Helena gave the drinks to the group of men that had ordered them. The place was full of people; it was Friday night. Fridays were always busy days. She couldn't get the image of Batgirl out of her head. Why had she looked for her? Had her father sent her?

It was so weird.

She had been looking for information about her all day, but it seemed she was more myth than reality. She needed check around in the underworld. Maybe she could go to some hidden bars and ask for info. That would be easy. She had some friends that always gave her info. She wanted to be prepared the next time she found her.

"Water, please."

Water? Who the fuck asked for water in a bar? Helena poured a glass of water and turned. She found Barbara Gordon sitting at the bar's counter. She couldn't hide her surprise.

"I'm glad to see you, too," Barbara said, taking the glass in her hands.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

Helena glared at the redhead and rested her hands on the counter, burying her gaze on her. It still hurt that Barbara had abandoned her when she needed her and Helena would never forgive her for that. The, Barbara had tried to get close to her again, but Helena allowed it. She was not going to let anyone hurt her anymore.

She'd had enough of it.

She thought Barbara had quit on her. Since she had moved to her own place, Helena had completely lost contact with the woman. She knew about her from the newspapers. It seemed her father had left Barbara in charge of the Wayne Foundation.

Yeah, he trusted Barbara more than his own daughter.

It had fueled her anger at both of them.

The last time she had been this close to the redhead was the night of her father's birthday, years ago, when she had cornered her against that wall. She had been so tempted to let her walls break down, to open her heart. Luckily, she hadn't done it, but there was not a day that she didn't think about her.

"Well," Helena finally said, "you are looking at me now. Do you see something you like?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure."

"You are not sure. Why not?" Helena crossed her arms over the counter. She observed her. She was wearing a sleeveless blouse with a turtle neck and black pants. She couldn't deny the older woman looked spectacular.

"Depends on you." Barbara sipped her water.

"Why me?"

"Can we talk?" She pointed to a table at the end of the bar.

Helena looked at her with distrust.

"Come on," Barbara stood up. She noticed the girl didn't move from her place and she grinned. "Or are you afraid?"

Helena felt her blood boiling. She didn't like her games. She took a bottle of whiskey, a Perrier bottle, and a glass.

"Be right back, John," she said to her partner at the bar, not moving her eyes off the redhead, who walked to the table at the end of the bar.

The brunette sat at the table and put the bottle of whiskey and her glass on it.

"I don't drink, thanks," Barbara said, leaning back in her chair.

Helena put the Perrier bottle on the table and pushed it toward her. "On the house."

"I see you live on your own now."

"And I'm pretty happy with it." Helena opened the whiskey bottle and filled her glass.

"I hear you rent a small apartment above the bar." Barbara circled her finger around the rim of her glass.

"Perfect for me." Helena sipped a bit of whisky.

"This is not one of the best areas of the city."

"But everything is close and I don't need anything else."

Barbara smiled at her. Helena didn't know what she was thinking or what game she was playing. She stared at the redhead, waiting.

"Do you miss all your old luxuries?" the redhead asked.

"No, I never wanted anything from him."

"Didn't look like that." Barbara sipped water from her glass.

"I just wanted to piss him off."

"Why?"

"None of your business."

"Sweet and gentle as always." The older woman shook her head.

Helena fixed her blue eyes on her, trying to read her face. It seemed she was having fun with her and she didn't like being anyone's toy, especially not Barbara's.

"What do you want, Barbara?" Helena asked, opening the Perrier bottle and filling Barbara's glass.

"Thank you. I want to ask you to visit the Green Orphanage tomorrow."

The brunette blinked. "What?"

You know the Wayne Foundation, right?"

"You know it better than me." Helena finished her scotch whisky. "You are in charge, no?"

"We support that orphanage. I would like you to go tomorrow."

The brunette laughed. "Now, that is funny. Why should I go?"

"I promise that I'll tell you tomorrow." Barbara said.

"Why don't tell you tell me now?"

"You will understand tomorrow."

Helena leaned back in her chair and finished her scotch, her eyes fixed on the redhead. Barbara didn't look away and held her gaze. The young woman observed her, wondering what she was planning. She knew Barbara. She was always methodical and never took a step without thinking.

She had changed, she looked great. Helena had read about her in the newspapers; she was active with the Foundation -- always trying to find more resources. In some way, she'd have to admit that she admired her, especially her courage to move on after the Joker shot her and for her effort to help those kids.

"What if I say no?" Helena suddenly said, bending her leg over the chair and resting her arm on her knee.

"Then you never will know why I asked you to go," Barbara said in a calm voice, drinking her water. "I never ask anything of you. So, if I'm here, it must be for something really important."

The brunette stared at her. What kind of game was she playing? She was not going to be part of this mess. She was not going to let Barbara involve her in anything.

"The foundation helps innocents. It's not business," Barbara explained as she wondered why Helena was drinking as if she had, in her possession, the last whisky bottle on Earth. "I know you have issues with your father, but this goes beyond all your feelings for him. We are talking about innocent children."

The young woman didn't respond. She remained still, gazing at the older woman. The redhead drank a bit more water and put the glass on the table. Helena was drinking more of her liquor.

There was a noise at the other side of the bar. The brunette turned lazily. There was a fight.. The young woman finished her glass. "I'll be right back."

Barbara took a drink of water. Helena, in a second, had jumped into the fray. Before Barbara could count to three, Helena had ended the fight with two fast movements. After a few seconds, she returned to her seat.

"Sorry, work issues." She poured another glass of scotch.

"Aren't you afraid of getting drunk when you drink that much?"

"Hard to get drunk." She grinned. "I'm meta."

"Yes, true." Barbara shook her head "You fight well."

"Thanks."

"You could be good, if you had some technique."

Helena took the comment as an insult. "Excuse me?"

"You fight well, but you need technique. Maybe I can help you."

"What?" Helena laughed, amused.

"I know how to fight," Barbara smiled. "I practiced gymnastic many years and some martial arts, too."

"I knew about the gymnastics, but not about martial arts."

"I love martial arts, it's not just about fighting," the redhead explained. "It's about knowing your body, controlling your mind, your environment, and using the strength of your opponent against them."

"I don't need anything." Helena watched her with curiosity. Barbara crossed her arm over the table. "Why do you hate him so much?"

"I don't hate him."

You two could never have a good relationship."

Helena stood up and picked up the bottle from the table. "Time's up, I have work to do."

"I'll be there at ten," Barbara said.

The young woman didn't answer and returned to the bar. Barbara stared at her glass. She closed her eyes a brief second. This was going to be so hard.

-----------

"Miss Barbara, good to see you," Alfred said, greeting the redhead when he walked inside the her office at the Wayne Foundation.

"Thanks, Alfred," she said, smiling and standing up. "Thanks for accepting my invitation to have lunch with me."

The office was huge. It had a spectacular view of New Gotham and a small, but comfortable living room with a TV. Barbara spent most of the day there and it was like a second home for her.

"Always a pleasure," he said lifting a plastic bag. "I brought your favorite salad."

Barbara frowned and rested her hips on the desk. "I invited you to lunch."

"I know, but knowing your cooking abilities, I preferred cook myself," he said, smiling.

"My cooking is not that bad."

"Trust my instincts."

She rolled her eyes and opened the door of a private room to her left. It had a small dining room and a kitchen. The table was ready, so she opened the fridge and took out a pitcher of water.

"You are incorrigible." She said, "For your information, I considered buying some food at the salad restaurant on the corner."

"The worst in the city." Alfred pointed out, opening the bag on the counter. "I'm glad I thought to bring the salad."

"The table is ready, so sit, please."

"Thanks, but let me," he responded, moving a chair back for her.

"Always a gentleman." She sat on her chair.

"I can't deny it." He put then bowl with salad on the table.

"I went to see Helena last night." The redhead poured water in her glass while Alfred sat at the other side of the table.

"Any luck with her?" he asked.

"No, she is as stubborn as her mother." She put a bit of salad on his plate before taking a forkful of her own. "How are things on your side?"

"Her apartment, if you can call it that, is a mess."

"It's that bad?"

"Not the apartment, her. The place is small, but comfortable and nice. The problem is that she still doesn't know the meaning of order."

She laughed lightly. "She has always been a disaster with order."

"She told me she met Batgirl."

"Oh…" Barbara looked at him. "It means she impressed her. If not, she wouldn't have commented about her."

"Yes," he agreed. "She is not easily impressed by anyone."

"Maybe it was the cowl."

He chuckled. "She thinks that, perhaps, her father sent Batgirl to keep an eye on her."

"Sounds logical, but no." Barbara put more salad on her plate. "He told me he knew she was doing this and was worried because she fights, but doesn't think. I thought it would be good to keep an eye on her. Selina loved her so much and would be upset if she knew Helena is trying to tear herself apart."

"And?"

"Well, she had her 'I know everything attitude' and was really rude. She didn't like that I stopped her from beating a guy to death."

"Weren't you afraid she would recognize you?"

"Nah, she never would imagine me dressed as a bat at night…. and I was in a fire before." She pointed at him with her fork. "The smell of the smoke and melted plastic really disgusted her."

"You need to be careful, she was not happy."

"I bet. I really pissed her off."

"She asked me if I knew her." Alfred ate a piece of salad.

"And?" the redhead asked curiously. If she could get her attention as Batgirl, maybe it was a good signal and she could find a way to get close to her.

"I said no."

"You lied?" Barbara lifted her brow. "That is new, you never lie."

"Technically, no," he smiled, taking his glass of water. "I said that I didn't know her, that she was an enigma for me. And she is. Batgirl has always been an enigmatic part of your personality, Miss Barbara. She never asked me, "Do you know her name?" In that case, I would have told her the truth, but she didn't ask it."

"Clever." Barbara smiled, he really was smart.

"British." He winked.

He had piqued her curiosity. She wanted to know more about the girl. She wanted to find a way to get her to open the doors of heart. She was a good detective, but people were not her best area, and, even less so, angry young people. "What else did she say?"

"Not much, but she is very intrigued about who Batgirl is. She wants to find her again to determine what she wants. You must be careful; Miss Helena is pretty aggressive. I assume she will look for a fight with Batgirl."

"That doesn't worry me too much." Barbara exhaled, "What worries me is that she is so impulsive. She really could hurt someone or herself."

"I agree, sometimes she returns with pretty bad bruises. She loves to learn the hard way."

"Helena thinks she doesn't need anyone and tries to attack any human being that tries to be close to her."

"True."

Barbara stared at the far wall, thinking long seconds in silence.

"Something wrong?" Alfred asked.

"What happened with her, Alfred, all those years that she was with Bruce?" she asked. "When I returned, she was not the sweet girl I knew. She was cold, angry, arrogant and stubborn, she distrusted everyone."

"She was sad in the beginning and she felt lonely. I understand it was not comfortable living in a house that was not her own with a strange man that she'd just learned was her father." He remembered with sadness, "Master Bruce tried to get close to her, but he failed." He explained, "But things went from bad to worse when she discovered he was Batman."

"Why?"

"She asked him to kill her mother's murderer, her refused to do it, and that was the point of no return."

"He doesn't kill."
"She never could understand that. She turned most aggressive and shut herself off; she looked for every way to piss him off and she found it."

"Spending his money and being a troublemaker," she said.

"Yes."

"It was sad. He didn't know what to do. She was really a difficult person."

Barbara sipped a bit of water. She put the glass on the table and looked at him, "She still is. I noticed it when I returned. She just closed herself off to me, too."

"Yes, I remember how many times you tried to talk with her and she refused."

The red head fixed her green eyes on him "It just seems like she needs someone to talk to. Does she talk to you"?

"Yes, she is funny… grumpy but funny. I always try to tell her all the things she doesn't want to hear. Sometimes she gets furious, but she never says anything to me. I still have hope that you can find the way to open her heart. She deserves to live again."

The old man took a deep breath.

"And I'm quite afraid she will get herself killed, if she keeps risking her life, obsessed with the idea of tracking her mother's murderer."

"I saw her fight, as I told you… twice. She is really good, but, yes, she still needs to train. Fighting crime is not a piece of cake."

"Agreed."

"She needs to stop and think, make a plan. She needs to focus on the fight, protect her sides." She waved her hands. "Anyone that knows how to fight could hit her easily. "I offered to teach her last night."

"What she said?"

"What do you think?" She tilted her head. "She refused."

"I think she needs a bit of pressure."

"She is so hard headed. Sometimes I think she needs a good kick in the ass."

"That might help, too."

Both chuckled.

"But, you know what?" Barbara asked. "I have a plan. I think I know how I can make her accept my company."

"That sounds interesting. Perhaps you'd like to share your idea?"

"Sure."

-----------------

The dark haired woman crouched over a building and closed her eyes. She felt so alive then. She still couldn't understand why life had been so hard on her. She didn't think she'd done anything horrible. First, it had been hard to deal with being half meta; when she was a kid she had to hide it.

Her mother told her that people didn't understand metas and that it would be dangerous if people knew her secret. She had been a happy child. Yes, her whole life had been perfect until that day. The day she was murdered.

Since then, she had been living just to reach her goal: to find who had killed her mother and take revenge -- the revenge that her father refused to accept.

She heard a scream. She noticed it came from the park in front of her, but she couldn't see anything, it was surrounded by many trees. She jumped down and ran toward the place from where the yell had come.

She arrived and saw that two guys had a young girl on the ground and were ripping her clothes. Her fury raged. She grabbed the first guy by his shirt and threw him across the clearing.

The other guy tried to attack her, but she ducked and punched him hard in his face. He tried to hit her, but she was faster. He hit his head hard and fell unconscious.

She kneeled next to the girl. "Are you okay?"

The girl, crying, nodded.

"Go," she said.

Helena felt a hard blow on her head. She turned and kicked the guy. She took her hand to her head. Now, she was pissed.

Feral eyes turned, and she kicked him in the head. He couldn't react, she fell over him, beating him harder.

The man yelled and cried, but she didn't hear his pleas.

Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted and thrown to the side. She rolled and crouched, ready to attack, wondering who the hell was messing with her.

"You?" she growled angrily, seeing Batgirl standing in front of her. She looked impressive in that black suit, but she was not going to show her any respect or fear. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I asked you to stop, but you didn't listen." The masked woman turned and kneeled next to the man to check his pulse. He was alive.

"What's wrong with you?" Helena shouted, standing up.

"I was going to ask you the same." The redhead stood up, glaring at her. She definitely didn't like her style. "What in heaven's name do you think you are doing?"

Helena observed her. She was taller than Helena and looked like a giant bat. Now, she began to understand the clothing was part of a trick to intimidate people. "I was going to rip his head off! That son of a bitch tried to rape a girl!"

"It doesn't give you the right to kill him," The redhead scolded with a hard voice.

No one had ever talked to her like that... at least not since her mother died. Helena blinked, disconcerted. Who was she? She was the first person that challenged her in that way. The woman didn't seem to be afraid of her. People were afraid of her and, yet, Batgirl was not moving a single muscle.

"You are no one to tell me what to do or not," Helena growled.

"Maybe," Batgirl said, crossing her arms, "but I can stop you and prevent you from committing the worst mistake in your life."

"What?" It was definitely looking like she'd need to kick Batgirl's ass.

"What's your name?" The redhead lowered her head and looked for a strange box on her belt.

The movement disconcerted her. Lowering her head meant she didn't see Helena as a threat. She was very confident or very stupid.

"None of your business," she spat back.

"I'm Batgirl," the redhead said, lifting her head and pressing a button on the box she had in hand. "What's your name?"

"Huntress," she responded, almost automatically, not knowing where the name came from. "What's that?"

"This?" The redhead lifted the box. "I sent a signal to emergency services. An ambulance will be here in a few minutes."

"You called an ambulance? For him??"

"He is a human being. Let the courts judge him. Now tell me, why 'Huntress'?"

Batgirl's attitude confused the young woman. The costumed vigilante was acting as if she was the adult and Helena, a child.

"I hunt assholes like that one." The brunette growled in irritation. "And I beat people that piss me off, like you!"

"It's not good that you take advantage of your meta skills," Batgirl said, pointing at her. "You must be more responsible using your power against humans."

"He is not a human, he is an animal!" She walked toward her, fists in balls. "Why are you defending criminals? Aren't you supposed to be a 'hero'?"

"I am. What are you?"

"Excuse me?" Helena asked in disbelief. What kind of question was that?

"I said I am a hero. What are you?"

"I'm a fucking crime fighter, if you haven't noticed!" Helena shouted. She wrinkled her nose and took a step back. She smelled like gasoline, damn! It was so nasty!

Batgirl smiled, noticing her discomfort.

"What is so funny?" Helena asked in annoyance, seeing Batgirl's smirk.

"Nothing."

Helena wrinkled her nose again, the smell was so annoying. "Your perfume sucks!"

"Sorry. Gas station. Helping a couple."

"God! Were they swimming in gas?"

"Something like that." Batgirl nodded her head,

Helena glared at the woman, annoyed. She was smart, and she knew it. Batgirl was challenging her and Helena was now very pissed off. She was not used to being challenged. Who was she? "Do you think you always are in control?" she asked.

"I must be in control, if I want to stay alive."

"Well, be careful or I'll rip your head off."

Batgirl laughed.

That was it. The last straw. Huntress growled, her eyes feral, and threw a punch at Batgirl's face.

The redhead ducked and used Helena's impulse to turn her around and throw her to the ground.

"Easy, Huntress," the redhead said. "I don't want to hurt you. You must control yourself. You let your emotions blind you."

"Fuck you!" The young woman stood and kicked out. Batgirl moved back.

"Huntess," the cowled superhero said, "I don't want to fight."

"Are you scared?"

The redhead sighed in exasperation. Huntress tried to punch her again and Batgirl blocked it. She hit the brunette hard in her gut with her leg. The brunette took a step back, holding her stomach.

"Look, Huntress," Batgirl said, waving her hand, "could you please stop?"

Groaning, the young woman moved with incredible speed and kicked her in her face. Batgirl fell backwards, seeing stars.

The redhead shook her head and rubbed her jaw, she hadn't seen that coming. Huntress smirked in front of her, her fists balled.

"Stand up," Huntress ordered, smiling.

Batgirl shook her head. It seemed Helena was not going to learn with words. The redhead stood up and closed her fists, guarding herself. "All right," she said, "let's do it the hard way."

Huntress turned and threw a kick that Batgirl avoided by moving back. The young woman jumped and tried to kick her, but Batgirl bent over and Helena fell behind her. When Huntress turned, she found a hard fist hitting her skull. The next second, she felt a knee burying in her gut, knocking the air from her lungs.

She couldn't react and Batgirl's fist felt like a hammer when it hit the middle of her nose. She stumbled back, hearing a buzz on her ears and seeing flashes around her. It was hard to stand on her feet. She took her hand to her nose, still hearing that annoying buzz on her ears. She shook her head trying to clear her vision. Batgirl was standing in front of her. She lifted her fist to punch the other woman, but a hard blow under her jaw made her knees give out and her vision blur. She hit the ground like a ton of bricks.

She heard her someone calling her name, but it was distant.

Then, she felt herself lifted off the ground by the front of her jacket. She was thrown over a shoulder. Maybe she fell unconscious, then, because when she opened her eyes again, she noticed the dark sky above her. She coughed and rolled to her side, taking her hand to her nose that hurt like hell. She was bleeding. Her shirt was soaked in her own blood.

She growled, tilting her head back, trying to stop the hemorrhage.

She noticed then that she was on a rooftop. It took her a few moments to kneel and stand up. "Crap." She shook her head and coughed again. Who the hell was that woman? How she could fight that well? She winced, the smell of gasoline still filling her nostrils.

Fuck. Why was Batgirl always in such nasty places?

With hesitant steps, she went toward the edge of the building. Looking below, she noticed the police and an ambulance below.

She had beaten her to a pulp and, later, she had taken her to safety. Why?

That was so confusing.

Whatever.

She could figure it out later. Her nose was on fire and hurt like hell, but not more than her pride. She coughed and turned to walk to her home.


TBC