Thanks to Night and now to Aussie, that is helping me on the edition while Night is on vacations....
And thanks so much all for your nice feedback
----------------
"Did you find something?" the brunette asked.
"Not much. But it's something," Barbara replied. "I thought that this would help, but it doesn't."
Helena moved back and sat on the desk. "What was the scan I took?"
"It was information about which enterprises produce the chemical I found in your blood."
"It's not on the system?"
"That info, no." Barbara shook her head. "I need to keep working on this tomorrow. Let's go to sleep, it's late."
"All right." The brunette hopped to the floor.
Barbara looked at the younger woman. She liked Helena's company, maybe much more than she wanted to admit. Helena was funny, she liked her smile, she liked to hear her laughing. She liked to argue with her, too. She always had a smart answer.
"Are you sleeping on the couch again?" Barbara asked.
"Yes."
She felt it was a hard place to sleep, and the box spring wouldn't arrive until Monday.
"Don't you want to stay in my bedroom? The bed is plenty big enough."
"Oh no, I'm fine." The truth was that her back was killing her, but well…. She preferred to keep her distance from the redhead. She really was hot and made feel her very bervous.
"You don't look like it."
"I'm fine, seriously."
"Okay, as you wish." Barbara stood up and walked toward the cabinet.
"What if tomorrow I go out to do some sweeps and see if I can find some information."
"I think it's a good idea. I was thinking the same." Barbara picked up something and returned to the platform. "I'll go with you."
"You?"
"Yes, I don't want you to be alone." the redhead explained. "If he knows you are asking questions, he might try to ambush you." She gave a container to Helena.
"What is this?"
"I'm sure your back hurts. So use it, it's an ointment."
"Oh no, Barbara, I don't need it." The brunette tried to give it back to her.
"Keep it just in case." The older woman went to the elevator.
"I want to go out tonight." Helena followed her.
"It's not a good idea."
"l'd be happy enjoying some good scotch and looking at hot girls."
"Do you really like girls?" Barbara asked. "You talk about it, but I never know if you are bluffing or if you are telling the truth."
"Well, it's the truth, I prefer girls." The brunette smiled.
"Isn't it more difficult?" The redhead walked out of the elevator into her penthouse. "I mean, usually you flirt, as a woman, and then you choose."
"I just invert the order, I choose and I flirt. I please women very well and I'm always on demand. Dating a woman is easier, a woman knows what a woman wants."
"I understand that, but…" Barbara fixed her green eyes on her "What do you want?"
Helena felt those deep pupils burying in her soul. She didn't know what to answer, no one had asked her that before. "What… I want?" she mumbled.
"Yes, it seems you please women and women look for you, but what do you want?"
"I don't want anything."
"Nothing? You don't want anything back? What about love Helena?"
"That's bullshit." The young woman shrugged her shoulders. "I just have a good time and that's all."
"No one has ever wanted more than that later?"
"Sometimes, but I'm very clear, no relationships."
"Have you ever been in love?"
"That doesn't exist, Red." she replied.
The older woman noticed a hint of sadness in her voice. It caught her attention that she had called her Red.
"It's best just to have fun," Helena said. "Enjoy the moment and keep going."
"You must have an empty life."
The comment pissed Helena off; she crossed her arms. "I'm not boring as you."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just saying…" Barbara said.
"I know what you are saying," the brunette interrupted her.
Barbara sighed and walked to her room. "Ok, Helena. When you grow up, maybe we can talk."
"Oh… I'm sorry, I forgot I was talking with 'The Oracle'. "
"Don't be childish." She stopped and turned to see her.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Maturity, if I offended you."
"As I see it," the redhead said with a calm voice, "the only one offended here is you. I was just trying to say that it's sad that you don't believe in real love."
"I don't need it, I don't need anyone."
The redhead lifted an eyebrow. She had heard her say that so many times that she didn't believe it. She was sure Helena just said that to convince herself.
"Yes, true," Barbara lowered her head and looked at her feet, "maybe that's why you came to see me when you were drugged."
"You said it, I was drugged." Helena waved her hands. "I never would have come here, had I been in my senses."
"Sure and you wouldn't kiss me neither."
The brunette stared at her not knowing what to answer.
"Why don't you try to be honest, just once in your life?" Barbara exhaled loudly "You know you can trust me."
"Looks who's talking about being honest," Helena growled.
"Helena, stop, please! I'm trying to help you! Help me, too. Stop fighting everything."
"Why do you follow me?"
"Excuse me?"
"All my life, since my mom died, you always try to be close to me, why? What's your interest? What do you want?"
The redhead shook her head. It was a shame. Helena couldn't understand and, as always, she was changing the subject. She was avoiding talking about her own issues.
"You will never understand," she answered. Helena was so hard headed that she didn't want to understand that she had loved her since she was a child because she was family.
Helena smirked at her when she didn't answer. "Interested?"
"You are not my type." Barbara wanted to slap her. She was trying to piss her off.
"You wish."
"My interest is in men."
"I think you are afraid to experiment."
"I don't need to experiment, I found what I want."
"What's that?"
"Wade."
"Oh, come on, you can't still be dating him."
"I am." Barbara confirmed, smirking.
"I haven't seen him." Helena tilted her head.
"He is in France, working on a master's degree. He will return next month. He has been there a year." The redhead rested her hips on the couch behind her.
"What do you see in that guy?"
"Many things. What's the problem? He values me, unlike you. As I recall, you said once I could be your mother."
Helena gave an exasperated sigh, irritated with herself.
"He doesn't see me that way," Barbara explained. "He looks at me as a woman. I wouldn't want to be like you. It's a shame that you, being a woman, disrespect women."
"I don't disrespect women! I love them!"
"And, after using them, you throw them away as if they were nothing. You must feel ashamed of yourself."
The comment made Helena flinch. "Love doesn't exist. It's a fact, you can't judge me for my beliefs, you deny your feelings, too."
"I don't deny my feelings, I control them."
"Control is not avoidance?"
"No, if you let your feelings control your actions, in this business, it means getting killed."
"Why are you helping me? Out of love or out of obligation?"
"I'm not helping you, you don't need anyone's help. I'm working with you to catch the criminal that is behind this," Barbara said sharply, sometimes the girl made her lose control. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm tired. Good night." She turned and walked to her room closing the door behind her.
Helena sighed. She was doing well, first calling her old and later saying that she didn't need anyone. Dammit. She looked at the couch where she would sleep and then the container in her hands. She would need a gallon of that stuff if the box spring didn't arrive soon.
Huntress crouched on top of a building. She had been hunting the detective that had given her the cookies. He had disappeared, but tonight Oracle had found him. He had used his credit card. Huntress had moved as fast as she could to intercept him.
The redhead had checked her system as soon as Helena arrived. He had opened an account and still hadn't closed it. She had waited patiently for him.
Almost an hour.
The problem was that keeping vigil in a place like this in winter was hell. She rubbed her hands.
The discussion with the redhead two days ago was still in her mind. She didn't like to argue with her, but they definitely had opposite points of view. She was not going to change her lifestyle just because Barbara didn't agree with it.
She felt uncomfortable with some of Barbara comments, like she was not a person that the redhead would like to be.
She thought she was a cold person, not caring about the feelings of others. She was wrong, she just didn't want to be hurt again.
Was it so bad?
"You really want yourself dead," the redhead said from behind her.
Helena squeezed her eyes shut. Oh crap. Why did she always catch her off guard? Why couldn't she feel her presence?
"You need to watch your back," Batgirl said, standing at her side.
"Weren't you supposed to be guiding me?"
"I wanted to keep an eye on you, and I'm glad I did."
"I know how to take care of myself."
"Sure," the caped woman looked around, "with your entire back working as a giant target."
"Don't you have anything else to do?"
"Yes, but now I just want to be sure you will survive yourself." She winked at her.
"Survive myself?" Helena repeated.
"Yeah." The redhead walked toward the cornice. "You are pretty careless."
"What?" Huntress asked, surprised and annoyed.
"Look at you now, in the open field, not taking precautions."
"Maybe I want to be shot."
"I don't think so."
"You can't be sure."
"I'm sure."
"Yes?" the brunette stood up and faced her. "Why are you so sure?"
"Your boots are new. Someone that wants to die doesn't buy five hundred dollar boots just to get shot."
The young woman looked down. Shit. Yeah, she had just bought her boots that afternoon. She was angry, why the fuck did Batgirl think she knew everything?
"You should be grateful," Batgirl turned to look at her. "I don't usually babysit anyone."
"Babysit?" the brunette growled. She didn't know why that costume brought out the worst in the redhead.
"Well, you said I'm old enough to be your mother." Batgirl said, looking down at the street. The door of the hidden bar was guarded by two big black men.
"Why do you keep bringing that up?"
"Well, you always say you don't need help and I don't complain."
"God, I hate you!" The brunette turned her back to the caped vigilante.
"So, you say…" Batgirl waved her finger at her.
"Yeah, yeah, I say it often and you don't complain." Huntress waved her hand. "Why don't you go away?"
"Because our target is now walking out of the club," she pointed down with her finger, "and you have been so busy talking to me that you didn't notice him."
"What?" Huntress turned and ran toward the edge of the building. She stood up next to the redhead.
The man was walking down street. She ran to the opposite side of the building.
"Your friend, the detective, is going out now."
"Good," the brunette looked down, feeling she had been saved by the bell. "I want to kick someone. He is lucky."
"Lucky?"
"He will have the pleasure of seeing me again."
Batgirl walked slowly behind Helena, covering her back, she was alert, she didn't want to be surprised by anyone. The brunette was too impulsive.
The man walked down the empty street.
He cleaned the sweat from his face with his handkerchief. Checking his watch, he noticed it was late. He turned a corner and he felt a hard blow on his face that made him fall backwards. The man yelled, holding his bleeding nose.
"Miss me?" the brunette grinned.
"What's wrong with you?" he shouted "Are you crazy?"
The young woman lifted him by his lapels and smashed his back against the wall.
"Who gave you the cookies?"
"What?"
She punched him in his face. He howled.
"All right," Helena said "Let me ask another way, who are you working for?"
"I don't know what you are talking about!" he shouted.
The brunette hit him twice with her fist before ramming her knee in his gut. He fell to his knees, stunned and coughing. He spat blood from his mouth
"Maybe you don't know," Batgirl said, landing on the ground, "but it is difficult to get a confession if you knock him out before letting him talk."
Helena cocked her head, looking at the man. She lifted him by his shirt and put him against the wall again.
"Okay, detective," she frowned, "last chance. You are helping someone, and that someone is not very nice. You tried to drug me with those cookies, why?"
"I… I…" he gasped.
"Think twice before you lie to me again." She lifted her fist.
"All right, all right…"
Batgirl had a bad feeling, she looked around. There was a glint of metal from a window on the fourth floor of a building to their side.
Huntress' senses were alert, she felt danger close. She snapped her head to her right as Batgirl pushed her down. They hit the ground.
"What the f…"? The brunette growled, feeling herself being pulled behind a container by the redhead.
"Don't move," Batgirl said.
Huntress noticed half of the detective's head had been blow off. The wall was covered in blood. "Shit… That was a cannon, not a bullet."
"It's a sniper," Batgirl said, "and he must be using a .45. Be careful."
Huntress took a piece of mirror from the ground and pointed it up. She looked at it. "Fourth floor, third window."
"How do you know?" the redhead asked.
"I have my secrets too."
"Does he have night vision? It will look like a kind of binoculars over his eyes?" The redhead looked for something on her belt.
The brunette narrowed her eyes. "Looks like it."
"All right, he wants you," the redhead mumbled. "So, let's give him what he wants."
"What??"
Batgirl didn't answer. She took a ball from her belt.
"What are you doing?"
"This is the plan. I'll throw this, it will produce a light explosion. He will be blind. You jump to that container and hide behind it." She pointed to the opposite side of the street. "He wants you. He is not interested in me. While he is busy trying to shoot you, I'll catch him."
"Am I the bait?"
"Yes, you said you wanted to be shot, congratulations," she patted her shoulder "your dream has come true." Without another word, she stood up and threw the ball in the air. Another shot was heard. "Now!" she shouted.
The brunette ran to the other side of the street. "You are nuts!" she growled.
A bullet whispered close her ear. She rolled and hid behind the metal container. Another shot was heard hitting the metal.
"Shit." She covered her head with her arm.
That man was definitely determined to kill her. She looked around. She was in a corner, no way to move to another place.
Where was Batgirl? She tried to look back again, but as soon she moved, another shot was heard. She ducked her head.
Well, she was trapped.
Brilliant plan the redhead had, now she was stuck in a very uncomfortable position, with her back against a smelly trash container and her butt on the cold ground.
The worst was, of course, that her ass was freezing.
She had been doing just fine – more than fine – alone, until Batgirl had appeared. Why the hell had she appeared? She could handle this by herself. This was the last time she would listen to her. This was the exact reason she loved to work alone. It was much better.
She looked at her boots, crap. What the fuck had she stepped in? That stuff on her boot didn't look good. Seemed it might be gum. She hated gum. It was nasty and difficult to remove. She would have to use petroleum and it smelled horrible. Maybe she could get Alfred….
"Having fun?"
She snapped her head up. Batgirl was standing there. Shit. How did she do that? She was silent as a damn cat too.
"What are you doing here?" she said, looking toward the building
"Coming to rescue you."
"Very funny." The brunette stood up. "Where is the sniper?"
The masked woman looked toward the building. "Dead. I surprised him and disarmed him, but he pulled a capsule out of his pocket and swallowed it. Seems it was poison."
"What? That is crazy."
"No. This is serious. More serious than I originally thought. I took some pics, digital prints, I'll check them at the Clock Tower." Batgirl turned her back to the younger woman and walked towards the street "We must go now; the police will find us here and that will not be good."
Huntress frowned, she was wincing. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing, just a scratch."
The brunette grabbed her by her arm and turned her around. She looked at her waist. "You are hurt."
The redhead looked down. "It's nothing. Just a scratch from a bullet."
"Not a scratch, it broke the fucking kevlar! What kind of fucking bullet was that?"
"They really want to see you dead."
"Dammit, you are bleeding."
"It's nothing, the bullet that killed the detective scratched me when I pushed you down. I'll be fine."
"I'll drive."
"What?"
"I'll drive the bike."
"You don't…"
"I'm not asking."
The ride back home was the longest Batgirl had ever experienced, she felt numb. When she arrived at the Clock Tower, she felt very dizzy. She removed her cowl in the elevator and wiped her face with her glove.
"Are you okay?" the brunette asked, noticing she didn't look well.
"I'm tired, that's all," Barbara responded.
"You are sweating. We need to check that." The young woman pointed at her waist.
"It's just a scratch," the redhead insisted.
"Scratch, my ass."
"I'll be fine Helena."
The elevator doors opened and both walked out. Alfred was at the upper floor.
Barbara tried to step out, but her knees felt weak. Helena held her.
"Let me help." She took Barbara's arm and moved it around her neck. "I need help here, Alfred," she shouted.
When she put her hand on her waist, Helena's fingers felt a sticky warmth. It was blood. They went to the lab slowly, she sat the redhead on the medical table.
Barbara couldn't understand why she felt so dizzy. She hadn't lost that much blood.
Helena removed the cape and the locks on the body armor. She helped the redhead to remove it carefully. She froze when she noticed Barbara's t-shirt was torn and covered in blood. She hadn't seen so much blood since her mother had died years ago. She stared at the blood staining the redhead's clothes.
Barbara looked at her side. The bullet must have had been very powerful to break her armor and scratch her skin.
Helena remembered her mother's blood, she remembered the pain and the frustration she felt that night. Her eyes fixed on her hand, there was blood. She closed her fist, her hands shaking.
"Helena?"
Blue eyes blinked. She opened her mouth and noticed Barbara was talking to her, she tried to say something, but she couldn't find the words.
The redhead noticed that she was upset.
The girl looked at her bloody side and then her hand.
Barbara understood. "I'm fine, Helena, It's just a…" Barbara swallowed and closed her eyes a brief second. She felt really dazed. "It's just a superficial wound."
The brunette felt fear. Fear that she thought she would never feel again.
"Helena, please." The redhead took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm fine."
"You are hurt," the girl mumbled.
"It's nothing… the bullet just scratched me."
Alfred arrived at that moment and looked at the redhead. "Oh my God, what happened?"
Barbara turned to her side and examined her wound.
"It's a scratch."
"A bad one," he noted.
"I'm fine. Call Leslie, she can help," Barbara responded lifting her shirt. Shit, that was a nasty wound.
Alfred turned and went to the phone.
Barbara looked at the brunette. Helena was paralyzed. Barbara tried to say something to her, but her tongue was stuck. Her mind blurred, she rested her hand on the bed to avoid falling.
"Red?" Helena took a step toward her, Barbara's obvious distress moving her to action.
"I…" the redhead tried to speak, but she passed out and fell forward.
The brunette hurried to catch her before she hit the floor. "Barbara!"
She felt panic. Barbara was bleeding. Moving her carefully back to the medical table, she laid her down.
"Barbara?"
"What happened?" Alfred asked, after hanging up the phone and walking in with a tray of medical equipment.
"She fainted," Helena said, worried. "I'll take her to a hospital."
"No, Leslie will be here in a few minutes. I'll clean the wound before she arrives." He gave the brunette a cold cloth. "Keep her cool with this."
"Who is Leslie?"
The young woman took the cloth and wiped Barbara's forehead.
"She's an old doctor, a friend of the family. You should know her, sometimes she kept an eye on you when you were a child."
After a few minutes, the doctor arrived.
Helena sat in a corner and watched the old doctor working on the redhead. Yes, she had seen her before, and it seemed she knew about Barbara's secret life. She had walked into the Clock Tower and she hadn't been surprised by the place nor had she asked questions about Barbara's black costume.
She turned and asked something of Alfred. He responded to her and the woman turned, looking at Helena.
"Kid, come here," she said.
The brunette went toward her.
"Tell me what happened."
The young woman looked at Alfred, not sure is she should tell the truth. He smiled and nodded.
"We were on a sweep and I trapped a guy. Suddenly, we heard a shot gun and she pushed me to the side. The bullet killed the criminal. She told me the scratch had been made by the same bullet that killed the man."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"I need the bullet, just don't touch it," Leslie explained. "And I need it now."
"The police will be there now," Helena said, not understanding.
"Barbara has been poisoned, the bullet that hit her was coated with some kind of poison."
"Poisoned?" the brunette mumbled.
"I need an antidote," the doctor said, "and the antidote can only be created if I have the poison. Try to recover that bullet."
"It was for me…" the brunette mumbled. Barbara had saved her life and now she was on the edge of death.
"We don't have time. Just a few hours. Hurry."
Helena understood, she turned and ran to the elevator.
The woman curiously watched her leave. "Is that Bruce's child? Selina's daughter?" she asked.
"Yes," Alfred said.
"She has grown up so much. The last time I saw her was when she was a child," she smiled "and what a child, she was a demon."
"She is a woman now."
The doctor took a wet cloth and cleaned the red head's forehead. "What is she doing with Barbara? The last I heard, the girl didn't want anything to do with Bruce or anyone who reminded her of him."
"Long story."
"If Barbara lets her work with her, it must be because the girl is very good."
"She is indeed."
"I hope so." The old woman looked at Alfred. "She needs to be good now. Barbara doesn't have much time."
The detective walked to his car with all the evidence he had collected from the crime scene. He adjusted his jacket. It had been a weird crime. It seemed a man had shot another man in an alley and, afterwards, he had killed himself. He couldn't find the sense in it.
Lately, so many weird things had been happening in the city.
He opened his car door.
Suddenly, he felt someone pushing him against the car. His arm twisted behind his back.
"Easy, don't move." A female voice said from behind him.
She began to check inside his pockets, He tried to move and he felt a blow on the back of his head and an arm pressing against his neck.
"I'm sorry, detective," Huntress said from behind him, "I don't want to be rude. Just don't move."
"Who are you?"
"An old friend."
"Friend?" he asked "I have never seen you."
She found his police ID and, curious, she opened it. "Yes, Detective… Reese, I have always wanted to know your name."
"You…" he tried to move, but she kept him immobilized.
"Please." the brunette smiled, taking the evidence bag she found in his pocket, "behave, I don't want to be rough."
"That evidence is police property," he growled.
"I know," she checked inside the bag, "but I'm trying to save a life now."
"By stealing?"
"Borrowing. I'll bring it back to you." The brunette found it, a bloody bullet and what seemed to be the other bullets from the sniper's gun.
"I'll catch you."
"Dream on." She took his gun and threw it several meters away from them.
She stepped back, releasing him. He turned angrily and tried to attack her, but she ducked and put him against the ground.
"Don't try to do that again." The brunette put the two bags inside her pocket. "I'll take this and I'll give it back to you tomorrow."
"That's against law," he growled from the ground.
"Someone dropped the Hermez shooter off at the precinct doorstep last week, right?" she said "And the Dorsett kidnapper? I practically gift-wrapped that one for you."
"Who are you?" he asked standing up. How did she know about that?
"Someone who helps you at night."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't have time to explain," the vigilante responded, "but I promise to give this back to you tomorrow. It's important, a person's life depends on it."
She ran and jumped to the building.
TBC
