DISCLAIMER: Sadly, they are not mine. I would like to lay claim to the stunning Ashley Scott tho, if anyone's keeping score. All my earthly possessions for that one. MINE! Ahem. Anyway, they belong to people that AREN'T me, I'm making no money and only having fun. Please don't sue.
WARNING: If the idea of two women involved in a romantic relationship together disturbs you, run, run far far away and never look back. If it's illegal where you live, move quickly. Too young? Age quicker, it's fun here. Other than that, enter at your own risk, and enjoy.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, some of you wanted it. Hope you like it. It's kind of goofy in places though.
SPOILERS: The last 2 episodes. Sequel to Barbed Heart but hopefully it can stand on it's own.
PAIRING: Helena/Barbara

By Aeryn Sun

I'm instantly awake and a little disoriented until I realize I'm in Barbara's room, still holding her several hours after we fell asleep. She's still snuggled against my chest with my arms around her but I wonder what it was that woke me so suddenly. All my senses are on full alert. And then like tuning in a radio station and getting rid of the background static, I realize it's Barbara that woke me. Her heartbeat is way too fast, breathing's erratic. Things that normal people can't hear but thanks to my Meta abilities, I hear clearly in surround sound. And then she whimpers.

The sound alone nearly kills me. Such pain and loneliness. Barbara isn't supposed to sound like that, isn't supposed to FEEL that. Damn it. I don't know what she's dreaming about but she's got a grip on my shirt that's almost ripping it, twisting it around in her fists.

"Sorry..." she whispers so faintly that anyone but me wouldn't have heard it. "I'm sorry..." she repeats. I wonder if she's apologizing to Wade. His death is going to haunt us both for a long time. We both have our own burdens of guilt over `causing' his death however inadvertently. Me for telling Harley, or rather Dr. Quinzel all about him and Barbara for not loving him the way she feels she should have.

She shouldn't feel so guilty about that. She cared for him but in no way that I saw lead him on. Aside from the whole `I'm a superhero when I'm not grading English papers' thing, she was honest with him. What more could there have been? She never said to him `I have flowery warm fuzzies for you'. I think more than wanting to stay to protect the city from Clayface Jr. she turned down the trip to the Bahamas because she didn't want to give the wrong impression or get in any deeper. Her guilt just seems so needless.

Whereas I handed that psycho bitch Harley not only the keys to the Clocktower and the entire city of New Gotham but Wade's head on a platter with a note saying `kill me'. Ah guilt, the gift that keeps on giving. Ew.

She's getting more agitated so I brush her silky red hair away from her face and start whispering to calm her.

"Sshh, Barbara, wake up, you're having a nightmare," I say calmly. Her grip gets impossibly tighter. Man, if Dinah ever makes a crack about Barbara's upper body strength again, remind me to remember this moment, she's gonna choke me if I'm not careful.

"So sorry...don't leave..." she's crying now and it seems so strange to see the usually stoic Barbara so vulnerable. And I feel privileged to be here witnessing it, whether or not she's conscious to realize it. I bet the only reason her walls have cracked this much is that somewhere in her mind she knows she's safe. She's always safe with me. I'd die before I'd hurt her.

Which honestly is one thing I'm thankful for; that I can't remember fighting Barbara. I think those images would drive me insane.(ha I almost said `batty' how ironic). It's bad enough that my next memory after seeing Dr. Quinzel when I brought Gibson to her is my hands around Barbara's neck. It gives me shivers just to think about. And I saw the surveillance video of me punching Barbara right in the face. I cringed and flinched because there was nothing gentle in that blow. It's just luck and her ingrained training that kept her jaw from being broken.

"Noooo." she wails softly and it cuts right through me like nothing else ever will. She seems so young and vulnerable right now, all my protective instincts are riled up.

"Sshh, it's OK, Barbara, wake up," I try again to rouse her but she's deep in the nightmare and it's starting to scare me. I can hear her heartbeat like a drum pounding in my ears and I can't help thinking that that can't be healthy for her.

"Hel...please..." her voice cracks as she calls out for me. Me? "Stay..."

She's begging ME to stay? Was she apologizing to me earlier? Shit now I'm getting all confused. I have to wake her.

"Barbara," this time my voice is stronger, louder. I don't want to startle her but I need to break through the dream. She was so overtired that she's fallen into one of those really deep slumbers that take me personally forever to come out of. "Barbara, wake up, please."

Her breath catches for a second, and then her grip relaxes slightly. Her eyelids start to flutter and then she drags them open. I can tell that it's takes a supreme effort for her to do so. She still looks exhausted and not a little confused.

"Helena?" her voice is all scratchy with sleep and it sounds lovely to me. I can't help myself; I wipe away the tears that have fallen, brushing my fingertips down her cheek, tracing the bone and then her jaw line.

"You were having a nightmare," I say as I pull my hand away. I shoot it a dirty look obviously convinced that it's been possessed by someone else. I don't usually get touchy-feely like that. It just seemed like she needed the comfort as much as I did. And I hate seeing her cry.

"Oh," she says quietly. She then looks me in the eyes, searching for something and I'm suddenly uncomfortable under her gaze so my eyes skirt away to focus on the wall.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask as I try not to whimper while she moves her arm from my chest to drape around my waist. She obviously has no intention of moving anytime soon and that makes me obnoxiously happy. I'm glad she's comfortable enough with me to stay and not want to go back to her computers and lose herself in the streams of data right now. It's progress that she needs to make. That we both need to make.

"Not really," she says with a sigh and a shake of her head. But, see, I'm stubborn and there's an opening here so I'm going to throw myself against the crack and make it bigger.

"Please?" Gee, that almost sounded like I was begging. I need to watch my tone a bit better. "I mean, you...you asked me to stay. Where was I going?" She puts her other hand against my upper chest and starts to push away but my arms are locked around her back. If she wants to have a contest about who REALLY has more upper body strength, sure, I'll play but I think I have an unfair genetic advantage.

"Helena..." she says slowly. I think she's trying to warn me about something but I've never been good at listening to warnings or advice.

"Barbara..." I parrot in the same tone. She looks at me in surprise and this time I hold her gaze. I need her to know I'm serious about this. "Where was I going?" It's her turn to look away. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then opens them and focuses on my shoulder.

"You were angry...so you were leaving," she says haltingly. I smirk.

"That sounds true to form," I joke. And it's true; when I get mad I either break things, like people's bones, or I leave. Not something to be proud of and I'm not but it's what I do. I think it's a genetic flaw. "You shouldn't have been surprised."

She shakes her head and looks at me again, dark clouds of pain and doubt and the all-too familiar stirrings of self-loathing swirling in her green eyes. I say familiar because I see it almost every time I look in the mirror. It looks alien and out of place in Barbara's eyes. It's also rather frightening to see something tearing down her self-confidence like this.

"No, you were 'leaving' leaving," she says kind of sharply. "As in 'never coming back' leaving." I feel my brow knit together in confusion. I care so much for her, love her that I honestly can't see myself doing that, no matter what she may think.

"What? Why?" I ask needing to know. I'm getting a rare peek into the apparently tortured psyche of Barbara Gordon and maybe if I know what her fears are, I can make sure they never come to pass.

"You...I...you've never been able to deal with lies, Helena. Dishonesty, no matter how noble the intention behind it may be, always rubs you wrong. One day I'm going to push you too far. And one of those times, you won't come back."

"Clayface," I groan in understanding. I know I have my issues. Hell, I have an entire bookcase full of personal issues but, once I face one, I usually like to throw it away. I found out that Clayface killed my mother. I was enraged that no one (OK, Barbara) saw fit to tell me and I had to hear it from the horse's mouth. But I had my shot at revenge. I beat the snot out of him and put him along with his bratty son in Arkham. End of chapter. Barbara and I discussed her not telling me last night. End that chapter. Now I'd be totally satisfied with moving on to the next issue or kicking someone else's ass until or if the old lump of clay escapes again or something. Then I'll beat him up some more. But no, Barbara has to beat a dead horse with a rubber hose.

Why do people DO that? God, just let it go.

"I never thought it was worth telling you because I wasn't sure," she goes on. "I didn't see telling you as HELPING you. I took that decision away from you and didn't give you enough credit. No wonder you have trust issues, Helena." Her voice is full of self- recrimination and I hate the sound of it.

"Barbara," I start, sighing as her name passes my lips. "I told you that I was passed that. I hated that you did it but it's over with. It can't be changed, it can't be 'fixed' and I don't hold it against you. You were right in your own way. I was a super-angry kid and who knows what I would have done with the information if I'd had it earlier. Probably something stupid, but anyway..." She giggles slightly which was my intention but then gets serious again.

"I should have had faith in you, Hel. How can I expect you to put your faith and trust in me if I'm not willing to do that same thing?" OK, I really don't have an argument for that one.

"Just don't do it again," I shrug. Well, I guess that works. "Trust me and we'll call it even." I give her a huge smile to show that there's honestly no hard feelings and she smirks back at me, that lopsided smile that I love to see.

"I trust you, Helena, otherwise you wouldn't be in my bed," she laughs as I blush. She's not exactly shutting down so much as taking an infrequent shot at levity. I think I'll go with it, see where I land.

"What? I'm mature," I protest. "I can keep my hands to myself." Oh that is SUCH a lie! They're itching to touch her but, I have control. Yup, control.

"Right," she scoffs. "But I won't." And suddenly she's doing something she hasn't done in ages. She's tickling me! And with one arm trapped under her I can't fend her off.

I screech and try to twist away but she won't let me. Somewhere in my head a part of me thinks that if it got out that the big bad Huntress was ticklish it would be bad for my image.

"Stop! You meanie!"

"This is for the `Batmobile into the Batcave' remark last night!" she declares while tears stream down my face. "I rode a bike!"

"OK! OK! I got it! A bike!" I howl. She stops for a second. "Did it have a little white basket on the front?" I can't help myself from saying it.

"Oh, you are SO going to get it for that one!" She attacks me again and we roll around a bit.

"What the Hell are you two doing?" Dinah's confused voice cuts through my laughter and we both look up to see the teen standing confused in the doorway in her pajamas. She takes a good look at the two of us before her eyes grow wide and then she blushes.

"I'll just...uh...leave now," she stammers and slams the door behind her. Barbara looks at me perplexed.

"What got into her?" she asks. I take a breather and then a good look at the way we've tangled ourselves together. Yeah, that would explain it.

"Um, take a look at us," I say shyly. Barbara's eyes travel down our intertwined bodies and now it's her turn to blush. Granted I did most of the twisting since Barbara can't use her legs but still, we're all pretzely and I've somehow ended up on top. Ohh nice.

"Oh." she says quietly. "Dinah, you have a dirty mind!" she yells through the closed door. She looks back at me. "Teens." I simply nod, suddenly mute aside from my occasional hiccup.

"Aw, Huntress has the hiccups," she teases, stroking my cheek. My eyes close. My senses are so full of Barbara right now, her scent, her feel, everything that I feel like I'm overloading. My blood is on fire and now it's MY heart I hear hammering loudly.

"Open your eyes, Helena," she says, her voice is oddly smooth and low. But I can't. I just know that instead of blue, my eyes will be feral and it'll give me away. I stay perfectly still and start taking deep breaths to calm my more `animalistic' side. It's screaming for me to just claim Barbara as mine but I can't do that. Above everything else, I am human.

"It was nice to hear you laugh like that again," she keeps talking, I think sensing my sudden unease and trying to help. Another reason I love her so much; she reads me so well. Which probably means that my `secret' isn't really a secret. But at least she respects me enough not to patronize me like some `crushing' child.

"I hear it far too infrequently," she says. "Please open your eyes so that I can look at you." Oohhhhhhhhh crap on a stick. I open my eyes knowing that they're still feral but she doesn't look surprised. She stares back at me with those deep pools of green and traces my eyebrows.

"Are you upset?" she asks carefully. I flop down onto the bed next to her. Upset? No. Horny? Hell yes. Shit shit shit shit shit.

"Nah," I manage although my voice is a tad rough and it sounded like a growl.

"OK, I wanted to make sure I hadn't done something to upset you," she says quietly. I turn on my side to face her.

"What could you have possibly done, Barbara?" She glances at me and shrugs.

"I don't know. I know you don't always like to be touched. I just was afraid I'd crossed the line or something," she explains. Jesus have I become THAT standoffish to her that she thinks she can't even touch me?

"No, you didn't. I was having fun until Dinah barged in," I answer honestly. "Touch me anytime." Oh my God. I did NOT just say that. Oh, judging by that red eyebrow being arched my way, I think I did.


Open mouth, insert boot. Mom would be SO proud. `Sarcasm'

"You just talk out of your ass sometimes, don't you?" she laughs. I grab a pillow and hold it over my face.

"Apparently," I mumble. "Please just kill me." She pulls the pillow away and I open my eyes to see her hovering right above me.


"No, you're much more amusing alive," she says smiling.

"Glad I can provide you with amusement," I huff, trying to ignore how close her lips are. Just an inch or so and.

I don't know who moved but her lips are against mine and oh my God I'm dying. Right here, right now. She's so soft and she tastes like vanilla. My hands are suddenly full of her hair, pulling her closer as I lick her bottom lip. She lets me in with a moan that I drink in hungrily.

Oh my God, I'm kissing Barbara! And oh my God is she GOOD at it!

An instant and an eternity pass before we separate. Her eyes are slightly glossy and she's licking her lips. She looks directly at me and I see so much in her eyes. For just an instant I SEE Barbara Gordon. Then I see her walls snap into place with a painful ferocity. I whimper in pain at the sight.

"Helena.?" I bite my lip nervously.


Oh craaaaaaaaaaaaap.

The End

Sequel Fighting the Right

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