsome high school quarterback who picked on her nonstop and at times made her wish she was dead. His father never spoke to him, never looked him in the eye, and he knew the reason was because he looked nothing like his brothers and sisters. It was the same reason his mother never left the house alone anymore.

 

Mrs. West, her homeroom teacher and the most popular member of the staff, someone who made her feel at ease. She wanted out of their small town more than anything but it was a lost dream to her because she had gotten pregnant. So of course she had to get married to her boyfriend and have his child, even though sometimes she had the most horrible sinking suspicion that she didn't really love either of them.

 

Then there was Helena Kyle. Her entire life had been a lie, who her parents were was nothing but smoke and mirrors, and she had never known anyone… not really. But there was one who stood out in her mind, a person she loved and trusted above all others. The person she would do anything for, no matter what was asked of her.

 

Barbara Gordon was Helena Kyle's life as far as she was concerned and looking into worried blue gray eyes in front of her, Dinah wondered if that was healthy. Whether it was or not, it wasn't up to her. They would have to work it out for themselves.

 

"Nothing," said Dinah, pulling away from Barbara and shaking her head. Looking back over the city and losing herself to the mesmerizing blink of lights, she murmured, "I just hope Helena comes back soon, that's all."

 

Studying Dinah's profile for a long moment before deciding that the teenager would tell her when and if the time was right, Barbara replied, "Me too."

 

---

 

As strange as it may sound, sometimes Helena reminded Barbara of a squirrel in the winter with the way she stored and hid away massive amounts of junk food in the clock tower. Currently, Helena was standing on a precariously shaking stool as she scrounged around for something on the top of their highest shelf. Only when the brunette was safely standing on her two feet and she heard the crinkle of a wrapper opening did Barbara feel the need to speak.

 

“Didn’t you want any of my dinner?” asked Barbara, wearing a hint of a smile.

 

Whirling around so fast that she was soon teetering on the stool, Helena grabbed the pantry with her left hand, thus squishing the twinkie she was holding in the process. “You still have some left?” Helena responded, looking altogether sheepish.

 

“For you? Always,” said Barbara, moving towards the refrigerator and pulling out a box of Chinese take out before going to the pantry and producing some chocolate poptarts. “I promised you I’d make something with chocolate frosting, didn’t I?”

 

Hopping down from the stool with an audible thump of her boots, Helena aimlessly licked the twinkie from her hand and peered at Barbara with dark eyes. “Yeah,” she said as she bore her gaze into the redhead, “you did.” They held their eyes for a moment then Helena looked towards the food and said, “Cooked this yourself, huh?”

 

“If I did the boxes would be burnt,” Barbara said with dry humor, spooning some of the Chinese food onto a plate and putting it into the microwave.

 

While she did this, Helena put the poptarts into the toaster and leaned against the counter. She loved watching Barbara, even in her chair she was so graceful in how she moved. When Barbara turned to face her and held out a glass of soda, she took it with a smile and tilted her head as she said, “So what’re you doing up so late? Don’t you have to wake up early to teach unappreciative teenagers?”

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” said Barbara quite honestly, retrieving the food from the microwave as the timer sounded. Heading towards the kitchen table, she found Helena busy munching on a chocolate poptart and giving Barbara an innocent look. “You always had to eat your dessert first ever since you were little. Why is that?”

 

"I don't like waiting to get to the good stuff," Helena answered impishly, her blue eyes sparkling as she grinned at Barbara who rolled her eyes at this. “I rather have it first to make the entire meal eating process go downhill.”

 

“And here I thought you were the type who likes getting rewarded,” remarked Barbara, watching as Helena dove into eating, shoving a huge amount of food into her mouth. “Go slower, Helena,” she chided as amusement unwillingly entered her voice, “at the pace you eat I’m surprised you’ve never choked.”

 

“If I did, you’d save me,” mumbled Helena around a mouthful of food. She grinned at Barbara who sighed and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Aw,” Helena chuckled, looking hurt as she set her fork down, “are you saying that you wouldn’t?”

 

“You know I would do that and a lot more for you,” said Barbara in quiet and serious tones as her blue gray eyes solemnly observed the other woman. She watched Helena for a few more moments, noticing the slight uncomfortable stance in her body language and wondering what was the cause of it. “Helena...”

 

Even though she knew she shouldn’t, that she should make up some excuse and leave the clock tower before this conversation even got started, Helena found herself saying in a soft and unfamiliar voice, “Yeah?”

 

“What’s wrong?” Barbara asked finally, deciding it was simply better to just ask instead of dancing around the issue. Being forthright and honest was always best when it came to Helena anyway. The brunette couldn’t stand deception of any sort from people she trusted. Which put Barbara in the select company of a very small number of individuals. “You’ve been distracted lately and it isn’t like you. Can’t you tell me why?”

 

Steel blue eyes rested on her, calmly meeting her gaze and Barbara felt herself unconsciously shiver from the power it exuded. Despite having known Helena for so long, she sometimes found herself disarmed by the strength the brunette held. It was different than anyone she had ever known.

 

Helena’s stoic nature came from Bruce, she was sure, but as intimidating as Barbara’s mentor often was, his presence was a vast reach away from Helena’s. He was hard and he was flinty, his voice a low gravel of a growl, sending fear into any criminals who heard it but at the same time it was distant... cool and controlled. The urge to give into the darkness that lurked inside him, always restrained underneath the surface.

 

Certainly Helena reminded her of Selina, it was be ridiculous if she didn’t. Mother and daughter shared the same feline sensuality and power of seduction. They oozed of raw and powerful sexuality that attracted men and women alike. Despite that, Selina never held that edge of true danger to her. Catwoman wasn’t a murderer, she was the most skilled thief in the business, calculating to say the least but with her you always knew where you stood. Her values and morals, or lack thereof, never wavered.

 

Then there was Carolyn, who hid her worries and insecurities behind a mask of overconfidence and focus on the job that had to be done. Once she was in superhero mode nothing took her out of it. Nothing except a threat to those she held dear would cause her to abandon the beliefs she kept so close to her heart.

 

All of them reminded Barbara of Helena somehow but she was so very different from them. There was Bruce’s darkness, Selina’s sexuality and ambiguous morals, then in an odd twist of fate, there was Carolyn’s front of unshakable confidence. Perhaps it was because of all these things that even now Barbara found herself lost when it came to what Helena was feeling at times. She was still an enigma, even after so long.

 

"It's nothing," said Helena after a long moment, returning to eating her food. "Therapy is messing with me, I guess." Lifting the fork to her mouth, Helena smirked then said, "My head's just not meant for shrinking."

 

Maybe it really was therapy that was bothering Helena. It was possible, after all. She had been acting different ever since she began going there without the court order making her. Despite that very real possibility something told Barbara that wasn't it. That there was some other problem lurking beneath the surface. One that she should know about but for whatever reason didn't.

 

Sighing softly, Barbara moved her chair past Helena, stopping slightly behind her, and decided to get her sleep for the night and use tomorrow to figure out what was bothering the brunette now. Out of habitual affection, her fingers slipped into the short and thick hair, rubbing Helena's scalp as she felt the other woman relax as she always did.

 

"It isn't nothing," murmured Barbara, her fingers slipping down to massage the tense muscles at the base of Helena's neck. Whatever it was, it had Helena tied up in knots. "I hoped you already knew this but whatever is going on… you can tell me about it. There isn't anything that would make me stop caring about you, Helena."

 

With that, Barbara's fingers disappeared from Helena's skin, leaving in their wake a burning trail of desire as Helena squeezed her eyes shut and felt the fork bending and twisting under the strength of her fist. Only when she was safely alone did she open her eyes and look at the mangled mess the fork in her hand had become and wondered if her heart looked the same way.

 

---

 

"Where is he?" said Helena bluntly as she leaned up against the bar to No Man's Land and gave Gibson a stern look.

 

"How are you, Gibson? I'm fine, what about you? Oh, I'm feeling incredibly rude tonight but that's pretty normal for me. I'd have to agree, Huntress," Gibson stopped having the fake conversation with himself to reward Helena with his best smile. Turning around to pour a shot of Jack Daniels, he handed the glass to Helena. "I think that's what you meant to say to me, isn't it?"

 

Steel blue eyes narrowed and Helena grabbed the shot from Gibson, swallowing it in a smooth movement and slamming the glass onto the bar, making it shake slightly. Moving close so their faces where just millimeters apart, she growled, "No. I meant to say where the hell is he, Gibson? If you don't tell me now you'll be missing internal organs."

 

"I think I liked the first version better," commented Gibson thoughtfully. Sighing as he looked at Helena's deepening scowl, he nodded towards a man sitting on the far side of the room dressed rather shabbily and in desperate need of a shave. "That's the guy. He goes by the name Caesar. I'm afraid he doesn't have a whole lot to say but he's all that I could get. Most of the people who ran with Hawke at that time are either long dead, in prison, or refusing to set foot in Gotham ever again."

 

"How much do I owe you?" asked Helena, levelly meeting Gibson's gaze. When he formed a surprised expression, she released an exasperated groan. "If he was working for Hawke I know that he didn't come here out of the goodness of his heart. How much did you pay him? I'll get you the money back by the end of the night."

 

Looking from Helena to Caesar then back again, Gibson shook his head and said reluctantly, "Ten grand. But there's no rush on it, I trust you, Huntress."

 

"By tonight," Helena repeated with a nod, rising to her feet and grabbing the nearby bottle of whiskey then heading towards the table where Caesar sat. Sitting down in the chair across from the man, Helena smiled and raised up the bottle. "Want a drink?"

 

"Can't hurt," said Caesar, his grizzled face forming a grin as he took the bottle from Helena and took a long drink. Setting it down with a solid thunk, his brown eyes rested on her lazily and he said, "So I hear you wanna know the goods on the Batchick and Miss Tweety." Chuckling softly, he dragged his eyes across the room. "I always wished I was like you people, y'know? I could do so much with any sorta power…" Caesar put his gaze back on Helena who watched him calmly. "Batchick didn't have powers though. I guess she just had a pair on her, that's all. Had to with who she ran with."

 

"You worked for Hawke when Black Canary infiltrated the family?" asked Helena, taking the bottle back and taking a long drink herself. She handed it back to Caesar who raised an eyebrow appreciatively at her display. "Is that where your information is from?"

 

"That and something else," said Caesar. With a sigh, he pulled the bottle towards him, took a drink and began peeling at the label. "Boss Hawke was hurt bad by it all. I guess the jerk figured he was in love with Tweety or something." Snorting at this, Caesar shook his head and said, "I was never high up in the organization but even I could tell she was nothing but trouble and that was before we found out she wore tights. Still, he didn't want to give up on her. Kept saying she'd turn around, that she'd realize she was making a mistake and come back to him." Lifting his gaze as he crinkled the label in his hand, Caesar muttered, "He was damn near obsessed."

 

"He had you follow her," said Helena, her eyes burning into his at this knowledge.

 

Smirking now, Caesar lifted the bottle to her and replied, "You got it. I tailed her, I bugged her place, I even watched her fix her kid dinner. I saw it all and reported it back to the Big Man who was wasting away in the slammer because of her." Taking a drink, he laughed and said, "I'm not good at much but I'm a damn good sneak. It's always been my specialty. That's why I never got far up, they were afraid I'd see too much and rat." Shrugging, he set the bottle down and continued, "But Boss Hawke was willing to pay me real good for following Tweety so I kept my mouth shut and did what he said."

 

"He had you plant the bomb," said Helena, her eyes narrowing as she recalled what Dinah had told her about her mother's reasons for leaving. "Once he found out about her relationship with Batgirl..."

 

"Yeah, he was with that whole if I can't have her, nobody else can deal," Caesar drawled, forming a slow and sardonic smile. "Thing backfired on him though. Miss Tweety found the bomb and skirted outta town. Without her around for him to torture the Boss Man lost his drive. He just gave up on things, said nothing mattered anymore."

 

"And he killed himself," finished Helena, leaning back in her chair. All the pieces fell into place and now she knew… she knew that if it wasn't for the obsession of a madman then Barbara would've been happy. Would be happy and maybe…

 

God, maybe she would be walking.

 

"Funny thing," said Caesar in oddly contemplative tones, peering up at the ceiling as he spoke. "I tracked her for months, y'know? Hard not to get to know a person after all that. I sorta liked the bird… she was spunky and nice. Real nice. Even when she'd fight with the Batchick, I could tell it wasn't for real. She cared about her and the kid, more than my shit parents did for me." Drawing his gaze to Helena, he said, "I'm guess you could say I'm sorta glad she and her kid made it out."

 

"I guess you haven't heard," said Helena as she rose to her feet, looming over Caesar in height as well as presence, "Black Canary is dead. Al Hawke killed her out of revenge."