Title: Cerco te, chiamo te Fandom: DCU Pairing: Helena/Dick, of sorts Rating: No worse than a soap opera Notes: I have spent way too long messing around with personality fragments of late, such that when Betty asked for this -- which will surely be Jossed by the next Nightwing out, and which contains spoilers for the several previous -- I wrote it. He doesn't exactly have an in to talk to Ms. Bertinelli, but her heavies – he makes a mental note, as he's done so many times, to check their dossiers when he can – have been warned. Helena gets up from the desk in the apartment, but stays behind it. Wise; it's her terrain that way. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asks, and her eyes have that furious flash that attracted him in the first place. “I was going to ask you the same thing, when I got a chance.” “Are you insane?” He grins. “Are you?” “Did --” she lowers her voice. “Which of them sent you?” He raises an eyebrow. “Nobody sent me. You're fine.” She leans over the desk, crumpling a paper under her hand. “You know damn well what I mean.” He shakes his head. “Yeah, and nobody sent me. I'm here of my own free will.” It's not easy to give her a nice courtly bow with the crutch, but he does it anyway. She throws the crumpled paper at him and it bounces off his forehead. “You are insane.” “I thought you knew that.” She's trying to glower, still, but the corner of her mouth is twitching. “I had my suspicions, but – damn it, what are you doing here of all places?” He shrugs, making it as lazy as he can. “Heard you were hiring.” “You already have a job. Two. Three. God knows.” She throws up her hands and turns away, walking away from the desk. “I don't want you anywhere near my operation.” Four steps, five, six. Enough space, and he vaults over the desk. She's fast – she turns just as he puts an arm around her. “Not at all?” “I can't risk it.” She digs her fingernails into his shoulders through his shirt, tilts her head back. “It's too dangerous.” “Too bad.” “Damn you.” She tangles her fingers in his hair and kisses him. He drops the crutch.
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