A big thank you to all my readers who have been waiting so patiently for me to update! Sorry for the longer-than-usual wait, my Dad took away the computer so I couldn't use it to type out this chapter.

Eccentric Charm

Chapter 3: Safety

Vic had done it again.

He'd missed another date with her in favour of his work. But somehow, Helena didn't think he missed much in the way of dates. After all, Q didn't really strike her as the romantic type. Not that she cared. Considering how she had laced her threats with undertones of violence should he not turn up at her place to take her out, in full detective regalia and all, she guessed he had stumbled upon another breakthrough that his brilliant mind was trying to work through, with no thought of sleep, food or drink. Nor her.

Sometimes she wondered why she even put up with him.

Someday she hoped they could reach the point where he would remember a dinner date with her even in the mess of his cluttered mind.

She sat back on the couch and looked at the clock. It was four hours past six, the time he was supposed to come and fetch her. And still no sign of him. Turned off his cell phone too, by the looks of it. She had already wasted enough breath and call trying to get through to him. She looked at the clock again, and decided to be magnanimous and give him one last chance. Turning on the television, she was just in time for a late-night-movie. To think that she had put her duties with Gotham second to this date! She could be out patrolling the streets, bringing down hotshot gang members who thought they could terrorize the shit out of the people. Or working to bring down the Gotham mafia. Of having a joyride on her motorbike. But no, she just had to be stuck at home waiting for her faceless boyfriend to come and pick her up for their date, who was, by the way, going to be five hours late now.

She looked at the TV screen in time to see the hero of the movie kiss the love of his life. Looking at that, she was suddenly reminded of all that she was missing.

"Enough is enough." She muttered, grabbing the keys to his place, which were only obtained after much persuasion including the use of her crossbow and…other choice tools, and a long lecture on the perils of letting her have that key, that she could lose it, have it stolen, worst enemies come bursting in an ambush him for his work, etc.etc.

She let herself into his place to the sound of his fingers tapping the keys in a steady cadence that would lull her to sleep on the nights that he didn't join her straight away, working instead. She took in the sight that was purely him; shirtless with a pair of sweatpants on, and his face still obscured by that inscrutable mask.

Sometimes she hated that mask.

It was typical of Vic, she tried to tell herself over and over again, that he would try to squeeze in a little bit more work and then get lost in it all over again that she had to be his anchor, she had to be the one to rescue him from himself over and over again. That night wouldn't be the last, but hey, it wasn't the first either. She took a moment to study him. She understood his obligations, to the League, to the world at large, and to her. She knew that she had encroached on so many aspects of his life already and she knew it was hard for him to let her into his life, shy at the cluttered mess that it was yet projecting only a keen veneer of professional madness. Then she had come into his life and cleared it up, straightened everything that was askew, making cracks in the mystery behind the methodical madness that he was so well known for. But she didn't gloat about it. She kept it all to herself, reveling in the softness of her discovery, knowing that she had been the one who had made him come out of his shell and tell her "I like you."

Everything had changed after that. She respected him, cared for him. But she also couldn't stand being taken for granted.

"Have you ever heard of apophenia?"

She leaned against the doorframe. "Did you have any dinner plans tonight?"

"Well, I was supposed to meet my gorgeous girlfriend Helena tonight for dinner…" he rattled off mindlessly, before he started with a jerk, his fingers frozen in realization.

"Don't patronize me," she said darkly.

"Helena I-'' she cut him off.

"You missed another date." She said, advancing on him. "Too busy probing the many mysteries of Cadmus that the oh-so-considerate Batman has asked of you to?"

"Well you know I can't resist a challenge-"

"I know you have work, Vic. And so do I! This is not the first time I have put a dinner date with you over the people of Gotham. I hope you realise that." With that, she stalked over to his bed and prepared to go to sleep.

She hated to admit it, but she was drawn to his place, his presence like a moth to a flame, on the nights that he was actually around. She had loved the place when she had first seen it; not because of its ambience and architecture (which was sorely lacking). But because it was Vic's house, and she felt safe there. she used to reflect on the irony that as the Huntress, people feared her, but as Helena, she was a normal woman again, and like most normal women in a city where the crime rate shot through the roof, she had a reason to be scared.

She used to sleep with her bed to the wall and her back to the room, with a pillow covering half her face. She slept like that ever since she had seen her father killed by crime lord Mandragora. But now she had put him down, and still she was afraid, for she knew that there would always be more, and they would never stop hunting.

She felt him come into the bed with her, felt the creaking of the bed springs as he lay down beside her and started to stroke her back, running in soft circles, soothing her, relaxing her.

"I don't have time for games, Vic." A sigh. She was more tired than angry now.

"I'm sorry Helena." He whispered softly.

"I hope you mean it," she threatened moodily, then smiled. Turning over, she looked at him, still with the face mask on.

"When are you ever going to show me your real face?" she ran her fingers along the mask, putting her palm on the side of it, and she could almost see him lean hungrily into the touch and close his eyes in pleasure.

"When I deem the time is right. You cannot hope to understand the inner workings of a conspiracy theorist like me." He assumed his most debonair, superior look until he remembered she wouldn't be able to see it.

"Oh yeah? Try me." She challenged him.

"Well…"

"Another time!" she growled. He merely smiled, and drawing her into his arms he kissed her soundly.

She studied him with her hands, like she always did when her eyes were closed and her lips were…occupied. She ran her hands across his expansive chest, feeling him solid like she always did. One would think that beneath that mysterious figure, trenchcoat, fedora and all, there would actually be a man, whom she could touch at will and love him like she should.

She had succeeded to draw him away from his work in the end, though at the expense of her date. But if they did have a date, there wouldn't be the excuse to go to his house…

Pushing that all away, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.