The Phoenix Behind The Truth

By: XCatwomanX

Disclaimer: I don't own the BOP actors, writers, or set (since they took it off). But If I did this is what it would be like! ^.^

Warning: This is a hardcore BOP fanfic! With actual facts from the comics and show to combine together and bring peace to between BOP comic lovers and BOP show lovers. Enjoy!

Special Thanks: To my twin sis, Maria for pointing out the obvious. To John Stinizi (I know I'm spelling your last name wrong but you know it's you) for convincing me to take on the character of Bruce Wayne. To Lord Serpentor for role-playing as Bruce (what? You guys think I actually know this guy?). Last but not Least, Peaches willing to look over my work. Thanks A Bunch Huns! And too my fans ^.^!

Summary: Trust is a hard thing to piece back together once it's broken. When one detailed is left out of a truth it is automatically lie, it cannot be toyed with. No matter how hard we try, the past always comes back to haunt us. And when you think you know someone they show you the real them in the strangest ways. How can the birds combat these errors? Run or stick in for the fight? These are the Birds of Prey!

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                                                                        Chapter 7
                                                            Birds That Flock Together

Who can it be now?
Is it the man come to take me away?
Why do they follow me?
It's not the future that I can see,
It's just my fantasy

~~ Men At Work

            Solitude. Sometimes it was best to just be alone and think. Sometimes. Depending on your mental state, loneliness will either make or break you. Luckily for Barbara Gordon, her focus was on a computer. Safely nestled across the multi-tasking box, it always pushed aside her conflicts. For a moment, that is.

            Barbara moved aside her long scarlet hair with a swift of her hand. Oracle took off her glasses, resting the ear frame firmly on her fingertips while rubbing her eyes for a moment. Even for the infamous and anonymous Oracle, there was such thing as too much computer time. She placed the glasses back on her face, resting elbows on the desk, and folding hands before her face. Babs' emerald iris stared vastly into the screen without focus.

            Helena still hasn't spoken to her. Even after rising from what might have been death, resentment never left the younger woman's mind. It was a heart breaking cycle this mentor still hasn't acquired. A distort codependence of ambition and honor. The storms always came before the rainbow was able to glisten. A fight, even over the slightest thing, broke them apart. Yet one conclusion remained… they'd always make up. It should have been a routine I'm-mad-at-you kind of thing. However, one factor made all the difference, Bruce Wayne.

            This fight somewhat revolved around him, and his presence made it difficult to handle. Bruce did fill in the lonely gaps of the tide, but it also felt like big-brother-was-watching. It was difficult; he was difficult. And if Bruce were supposedly staying in New Gotham permanently, how would it change the family?

            Change, she thought. It wasn't always good. Barbara Gordon strived grueling to mold this team, this family together. Would it break over one man? Not just the man; the Batman, the mentor, the father, and the legend. Was Bruce here to claim the city like his company? Or was he here to recreate something she thought was revolutionized… Helena Kyle? The concept of her apprentice favoring another mentor made it difficult.  Seemed like everyone else was through Huntress' walls except herself.

            Reese, she consummated. He was going out on a date with Helena tonight. Babs' knew she shouldn't have over heard their conversation this morning but it was irresistible. Breaking the big-sister habit was also difficult. If Helena lets Reese inchange. It didn't feel right. Barbara wanted to be there to consult the younger woman at this point. No, she needed to be at her side!

            So many conflicts engulfed her emotions; it brought out something humane in the dignified woman, a tear.

            Yes, the Oracle cries! The very same woman who lent a shoulder for people in need but never has one offered! She cried in her psyche. Damn them all for seeing me like that! Barbara sobbed harder realizing her traits. At this point Oracle would invite a bullet to any part of her body than to feel this agony. The torture of solitude. So no, thinking wasn't best at this point; it broke her.

            Barbara was crumbling. She wept so hard her body thumped in place, close to hyperventilating. Her tears came down like falls submerging her glasses in searing liquid. The red-haired took them off carelessly dropping them on the desk, and wiped her eyes. It didn't help as noise and fluid spewed like a bird. She leaned closer the cold desk grasping the keyboard while forming faint words and mumbles until they morphed into a name.

            "Wade!" Barbara called out the name of her late boyfriend. She'd never mention his name since his death. Two months from the time when the battle between the Joker, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy; Wade was caught in the crossfire of the war. Captured by the threesome, Harley took it upon herself in killing her love. Just before letting him in her secret life as a crime fighting information hacker, he was gone. The taught of something Batman always emphasized played in her mind, the fewer the better.

            Without warning, an arm wrapped around from behind, embedding her to the wheelchair and embrace. The touch scared her for a quick moment but neutralized all emotions as only whimpers progressed. She didn't have to look down at the limbs; those powerful arms held her like that before.

            "Shh," he commanded softly in her ear. "It's alright."

            Barbara placed her hands on his arms returning the gesture. "Wade," she softly spoke between breaths coherent to his.

            Wade broke the contact and came in front of her to get better visual. His face still looked the same. His light brown hair was combed back professionally, and his eyes of its soft coffee hew. Her boyfriend wore a light blue blouse and light kaki pants. The brunette had lean facial structure and a very masculine body. Everything was still intact. The brunette's facial expression was filled with concern as Wade wiped Babs' tears away.

            Barbara looked into his eyes as she pouted.

            "There you go, faucets closed. Leaks anywhere else?" Wade smiled tenderly.

            The red haired woman shook her head gradually, afraid of breaking down again if she spoke.

            "That's why they call me the handy man. I can fix most anything," he declared in a playful manner causing a smile to form on his girlfriend. He sighed, "You're too cute to be crying. I just don't know who would ever want to make this face, this body, this soul in pain. Has to be a sick sadistic bastard of course. Other than that, I just don't see it."

            Barbara felt better just hearing his voice, even if the sadistic bastard her boyfriend was talking about was Helena. Wade always knew what to say to make her feel better and take her mind off things. Barbara placed a hand on his cheek, mobilizing him into her lips. It sent electrical pulses through the body, making it a fact that Wade was really there. The fragile woman didn't care how he was there; all she knew was that it made her happy. She then hugged him strong as if to never let go.

            "I love you Ms. Barbara Gordon," he confessed gently in her ear.

            The red head smiled blissfully before answering, "I love you too-"

            "Even though you killed me," he proceeded apprehensively.

            Barbara rapidly pushed herself back but Wade held on to her elbows, breaking personal boundaries. The brunette grinned sheepishly at red head. Babs held on to his biceps trying to brush him off but his strength surpassed hers. The Oracle panicked.

            Wade callously shook his girlfriend, "What's wrong, toots? See a ghost?"

            Barbara lightly squealed in pain pressing her lips together. Her boyfriend was grabbing her with such force; if he had nails it would have already puncher her skin. Babs didn't look him in the eyes as she punched his biceps.

            Wade just wouldn't let her go. He shook her once more, "Look at me, Ms. Gordon!"

            The red haired woman screamed as Wade tightened the grip. Tears overwhelmed her face and she looked into her boyfriend in the eyes. They looked impassioned while the smile only expanded with more malice. His lips turned redder as his smirk enlarge from ear to ear. She shook her head as the transformation slowly produced. Barbara jolted but he pulled her closer.

            "No! Please Wade…" Barbara begged as a lump in her throat stopped her cries.

            His brown hair morphed into a light green and his face pale. The once masculine body sucked inward creating a scrawny figure, and his clothes morphed to a purple tux. The Joker reimbursed.

            The clown firmly placed a hand on her neck lining his temple and lengthy nose with hers. The pale man came closer to the confined woman; his lips were only a breath away. Barbara tried so hard to pull away from him but his clutches was secure. The last thing she would want was for Joker to kiss her. The same man to blame for her conformities to this chair. All in that single night, all by that single bullet. Astonishingly, the green haired man laughed. The clown's colossal mouth could take a bite of her face if he had the guts. For kicks and giggles, Joker probably would. Barbara closed her eyes as his hot breath rushed outward from his body. She wept harder.

            This can't be happening! Why me? Why again? Barbara begged. Nothing added up anymore. She looked at him as he still laughed with his big trap. I need a plan! The Oracle inside concluded in the midst of the storm. The red head looked at the milieu as she tried hard to pull away. Opposite! Oracle commended and she pushed her head into his mouth.

            The attack made the pale man let go of his grasps and falls to the floor. His lips spewed crimson liquid from his jaws, which blended perfectly with his scarlet lips.

            Barbara didn't pick an excellent time to not have her neuron-transponder on so she had go by her attacks manually. "Delphi! Light off!" Delphi quickly followed orders and the luminosity exited. It was still the middle of the day but some obscurity helped her in this time. After all, he was on her territory. Oracle pressed the buttons on her chair's armrest and wheeled backwards out of the computer center. 

            This was the clocktower level; meaning this room was stationed behind the very face of the clock. It wasn't only the second level; it was like the Oval Office to the White House. Any harm done here would overwhelm the Clocktower. From the massive damage Joker, Ivy, and Harley once induced; another severe blow might be the demise of this lair.

            A profound courage set in. I got out of his grasp on my own. Joker was in her territory now. Barbara wiped away her tears as she examined the clocktower level. The control center, which she just wheeled out of its oval platform, is elevated three feet off the floor. A long the edges of the control center was a lengthy connected desk that had many computer beside one another. Bars kept them from peering out of the platform, as wide flat screen monitors hung from the ceiling.

            She stationed herself behind the first computer. Gadgets and materials encircled the platform. The only thing that could save her was one of the latest inventions; and it was on the other side of the level; locked and secure. The neurotransponder attached to the back of her spinal cord, reconnecting the passageways of the nerves, giving her he ability to walk for a few hours. It wasn't that she didn't accept herself as Oracle, becoming Batgirl was out of the question, but if she wanted to live walking was the key. Pride had nothing to do with it at the moment.

            Barbara's eyes quickly glanced between the gaps of the two computers. The Joker was getting up and her wheelchair wasn't immune to sound. A distraction was in need so she pressed a button on her armchair, ejecting a remote control to the tower. Oracle configured the monitors' screens to turn on as it poured out blazing sounds, a recording, and pictures of her avatar.

            "Halt intruder! You weren't welcome here! Evacuate if you know what's good for you! Halt intruder! You weren't welcome here! Evacuate if you know what's good for you!" It played continuously.

            Oracle moved with her gaze into the control center. Joker was distracted for a moment but then spotted her. Barbara was half way there as the bloodied man came towards her. She swiftly pressed a couple of other buttons on the remote and white florescent lighting shone solemnly over the control center. The pail man closed his eyes from the bothersome light and yelled, "You handicap bitch!"

            She finally made it to her destination and opened a small vault with the device inside. Barbara apprehensively opened a black velvet box. Removing it out of the casing and placing the neurotransponder on her lap while unraveling the straps. The neurotransponder was a bright metallic spine shape adapter with a gleaming blue filter.

            A battle with Joker was never this simple. He was an abortion of wars. Astonishingly, the computer behind her fell on the backrest of the wheelchair. The confined woman flipped backwards colliding her legs with the plat form. Barbara met the floor chest and arms first causing her to bounce a bit before hurting the head. Her arms felt like a guitar string from the collision.

            "Halt intruder! You weren't welcome here! Evacuate if you know what's good for you! Halt intruder! You weren't welcome here! Evacuate if you know what's good for you!" The recording continued.

            Barbara laid adjacent to her broken computer and wheelchair. It took a couple of moments before the world came into view. The remote, luckily, wasn't far from her wilted arm length. She pressed a few buttons to alert her teammates. Nothing happened. Oracle looked to her right and saw the computer Joker pushed on her was the mainframe objective. The lights dimmed and all was silent.

            He was coming; Oracle could feel it. The red head fix her gaze looking for the neurotransponder. Swiftly seeing it view, the handicap woman began dragging herself up to it. Not long after she made her movements, Joker stepped on her leg. With the abrupt stop the clown picked her up by the shirt.

            "Aw, does the poor Batgirl have her wings clipped? Oh no, I'm sorry, you go by Oracle now, don't you?" The pail man taunted laughing maniatically. "Funny how you didn't expect my arrival. Really, it blows my mind how little-miss-know-"

            Barbara gave his jaw a hard right; knowing this was his weak spot, and she feel on the broken computer.

            Joker arranged his mouth gazing down at her, "The old girl has some fight her." He grinned with an obvious pain on his maw, "We'll see when I'm through with you."

            As Oracle's opponent came closer she pressed a button ejecting escarma sticks from the wheelchair's armrest. The clown grabbed the younger woman by the arm, which gave way for the other to strike his neck. The blow temporally jerked the criminal but proceeded with the attack. Joker choked Barbara.

            The red haired woman panicked as air barely circulated. With the ounce of strength that was omitted, Oracle clubbed him. Joker didn't budge as he shook Barbara closing the small gap in her throat. The room stared to fade as she tried hard not wanting to give up. The younger woman flipped the stick to its point and stabbed him. It didn't puncher but did make the clown lose his grip. In frustration, he seized the sticks and thrashed her on the floor. The flooring scrapped her exposed shoulder by the neurotransponder. She grabbed a hold of it as he came forward.

            "I'm going to finish what I've started long ago," he held an escarma stick in the air readying himself.

            It was too late to strap the device on Oracle's back. Gazing at his aim, it was directed towards her heart. Joker was going to kill her. He brought it down full force. With the neurotransponder at hand, she shoved it towards the stick.

            Oracle missed. Hard to believe this outcome, but her calculations were an inch off. Instead, the device came in contact with the clown's heart, straps binding him. Joker went on instant shock as the connection overwhelmed the nerves. The clown cried out, head and hands facing up. He jerked up, the side, and fell to the floor convoluting. Its deep green eyes glared at her with anguish and remorse as his lips still curved upward, smiling. She wanted to un-strap the pail man in pain but was to far from her aid. In one last powerful shake, the body couldn't take anymore and ceased.

            Barbara sat up, holding her hand at heart. She caught her breath for a moment before making any decisions. Oracle glanced at the contrast of the lifeless body in the dark. She was disgusted with the outcome. Blood droplets were all over the clocktower level. Not only was Joker dead, but also Delphi. After eight years of reliability, her lair was finally terminated. What now? She thought. What would she say when her comrades ask her how did all of this happen? "I was blinded when Joker used some sort of illusion and transformed into the love of my life that died two months ago!"

            It was an accident, she stated. No it wasn't! Barbara contemplated. The red head held her head trying to stop the train of thought. She maneuvered herself to the floor and hauled to the ceased clown. Joker's skin tone was green with black spots. It made her want to cast. With all her strength, Oracle flipped over the clown on his front, and undid the straps. Then, flipped him back over and pulled the device away from his heart. Barbara gazed onto the machine that brought life to her legs, and in an unsuspecting turn, cast death on a clown. We don't kill, she reiterated placing the non-chargeable part of the neurotransponder on the corpse torso. Barbara took off her shirt and sat up straight. The red head has lived with many things in her life, could she live with this?

            The killer positioned her legs flat on the floor spread apart, and picked up the device. She placed the chargeable part on the smalls of her back where the spine was. Once all was aligned and strapped, Barbara felt a sharp pain in her legs. The damage from before not only brought life to her legs but pain as well. Barbara held her limbs quickly trying not to spread the pain, but the tension built fiercer by the second. The red head exclaimed as she massaged the ache. It didn't get any better. The feeling expanded with more needle like fires. She tossed her head back hollering. Babs felt bad for Joker at this point. He must have went through Hell with this thing. Tears covered her face as she rattled her legs stimulating them. Barbara Gordon was definitely mortal. The red head pressed hard on the floor and stood up gradually.

            Finally erecting herself, Barbara took a step forward gazing at the eagle shaped elevator. She had made her choice, life. The red head maneuvered herself to Joker's body and picked up the escarma sticks. Then, she walked a few stepped towards the elevator but stopped as she became tired.

            A draft whistled on her torn skin and she hissed.

            A chuckled echoed the clocktower level. Oracle swiftly faced the corpse behind her. It laid freshly one the ground. Barbara narrowed her eyes to keen her ears in the dark.

            A soft snicker came from every direction. She wasn't alone. An aura the size of clocktower filled the space. The red head braced herself with the little strength that was left.

            The laughter grew nearer. "Canaries cry. Ravens rave. But this Owl," another sly cackle proceeded. "Observed to late. The predictor of the night was blind. Its ears deaf. Its instincts, ominous."

            She tried to track the sound but the echo wrapped the room.

            "Tell me Oracle. How does it feel to descend? Knowing he had to emerge six feet under for you to get there?" His voice was deep and words flew swiftly in the level.

            Oracle ignored the tactical emotion builder. "Who are you?"

            "Seems like you three do have something in common besides stupidity."

            Anger filled her broken body. "Who are you?"

            The aura escaped the clocktower level.  For a brief moment she thought he was leaving but an eerier tingled crawled her working spine. Oracle attacked with the escarma sticks behind her but no one was there. It felt as if an extra shadow was tagging behind. She closed her eyes tightening the grip on the weapon and waited for accuracy to settle in. An unsettling presence drifted to the right and she lashed that side. The stick stopped in mid-air. Barbara widened her eyes to get better visual.

            Oracle gasped only taking a mere half step with her barley functional legs. Quickly, the bat figure grabbed her torn shoulder tightly. She screamed with obvious pain. He pushed her to the ground. The flooring pressured the device on her spine causing more pain to circulate her legs.

            The man dressed in a bat suit threw the escarma stick to the other side of the level. She heard a clink when the stick hit the bars. "How does it feel to finally feel something below the waist? You were always the comfortable one, huh? Sitting on your ass while other people did your dirty work. I know you wanted legs. So you brought innocent people into it. To pay for what a psycho did to you," he snorted. "Wow, you're a selfish bitch."

            Barbara couldn't move, every time she tried to maneuver herself the pain increased. Oracle looked up at the Batman. "You don't know me."

            "On the contrary Barbara. You are the only one that doesn't know you. You act like the world is brightly multi-colored when it's about you. But your not fooling anyone. It's black; it's white."

            "What do you want from me?"

            He snorted, "Me, want? Ha! I don't need you. The people that do, you seem to always fall short. You truly are a great example Barbara. What do you think Dinah will say when she finds out you killed your nemesis? You can't save her; she doesn't belong to you anymore. You and Helena flock in such a retarded V. Do you think Dinah will keep up?"

            "Stop it! Shut up! You don't anything about me. You don't know anything about us! You don't know what we are going through!"

            He glared at her, "You can't save them Barbara. You can't save anyone." Batman stood over Oracle and picked her up by the shoulders. "Birds that flock together can deliver, but if they are constantly flocculating how can they fly?"

            Barbara didn't answer; she was defeated.

            He whispered in her ear, "Just give up. You can't do this anymore."

            The imposters voice was a swift command. His directions captivated Barbara and he handed her a gun.

            "You can't live like this anymore. Do yourself a favor."

            Barbara nodded obeying. Her face was pail with no expression and eyes dimmed. She raised the gun to her head.

            "I thought so," he nodded. She pulled the trigger.

            Barbara jolted on her desk. Her eyes quickly glanced the room. All was intact, Delphi was alive and she was alone. Oracle closed here eyes to make sure. Yeah I'm alone, she felt the atmosphere. The read head looked at the monitor. The words 'UNIDENTIFIED' was plastered over the screens. She was trying to find this guy out when all of a sudden fell asleep. The green fonts looked as if they were mocking her as the flashed. Anger filled her stable body. She banged the keyboard and through it on the floor.

            "Who the fuck are you!" Oracle exclaimed. Then she buried her head in hands breathing in deep to control the temper. Her stomach unsettled with the images of Joker's corpse. She wheeled to the bathroom and threw up.

                                                                        ~ ~ *** ~ ~

            First appearances are absolulite. It defines your essence; it concludes your social status. Ironically, you could know someone for so long and when it's time for bondage in a place of importance, looking your best is out of the question. One thing that concurs this theory is clothing. Human skin has many ways of stating its independence from others. Whether it's fingerprints, scars, or even color; it screams 'individuality'! Over that, pieces of fabrics intertwine the status quo. Clothes, obviously, come in many different shapes, sizes, and colors. To Helena Kyle, there is no expression like a fashion statement. In a couple of hours she was going to a place of importance, Shea Pier. The bartender by day never had problems with sexy outfits, but for a place like that, and going with Reese, she was sure to know he was going to wear a tux. Logic of matching garments comes into play. A dress is needed but she doesn't own any.

            Helena slightly sighed at the thought of not owning a dress. She sat in the front passenger seat while Bruce drove them to Clocktower. He had convinced her to come in and talk to Barbara and relay the message instead of sending the information through coms. That way she would apologize to her for the show she put on the other day. They didn't say a word to each other on the drive back. Only silently enjoying each other's company. Sometimes saying nothing was best. They finally made it to their destination and Bruce parked the car. Helena saw him through the corner of her per visual vision as he sat there staring at her.

            It felt a little uncomfortable so she spoke up, "What?"

            "What's wrong?" It wasn't that she was trying to hide her emotions but the fact that he decided to ask felt somewhat out of place. Maybe it was a fatherly instinct.

            "Nothing…" Helena stated slowly not sure whether to explain her predicament. "Afterwards, I'm going shopping. I'll be needing a dress."

            Bruce nodded. "You need any money?"

            "No, it's ok. I think I can manage buying one dress."

            "I can respect not wanting to ask for money. So how about, I buy you the dress we can call it a gift? After all I have missed all your birthdays."

            The dark knights daughter shook her head reluctantly, "It's ok. I can handle it."

            "Do you really hate the idea of taking money from your father that much that you won't accept a gift?" Bruce's words were sharp piercing her soul.

            She knew that their relationship were at its beginning stages and he was just trying to help, but borrowing money was something Helena just doesn't do.  The dark knight's daughter knew it might break his heart, but some habits just die-hard. The brunette sighed then looked at him, "I don't know. I've just always been this way, independent and all. Maybe next time."

            "Helena there is a difference between independence and being stubborn," he pointed out quickly.

            Were we having their first fight? This wasn't even all that important. Why was he attacking me over a simple dress? Helena felt trapped, just how their last encounter ended. It wasn't like some soap opera show where tears and oh-my-God's were said. It was more like a what-now stage. He might be back, but antagonizing her would only bring them back to that painful day. "This is just something I need to do on my own."

            Helena opened the car door and stepped out heading towards the Clocktower. The downtown streets were busy with its traffic jams and attitudes.  She was able to cross the street with ease. Bruce was sure to follow as he stepped out of the car and ran over to his daughter. A car almost hit him on the path, which his daughter didn't seem to pay attention. "Helena, I'm sorry. It's just that… I want to make up for the time I've missed, this is still all new territory for me."

            The younger woman faced him and forced a smile, "I know." She placed her thumbs in her pocket, "Don't take it personal though. There will be plenty of time, right?"

            "Yea there will be plenty of time as long as you don't get yourself killed. I intend to make sure of that." Helena came closer to him as they walked along side each other. "If you and Dinah ever thought training with Barbara was tough well lets just say I'll make it look like a walk in the park."

            The younger woman grinned softly, "I'll take note to that."

            They didn't say anything as they turned into an alley. No one was there except for father and daughter. Even though this was a common place where happy moments are suddenly interrupted by human wrong doings, in this time of the day it was quite peaceful and somewhat beautiful. They stopped by a door that didn't have a doorknob or any means of getting through. Helena opened a small gray metallic box beside the weird entry. It looked like it held a phone within but inside were buttons to get the elevator up and running. She punched in the code and waited for the elevator to come down as she leaned on a wall across from her father.

            "I'm kind of lost for words. I mean what exactly should I say to Babs?"

            "Just speak from the heart I'm sure the words will come," he assured.

            "I know what you mean. It's not like this was the first time this has happened. Yet, I don't know why this one hurts so much more," she confessed.

            "What exactly has happened before between the both of you?"

            The shorthaired vixen crossed her arms as she went down memory lane. "When I was younger she kept me from a lot of things. Things I was too blind to see. Like the people I hanged out with and the way I handled situations. Most of the times I've said some pretty hurtful things, and commented on her ruling my life." She paused for a while gazing onto the wall. "Now I see that she was right all along. It's sometimes hard to believe she has so much patience for me."

            "It's not patience, Helena. She loves you as if you were her own daughter; her only concern is protecting you."

            Helena shifted her gaze on her father's whose words always came like an angle from above, with the sharpest sword and the brightest light. That piece of reality attached a lose thread in Helena soul towards her former guardian. All this time she's been protecting her from her father, just like her mother, Selina Kyle. Why was it that so many people tried to separate them? All for protection, they claimed. The truth was revealed in the past few days; they've been able to handle each other. However, how long would it last since people don't have any faith and have been ultimately jinxing it?

            The elevator opened as she softly nodded and they entered the moveable box.

            "You know what I'll never understand?" Bruce asked and the dark knight's daughter gave him a questioning look. "How Alfred has the patience to handle any of us."

            Burst of laughter filled the confined space as logic of the comment quickly raced their minds.

            "Isn't that the truth?" The younger woman managed to add in between chuckles.

            The bondage between father and daughter escaped the elevator as the bird's wings gradually opened. Both saw the level beckon before them as Barbara passed by wheeling herself from what looked like she came from the bathroom. The red haired woman stopped in her tracks and rotated towards them offering a warm smile.

            "Alright then I think you should get this over with. The sooner you do, the better you'll feel. I think this one you defiantly need to handle on your own," he advised in a whisper to his daughter.

            "My thoughts exactly," Helena added and walked right up to Barbara as Bruce exited the scene. The red haired woman confined in the wheelchair waited apprehensively to hear what the younger woman was going to say. "Here," Helena handed her a letter.

            Oracle unfolded the sheet of paper and glanced through it then looked up at Huntress, waiting for a report.

            "Michael is not our man. This trademark bat has been sending messages to Mr. Thomas so it would be open for trashing," Helena explained quickly.

            A long awkward pause proceeded.

            Barbara gazed upon Helena trying to look into her eyes for comfort but she kept pulling away. The younger woman still wasn't opening up to her guardian and it killed her inside.

            Oracle continued with business, "Well if it's not him then who is it?"

            Helena shrugged, "That's what you need to find out." The darknight' daughter pointed at Barbara as if to have everything figured out. "Run some finger print testing and such. I'm sure you'll come up with something."

            "It's not as easy as running finger prints do you have any other information besides this letter?" Oracle countered.

            "No, that's all I could get out of him in short noticed. That guy is so full of himself I had to beat it out of him, literally."

            "Well I guess this is a start, good work."

            Helena nodded slowly obviously avoiding the main subject, "So…"

            "What?"

            "How you been?"

            "Fine..." Barbara answered slowly nodding. "What's on your mind?"

            "Nothing really…" She crossed her arms, "Just the case and all."

            "You sure?" The older woman milked.

            The brunette bit her lower lip contemplating but still kept her cool on facial features. She knew Barbara looked pass that, "No…"

            "Helena if something is bothering you it's better to say something then just let it eat away at you."

            The shorthaired vixen looked down quickly then at Babs letting her arms fall to her sides. "I'm sorry. I've been really stubborn the past few days. I should have just talked to you civilly. I know you wouldn't have made the decisions you made without a good reason. I know that Bruce told you not to tell me about him." She admitted but quickly added, "I'm sorry on that part."

            "It's alright. We all make mistakes. I should have been honest with you a while ago, maybe it would have made things easier on you."

            "Maybe…With all that said and done, let's bag this guy."

            "Well almost everything is said and done," Barbara's emerald iris deepened in tone.

            The younger woman gave her mentor a puzzled look.

            "You have a date tonight and where your going well lets just say you don't quite have the attire for that kind of place. So if you would please come with me."

            Helena held her hand up in the air and shook her head, "How did you know I have a date?"

            "I have a source."

            The younger woman should have known better. After all, she did leave her coms on when she spoke with Reese. Huntress shrugged and rolled eyes, "I'm sorry Babs but I don't think your attire will cut it either."

            "Can you at least humor me and see what I have in mind?"

            "Whatever, show me what you got," She follows her mentor into Dinah's room.

            A white box sat on the baby blue satin sheets. Barbara picked it up lightly and handed it to her.

            Helena opened the box and pulled out the red spaghetti stringed dress letting the package fall to the floor. As it unraveled, her blue eyes lightened with delight.

            "Do you like it?"

            "Babs…"

            "I got you matching shoes," she interrupted.

            Helena moved the dress out of site to see the red head tightly grasping the armrest with excitement. The dark knight's daughter's eyes narrowed with a bit of disbelief. "It's beautiful…"

            "I'm glad," Barbara commented not looking into her eyes. She took a deep breath. "It's my way of saying lets just forget this whole mess and move on with life."

            Helena forced a smile not wanting tears to spew. She nodded, "Forgotten. But I still have the moral attached."

            "Good. I think Bruce has been out there in suspense long enough, don't you?"

            "Yup. I think I should go talk to him, ok?"

            "Of course he's your father after all," Barbara assured with a smile.

            Helena embraced her mentor tightly then put the gift in the box and headed out the room. She stood by the doorway of the training room where her father was in the middle glancing at the weapons. The dark knight's daughter silently watched him as his back faced her.

            "So how'd that go?" Bruce questioned not even facing her. He had already known her presence.

            "It went well," Helena answered with a bit of disbelief in her tone. "She bought me a dress. Guess she knows me a little too well." Helena walked in adding, "Kinda scary."

            "That's Barbara for you," he faced his daughter.

            "Maybe I should go try it on?" Helena suggested.

            "Go ahead."

            Barbara wheeled in while the shorthaired vixen stepped out. Bruce walked over to his former student as they proceeded down to the clocktower level.

            "It's still a little awkward," he began. "It's new for both. I'm still not sure exactly what I'm doing and I think there is still resentment on her part; not that I blame her. I just have to accept that we have to take this one step at a time."

"It wasn't easy with me either. But one thing is for sure, you gotta love her."

            "Barbara I don't think I've ever properly thanked you for taking Helena in and raising her. You've done a remarkable job with her, you never do cease to amaze me."

            "Thanks Bruce, I learn from the best."

            Helena came out of Dinah's room. The red spaghetti strap dress was a form fitting dress that embellished her curves. The dress stopped between her knees and thighs then opened a crease on both sides. Her bob-hair style drawled her long neck. The straps were thin with tiny gold metallic hearts. The top part of the attire curved at the middle of her bosoms like the middle of a heart. Her red shoes were open strapped. The strings came up to her knees. She held a strapless purse that Oracle designed. Now, Helena didn't need to where on her choker or bat-earrings, all was heard through the beautiful device.

            "Just as I thought, perfect," Barbara commented.

            "Helena you look beautiful…" Her father paused for while before continuing, "You look so much like your mother."

            She looked down at the two. "Barbara, I owe you big time," Helena thanked.

            "It's my pleasure." Barbara assured.

            "One thing though isn't that dress a little on the short side? I mean I think a longer dress would be more appropriate," he considered.

            The dark knight's daughter lowered her head as if a child didn't please their parent. Her blue eyes darkened with disappointment.

            Oracle quickly glared at Bruce. He obviously ruined the moment. "Well I think you look gorgeous. I hope you have a great time."

            Batman cringed his teeth evidently beating himself up. He put his in his pocket. "How are you getting there?"

            Helena shrugged, still looking at the floor.

            "Here," Bruce throws his daughter the keys to his car. "Bring it back in one piece."

            Helena catches it with ease and looks at the keys in her hands for a moment. She then smiles at her father and nods.

                                                                        ~ ~ *** ~ ~

            The white fog floated to the ceiling of the kitchen. The pot boiled for little over two minutes now. Dinah's nose began to get irritated by the scent she was experiencing. The third bird wrinkled her nose releasing some tension and inhaled. It smelt good in here, she thought. Shawn Sanders was actually cooking while the blonde girl sat on the counter. After prepaying the salad and potato salad, he began making the pasta and ground beef. It was kind of nice. The only guy that's ever cooked for her was Alfred, and that was an entirely different situation.       

            "I'll be back," her boyfriend excused himself and headed out the kitchen.

            Dinah got off the table and walked over to the stove. She gazed upon the pot as the bubbles escaped the hot water turning into a gaseous stage.

            Shawn Sanders and Dinah Lance. What has the world gotten into? She questioned shaking her head. How did I get myself into this one? The blonde girl wondered what Babs would say about it. 'I told you so,' how she always stated proudly. It was kind of creepy how Barbara always knew the outcome of each situation. Well they don't call her the Oracle for nothing, Canary's daughter reflected.

            Her train of thought was interrupted when she felt a presence disturbing her aura. Dinah's eyebrows lowered as she examined the atmosphere. A hand grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back. Shawn's lips kissed her exposed neck as he closed the circled he formed around his girlfriend.

            The teenage girl raised her hand to her boyfriend's cheek as his lips applied pressure deepening the sensation. Yeah, this was about power, she concluded. It was always about power when it came to boys, especially with Shawn. A male's ego was something not to be messed with. Look at Reese and Helena. All was a game of chase and power. Both trying to hide and exposed from one another at the same time. She wondered what Helena would think about all of this. Maybe now they had something to relate to.

            Dinah broke the contact turning around and linked her arms the brunette's neck. "The waters' boiling," she teased. Yup, I've defiantly spent too much time around Helena Kyle.

            "Right," he nodded and shifted out to their position. Quickly examining the pot, Shawn went to the counter and opened a pack of pasta submerged it in the water. The senior put a lid over the pot and lowered the flames, "Can't have that too high or else it will explode."

            Dinah went to the candy jar by the corner of the counter and help herself to a lollipop. She took off the wrapping and put the candy in her mouth then sat on the counter.

            "I hope you know I'm slaving over this food here for you.  I'm working up a sweat here," her boyfriend reminded.

            "Well, noting says lovin' like something from the oven," his girlfriend added.

            Shawn immediately raised his eyebrow.

            Dinah smiled insecurely.

            "You are so corny. I don't know why I find it attractive. You're probably the first girl I fell for stupidity."

            She wasn't sure how to take that comment. The teenage girl brushed it off and adjusted herself on the table.

            Her boyfriend licked his lips from having it dried by the heat consuming the room. He walked over to his girlfriend and leaned between her legs giving her a quick kiss. Canary's daughter leaned forward for another moment but he pulled his head back whenever she made a move. Shawn was playing games, of course.

            The blonde girl rolled her eyes and tipped her head to the side looking mischievous. Her boyfriend gave her a little snarl as if to bite her nose. Dinah shoved him off not meeting his gaze innocently, letting herself slide off the table. The senior watched his girlfriend intently as she moved. The third bird headed towards the exit intending him to follow her tail, but Shawn was always ahead.

            With a confident grin plastered on, he beckoned before her and openly kissed her. The senior's strength surpassed his will aligning Dinah's figure with the wall. It wasn't because of pain, and it wasn't because he crossed the line but she grunted. It was brief pleasure gasp between them as they tried to come closer. The blonde girl took the upper hand, but he was reluctant as well. Both forcing themselves over one another. Shawn's powerful hands engraved her neck as if examining with every sensation.

            Dinah's senses heightened. Suddenly, she felt the milieu as one, as if she was the atmosphere. All of the emotions confined in the kid; altered in poly-hewed rhythmic untamed tangles. Her heart thumped rapidly and she could feel his do the same. An unfamiliar force summoned feeling her body swiftly weaken in the abyss of passion. A long whistle covered her thoughts and she wasn't sure if her boyfriend heard it. The third bird was being pulled by surroundings, sound, and touch. The high-pitched screech grew louder in the motions that took place until her body surrendered.

            Without warning the pot behind them produced enough steam sending the waters and lid flying. Dinah opened her eyes viewing the inevitable. Shawn changed his position protecting her from the attack of nature. She felt herself drain without command watching a green bubble surround them for a brief second as the liquid finally settled to the ground. This was uncanny do to the fact that her force was yellow. Was Shawn's influence so captivating it altered her force?

            Dinah looked up meeting her boyfriend's turquoise iris.

            Albeit from the food, Shawn asked her something in a serious tone, "Are you ok?"

            Her vibrate blue eyes dilated in the over-whelming experience, "Yeah."

            "Good," he put a strand behind her ear.

            The kid tried to smile but failed.

            "What happened?"

            She remained silent looking down.

            "Maybe I left the flame too high?" He considered.

            "Maybe.." Her voice trembled.

            Shawn walked to the stove to lower the flame, but it was already low enough. He gave his girlfriend a shocking look.

            Dinah slowly walked over to the corner and began mopping away the moister. Her boyfriend turned off the pot learning his lesson. When the blonde girl's task was completed she stood by the corner, partly away from him, partly away from herself. The senior walked up to the blonde and hugged her tight. She should have found comfort in this but was hard to pull from the memory.

            "Dinah!" Barbara came to comms.

            "Barbara?"

            Shawn quickly pulled back raising his eyebrow at her.

            "I..." Canary's daughter face grew pail. "I just remembered, I needed to call Bar- Ms. Gordon."

            "Oh... The cordless is right out in the livingroom."

            Dinah picked it up and walked over to the bathroom for privacy.

            "What Babs?" She kept her voice low.

            "We need you to go on a mission, stat."

            "But I'm over at Shawn's, and we are... studying..." Dinah whined. "Can't Helena go?"

            "That's an order, Dinah. Helena can't go for personal reasons. Your our last man, we need you."

            Canary's daughter gave up, "Alright. But you owe me."

            "Oracle out."

            She rolled her eyes and walked out of the bathroom where Shawn awaited in the livingroom.

            "Everything ok?"

            "Yeah, I mean no... I've got to go."

            The brunette nodded, "You know, your gonna owe me."

            "I will, promise," she smiled.

            Shawn Sanders grinned back and kissed Dinah Lance.

To Be Continued…