DISCLAIMER: "Birds of Prey" and characters are copywritten by Miller/Tobin
Productions, Warner Brothers, DC comics et al. This story is for
entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright
infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are
the property of the author.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Therapy
By trancer
"Tell me about the dream, Helena." Harley Quinn leaned back in her chair. Looking relaxed and composed, a slightly bored expression on her usually blank face. Her cream colored suit hung expertly around her frame. The buttons to the jacket cut low. The shirt underneath was silk, white, a little too revealing to be considered profession. But, that's why Helena liked Dr. Quinzel. She didn't always play by the rules.
"No." Helena clenched her mouth. Snapped her eyes shut. Anything to keep from looking at her therapist. She sat across from the woman in the overly comfortable designer chair. Her entire body pulled taut with tension.
"Helena," Harley's voice was low and silky. "This is the point of therapy. How can we exorcise your demons if you refuse to set them free?"
"Maybe I don't want this demon free?"
"Oh, come now, we both know that's not true. Now, tell me about the dream."
Helena inhaled. Blew the air heavily across her lips. It always came to this, to Helena's dream. "I'm home."
"Who's home?"
"Our home. Mine and Barbara's."
"Does she know you're there?"
"No. She's sitting at her computer." Helena leaned back in her chair. Her eyes lost focus as she stared blankly at the wall, letting the image wash over her. "The sun's setting and the light makes her hair look like liquid fire. She's wearing the shirt I love. It's just a white muscle tee, but it shows her arms and when she leans just right, I can see her neck."
"So you're watching her?"
"Yes."
"How long do you watch her, Helena?" Harley's eyes close to mere slits on her face, the irises widening in excitement. "How long, Helena?"
"Eternity."
"And how does that make you feel?"
"Angry." Her hands balled into fists, opened and closed them as if unsure what to do with her hands.
"Why?"
"Because she's just being Barbara. Just sitting there typing on her keyboard. I can see her fingers like little dancers on the keys and I want to feel those fingers on my flesh. Want to feel her skin on me, taste her, consume her. She makes me feel boiling hot and ice cold. Angry, happy, sad, amused, my skin's on fire, like my entire being is on fire. She does this to me and she doesn't even know I'm there."
"And you want her?"
"God yes." Helena clenched her teeth. Her fingers dug into the armrests of her chair until her knuckles were sheet white. "I want her so bad, it hurts. I have to make it stop hurting. I bite the inside of my cheek and I can taste the blood in my mouth."
"Why do you bite yourself?"
She closed her eyes again. Pangs off guilt quickly etched across her face. "Because I don't want to do what I'm thinking."
"But, you do it anyway, don't you?"
"Yes." Hypnosis, Helena thought. She had to be under hypnosis. That was the only thing that could explain why she continued telling Harley her dream.
"What do you do, Helena?" Harley pushed a little harder, her voice a little sterner.
"It's not what I do, it's what she does."
"What does Barbara do?"
"She looks at me."
"That's it?" She couldn't contain the slight gasp in her voice. "She looks at you?"
"You don't understand." Helena opened her eyes to glare angrily at her therapist, then quickly closed them. "That's all she has to do. All she has to do is look at me with her emerald eyes and I melt. I freeze. I want to do anything and everything to keep her looking at me. But, I want her to stop. I want her to stop making me feel this way. Deprived. Hungry. Aching. Like a thirsty man who's never allowed to drink."
"She beckons you and denies you."
"Yes." Helena winced at the admission.
"So, in your dream, what do you do? What happens next?"
"I take her." The words are soft, but Helena's lips curl into a sneer.
"Explain."
"She looks at me, and her eyes are innocent and guilty. It rips me open. And I can't stop what's inside me anymore. It rushes through me. Destroys my last line of defense, my control and I rush towards her. I press my lips against hers and she tastes soo good, like heaven. My hands are in her hair. My tongue is in her mouth, and she's slippery and wet and warm and I want her. All of her."
"Does she want you?"
Helena slowly twisted her head from side to side. "No. Yes. I don't know. I don't care. It's just a fucking dream, right?"
"If it makes you feel better." Harley couldn't help but smirk. Thankful Helena's eyes were closed and she can't see her reaction. "What happens next?"
"We're in her room. Only it's not her room. The walls are painted black. There are candles all around and it's like the floor is nothing but one giant bed. The sheets are blood red and silky. I lay her on the bed. I can see her hair splayed out. She stares up at me and I'm on her. Like I don't want to be denied anymore. I can feel her fingers in my hair, raking across my scalp, across my back, lashes me with her fingertips until she draws blood, pulling me closer towards her. I don't want to stop touching her. My hands are all over her. Ripping at her clothes. Groping her flesh. Her skin is so smooth and soft, the softest thing I've ever touched. I lick her skin. Her ear, her jaw. Leave saliva trails across her flesh. We're moaning, raw and guttural. Like animals. Our bodies slide across each other from all the sweat."
The words poured from Helena's mouth in a rising jagged crescendo. "I move lower. She's mine now. I mark her with my teeth. Can see the red bite marks rising on her flesh. She makes these whimpering mewling sounds every time I bite her. Sounds that send blazes of heat straight between my legs and I don 't stop because I love the sound she makes. The sound that says she mine now and she knows it. There are bite marks everywhere. Her arms. Her legs. Her breasts. Her neck. Everywhere she's mine. Every thing that belongs to me."
Harley watched, fascinated, as the sweat began to form on the brunette's brow. Her fingers curled into talon like claws digging into the armrests, the sound of leather slowly ripping.
"I spread her legs open. Her sex is flushed and red like a ripened peach dripping with dew begging to be eaten. The smell that says she wants me. I' ve smelled it like a million times before. But never from her. It's thick. She smells of perfume, sweat and sex. Just like I like it." Helena's lips curled into a slight snarl.
"Familiar but unlike anything I've ever smelled before because it's her. Barbara's scent. I dive between her legs. My tongue is on her lips, licking, teasing, suckling the fleshy lips of her opening. Tasting her. She tastes like heaven and hell. Like an angel falling because she's succumbed to sin and I am that sin. I run my tongue up and down the entire length of her pussy. I lick lower. Circle my tongue around her tight opening just to feel her squirm. And when I slide my tongue back up her clit is throbbing, pulsing under my tongue, like a tiny heart. I suck it into my mouth. Her body jolts as I nibble on her with my teeth. I slide a finger inside her. Can feel the muscles clenching around me, pulling me in. Her fingers are in my hair, scraping my scalp, yanking on my head, driving me deeper into her because there's no more denying. No more teasing, or flirting or hiding. she wants me.
"She wants me and I give myself to her. She screams 'more'. And her back's arching and she's writhing under me and fucking loving it because no one can make her feel like I can. No one can fuck her like I can. And I give her everything I am but it doesn't feel like it's enough. Like I want to clone myself so there isn't an inch of her that isn't being fucked. My lips are on her clit and my fingers are inside her. I'm tasting her and fucking her and I don't want to stop, even though she's close. She's soo fucking close. Her body's bucking and writhing. She's screaming something that sounds like my name but isn't. Her head's tossing back and forth like she's trying to will it not to happen because right now it all feels soo good. Fuck yeah, it feels good and I don't want it to stop. I don't ever wanna stop. Just wanna stay between her legs forever. But, I wanna make her come. I wanna hear her scream. Tell the world who makes her feel this way. Scream it to the world that she's fucking mine. So I take her to the edge and push her over. She's bucking like a wild horse ridden for the first time. Screaming my name. Screaming shit I can't understand. Not that I can really hear it anyway 'cuz her thighs are clamped around my head."
Helena paused. Her back slightly arched as the remaining tension within her quickly drained away. Harley took the moment to lick her lips and wipe the slight perspiration that had formed on her brow. Thankful Helena's eyes were still closed.
"She finally stops moving. I kiss my way up her body. Her skin is covered in sweat. The air around us is thick and hot. I hover over her, staring into her eyes and she has the most beautiful expression on her face. And then.." Helena's voice trailed off. Her eyes still closed. Harley, having regained her composure, sat patiently staring at her patient. Until the thick sexually charged tension in the air dissipated.
"And then what?"
Helena sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time. "And then, it ends."
"How does that make you feel?"
Helena's eyes snapped open. She stared at the woman incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me? How do you think I feel?"
Harley propped an elbow onto her armrest, leaning her chin onto a closed hand. "Well, despite the fact that it sounds like a really good dream and that you just might need a cigarette, you are ignoring the obvious."
"Oh yeah, and what's that?"
"You give Barbara the fuck of her life. And yet, she never returns the favor. The dream always ends the same. She is sated but you are not. You never will be."
Helena's eyes closed to angry slits on her face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means it's time you think about letting her go."
"Never!" Helena hissed.
"Why? You said so yourself. She holds a power over you and she doesn't even realize it. Why do you want to continue to let her have this power over you?"
Helena's mouth clamped shut, not wanting to admit what they both knew all too well. As she retreated, Harley pushed forward. Leaned in her chair towards Helena. "You need to stop torturing yourself with that which you can never have, and move towards that which you can."
"I don't want them." Helena exhaled softly. "I want her."
Harley sighed. "There's more to the world than Barbara Gordon."
"Yeah, doesn't change the fact that there's only one Barbara Gordon."
Harley snorted. "My God, you are just determined to uphold this tragically romantic ideal, aren't you? She holds a power over you and she doesn't even realize it. Why do you want to continue to let her have this power over you?"
Helena leaned back in her chair defeated. "Because, it's the only way she'll ever love me."
"Exactly. You need to stop torturing yourself with that which you can never have, and move towards what you can. Tell me this, why haven't you told Barbara about your little obsession with her?" Harley held back the smile as Helena's cheeks flared and the brunette turned her head. "Because you know she doesn't feel the same way. Isn't that right? She has her own happy little life, with her job, and Wade and everything else. And there you are on the sidelines waving your little flag screaming 'love me, love me, love me', doing anything and everything to make her happy. And, yet, she continues to ignore you." Harley leaned forward. Her eyes glowing. "Do you think Barbara knows you're in love with her?"
"No." Helena shook her head. "God no."
"Are you sure?" Her eyes were on fire, boring into Helena's soul, chipping away at the woman's resolve. "Let's face it Helena, she's a genius and it doesn't take one to figure out how you feel about her. Or is it easier to image that she's plagued with her own demons where she spends night after night having sweaty little dreams where she fucks you passionately rather than face the truth."
"Stop it."
Harley ignored her words, continued her verbal barrage. "Isn't it much more romantic to think she's torturing herself over her feelings for you as you do for her? Face it, Helena. Barbara Gordon doesn't love you. She never has and she never will."
"SHUT UP!!" Helena launched herself towards the doctor. Her face millimeters from Harley's. Her fingers dug into the armrests.
Harley, in turn, didn't flinch, didn't move. She had to check herself to keep from swooning at the raw, animalistic power emanating from her patient. It was nothing compared to Helena's eyes. They were violet, gold rimmed orbs surrounded by a sea of white. She'd always known Helena was an enigma. Had spent months chipping away at the tough exterior, never once had she imagined what could be underneath.
Harley clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "All this time, and we're still no where close to curbing that temper of yours."
Helena pushed herself away from Harley, her face twisted in disgust. She stomped towards the door, yanking her jacket off the coat rack. "This session is over."
"Yes it is." Harley unleashed the smile aching behind her face as the door slammed. "Until next time."
The Clock Tower was quiet. She could hear the wind gently breezing across the balcony. The soft hum of the Delphi, and Barbara's familiar fingers busily clacking away on her keyboard. Helena quieted padded to the far end of the room, immersing herself in the shadows.
"How long are you gonna keep lurking in the shadows?"
"Don't know." Helena shrugged. A slight smile on her lips as she walked towards the Delphi. "You're the only person who can do that, you know."
"That's only because I'm used to your silent routine. How was therapy?"
"The usual. One step forward, two steps back."
"I'm sorry." Barbara turned towards Helena. She reached out, placing her hand on Helena's forearm. It was something she had done since before the young woman came under her guardianship. Helena recoiled from the touch.
"Don't touch me!!" The words shrieked out of Helena's throat. Immediately, she could feel the guilt pressing down on her shoulders. Barbara stared back up at her, eyes wide and wounded, her hand retreating back towards her.
"I'm..I'm sorry." Barbara stammered. "I didn't.. I won't do it again."
"No!" Helena moved closer until she was kneeling before Barbara. She clasped Barbara's hand, pressed her palm against her face. "Don't ever stop touching me."
She curled into Barbara's embrace. Felt the strong, soft hands threading into her hair as she rested her face in Barbara's lap. It felt like home, like she was where she belonged. Maybe Barbara would never love her, but she couldn't fathom a world without Barbara's touch.
They remained that way for several moments. Helena kneeling her face buried in Barbara's lap, while Barbara gently stroked the brunette's hair. Helena wanted to feel guilty, for the hurt she caused her friend, for the thoughts constantly plaguing her mind. But, all that dissipated with the thought tickling the back of Helena's mind. Not so much a thought, but a scent. Barbara's scent. Helena inhaled again, deeper this time. There it was. Arousal. The muted scent of sex filtered through Barbara's jeans.
It caused a rippling sensation through Helena's body. Heat cascaded across her flesh, overrode any thoughts of decorum. She slowly twisted her head, until her face was buried in Barbara's crotch. Drew in deeper and longer breaths, inhaling the scent. She tilted her head up, her eyes changed in hue. Barbara stared down at her, face slightly flushed. Eyes wide and guilty like a child caught sticking their hand in the cookie jar.
"You want me." It was a question, a statement, a revelation.
"Yes." Barbara admitted guiltily.
"Say it."
"I want you."
Helena crashed their lips together. Bundled the woman into her arms rushing towards the bedroom, not wanting to give Barbara the chance to change her mind. Their hands tangled together. Limbs fighting each other for dominance as clothes were shed and thrown to the floor.
"Wait!" Barbara's grip was firm on Helena's wrist. Helena tilted her head until their eyes connected. "I want to touch you."
Barbara rolled Helena onto her back. She propped up on an arm. Helena whimpered as she felt the warm flesh of Barbara's hand on her face. The tips of Barbara's fingers were soft, slightly callused from years of typing. They burned a slow deliberate trail across Helena's face, deftly tracing her features. As the passed over her lips, Helena opened her mouth, let her tongue taste each digit as they passed over.
Slowly, leisurely, Barbara traced those fingers down. Down the line of Helena's neck. Playfully teased the flat plain of Helena's breastbone. Fingernails lazily circled an areola. Helena purred at the light scratching around her nipple. A purr turned into a growl as Barbara tugged the on the metal hoop. Twisted it until pleasure gave way to the slight bite of pain.
"You never told me about this." Barbara playfully grinned.
"I like to be full of surprises."
"And does it taste as good as it looks?"
"Well, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you."
Helena had never seen Barbara's lascivious look. Sure, she'd imagined it in dreams but it was nothing compared to the real thing. The cocked eyebrow, the half smirk and smoky green eyes caused Helena's breath to hitch in her throat and, if she were ever to think of them as such, her loins to quiver.
It was nothing compared to the sensation of wet lips surrounding her nipple. The sensation pushed Helena into a controlled squirm. The wet velvety sandpaper sensation, combined with suckling, pulling and biting. All while Barbara's hand drifted ever lower, fingernails scraped across Helena's stomach combined together sent a wave of thunderous quakes throughout her body. She was close and Barbara hadn't even touched her 'there' yet.
And Barbara knew it. She giggled softly. Danced her fingers through Helena's curls. Scratched and petted, teased Helena with the promise of contact as her fingers scratched ever lower and lower.
"Barbara, please." Helena whimpered. Barbara lifted her head, suction keeping the nipple in her mouth. She pulled harder on the metal ring until Helena hissed, finally letting the nipple pull out of her mouth with a wet pop.
"Tell me what you want." She whispered in a voice dripping with lust. Dipped her fingers lower, scratched the surface of Helena's lips with her fingernails.
Her mouth felt dry. She licked her lips, anything to get her vocal cords working again.
"I'll tell you what I want." Barbara's voice was like whiskey on a cold winter's night. "I want to make you scream my name. I want to make you come so hard your insides melt. Is that what you want?"
All Helena could do was nod her head. Barbara smiled. Planted her lips between Helena's breasts. Began another long, slow, leisurely journey down Helena's body. Helena propped herself up on her elbows. There was no way she was going to miss this.
She watched as crimson hair spilled delicately across golden tanned shoulders. The soft mane caressing her thighs in ticklish waves that sent shivers across Helena's skin.
Green eyes painted with smoky desire gazed back at her. Perfect lips curled into a devilish grin just as the strong jaw dipped below Helena's line of vision.
And then..
The phone rang.
A scream erupted from Helena's throat. Hands, balled into fists, pounded mercilessly onto the mattress before she rolled onto her side, yanking the phone off its receiver.
"What!" She hissed.
"Helena?" Harley's voice lilted into her ear.
"Who the fuck else were you expecting to answer MY phone?"
An irritated sigh passed through the receiver. "You haven't been to therapy in three weeks. We have a session scheduled for tomorrow. I didn't want to waste my time talking to thin air for an hour so, are you coming?"
A giggle erupted from her throat. Helena chuckled at the irony of Quinzel's unintentional entendre.
"Apparently not." She paused, her voice softening as she slumped onto the mattress. "I'll be there."
"Remember, Helena, there are always options." The line disconnected. Helena stared at the phone, Harley's words echoing in her head. She placed the phone onto her night stand, staring at the ceiling. Not quite sure which would kill her first - her subconscious coitus interruptus dreams of Barbara, or therapy.
The End