Poseidon
Modern Mythology #9
by maven
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The characters of Birds of Prey are the property of Warner
Bros. and DC Comics, all other characters are the property of DC Comics.
RATING:
PG/PG13. Just two people talking. A few bad words.
CONTINUITY
and SPOILERS: This is an Alternative Universe as it’s a blend of the Birds of
Prey television show and a variety of DC comic books, particularity The Killing
Joke and the Batman titles between 1983 and 1991. There will be spoilers for
all 13 episodes of the series now that I’ve seen them all.
CREDIT
WHERE CREDIT IS DUE: We'll boil it down to BG, Warped and Nik as being the
chief prods to this particular muse.
SERIES NOTES:
1) Imagine my surprise when it turns out that Gabby appeared in two episodes
and was mentioned in (so far as I can remember) one other. So this Gabby is
pretty much made up from whole cloth. Plaid, I think. Greens and browns and
dull yellowy-gold. Nothing too garish, a hunting tartan rather than a piper's.
2) Timing. Right. Darned if I know. I'm going with the events of the final
episode happened near the end of Dinah and Gabby's junior year (grade 11 for us
Canucks) and that Policy and Procedure happened at least six months after that.
Modern Mythology, therefore, starts in the middle of their final (senior, grade
12, 12th grade, year 12, whatever) year. I think. Kind of hazy.
3a) USB drives are not as
robust as you might want them to be.
3b) 2) Backups are good. You all
should back up something right now. 3c)
3) Yeah, really stretching it to fit Poseidon in. Just go with it, please. 3d) A bit episodic, even for me.
FEEDBACK,
COMMENTS AND FLAMES: Email at maven369@sympatico.ca
It had become a
bit of a tradition. To meet at the
Clock Tower after classes or work and before patrol. Splitting the time between homework, research and preparation and
taking turns preparing the pre-patrol meal.
Lately it had
been, Gabby thought, the only real time she spent with Dinah.
"It'll be
fun," Dinah said. She'd tried many
openings in the past two hours. 'Fun'
was a new strategy. Educational had
bombed.
"No one, on
the face of this planet nor any other, has ever described all my relatives
under one roof as 'fun'," Gabby replied firmly, cutting vegetable lasagna
into small squares on the plate next to hers.
"Thirty people, most of them old.
Most of them staring at you in disapproval, muttering to each other in
Yiddish and German and tsk-tsking.
Kyle, does that sound like fun?"
"Treats?"
Gabby frowned,
glancing at Helena for confirmation of the translation.
"Treats. Is there food?" Helena said, spearing a
square of lasagna off her own plate, raising it slowly, watching Kyle. "Fork in left hand, knife in right for stabbing,"
she demonstrating to him as he picked up his utensils.
Nodding Kyle began
spearing the cubes, his unused knife under his right hand.
"Food
shouldn't be the sole factor," Gabby protested.
"No. But a deciding one in my book," Helena
said.
"Did the Dioskouroi put you up to this?" Gabby asked Dinah.
"Cas or Pol
might have mentioned it," Dinah admitted.
"And your Aunt Ruth called."
Gabby looked up
sharply. "Aunt Ruth? The one who told me I was an abomination
when I came out?"
"Maybe she
mellowed?" Dinah asked hesitantly, frowning as Gabby stabbed her lasagna
hard enough to make a dull thud against the plate. "Please?" she added.
"It's family."
Gabby looked up,
groaning at the pout. "Don't play
the orphan card, Dinah. That's so
unfair."
"Kyle, if
you're done you're excused," Helena said.
"And tell your Mama her supper's getting cold."
"Sorry,"
Gabby said after Kyle had bolted toward the Delphi, cape of his Superman
pajamas flying. "Some of the
family weren't very accepting. They
seemed to think I was doing this to punish my folks for Michael."
"That's
stupid," Dinah said as Barbara approached, setting the handful of file
folders onto the table by her plate.
"People act
weird," Helena said with a slight smile.
"You never know. My mom was
okay about it. Said she never expected
me to take the easy way in anything."
Dinah
frowned. "I don't know about
mine. If she'd have been cool with it
or not."
"Would have
been pretty hypocritical of her to object," Gabby muttered to her plate.
"What do you
mean?" Dinah asked.
Startled Gabby looked
up, taking in Dinah and Helena's puzzled look and Barbara's closed
expression. "I mean, she pretty
much washed her hands of you when you ran away. You shouldn't worry about her giving you grief about us. You, ah, ready to brief us, Barbara?"
"No, I'm
waiting for some more searches and a phone call," Barbara said. "Helena, could I see you in the
training room."
"Of course,
Red," Helena said as she stood, shrugging slightly at Dinah's raised
eyebrow.
"Usually Helena's
the one dragging Barbara to the training room while the search engines chug
away," Gabby said, trying to break the sudden silence with anything but
plans for Purim.
"Yeah,"
Dinah said. "Except they're not
going there to make out."
"Oh?"
Gabby squeaked, almost choking on the food.
"No. Barbara's going to tell Helena that she
slept with my mother."
+++++
"Carolyn
Black Canary Lance!"
"Helena..."
Barbara said, pointing to the pommel horse beside Helena. Rolling her eyes Helena took several steps
away from the apparatus, stopping in the middle of the training mat.
"You...
Carolyn. And you. You and Carolyn the Black fucking Canary
Lance?"
"I told you
that I'd been with a woman before," Barbara said firmly. "Didn't I?" she added, voice suddenly
doubtful.
"You alluded
to the possibility. Hinted. Suggested.
You certainly didn't confirm the reality of fucking Carolyn Lance!"
Helena said, punctuating the air with stabs of her forefinger before
frowning. "Or Black Canary. Or both of them," she added before
waving it off. "You made it sound,
I dunno, like it was a 'there was this one time at band camp' kind of
thing."
"Debate
camp."
Helena sat
abruptly, thumping to the mat without her customary grace. "It happened in debate camp too?"
she whispered. "Wait... there's a
debate camp?"
"No. Yes.
But... no," Barbara said, pushing her fingers through her
hair. "I went to debate camp, not
band camp. Nothing happened at debate
camp.
"Okay,"
Helena said, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "And you never told me before
because?"
"And you've
told me about all of your past lovers?" Barbara snapped.
"Yes,"
Helena said firmly before honesty forced her to amend. "Any that mattered I did. Anyone you knew. Anybody whose kid is sitting at our kitchen table," Helena
said voice rising.
Barbara
sighed. "It happened a long, long
time ago. And before you and I were
together it wasn't any of your business and she wasn't around. And then was Dinah here and Carolyn was dead
and we were together. And, suddenly, it
was much more complicated."
"And we
otherwise lead uncomplicated lives," Helena muttered to herself. "Why tell me now?"
"Gabby
obviously knows and..."
"Therefore I
should," Helena finished, hugging her knees tightly. "Wonder if Dinah does?"
+++++
"You
know?" Gabby said. "I mean, what? I don't know what you're talking
about."
"It's
okay," Dinah smiled. "You got
it from my, ah, off line memory?"
"You have no
idea how linked superpowers and hormones are," Gabby muttered before
blushing bright red. "Uh,
actually, you do. Should I have
mentioned this before?"
Dinah
shuddered. "God, no."
"But if you
knew..."
"It wasn't a
real memory, at least not Technicolor, surround sound memory. More like the absence of a memory."
"I don't get
it."
"There was
always this memory, one about my mom and Barbara, and it's on the tip of my
tongue but it was like there was this giant titanium box with a granite boulder
the size of an elephant on top. Obviously
not a memory I should access, right?
What could it be other than..." she shuddered again, clearly unable
to put it to words.
"Maybe they
accidentally killed some guy and dumped the body in the bay?"
Dinah frowned,
working the scenario over. "No,"
she finally said, "but thanks for trying."
+++++
"What's
really bothering you?" Barbara asked, pushing the chair onto the training
mat and maneuvering slowly until she was behind Helena.
"I can't
compete with Carolyn. I mean, it's
worse than Wade or Dick. She's
both."
Barbara nodded,
paused and then shook her head.
"You lost me."
Helena
sighed. "How do I compete with a
ghost? Or someone who knew you
when..."
"When what,
Hel?" Barbara asked, suppressing a
sigh when Helena only shrugged and shook her head. After a few seconds she too sighed, leaning forward to knead
Helena's shoulders and feeling them slowly relax as Helena began to lean into
the touch. "How much longer, Hel?" she asked after a few minutes.
"Longer?"
"Until your
back stops arching and you stop spitting and start being curious."
Helena snorted,
tilting her head back so she could see Barbara's smile. "Ya think?"
"I
know," Barbara said, bending forward to kiss the top of Helena's
head. "I know you."
"I guess you
do," Helena said, twisting onto her knees to face Barbara. She kneeled silently for several moments,
searching for something in Barbara's face before a sudden grin erupted.
"So, that Canary Cry thing... only in combat?"
Laughing Barbara felt
herself being lifted and falling against Helena onto the mat, strong hands
straightening her legs and assisting her in adjusting her body to lie on the
one below it.
"What are you
suggesting?"
"Just asking
if safe sex had to include ear plugs."
"You
are..." Barbara paused.
"Incorrigible. Someone who
didn't know you better would get the impression that all you think about is
sex."
"Strange. Most people who do know me think that."
Barbara smiled
back, feeling one hand cupping her head, thumb stroking behind her ear, fingers
twined in her hair as another hand trailed up and down her spine, the sensation
flickering on and off as it crossed the line of reaction.
"How did this
happen?" Barbara asked, gesturing with her one hand to indicated their position.
"You and
me. It just happens. Law of nature," Helena said.
"Ah, hate to
disturb you," said Dinah from the door.
"Really, really hate to disturb you. But the Delphi is going ping and Dick Grayson is on the
phone."
"Back to
work?" Helena asked.
"Back to
work," Barbara confirmed.
+++++
At night, with
only the Superman nightlight for illumination, the red and blue were muted; the
primary colours painting the walls not quite so garish. Superman meets NASCAR via the National
League was how Barbara described it.
Smiling at the
memory Helena knelt front of the plastic racecar toddler bed and pulled the
Cubs quilt up from where Kyle had kicked it in his sleep. Sighing slightly he opened his eyes briefly,
the irises flashing red briefly as they adjusted to the dim light before
drifting closed again.
A shadow passed
along the wall as someone obstructed the doorway.
"There is no
competition."
Fluidly Helena
rose, crossing the room, not stopping until she was kneeling on the chair.
"Yes, there
is. It's my nature. Even when I've won and the prize is right
here," she said, hugging Barbara tight, "or sleeping peacefully. It's just..."
Barbara waited,
rubbing the small of Helena back.
"Sometimes,"
Helena said after a long pause.
"You tell stories about back in the day. And you sound so alive.
And it's not like you don't find being Oracle satisfying and fulfilling
and that I don't know how much you love Ky and me because you do. You show it all the time in your own unique
way. It's just, when you talk about
being Batgirl, I realize how much you miss it.
And Richard and Carolyn are all part of that life that I never
knew. They knew Batgirl and I never
did. So I'm jealous of these ghosts and
I know its stupid and I know I should be better at explaining this or figuring
it out so it doesn't drive me crazy.
But I'm not and sometimes it does."
"If it's any
consolation it drives me crazy too sometimes."
"Yeah, a
little bit better."
"We
okay?"
"Oh,"
Helena said, clearly surprised.
"Yeah. Of course we
are."
"Good,"
Barbara said. "Although another
day I might object to be referred to as a prize," she added, pushing
Helena off the chair and turning it toward the kitchen.
"After a fun
game of whack-a-thug you get a cute and cuddly..."
"Stop
it."
"So, what
does Richard need help with?" Helena asked as they rejoined Dinah and
Gabby at the table.
"A shipment
of military grade weapons was hijacked in transit to the National Guard armory
in Bludhaven. Every indication is that they're
to be shipped out of the country..."
"Ah, no. Don't tell me," groaned Helena.
"Port Gotham,
local nexus point of contraband and illicit goods," Dinah intoned, voice
somewhere between the baritone and basso-profundo of a radio announcer.
Barbara ignored
both interruptions. "Out of the
country through Gotham's port."
"She hates
the docks," Gabby said to Dinah, as if sharing a state secret.
"I hate the
docks," Helena said to Barbara.
"And you know
why?" Dinah asked Gabby.
"Leather,"
Gabby said, sighing deeply
"Because,"
Helena said, glaring briefly at Dinah and Gabby, "I always end up in the
harbour and it takes weeks to dry out the leather properly."
"It's like
the harbour is a giant Huntress magnet."
"Or at least
a leather magnet."
"You'll just
be checking out warehouses," Barbara said, raising her voice and using a
look usually reserved for ninth graders.
"I have a list starting with most likely..."
"Meaning
closest to the water," Helena muttered.
"Ones based
on past crime statistics and anomalous power consumption," Barbara
continued firmly. "The list is in
the mobile," she added to Gabby.
"If I have to
dive," Helena said to Barbara, arms crossed, "you have to pay for the
dry cleaning."
"Out."
"Dinah, you're
falling asleep. The TA will notice if
you snore."
With an almost
visible effort Dinah sat straighter, stared intently at the professor until the
class was finally over and she could sag into her chair. A quick touch and she opened her eyes to see
Gabby sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring down at her in concern. The dim light of The Place a calming
contrast to the harsh lighting of the lecture room.
"Sorry. Really tired and a bit of a headache."
"Another
one? Skip your next class. Take a nap."
"Can't. There's a quiz. Supposed to be a surprise but I caught it when I handed in my
paper yesterday."
"Right. Call in sick to work?"
"No. The higher I score in the evaluation the
more likely I'll get into Doctor Cartwright's program next year."
"Patrol?"
Dinah merely shook
her head. "I'll be fine."
"You're
burning the candle at all four ends, you know that. Skip patrol. Helena and I
can..."
"Last night
was a bust. Finding the guns is
important."
Gabby nodded,
frowning and opening her mouth as if to speak several times before Dinah simply
pulled her down to lie beside her. "Fortress of solitude."
"For twenty
minutes. Then we have to scoot to
class. You rest. I'll watch the real world," Gabby said,
half her attention on the sleeping Dinah in the security of their hide away and
the rest watching the empty classroom.
"Next on the
tour, Acme Ware Number Five," Gabby said as she parked in the mouth of a
nearby alley. Twisting she adjusted the
laptop on the passenger seat beside her.
"Owned by Acme Shipping and operated by Acme Warehousing this
handyman's fixer-upper is centrally located and an easy commute for the young
smuggling couple. It comes fully
furnished with rocket rollerskates, circus cannons and large paper
bull's-eyes."
"I totally
enjoy Robin's briefings better than Oracle's," Helena said. "We're in position. Looks dark at the moment."
"Energy
consumption dips at seven pm when the last shift leaves but it doesn't zero
out. There's also an illegal cable TV
system which is currently on."
"Night
guard," Dinah said.
"With no
morals. Stealing television
signal," Helena added.
"Clearly justifiable cause to force an entry and investigate. Hey, you okay?"
"What's
wrong?" Gabby and Barbara asked simultaneously.
"I'm
fine. Just lifting Huntress to a
window."
"Very wobbly,
I might add."
"Maybe you
should lose some weight?"
"Perhaps I do
need some more exercise. Bit more
sparring with my partner?"
"Reduction. Bit less Ben and Jerry's Half Baked ice
cream."
"I'm tracing
the cable in the building. Bit too much
for just illegal cable," Barbara said.
"GPS shows no
emergency or police in the vicinity.
Next scheduled patrol is at least fifteen minutes," Gabby reported,
flipping through several windows.
"Nearest 24 hour donut shop is four blocks. My treat when this one is finished."
"Hot..."
Helena asked, interrupting herself with a sharp crack of snapping metal,
"chocolate?"
"Sure, but
low-fat donuts from what Canary says.
Any sign of alarms?"
"Everyone's a
comedian," Helena muttered.
"No wires on the window frame."
"No phone
calls out," Barbara reported.
"So if there was an alarm it's internal."
"Wonderful,"
Helena said, voice soft over the comms.
"How about a
hand?"
"It'd be so
much easier if you could fly."
"Then I
wouldn't need you at all."
"Why can't
you fly?"
"Oracle...
explain to Huntress. Again."
"Huntress,"
Barbara said, her tone one of exaggerated patience, "The reason Canary
can't fly is... because she can't."
"Because she
can't? You're going to have to come up
with a better reas... light in an office, ground floor."
"I take the
high road?" Dinah asked.
"And I'll
take the ground floor," Helena said, a slight rush of air and soft thud
matching her words. "Lotta crates
here. None thoughtfully stenciled with
the US Army or 'guns here' although there's something..." The soft grind of wood on wood came over the
comms. "Okay. This is a blast from the past. Semi circle with a line through it."
"Like a
trident?" Gabby asked. "This
would be easier if you both used the damn glasses."
"Fine." There was a pause before a small monitor lit
up, its screen showing the interior of the warehouse rather than the pocket of
Helena's duster. The picture was, of
course, sideways and knee level and went blank after a quick shot of the symbol
as the camera-glasses were returned to Helena's pocket.
"Looks
similar," Dinah confirmed, as a picture formed on the third monitor. "There's more crates with the symbol up
here. It looks a lot like that business
card thing the fight club used but we shut him down."
"Very
down," Helena agreed. "Three
months in traction shut down."
"Malcom's
organization came out of nowhere with a fully developed infrastructure. Just because we couldn't find evidence of a
backer doesn't mean there wasn't one."
"Wonderful,"
Helena muttered.
"Don't sweat
it," Dinah said. "Green
Scorpion of Death."
"Doom. It was 'of Doom'."
"I thought it
was 'of Death'?"
"You're just
jealous you didn't get a fight club nick name," Helena said. "Crap, found the guard. Hey, cable police, drop the gun..."
Gabby wasn't sure
who yelled first, the shock repeating in her mind and earpiece. She grabbed the trauma kit from between the
seats, leaping from the Hummer and heading to the last position marked on the
GPS, guided by the panic beacon in her mind's eye.
"Canary,
Huntress, status?" Barbara said over the comms, voice eerily calm.
"Almost
there, Oracle," Gabby said, a modified moving front kick making short work
of the lock and hasp on the side door.
"Robin. You aren't supposed…"
"Yeah, yeah,
fire me later. Found them," Gabby
answered, staring at the scene before her:
Helena sprawled on the floor, Dinah crouched beside her, the unconscious
security guard suspended upside down pressed against a wall.
Dinah looked up,
hand rising defensively before relaxing, the mental call silencing, as Gabby
stepped fully into view. Nodding briefly
she reached back down, picking up the dropped utility knife and slicing into
the leather pants.
"I think it's
the femoral," Dinah said.
"Pressure,"
Gabby said, peering over the top of her glasses
"Yes but I'm
not..." Dinah began, looking up in panic.
"I can't stop it. Damn
metapowers, she's trying to heal the leg by sending more blood."
"Oracle, I
need a feed of the human circulatory system, centered on the upper leg,"
Gabby said.
"Why..."
Oracle began, only to interrupt herself.
"Coming. Do you need
assistance?"
"Just a
moment," Gabby said, cutting vocals.
"Dinah..." she said, reaching across Helena's body to take
Dinah's hand. "Take the info. Magic fingers. We've practiced this."
Gabby could feel
the change, hear Dinah's breathing shift and slow. Looking around she could see the in layers; the circulatory
system on the digital display superimposed on the reality of the warehouse
superimposed on the safety of Our Place and the faceless horde watching through
the translucent walls.
"Found
it," Dinah murmured. "I can
feel the resistance, must be the bleeding.
Okay…" Silently Gabby
waited, watching as the bleeding slowed.
"I think I have most of them."
"Can you hold
them?"
"Report!"
"Yeah, not
too long though. You take her top, I've
got the rest."
"Oracle, I
need the fastest route to the closest hospital and the lights controlled."
"Acknowledged,"
Oracle snapped. "Damn it…"
"It looks
worse than it is but we need a hospital," Gabby said, linking her arms under
Helena's and lifting. Beside her Dinah
stood, face intent as Helena floated like some magician's trick beside
her. "We'll meet you at the
hospital."
+++++
The automatic
crash doors to the emergency department barely had time to open before the chair
was through, Reese a few steps behind.
"Where is
she?" Barbara demanded, turning toward Gabby and Dinah in the waiting area
rather than trying to break through the crowd of people at the admittance desk.
"She's fine
and out of surgery," Gabby said quietly.
They had staked out a set of three chairs, Dinah curled up asleep on two
of them while Gabby stroked her hair.
"She lost a lot of blood and messed up some muscle and maybe broke
a bone. They're taking her back to
x-ray now."
Tension cut
Barbara collapsed into her chair, one hand shielding her reaction. Behind her Reese merely nodded. "Told you," he muttered, more to
himself than the others. "Ah,
looks like I didn't have to run those three red lights."
"Thanks,
Reese."
Reese waved the
thanks off. "X-ray, huh? You three look done in. Caffeine and sugar?"
"That'd be
great. Best stuff is in the third floor
vending machines."
"Right. I'll… just get some then," he
agreed. Nodding Gabby closed her eyes.
"You two look
awful."
Gabby opened one
eye, smiling. "Long day. D's drained. Fell asleep as soon as the trauma people took over."
"Why did you
ask for the circulatory information?
Keep me busy?"
Both eyes snapped
open. "Applied pressure wasn't
working so Dinah tried to find the arteries and stuff to pinch them off but she
couldn't find them. So we
linked..."
"Linked?"
Gabby nodded,
flustered. "Ah, what do you know
about Dinah and me and her powers?"
"Is there
something special I should know?"
"She's been
in your head? You've been in the
dreamscape?" Barbara nodded. "When she goes in my head it's always
the same setting; we call it 'Our Place'.
A couple of months ago she came home with a bad headache so she dozed in
there, in the dream land, while I read and when she woke up she knew what I'd
read. So we've been practicing
that."
Barbara pushes up
glasses to rub bridge of nose.
"This is all new to me.
Sort of. She hasn't... What is...you're going to sit down and
explain this all to me. Both of
you. The fine control telekinetics,
you've been practicing that as well?"
"Yeah,"
Gabby muttered, staring at the exit sign over Barbara's left shoulder in a vain
attempt to stop the blush. "Not
tactically, though. More like... recreationally."
"Oh."
Barbara said. "Oh. I, uh, right. Don't feel the need to explain that in detail. General nonspecific vague is fine."
Dinah stirred,
whimpering as if in pain and then settling as Gabby resumed stroking her hair.
"She's been
having headaches, migraines. I asked
her to talk to you about it but she didn't, did she?"
"No,"
Barbara said, smiling sympathetically at Gabby's expression, "but she told
you she did."
Gabby sighs. "Yeah.
Sort of. She kinda danced around
it. Idiot."
"Hey. Chocolate bars, cokes and something they
claim is coffee."
"Thanks,
Reese," Barbara said, reaching for a tin of cola, holding it briefly
against her forehead before opening it.
"I nearly
forgot," Gabby said, "the guard?"
"Anonymous
911 call about shots fired," Reese answered. "The uniforms were about 15 minutes away, saw the forced
door and entered to find one unconscious guard, one unregistered fire arm, one
pool of blood and a large supply of illegal goods."
"We get our
guns?"
"Your
guns?" Reese asked mildly.
"No, at least
not all of them," Barbara said to Gabby before turning to Reese. "Long story and I'll explain it
tomorrow morning."
"Oh,
yeah," Reese agreed, turning his attention to Gabby. "Chocolate fudge power bar?"
"Dinah, wake
up, hun. Reese and Barbara are here and
you're drooling."
"Dunwanna."
"Reese has
chocolate and coffee from the third floor vending machines."
"Okay,"
Dinah groggy, sits up holds out hands, eyes half closed. "When did you guys get here?"
"About five
minutes."
"Barbara's
using her mom face on me."
"You're in
trouble missy," Gabby confirmed.
"And not just with Barbara."
"Great,"
Dinah groaned. "As soon as my head
stops..."
Silently Gabby
pressed some tablets into her hand, mouthing the word 'tomorrow' to Barbara.
"Helena out
yet?"
"Not..."
"Ms
Kyle!"
"Yet,"
Barbara finished, turning to the sound of running feet as a nurse chased Helena
into the waiting area.
"You said I
had to take a wheel chair out, not that you had to push it."
"I told you,
Nurse Pervis, you must always use exact words with Helena. Small, hard to confuse words."
"Ah, Doc, you
make me sound like I ignore you," Helena said, pulling back to pop a
wheelie and grinning before turning to Barbara. "Check out the wheels, not as snazzy as yours. I told them you had Flintstone Bandages in
our first aid kit and promised to be good if I get to go home."
Barbara stared at
her, silent as Helena dropped down and slowly wheeled forward, bringing the two
chairs side by side. Focusing on
Barbara alone she slid her hand to cup side of Barbara head, slowly kissing her
for a long moment before ending, resting forehead to forehead.
"I should
have told the bad guy I was with the phone cops, right?"
"You scared
me," Barbara whispered.
"I scared me,
too."
"Next time
tell them you're a phone cop."
"Next time
I'll jump in the bay."
"Ahem."
"Dr.
Dennison," Barbara said, looking up.
"Thank you."
"Pshaw,
thanks for the heads up. Love seeing
how my handiwork holds up so I took the liberty of checking out that old knee
injury of Helena's. Damn, I do good
work."
"And
this?" Barbara asked, gesturing to the swath of white bandages encasing
most of Helena's thigh. "
"The trauma
surgeon did an excellent job and, from an orthopedics point of view, I didn't see
much need to get my hands dirty.
There's damage, of course, but I expect a full recovery. Normally she'd be here for a few days but
she insisted on a... Mind you, your
following instructions would be good."
"I followed
instructions last time!"
"I told you
three weeks."
"Oh, you know
how hard it is to decipher doctor handwriting, Doc. I thought it said days. I
stayed off the uneven bars for three whole days. Give or take a few hours."
"Stay off the
leg for at least a week," Dennison said slowly. "That's seven days.
168 hours. Report to the physio
department at the end of that time for a rehabilitation regime. Pick up the prescriptions for pain meds and
dressings when you check out of here.
No weight on it before then, young lady, or you void the warranty. Plus, it might fall off. And you," he added pointing to Barbara.
"I'm late for
my annual assessment."
"Only by two
years."
"It doesn't
change," Barbara says with a forced smile and a shrug. "And I don't want to waste your
time."
"Then I'll
bill your insurance company and we'll drink coffee and gossip about trouble
here," he said, nodding at Helena.
"Sounds
suspiciously like insurance fraud."
"When it's
just desperation. Don't make me beg or
face criminal investigation, Barbara.
Come in for your eval."
"Fine. I'll call your office to make an
appointment."
"Actually, I
did that for you; same day as Helena's.
Here you go," handing her an appointment card. "Be there. My nurse has instructions not to reschedule you."
"This isn't
Saturday?"
"No. But you don't have a class until one and I'm
skipping mine."
"Slacker."
"That's
me."
"Mmmm,"
Dinah, mumbled, snuggling backwards and sighing as Gabby pulled her even
closer. "You mad at me?"
"Pretty
much," Gabby whispered.
"Barbara
too?"
"Pretty
much."
"Anyone not
mad?"
"Let me
think," Gabby said, rubbing her face in Dinah's hair. "No, can't think of anyone at the
moment."
"I'm
sorry."
"It's your
head, Dinah, it's important. You can't
hide stuff like this."
"Okay. Guess I can expect getting hooked up to the
machine a bunch."
"Oh,
yeah. Definitely. Barbara's got the diode contact gel in the
fridge right now."
"But,"
Dinah said, twisting onto her back to look at Gabby. "We're still going to your folks on the weekend?"
"Right, I get
to listen to the muttered Yiddish about bringing the shiksa while you get to
smile blankly and eat hamentaschen.
Perfect example of true love."
"Even though
you're mad."
"Even
though."
"No TK
tonight?"
"You got
it."
"Where is the
damn thing?"
"Third
icon…"
"Don't tell
me!"
"But you
asked!"
"I was
talking to myself."
"Ah…
Huntress? Oracle? If whoever is running the Delphi at the
moment could tell me if there's an alarm system I'd appreciate it."
"Working on
it, Canary," Helena snapped.
"I can just
TK it..."
"No,"
chorused three voices firmly.
"Not until we
have the time to run tests. No
TK," Barbara continued.
"Almost got
it," Helena said, reaching for the mouse and instead sending it sliding
from the desk. With a lunge she grabbed
for it, the armrest of the wheel chair catching her below the ribs and knocking
her breath out.
"God damn it
I hate this thing!"
"Yeah."
Ice water for
blood, Helena turned to Barbara, her breath catching at the lack of emotion in
Barbara's face. After a few seconds
Barbara grimaced, a smile malformed.
"You, ah,
forget. Go to stand. Reach for
something but you're not tall enough anymore.
Turn and there's this dead weight.
You, ah… you get use to it.
Eventually."
"Eventually?"
Helena whispered.
"No,
never," Barbara said, voice quiet and dead. "Or at least not yet," she added. Silently she reached across Helena, using
the cable to retrieve the mouse.
"Now you know why I won't go wireless mouse or keyboard. They're waiting for you. Third icon, top row."
"Barbara,"
Helena whispered again, voice hoarse.
"Not
now. They need you. And this can wait."
+++++
"We can't do
this..." Gabby said, storming into the Clock Tower.
"I said I was
fine," Dinah protested, following more slowly. "It'd go faster if I could use TK, though."
"Dinah,
love," Gabby said gently before throwing her hands in the air and
shouting, "you are not fine!"
"It's just until
we can find the guns," Dinah protested as she sunk into the soft
couch. "Then we'll run the tests,
cut back."
"We can
alternate nights," Barbara said, firmly.
"Dinah one on and one off."
"And on the
off night? What?" Helena asked.
"I've been working
on the neural belt and the negative sensory effect has decreased."
"Meaning it
causes excruciating pain instead of a debilitating agony?"
"Meaning it's
bearable and it's short term, until we get you back on your feet and figure out
what's happening with Dinah's powers."
"Call
him," Helena said finally, after staring at Barbara.
"Who?"
"Richard. Nightwing," Helena says, voice
flat. "Don't ever tell him I said
this -I'll deny it- but we need him."
"Uncle
Richard! Why are you here! Did you bring me anything?"
"Hey,"
Richard said, catching the toddler mid launch and staggering backwards. "Did you grow more?"
"I tried to
stop but can't," Kyle said seriously.
"Is it my birthday?"
"No,
why?" Richard said, shifting Kyle to his hip.
"You come on
Mama's birthday and Alfred's birthday and my birthday and Thanksgiving and
Christmas and if it's my birthday or Christmas I get more presents but it's not
Christmas."
"What if I
said I didn't bring a present?"
Kyle leaned back,
studying Richard intently. "That's
okay. I just like seeing you."
"Well, I came
to work but I picked this up on the way."
"Cool! Thank you!
What is it?"
"Umm, I think
you stick it to the dash of a car and then you can stick you sunglasses in so
they don't fall on the floor and get crunched."
"I can put it
on my bike!" Kyle said, squirming out of Richard's hold and dropping to
the ground. "To hold my glasses
when I go fast."
"Bike?"
Richard asked, tracking Kyle's dash across the Tower to the balcony.
"Well, it's a
tricycle but he calls it a bike," Barbara said as Richard bent to brush a
kiss across her cheek. "Thanks for
coming."
"Hey, with
the brat laid up…"
"Hey! In the room! And can still kick your ass sitting down with one leg
immobilized."
"And Bludhaven's
only a couple of hours down the freeway," Richard said, ending with a
shrug before handing a small object to Barbara. "This is for you."
"You do all
your gift shopping at Exxon, Dick?"
"It is the
thought that counts, Babs. You
know. See, little clamps. I thought you could attach it to your
armrests. Never misplace that coffee
mug again."
"Nothing for
me?"
"Yeap,"
Richard said, tossing a bright pink package at Helena. "Candy floss favoured bubble gum. For when you can kick ass again."
"Thanks."
"It's
nothing, really," he said, shrugging and looking around the room before
focusing on Barbara. "What you
got?"
"God, this is
boring," Dinah said, voice clear over the comms. "How do you put up with it?"
"Are you
kidding? I'm their man in Havana, the
technical support, the tin dog."
"I still
don't understand that show."
"It's
brilliant, it's cutting edge, it's..."
"And you two
will hold off this discussion," Barbara said sternly. "I'm sure Nightwing's not interested
in..."
"Are you
kidding? Patrol is boring as hell. Did you think Sarah Jane looked like
President Roslin?"
"You could go
passive, Oracle, let us chat to pass the time."
"I don't see
that happening," Helena muttered from beside Barbara.
"I don't see that
happening," Dinah said. "Was
she this strict back in the old days?
No idle chat, no games or iPods."
"She doesn't
let you have PSP or Nintendo?"
"No."
"Batman let
us have Gameboys."
"He
did?"
"Yeah, she hacked
hers into some kind of study aid, mind you."
"Robin,"
Barbara said.
"Yes?"
"Yeah?"
"No, I meant
Nightwing," Barbara said, "stop teasing and concentrate on the
job. Anything in the warehouse?"
"Rats. Four legged kind. Um, some more rats. Oh,
look... rat. I think I'm heading for
the next address 'cause this one is a bust."
"Alright,
Canary and I will parallel Nightwing," Gabby said. "And I gotta say I'm enjoying the
together time here."
"Yeah, it's
an experience," Helena muttered, earning a sideways swat. "I mean, experience for Canary to ride
around with you. Make her appreciate
what you do. God knows I appreciate Oracle's
job a whole bunch more. Robin?"
"Yes?"
"Yeah?"
"Not you
Night-ping, the other Robin. The good
looking one."
"Hey!"
"Hey!"
"I'm sending
the next address. It's right on the
docks."
"Docks,"
said Richard sharply.
"Yeah,
docks. Why?"
"I hate the
docks. Anyway, yeah, on my way."
+++++
"Status,"
Helena said.
"You
know," Dinah said. "you're
beginning to sound like her."
"Night-ring,
wassup?"
"Much
better," muttered Barbara.
"Much
better," Richard said. "You
were right, no people but the cargo winch engine is still warm. Warehouse is fairly empty but there are a
few crates with that symbol you showed me. Heading further in."
"Best
guess?" Barbara asked.
"Best guess
is they cleared out. The crates left
behind are empty or full of junk. Okay,
something's happening dockside."
"Be
careful," Barbara cautioned.
"Mobile is cut off from you right now."
"Except on
foot," Gabby added.
"I'll keep
that in mind. Found the activity. There's a ship, cargo type. Hang on… you're not going to believe
this."
"What?"
"Name of the
ship is 'Poseidon'."
"Well, they
were using a trident for a logo," Gabby said.
"Yeah, but
Poseidon? Isn't that like tempting fate
to capsize you? It's like naming a boat
Titanic or a blimp Hindenburg. It's,
ah, leaving."
"Leaving?"
"Casting off,
making way, tide and time wait for no superhero," the last said with
considerable background noise.
"Rob...
Nightwing, what are you doing?"
"Getting on
the boat. Boarding. Or stowing away. Want to contact the Coast Guard.
Report an unsafe boat, no navigation lights."
"It has no
navigation lights?"
"As I am
currently breaking them... no, it doesn't.
Hurry up, will you?"
"I don't see
why you give me a hard time about attitude," Helena muttered, taking over
the comms while Barbara began the process of contacting the Coast Guard.
"You
might," Richard continued over the comms, the sound of gunfire loud,
"let the Coast Guard know they're armed."
"Nightwing!"
"Don't worry,
they're lousy shots. They took out the
pretty green light before I could. I'll
stick with them until the Coast Guard gets here. I don't suppose you have a boat?"
"Not
immediately available," Barbara muttered.
"I can have it on the water in about fifteen minutes though."
"We have a
boat?" Helena asked in surprise.
"I've been swimming that harbour how many years and..."
"Not now,
Hel," Barbara said, opening a second communications application and
sending the boathouse coordinates to Gabby.
"You get a
boat, Nightwuss, but real superheroes swim back to shore so no hot chocolate
for you."
"In my day...
we always had a speed boat and hot chocolate."
"Bat-boat,
you mean."
"Jealous."
"Hardly, I'm
just surprised you don't have an inflatable bat-Zodiac in your bat-belt."
"Children,
play nice," Barbara said.
"Coast Guard in five minutes, Nightwing. Robin and Canary with a ride in about 15. I assume you can tread water for ten
minutes?"
"Do I
haveta?"
"It's that or
explain to the Coast Guard."
"Man
overboard in five then," Richard
said, his sigh heavy over the comms.
+++++
"I
don't," Helena told the trio as they entered the Clock Tower, "want
to hear a single word about the boat."
"No problem,
Tiger," Gabby said, "I brought you hot chocolate."
"Any
word?" Richard asked, pulling the emergency blanket closer around him.
"Why Richard,
you're all wet," Helena said.
"I always end
up in the harbour and it takes weeks to dry out the leather properly," he
muttered. "What? What did I say?"
+++++
"I hadn't
realized how hard it was."
"What?"
Barbara asked, lowering her book to see Helena, curled around her feet, her own
book closed beside her.
"Waiting,"
Helena said, plucking absentmindedly at the wool blanket. "I mean, I knew. You tell me when I go off comms or get too
busy to report. You always yell at me,
at us, and I thought it was about control."
"Control?"
"Yeah, that
you had to be in control of the situation to do your job," Helena said,
glancing up briefly. "And you do
so I never minded 'cause the more you knew, the better it was for us. But that's not why you yell at us, is
it?"
"No,"
Barbara said, dropping her book beside the bed. "Come here," she said, flipping the covers back and
waiting while Helena crawled up, snuggling onto Barbara's chest. "You okay?" she asked as Helena
seemed to burrow into her.
"I've never
felt so helpless, so impotent. Not
even..."
"When?"
Barbara said softly, bending down to kiss the crown of Helena's head.
"When Mom was
killed, when you were hurt. And it was
Dick. I mean, how much worse would it
be if I actually liked the guy?"
"I think most
of your dislike is habit now."
"Yeah, he
grows on you. Like athlete's foot
or…"
"Hush,"
Barbara said, hugging Helena around the shoulders and head.
"And
so..." Richard asked, glancing from Barbara to Helena.
"Coast Guard
is still doing inventory and the AFT and DEA are getting involved but it looks
like most of the stolen weapons have been recovered," Barbara
reported. They were taking advantage of
a warm autumn, eating breakfast on the balcony.
"So you hafta
go home now, Uncle Richard?"
"'Fraid so,
kiddo. Don't want to make my boss mad
at me by staying away too long.
Besides, that couch is killing my back."
"What did you
tell the department?" Barbara asked.
"Um,"
Richard said, "family emergency.
Closest I could come up with."
"God, Richard
you have no imagination," Helena said, frowning with mock fierceness at
Kyle's attempt to transfer bacon from her plate to his. "Couldn't you have come up with
something more exciting?"
"Exciting?"
"Terrorist
threat? Or, hey, a lead on the stolen
guns so you might get a promotion?"
"Nah, I'm
happy where I am. And a reputation as a
golden boy would create too many enemies in the department. Better to act stupid and boring."
"Act?"
Helena asked, with mock surprise.
"Am I dull,
Kyle?" Richard asked.
"Yes, Uncle
Richard, but I love you anyway."
END
Next:
Hephaestus or
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