For Eileen, who puts up with my porn-fueled midnight madness...
She was mad at him, and hedamn well was gonna knowit. Yet again, he'd forgotten their date and worked through the night. At first, she'd forgiven him, letting the newness of their relationship give him passes where others got none. By now, he should have learned, you don't stand up Helena Bertinelli and get away with it.
Thus her plan of action for the night was simple. Go to Hub City. Track down Question. Torture him. Not literally, of course, but in a way she was accustomed. That meant, gasp, the handcuffs. To be particularly evil, since this was the third time this week he'd forgotten about her, both pairs of handcuffs. Last time she'd sought revenge, while she'd been distracted, he'd used a lock pick to get free, and had ruined the revenge in a thoroughly delicious way.
Even as Helena reached for her second pair of handcuffs (did she mention not to ask her how she got police issue handcuffs in the first place?), that exact memory occurred to her. Okay...so maybe she didn't need the second pair of handcuffs...
She was heading for the doorway when she remembered that this was the third time he'd done this to her this week...last week it'd been done twice...so...she did need the second handcuffs...
Helena pulled on her trench coat, not wanting to let anyone in on what she was wearing. It was supposed to be a pleasant surprise for Question...but he hadn't shown up. Nothing was going to be pleasant for him. Not pleasant for Q equals very fun for Helena.
Helena despised the subway, but it was the fastest way to get to Hub City this late at night. Of course, riding the subway at one a.m. wasn't necessarily safe in the first place, but she was a crime fighter, so she was used to scum eyeing her up anyways.
It took an hour and some change, so it was almost three when she finally arrived at Question's house. When she first met him, he'd lived in an apartment, but soon after he'd developed a theory on how recirculated air was being used to force certain chemicals into the human brain that allowed for the government to send radiowaves into...well, you get the picture...
Helena let herself in with the key he'd grudgingly gave her. With it, came an hour long lecture on the importance of not losing it or giving it to anyone. She'd silenced that lecture by jumping him on the kitchen table. She'd never been able to eat breakfast there.
The house was silent, but for an odd tapping sound upstairs. Helena already knew what it was and headed there immediately. As she stepped into library, the sight of Question, hunched over his computer, shirtless but in pajama bottoms, with his red curly hair a mess, made her smile. Then, her purpose of being there was remembered, and that smile became an evil grin.
Helena stalked over so that she was standing behind him, making sure he heard her, though whether he paid any attention was up in the air. Brushing her hand over his hair, she wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled his cheek. It was only when she was this close did she realize he was humming. Britney Spears' "Toxic". Why did she put up with him?
"What are you working on?"
"Superman asked me to examine Luthor's financials."
"Didn't you have plans tonight?"
"I'm supposed to meet Helena at seven. That's hours aw-..." Question jerked his head to the right and looked at the clock. "Damn. Sorry. I forgot the time."
Helena smiled. "It's okay. I have other plans."
Question nodded and turned his attention back to the computer. Helena smiled, and slipped the handcuffs over his wrists, then instantaneously, the other side of them over the arms of the chair. Immediately, he jerked away.
"Helena. I don't have time. Could you..." Question pulled at the handcuffs in a gesture for her to remove them.
"Nope!" Helena said joyously, pulling Question and his chair far enough away from the desk that she could slide into his lap, trench coat and all.
"I said I was sorry," Question said calmly, still not realizing the trouble he was in. His green eyes did slide down her slight hidden body as she sat there, appreciating his girlfriends body, even if he didn't come to dinner at her place, not even for the chance to get into bed with that body.
"Yeah, but you haven't been punished yet."
"And how are you going to punish me?" Q asked, with a touch of trepidation in his voice. He wasn't liking that tone.
Helena could only grin and turn around to push his laptop and papers to the side. Then she hopped up on the desk and let the trench coat slide around her legs, revealing the fishnet stockings underneath. Fishnets drove Question crazy. He always felt the urge to touch and every hole. Just a hint of OCD peaking out, and she knew how to exploit it.
She rubbed one high heeled foot against his slacks and watched as a slight sheen started on his forehead. "I had very special plans in store for tonight."
"I had very important things to plan," Question said as an explanation. His eyes flickered to Helena's red lips before falling to her legs again. She could see him counting with his eyes, and unconsciously his fingers twitched rhythmically, helping him count too.
"More important than me?" Helena asked, pouting.
"Yes."
Her eyes hardened. "Wrong answer." Helena slid off the desk, letting the trench coat fall where it did. When she stood before him, his jaw gaped. She really was trying to drive him mad.
Helena had gone out last week, and with Q in mind, bought a body stocking...a fishnet body stocking. Underneath she wore strategically placed cloths, but mostly it was a lot of holes. A lot of...tantalizing holes...
"You..." (gulp) "...bought that for me?"
"I intended it for you," Helena smiled and sat down slowly, oh so slowly, on his lap. "However, you're so unappreciative of my efforts. Here I was all dressed up, too!" Helena smiled and turned back to the desk, giving Question a peak of her...rear...thong...yeah...
Leaning over (totally necessary), she slipped a CD she'd taken from her trench pocket into the laptop. Immediately some sultry, bass-y blues song came on, with the required husky voiced singer.
Helena turned back to Question, and for a second she hesitated, knowing that her next actions could quite possibly make him cry...oh, well...
Helena hopped back up onto the desk, letting her legs dangle over the side. She smiled at Q.
"Why are you smiling?"
"I find this amusing."
"Helena..."
"Yeah, Vic?"
"Release me. We'll go get some Italian, come here, play a little, and I can get back to work..."
"Don't try to placate me."
"I'm not."
"Last man who tried to placate me got an arrow in the leg."
"Nightwing?"
"Batman."
"Is that why he was limping last week?"
Helena grinned and nodded. "You've been a naughty boy, Vic."
"How naughty?" He asked with a small smile, getting into the game though he had no idea what kind of game he was getting into.
Helena pulled the razor sharp stiletto from the cubby hole of her cleavage and watched as the quick release of the blade startled Q. "Very naughty."
"Now, Helena...let's not be violent..."
"I'm not," Helena explained, before stretching one of her long, long legs to his shoulder. She leaned over, making sure her cleavage, what of it there was, was clearly displayed, and ran the gleaming knife up her leg until it caught on the thick thread of the fishnets. Then, with a jerk, she cut through that hoop. "Oops..."
"You can't just go and cut it like that! It'd be impossibly to count correctly if you were cutting willy nilly!"
"Why should I care about counting how many holes..." another one bites the dust "...are in my outfit? No one is going to be getting close enough..." another cut "...to count them..."
"You're being cruel."
"I'm good at it." Helena moved the knife higher, so that it gleamed amidst the black of her hair, and for a few seconds was hidden as she bowed her head forward and grinned at Q. "I'm having fun."
"I can tell. If I could get loose, I'd be having fun too."
"Ahh, but you can't get loose! I learned from last time!"
"I can get loose...just give me a few minutes..."
Helena leaned back, finally letting him glimpse where the sharp blade rest...between her breasts. With a wrench, she cut several loops at once, almost all the way to her navel. She watched as he took in her quick intake of breathe, the bounce of her breasts, and the creamy tawny of her skin next to the black of the netting. In the dim light of the room, her hair blended in perfectly with the outfit, so that it was almost like she was a reverse leopard lying on his desk.
Suddenly, as a song changed from Bluesy or R and B, she slid from the desk, and straddled him in the chair. With her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her cheek against his, things were almost cozy...if one ignored the shiny silver dagger in her hand.
Helena leaned back and brushed a stray auburn curl from his forehead. "I miss you. You're neglecting me."
"I don't neglect you. I talk to you every night."
"But you don't come see me..."
"I'm busy."
Helena leaned back and pouted. "Too busy for me?"
"You should understand. You're a superhero too."
"You're not a superhero...you're a demented little man..."
"And you're a cruel bitch. We all have our problems."
Helena rubbed her nose against his and sighed. Then she kissed him. Deep, intense, I-wanna-be-in-your-skin kiss. It lingered, and she softly speared her hands into his hair, dropping the weapon in her hand with a thunk only seconds before she accidentally cut him.
For a few minutes they indulged in that, then the sound of Vic's cuffs clinking against his chair brought Helena back to what she was here for. Revenge.
With a growl, Helena ran her hands down the front of Vic's shirt, magically ripping off all the buttons on the way down. She slowly, moved from his mouth to his ear, nipping gently at the sexiest little ears she'd seen in a long time. Then he moaned and it rumbled under her ears as she further nibbled her way south. She loved his voice, his sexy hoarse voice that kept her awake at night and made her do things she'd normally never do...like be nice and shit...
Helena faltered when she encountered his navel, laving at it with her tongue before fully kneeling in front of him. She looked back up at his face, his eyes closed, his head thrown back, his pants tented...
"Wow...look at the time! I have to go!" Helena sing-songed as she jumped up and reached for her trench coat.
Vic stared at her in disbelief. "You can't be serious."
"Quite. I have classes to teach you know," Helena smiled serenely as she pulled on her trench coat. She patted Vic on his cheek motherly, then started to leave before she remembered. "Oh, you prolly need the keys for those bracelets, won't you?"
Vic was still shellshocked...or rather...snowballed...
"Here ya go," Helena whispered as she leaned over Vic, and dropped the keys into his lap. "I'm sure I'll talk to you tomorrow."
She was already at the front door when she heard him scream.
"HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! GET BACK HERE!"
She laughed all the way home.
Not really the smut I intended, but I think it's amusing...