Chapter Text
Dinah was effortlessly cool in a way Helena never even thought to wish she could be, until she saw it in action. It was intimidating, really, the aloof demeanor, the brash insults Dinah slung at anyone who got too close … but she had a softer side, too. Anyone brave enough to stick around past that first cutting line or two, or anyone pitiful enough to get her compassion from the beginning, soon realized that her tough exterior was a mask for the deep well of kindness in her soul.
Helena remembered, sometimes, that Dinah had spoken approvingly of her from the first. I like this chick, she’s got rage issues. A weird thing to like about someone, even if Helena didn’t have rage issues, anyway. Her rage was very tightly focused and her control of it was excellent, thank you very much. It’s not an issue, it’s a weapon.
She was pretty sure that amiable line was because Dinah saw immediately how awkward Helena was, once Victor Zasz, the final corpse in her revenge tally, lay cooling on the sofa. For the first time in fifteen years, Helena had found herself without a purpose, without a plan. Kill them all, avenge your family had been her objective for so long that she hadn’t ever looked past that moment.
Of course, Renee had made a good point - she needed to take out Sionis, too. And then protecting Cass was its own goal. After that, she’d ended up with something like friends, a weird concept to Helena. She’d had family, once, and then allies, trainers, but she couldn’t remember ever having friends.
Montoya somehow talked them into starting their own group. Real justice, from the bottom up. Helena had more money than she knew what to do with and no plan for her life. Making sure what happened to her didn’t happen to other kids was as good an idea as any. The fact that it let her spend time around Dinah and Renee just sealed the deal. Renee talked to both of them like they were her clueless nieces, scolded them to eat better and drink less … even while she worked her way through most of a bottle of whiskey without help. Helena liked that about her, Renee was tough and sharp-tongued but you couldn’t ignore the fact that she cared.
Dinah … Dinah was different.
Dinah joked with Helena, sometimes, and talked seriously to her sometimes. Like she trusted Helena to know the difference, to know how to lob playful insults or light-hearted compliments at the right times, and when to stop that and be genuine. Like she thought Helena was a real person, not a vendetta wrapped up in human skin.
She made Helena nervous, and even more awkward than usual, which was really saying something. As a teenager, Helena had only seen other teens at a distance, and she’d been smugly glad of her goal. It gave her purpose and kept her from the hapless foolishness that seemed to be their entire existence. But now, apparently the rest of the world had been learning social skills during those years of their lives, and Helena found herself with none. Her plans had never included anything like romance, or even sex for that matter. Not that she was wholly inexperienced, but a few hesitant kisses with men she met in bars where she’d gone just to drink away the time between hits had seemed to show her that there was nothing for her in all of it.
As it was turning out, it wasn’t that she had no interest in that stuff. She just had no interest in men.
Maybe if she’d had something approaching a normal adolescence, she’d be able to deal with the way Dinah affected her. Tight pants, bared midriff, breasts pushed up by a gold bra, knowing eyes, full lips, it seemed Helena was always noticing something about Dinah that made her belly tighten and her hands tremble and her mouth water. Once she’d been watching Dinah walk away after a fight, the self-satisfied sway of her hips mesmerizing, and Renee had thrown a rude elbow into her recently-bruised ribs. “For fuck’s sake, Killer, make a move already,” she’d complained.
“What?” Helena said, not even objecting to Renee’s annoying nickname for her. “What do you mean, move?”
Renee had rolled her eyes extravagantly. “God, I can’t tell if this is you being a feral imitation of a human being, or you being a textbook useless lesbian. Or both, it could always be both.”
Helena somehow understood every word in that sentence without quite comprehending Renee’s meaning when they were strung together. She settled for an offended-sounding “Excuse me?” as a response.
Renee just sighed. “She likes you, dummy. Ask her out or something. I didn’t sign up to be your gay guide.”
Helena was pretty sure that Dinah didn’t like her any more than she liked the rest of them, but then, she seemed to like them - even Harley, at least once Dinah got her car back - more than the rest of humanity. And she wouldn’t know how to ask anyone out if her life depended on it, or where to go if she did ask. Helena’s nights were spent training, fighting, or drinking with her friends to blow off steam. She chalked up Renee’s comments to the older woman’s own frustrations, and ignored the whole situation.
Until she couldn’t anymore, that was.
…
Most fights went their way. Renee usually had a plan, Helena was terrifyingly well-trained, and Dinah could fight with the best of them. Tonight, though, everything went to hell from the moment they walked in.
It was supposed to be covert, they were supposed to be staying hidden until this particular arms deal was concluded, whereupon they could spring out and take everyone - sellers and buyers - by surprise. The problem was, the Birds of Prey had gotten around enough that scumbags were on the lookout. And they brought enough weapons that no amount of training would be able to dodge that many bullets. Dinah could’ve taken down most of them with her canary cry, but then she’d be unconscious. There were just too many attackers to risk that, without a good defensive position.
Which was how all three of them ended up running for cover. Renee made it out, Helena saw that much, but she and Dinah were racing back into the abandoned warehouse with a bunch of really angry crooks in hot pursuit. They needed to get out of the line of sight, and Helena scrambled up a ladder to a catwalk, Dinah following her. Most people didn’t look above their heads, but they would search here, and she needed a hiding place, fast. If they could get the pursuers to pass them, Dinah could use her cry and Helena could mop up any stragglers.
First they had to remain undetected. Helena jumped off the catwalk to a series of high shelves, picking her way carefully along between smallish boxes of parts. She wanted a better concealment than this. Dinah was right behind her, still, and they hurried toward some larger boxes. If they could worm their way between those and crouch down, they’d be unseen by everyone on the floor and the catwalk.
The door below banged open, and Helena saw a flashlight sweep through the gloom. She reacted instantly, turning on her heel and tackling Dinah silently to the ground. Well, the shelf, in this case. The boxes on either side of them offered little concealment, not being high enough, but little concealment was better than none.
Except, as the men shouted instructions and fanned out to search, Helena realized she’d picked the worst possible place and manner to try to hide. She was stretched out atop Dinah, cheek to cheek, Dinah’s hands down at her side, their bodies pressed together in ways that made Helena profoundly uncomfortable. Her whole back prickled with unease, and she tried to raise herself on her forearms and toes so she wasn’t touching so much. Doing so only made her aware of Dinah taking a breath in, quietly as she could, the way her belly moved under Helena’s, the way their legs were tangled together, and Helena’s mind short-circuited.
She had to get up. She had to. This was totally out of bounds, the only reason Dinah wasn’t cussing her out was all those men with guns looking for them both, and shit, those men were the reason she couldn’t just get up. “Sorry,” Helena whispered, hearing the raw edge of panic in her voice. “Sorry, I can’t, they’ll see, I just…”
“Hush,” Dinah whispered back, her hands gripping Helena’s jacket. And oh fuck, oh shit, she smelled too damn good for this, something sweet and floral in her perfume, a hint of cocoa butter on her skin, and if Helena stayed her hovering right over her a moment longer, she’d just … explode, probably, from sheer awkwardness.
“Sorry,” Helena whispered, her voice a little harsher, and tried to push herself up further away.
Doing so would bring the line of her shoulders above the edge of the boxes, and there were footsteps on the ladder. Any second now, their pursuers would see her. Helena wanted to scream in anxiety and frustration.
Dinah tugged her down by the grip on her jacket, and before Helena could make a startled noise of protest, their lips met. Their noses bumped, too, until Dinah angled her head and kissed Helena firmly, with clear intent.
What.
The fuck.
Helena couldn’t think. She just … melted into that kiss, letting herself sink down over Dinah’s body. Everything else just went away, her worry that Dinah would be offended, the men trying to kill them, even her concern for Renee. For a single moment, standing out in clarity like the strains of a violin solo, Helena lived and breathed solely in the kiss. Dinah’s lips moved softly against hers, tasting faintly of vanilla, and her hands on Helena’s sides kept her anchored close.
Feeling like she could die right then without a single regret, Helena sighed in the first real contentment she’d known in a long time. And pulled back for another breath, opening her eyes to look at Dinah’s face. A slow smile curved those lips - that she had just kissed, she could still taste them - and Dinah just winked at her. Making no move to get away, or push Helena up to a more decent distance. No, she looked entirely happy right where she was, and that made something low in Helena’s abdomen turn warm and eager.
A flashlight beam swept over them, but they were pressed so tightly together that the boxes hid them both. Still, it was the reminder Helena needed - they had a job to do. And some very bad men to take out.
Her expression must’ve changed, because Dinah nodded. And once all the footsteps and lights were past them, they both sat up. Helena more awkwardly, of course, because she’d become aware again of how her long lean body fit so well between Dinah’s shapely thighs, and that was not something she needed to be thinking about just now.
Dinah leaned close to her ear, and whispered, “If we make it out of this in one piece, remind me I owe you a serious kiss, Huntress.”
Helena wanted to tell her that she didn’t owe anything, that she understood it had just been a way to shut her up and keep her still long enough to survive, but the selfish part of her refused to turn down any chance of another kiss. And if that kiss hadn’t been a serious one, she didn’t know if she’d survive the real deal. She settled for nodding, trying to look solemn, and gearing up to go after the men.