Detective Jesse Reese forced open the door to the warehouse. It creaked
under his touch and swung inwards. He lifted her service pistol up and
began to slowly make his way into the dark room, squinting for light.
The first thing he saw as his eyes readjusted was Harley sitting on the floor, holding Helena's unconscious body in her arms. The brunette's head was rested in her former therapists' lap. Harley was running her long fingers through the girls' tangled mane. Right next to her was a small clear bottle and a red rag. He tried to see what the liquid was but the contained was unlabeled.
When she saw Reese above her she smiled widely. He glanced to her side and saw Helena's necklace and earrings lying smashed on the dusty floor. One of them was still sparking pathetically. The other one was little more than scrap metal now.
"What happened here?" he asked as he stepped closer, his hand still gripping his gun nervously. He felt edgy and ill at ease. Tension danced up his spine.
"She is beautiful isn't she, Detective?" Harley cooed, her eyes still on her unaware prey.
"What happened to her?" Reese demanded, still pointing his gun.
"Easy darling. Everything is okay."
"I heard a scream," Reese insisted. He used one of his hands to wipe sweat away from his brow. He loosened his collar.
"Oh that was our beloved Huntress here," Harley announced. "Apparently it was too much for her." She frowned at him. "Put your gun away, Detective, I don't like it."
Reese obeyed and walked toward her, dropping down into a crouch next to the blonde. "What was too much for her?"
"Oh, her nightmares of course," Harley giggled. She wrinkled her nose deviously. "I had Torch and Neo cover this place with some kind of hallucinatory powder. She supplied everything else. What a lovely beautiful imagination she has." She reached down and pressed a kiss to Helena's lips. "The powder brought everything out but the fears were hers alone. And apparently she couldn't face them. She had so much on her mind that she was ripe for me to get in there and play around. She actually thought that I was Wade." Then she laughed and held up the cloth. "That and I knocked her out." She shrugged. "Terror is a wonderful weapon, don't you agree, Detective?"
"Chloroform?" Reese asked. She nodded. He frowned, confused and uncertain. "I thought..."
"Oh Detective, I'm sure I've warned you not to do that..."
"Right," he admitted, shaking his head in confusion. His mind felt foggy and awkward. He blinked a few times, trying to clear away the cotton.
She seemed to notice his disorientation. She leaned towards him but remained seated with Helena in her lap. She gazed intensely at his crouching form. "You're still with me, right?"
He blinked again and swallowed, mesmerized by the blackness of her swirling eyes. After a few seconds all of the cotton faded mercifully away. "Of course," he murmured. "Still with you."
She clapped. "Good. Then it's time to go. We need to bring Huntress to her new home." She slid Helena off her lap and stood up. Reaching across she hugged him hard and then pressed a kiss to his lips. "You really are a handsome man." Then she turned away from him and looked back at Helena. "I'm so excited," she squealed. "My pet is back." She indicated towards Reese. "Let's go, we have so much work to be done."
He nodded slowly and bent down to pick her up. He lifted her up into his arms and pulled her against his chest. She was fragile but still heavier than he had anticipated due to the leather of her jacket and boots.
Harley waved at him to follow her out the door and he did so without hesitation. She giggled in breathless anticipation.
The game was beginning anew and this time she was certain that she would not lose.
In fact, she was dead certain that she had already won.
* * * He leaned over her and smiled softly. "Would you like some coffee?" He very gently touched her shoulder. She slid her hand over his and squeezed it.
"I think I need it," Barbara Gordon admitted, her eyes still glued to the brightly flashing LCD in front of her. There was an image of a map on the screen and smack in the middle was a faded out marker. Helena's.
"Still not moving," he said more than asked.
"No and I don't know why I think it's going to. Harley had to have removed her comm unit. I don't know how we're going to find her. I don't know how we're going to do it in time..."
"Right now we don't know what the time table is," he insisted. "Do you believe Harley will kill Miss Helena?"
"No," Barbara said. "She went to a lot of trouble to set up this trap." She laughed bitterly. "This trap, which we by the way we just walked right into."
"You didn't know..."
"I did know. I did. The moment she left here, I knew. I should have trusted my instincts." She slammed her hand against the desk. "Dammit."
"It's not that simple," Alfred reminded her. "Sometimes being a hero means walking into a trap."
"Yes," Barbara agreed. "But not with her life. God only knows what that sick psycho has planned for Helena."
"True," Alfred murmured. "But perhaps for now you should get some sleep."
She glanced up at the digital clock and laughed. It was almost three in the morning but she'd barely felt time pass. The last thing she could recall was sending Dinah to bed. The girl was both physically and mentally exhausted and the truth of the matter was, there wasn't a damn thing that Dinah could do to help.
"I'm not going to bed until I have something," Barbara replied just before she lifted her hand to her mouth and stifled a yawn. "So coffee would be nice."
"On its way," he answered, stepping away from her. He watched her for a few moments, his face drawn tight with worry. It was bad enough that Helena's former psychiatrist had gained control of the young woman who went by the codename of Huntress but it was that much more that Barbara thought herself to be implicit in the capture.
If something were to happen to Helena, there would be hell to pay.
And then once that was done, Barbara Gordon would just fall apart.
There'd be nothing left.
"Alfred," Barbara said from in front of him, not even bothering to turn. There was a hint of amusement in her tone.
"Yes?" he asked, blinking twice.
"I'm okay, stop hovering."
"Of course," he chuckled. "I must have picked that up from watching how often you hover over the girls when you're worried."
She snorted loudly. "Wrong way. I picked it up from watching you hover over Helena and I. And before that Dick and I. And Bruce..."
"Point taken," he said with a smile. "I'll get your coffee." He started to move away and then paused and held his footing for a moment. "I would strongly advise that you do take a nap soon. Having you unable to think will do Miss Helena no good at all."
"Alfred..."
"I would strongly advise," he repeated.
She laughed. "I know what strongly advise means. It's right up there with get your ass in bed."
He blinked. "I would never say such words."
"But?"
"They wouldn't be wrong," he admitted with a slight smile. "I'll get your coffee."
"Thanks," she said, shaking her head. She turned back to her LCD and pointed at the faded marker. "Okay, if you started out here, where would be the best place for Harley to have taken you..."
*****
It reached out for her, touching her shoulder with its long bony fingers. She stared back at it and into its black eyes. It opened its mouth as if to speak but only a loud pitiful wail emerged. She tried to tumble back and away but it held her in its deadly grasp. It moved closer as if to kiss her and she screamed.
Her body jerked forward and her eyes ripped open. It was just a nightmare. She could tell that she was drenched in her own sweat. She tried to blink but everything remained dark. After a few seconds she realized that she was wearing dark sunglasses. Confusion settled over her as she fought for her bearings.
She slid to her left and felt something pull against her wrists. She moved her fingers up to check her binds and realized that she was tied to bed. It felt like it was made of metal. She could feet the chill of cold steel beneath her. She yanked hard at her binds but they didn't give any ground at all. She tried lifting her feet and quickly found that she was restrained there as well.
She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. The last thing that she remembered was Wade leaning over her. But that couldn't be, he was dead. It was like an unreal nightmare. She shook her head. Right now that didn't matter. Right now all that mattered was focusing on where she was and how she had gotten there. And who the hell had tied her to a cold as ice bed.
She turned her head slightly and closed her eyes. Not like she could make use of that sense anyways. She inhaled deeply, trying to figure out exactly where she was. She could smell decayed wood and must. That probably meant that she was in a basement somewhere. The air was slightly stale which said that whatever room she was locked in, it had been closed up for a long while.
"Barbara?" she called out, wondering if her comm was still on. Her body felt odd and disconnected so she wasn't quite sure if all of her gear was still attached to her.
Silence greeted her, sending a cold chill all the way up her spine.
"Barbara? Answer me...please..."
She heard a door open a few feet away from her. From the loud creak it made, she guessed that the door was metal reinforced and quite large. That probably meant that they were in some kind of old war bomb shelter or something equivalent to that. She heard footsteps approach her. She strained her head as if to see but then quickly dismissed the idea. It didn't matter anyways; the scent of her captor slid over the staleness of the air and wafted over to her.
There was only one person who smelled like that. Like death and evil. Like lilacs and cloves. Helena clenched her jaw tight, anger making her muscles tense up.
Harley smiled wildly, her eyes dancing mischievously. It was a pleasure to have her former patient at her mercy. The girl excited her in a way few others could. She was wild, obstinate and insanely sexy. Power dripped away from her like water from a faucet. She was the Huntress and used to everyone else being her prey.
Ah but the tables had turned. It was all really a dream come true. She had spent so many days and nights thinking of her revenge, planning it down to the slightest detail. So obsessed had she been with Helena Kyle and Barbara Gordon, that she had probably missed her opportunity for escape on several occasions. But that hardly mattered now because free she was.
"You recognize me, don't you Helena?" Harley cooed as she moved above Helena. She bent down and pressed a hard kiss to the girls' forehead. She ran her fingers across Helena's slightly exposed stomach, laughing when she felt the brunette shudder at the contact. "Now tell me and please be honest, did you sleep well, honey?"
Helena bit her lip but remained silent, muting the angry retort that had jumped into her mind. Now was not the time to play word games with her former shrink. The psychopath had all the power and the scales were hardly balanced.
Harley grinned, exposing white teeth that hid a black soul. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the unique scent of her prey. It was like mandarin soap and New Gotham grime. "You smell so different..."
The brunette licked her lips nervously, a bit of panic rising up through her. The glasses over her eyes left her almost completely at Harley's mercy. Add to that the fact that the blonde made most mental patients look sane and her situation was indeed dire.
Harley smiled, content in the observation that Helena did in fact know whom her captor was. She moved closer to the brunette, effectively invading her personal space.
"How were your nightmares?" Harley asked suddenly. She moved a hand down to Helena's left arm and began to run her fingers across the smooth skin. "I think we solved your anger management problem but I still think you have some residual issues. About your fears mostly."
Helena grit her teeth, refusing to speak.
Harley stepped back away from her former patient and crossed her arms over her chest, wearing a look of disapproval. "Helena," she sang out. "Talk therapy doesn't work without your participation." She shook her head. "Nevermind that, I don't really want to speak to Helena Kyle anyways. I would like to speak to Huntress. I mean she's the strong and impetuous one who lives inside you, right? She's the one pulling all the strings."
Helena swallowed hard, anger building up inside of her. Barbara would have been damn impressed with how hard she was fighting against her natural impulses.
Harley walked towards her, her heels clicking on the cement of the floor. "Tell me, when did Huntress first appear in your life? Does she control you or do you control her? Was she born after your mother was murdered in front of you?" She laughed. "Oh I'm sure the great Barbara Gordon taught you how to control her and how to keep her in check. How droll. But tell me, is she the real you? Is she the primal and violent you? Who is she?"
"She's someone who wants to kick your ass," Helena finally bit off. Well, there had to be some points given. After all she had held out for almost five minutes before finally answering Harley. That was high progress.
Harley clapped her hands. "Good to see you're alive in there. It works so much better if you cooperate."
"Why did you bring me here?" Helena demanded. "What do you want?"
Harley pressed a hand against her chest, as if to feign innocence. "Why, I just wanted us to continue your therapy. I didn't think we were quite done just yet. I mean you had paid for several more sessions. I didn't want to cheat you."
"I think I'll live," Helena snorted.
"No, I insist," Harley replied. She walked around her young prey, surveying the situation. Helena was tied to a large metal bed in the middle of what had once been a bomb shelter for Old Gotham's most important and influential citizens. As such, the room was much larger than normal shelters. In fact the whole underground facility was extreme in size and well cut out for a prison. "We have all of the time in the world so I think it's best that you relax and we work through this slowly."
"Thanks, I'll pass," Helena grunted as she tried to force her binds to release her. After several hard yanks against the metal cuffs, she finally fell still again, grimacing at the pain in her wrists.
Harley grinned. "Huntress, calm down. Do you think that I'm so stupid as to restrain you with common chains? But, back to our point, Helena told me once that the murder of her mother had changed her into someone maybe she wasn't meant to be. Was she talking about you, Huntress?"
"Harley, what the hell do you want?" Helena asked, exhaustion slipping into her muscles. She was in no mood to play games with anyone, especially not her former psychiatrist who had more than a working knowledge of her mind.
"Mmm, funny, that's the same question that Barbara Gordon asked me," Harley mused. She shrugged. "It's very simple really; I want you."
The first thing he saw as his eyes readjusted was Harley sitting on the floor, holding Helena's unconscious body in her arms. The brunette's head was rested in her former therapists' lap. Harley was running her long fingers through the girls' tangled mane. Right next to her was a small clear bottle and a red rag. He tried to see what the liquid was but the contained was unlabeled.
When she saw Reese above her she smiled widely. He glanced to her side and saw Helena's necklace and earrings lying smashed on the dusty floor. One of them was still sparking pathetically. The other one was little more than scrap metal now.
"What happened here?" he asked as he stepped closer, his hand still gripping his gun nervously. He felt edgy and ill at ease. Tension danced up his spine.
"She is beautiful isn't she, Detective?" Harley cooed, her eyes still on her unaware prey.
"What happened to her?" Reese demanded, still pointing his gun.
"Easy darling. Everything is okay."
"I heard a scream," Reese insisted. He used one of his hands to wipe sweat away from his brow. He loosened his collar.
"Oh that was our beloved Huntress here," Harley announced. "Apparently it was too much for her." She frowned at him. "Put your gun away, Detective, I don't like it."
Reese obeyed and walked toward her, dropping down into a crouch next to the blonde. "What was too much for her?"
"Oh, her nightmares of course," Harley giggled. She wrinkled her nose deviously. "I had Torch and Neo cover this place with some kind of hallucinatory powder. She supplied everything else. What a lovely beautiful imagination she has." She reached down and pressed a kiss to Helena's lips. "The powder brought everything out but the fears were hers alone. And apparently she couldn't face them. She had so much on her mind that she was ripe for me to get in there and play around. She actually thought that I was Wade." Then she laughed and held up the cloth. "That and I knocked her out." She shrugged. "Terror is a wonderful weapon, don't you agree, Detective?"
"Chloroform?" Reese asked. She nodded. He frowned, confused and uncertain. "I thought..."
"Oh Detective, I'm sure I've warned you not to do that..."
"Right," he admitted, shaking his head in confusion. His mind felt foggy and awkward. He blinked a few times, trying to clear away the cotton.
She seemed to notice his disorientation. She leaned towards him but remained seated with Helena in her lap. She gazed intensely at his crouching form. "You're still with me, right?"
He blinked again and swallowed, mesmerized by the blackness of her swirling eyes. After a few seconds all of the cotton faded mercifully away. "Of course," he murmured. "Still with you."
She clapped. "Good. Then it's time to go. We need to bring Huntress to her new home." She slid Helena off her lap and stood up. Reaching across she hugged him hard and then pressed a kiss to his lips. "You really are a handsome man." Then she turned away from him and looked back at Helena. "I'm so excited," she squealed. "My pet is back." She indicated towards Reese. "Let's go, we have so much work to be done."
He nodded slowly and bent down to pick her up. He lifted her up into his arms and pulled her against his chest. She was fragile but still heavier than he had anticipated due to the leather of her jacket and boots.
Harley waved at him to follow her out the door and he did so without hesitation. She giggled in breathless anticipation.
The game was beginning anew and this time she was certain that she would not lose.
In fact, she was dead certain that she had already won.
* * * He leaned over her and smiled softly. "Would you like some coffee?" He very gently touched her shoulder. She slid her hand over his and squeezed it.
"I think I need it," Barbara Gordon admitted, her eyes still glued to the brightly flashing LCD in front of her. There was an image of a map on the screen and smack in the middle was a faded out marker. Helena's.
"Still not moving," he said more than asked.
"No and I don't know why I think it's going to. Harley had to have removed her comm unit. I don't know how we're going to find her. I don't know how we're going to do it in time..."
"Right now we don't know what the time table is," he insisted. "Do you believe Harley will kill Miss Helena?"
"No," Barbara said. "She went to a lot of trouble to set up this trap." She laughed bitterly. "This trap, which we by the way we just walked right into."
"You didn't know..."
"I did know. I did. The moment she left here, I knew. I should have trusted my instincts." She slammed her hand against the desk. "Dammit."
"It's not that simple," Alfred reminded her. "Sometimes being a hero means walking into a trap."
"Yes," Barbara agreed. "But not with her life. God only knows what that sick psycho has planned for Helena."
"True," Alfred murmured. "But perhaps for now you should get some sleep."
She glanced up at the digital clock and laughed. It was almost three in the morning but she'd barely felt time pass. The last thing she could recall was sending Dinah to bed. The girl was both physically and mentally exhausted and the truth of the matter was, there wasn't a damn thing that Dinah could do to help.
"I'm not going to bed until I have something," Barbara replied just before she lifted her hand to her mouth and stifled a yawn. "So coffee would be nice."
"On its way," he answered, stepping away from her. He watched her for a few moments, his face drawn tight with worry. It was bad enough that Helena's former psychiatrist had gained control of the young woman who went by the codename of Huntress but it was that much more that Barbara thought herself to be implicit in the capture.
If something were to happen to Helena, there would be hell to pay.
And then once that was done, Barbara Gordon would just fall apart.
There'd be nothing left.
"Alfred," Barbara said from in front of him, not even bothering to turn. There was a hint of amusement in her tone.
"Yes?" he asked, blinking twice.
"I'm okay, stop hovering."
"Of course," he chuckled. "I must have picked that up from watching how often you hover over the girls when you're worried."
She snorted loudly. "Wrong way. I picked it up from watching you hover over Helena and I. And before that Dick and I. And Bruce..."
"Point taken," he said with a smile. "I'll get your coffee." He started to move away and then paused and held his footing for a moment. "I would strongly advise that you do take a nap soon. Having you unable to think will do Miss Helena no good at all."
"Alfred..."
"I would strongly advise," he repeated.
She laughed. "I know what strongly advise means. It's right up there with get your ass in bed."
He blinked. "I would never say such words."
"But?"
"They wouldn't be wrong," he admitted with a slight smile. "I'll get your coffee."
"Thanks," she said, shaking her head. She turned back to her LCD and pointed at the faded marker. "Okay, if you started out here, where would be the best place for Harley to have taken you..."
*****
It reached out for her, touching her shoulder with its long bony fingers. She stared back at it and into its black eyes. It opened its mouth as if to speak but only a loud pitiful wail emerged. She tried to tumble back and away but it held her in its deadly grasp. It moved closer as if to kiss her and she screamed.
Her body jerked forward and her eyes ripped open. It was just a nightmare. She could tell that she was drenched in her own sweat. She tried to blink but everything remained dark. After a few seconds she realized that she was wearing dark sunglasses. Confusion settled over her as she fought for her bearings.
She slid to her left and felt something pull against her wrists. She moved her fingers up to check her binds and realized that she was tied to bed. It felt like it was made of metal. She could feet the chill of cold steel beneath her. She yanked hard at her binds but they didn't give any ground at all. She tried lifting her feet and quickly found that she was restrained there as well.
She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. The last thing that she remembered was Wade leaning over her. But that couldn't be, he was dead. It was like an unreal nightmare. She shook her head. Right now that didn't matter. Right now all that mattered was focusing on where she was and how she had gotten there. And who the hell had tied her to a cold as ice bed.
She turned her head slightly and closed her eyes. Not like she could make use of that sense anyways. She inhaled deeply, trying to figure out exactly where she was. She could smell decayed wood and must. That probably meant that she was in a basement somewhere. The air was slightly stale which said that whatever room she was locked in, it had been closed up for a long while.
"Barbara?" she called out, wondering if her comm was still on. Her body felt odd and disconnected so she wasn't quite sure if all of her gear was still attached to her.
Silence greeted her, sending a cold chill all the way up her spine.
"Barbara? Answer me...please..."
She heard a door open a few feet away from her. From the loud creak it made, she guessed that the door was metal reinforced and quite large. That probably meant that they were in some kind of old war bomb shelter or something equivalent to that. She heard footsteps approach her. She strained her head as if to see but then quickly dismissed the idea. It didn't matter anyways; the scent of her captor slid over the staleness of the air and wafted over to her.
There was only one person who smelled like that. Like death and evil. Like lilacs and cloves. Helena clenched her jaw tight, anger making her muscles tense up.
Harley smiled wildly, her eyes dancing mischievously. It was a pleasure to have her former patient at her mercy. The girl excited her in a way few others could. She was wild, obstinate and insanely sexy. Power dripped away from her like water from a faucet. She was the Huntress and used to everyone else being her prey.
Ah but the tables had turned. It was all really a dream come true. She had spent so many days and nights thinking of her revenge, planning it down to the slightest detail. So obsessed had she been with Helena Kyle and Barbara Gordon, that she had probably missed her opportunity for escape on several occasions. But that hardly mattered now because free she was.
"You recognize me, don't you Helena?" Harley cooed as she moved above Helena. She bent down and pressed a hard kiss to the girls' forehead. She ran her fingers across Helena's slightly exposed stomach, laughing when she felt the brunette shudder at the contact. "Now tell me and please be honest, did you sleep well, honey?"
Helena bit her lip but remained silent, muting the angry retort that had jumped into her mind. Now was not the time to play word games with her former shrink. The psychopath had all the power and the scales were hardly balanced.
Harley grinned, exposing white teeth that hid a black soul. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the unique scent of her prey. It was like mandarin soap and New Gotham grime. "You smell so different..."
The brunette licked her lips nervously, a bit of panic rising up through her. The glasses over her eyes left her almost completely at Harley's mercy. Add to that the fact that the blonde made most mental patients look sane and her situation was indeed dire.
Harley smiled, content in the observation that Helena did in fact know whom her captor was. She moved closer to the brunette, effectively invading her personal space.
"How were your nightmares?" Harley asked suddenly. She moved a hand down to Helena's left arm and began to run her fingers across the smooth skin. "I think we solved your anger management problem but I still think you have some residual issues. About your fears mostly."
Helena grit her teeth, refusing to speak.
Harley stepped back away from her former patient and crossed her arms over her chest, wearing a look of disapproval. "Helena," she sang out. "Talk therapy doesn't work without your participation." She shook her head. "Nevermind that, I don't really want to speak to Helena Kyle anyways. I would like to speak to Huntress. I mean she's the strong and impetuous one who lives inside you, right? She's the one pulling all the strings."
Helena swallowed hard, anger building up inside of her. Barbara would have been damn impressed with how hard she was fighting against her natural impulses.
Harley walked towards her, her heels clicking on the cement of the floor. "Tell me, when did Huntress first appear in your life? Does she control you or do you control her? Was she born after your mother was murdered in front of you?" She laughed. "Oh I'm sure the great Barbara Gordon taught you how to control her and how to keep her in check. How droll. But tell me, is she the real you? Is she the primal and violent you? Who is she?"
"She's someone who wants to kick your ass," Helena finally bit off. Well, there had to be some points given. After all she had held out for almost five minutes before finally answering Harley. That was high progress.
Harley clapped her hands. "Good to see you're alive in there. It works so much better if you cooperate."
"Why did you bring me here?" Helena demanded. "What do you want?"
Harley pressed a hand against her chest, as if to feign innocence. "Why, I just wanted us to continue your therapy. I didn't think we were quite done just yet. I mean you had paid for several more sessions. I didn't want to cheat you."
"I think I'll live," Helena snorted.
"No, I insist," Harley replied. She walked around her young prey, surveying the situation. Helena was tied to a large metal bed in the middle of what had once been a bomb shelter for Old Gotham's most important and influential citizens. As such, the room was much larger than normal shelters. In fact the whole underground facility was extreme in size and well cut out for a prison. "We have all of the time in the world so I think it's best that you relax and we work through this slowly."
"Thanks, I'll pass," Helena grunted as she tried to force her binds to release her. After several hard yanks against the metal cuffs, she finally fell still again, grimacing at the pain in her wrists.
Harley grinned. "Huntress, calm down. Do you think that I'm so stupid as to restrain you with common chains? But, back to our point, Helena told me once that the murder of her mother had changed her into someone maybe she wasn't meant to be. Was she talking about you, Huntress?"
"Harley, what the hell do you want?" Helena asked, exhaustion slipping into her muscles. She was in no mood to play games with anyone, especially not her former psychiatrist who had more than a working knowledge of her mind.
"Mmm, funny, that's the same question that Barbara Gordon asked me," Harley mused. She shrugged. "It's very simple really; I want you."