![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: Five People Barbara Slept With And One She Fell In Love With
Fandom: Birds of Prey comics
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,510
Characters/Pairings: Barbara/Dinah, Barbara/Power Girl, Barbara/Helena, Barbara/Zinda, Barbara/Dick
Author's notes: Betaed by tboarder.
Summary: There’s always a difference between getting what you want and keeping it.
Power Girl was one of Barbara’s biggest regrets, right up there with opening a door without looking through the peephole. She pushed Power Girl too hard, too fast, and ruined something she’d barely even grasped. She’d expected Karen to be as ruthless and cynical as she was, to see the logic instead of the people. Maybe Karen was just too much of a hero to be what Barbara needed. It hurt to be rejected by a hero, the same wound that Superman and Batman would go on to twinge.
Not that Dinah was cynical, not at all, she didn’t let herself, but she accepted that whatever Barbara did, she could balance it out. She trusted that there were lines Barbara wouldn’t let herself cross and lines Dinah wouldn’t let Barbara cross and between the two of them, they did good.
That partnership was what was missing most from Karen and Barbara’s team-up. They never understood each other that way. They got along like Batgirl and Power Girl, going out to stop the Riddler from stealing a giant coin, and that only worked if they were the same kind of hero. The same kind of lover, too.
But there was one time when they’d believed, when Barbara had believed that she could hold onto her idealism and still do some good. The mission had been an unqualified success and they were flush with it. How righteous they were. Oracle’s operative wore a clunky camera head-set in those days, making Karen look like she was riding a motorcycle. Karen swooped into her apartment and they were actually giggling over their own prowess as Karen poured herself a glass of orange juice and drank it in one go. Barbara hardly paid attention to Karen’s transmission as she gulped down news of the coup they’d ushered in.
Looking into a mirror, and thus letting Barbara look into it, Karen undid a hidden catch in the top of her uniform. Her famous cut-out split at the top. Her breasts worked their way out of their confinement, even more plump and pert out in the open. Barbara had never considered herself really gay before, just open-minded, but she couldn’t keep her eyes or her mind off of them. She knew she was no slouch in the looks department, but Karen was one of those women who were better than human, their bodies more works of art than flesh.
“Oracle, you can keep watching if you like.”
32E, endlessly drooled over and joked about, but Barbara could actually see them. They didn’t sag, they didn’t even seem to notice gravity, jiggling at the slightest movement. Even Dinah’s didn’t compare, and Barbara was biased.
Karen manhandled them, gloved fingers biting into the succulent flesh and savagely pinching the nipples. Barbara felt short of breath. She watched as Karen hooked something under her bed with her toe and then dragged it out. A Sybian. Her other feeds beeped, requesting attention. She shut them down. The room darkened, except for the intimate light of the monitor showing Karen.
Karen took off her helmet first, shaking her hair out, setting the camera down in front of the mirror so Barbara could see everything and Karen could see what she saw. Then her cape, turning around and working it off to slowly reveal her ass. Barbara had been staring at it all day and she’d never realized how beautiful it was. High, curvy, with the bottom of Karen’s uniform pulled up into a thong, it flexed invitingly as Karen pulled down her unitard, revealing all of it. Then she kicked off her boots and, wearing nothing but her gloves, straddled the Sybian.
“Like what you see?” she asked, knowing Barbara did.
Barbara watched it start to vibrate, a low thrum audible over the link, the flesh of Karen’s creamy thighs being jogged slightly. Karen moaned deep in her throat and Barbara gritted her teeth. Goddamn, this was not… She shouldn’t be watching this. Karen probably thought she was a man, or someone… else. It really wasn’t fair to her to watch her do these things when they couldn’t have a future together. The vibration intensified. Karen bit her lip, running a hand over her breasts. A sheen of sweat was beginning to stand out across her body. Barbara cursed and unbuttoned her jeans. One quick orgasm, then she would stop watching.
Only she couldn’t seem to stop. Her body flooded with climax, she regained her breath, then she took one look at Karen… her legs spread wantonly, her breasts rolling against the air, her lips parted in ecstasy… and the urge returned, ten times greater. It was like there was something her body was holding back. Barbara whimpered and turned on the microphone.
“You’re so beautiful, Karen…”
“Puh-Power Girl.” Karen rubbed herself even more fiercely against the Sybian. “Call me Power Girl.”
It was psychological. Being in a formfitting costume with a mask, no consequences, no names, it was like being in a twilight world. You felt sexier, you were sexier. Barbara saw it in the way Dinah would cross her legs and toss her hair. She had thought she was separated forever from that world. But being just a name over the radiowaves was almost like wearing a mask… almost.
“Power Girl.” Barbara smirked. “You look like you’re having fun. You love it, don’t you? I love watching it…”
Karen cried out, leaning back, both hands on the floor to steady herself as her hips continued to twitch against the machine.
“Look at that delicious little clit. It’s just begging for attention. Why don’t you touch it, Power Girl?”
Karen moaned, and even though her face was obscured by her body, Barbara could just picture the lustful twist in her lips. Karen took one hand off the floor and touched her clit, just as Barbara touched hers. Ecstasy! She grinded herself against her hand as best she could, a cruel reminder of just what had been denied her, so long, it’s been so long, then she stroked her clit again.
Her yell reached the microphone. Karen ripped her glove off in her teeth and forced two fingers into her pussy. Her body shook as she came, as they both came, Barbara ruining a perfectly good pair of jeans and Karen’s back hitting the floor, toes curled. The redhead wouldn’t have it as good until Dinah, long months in the future.
Karen sat up, brushing the shaggy blonde hair out of her eyes. “Fuck, Oracle. Fuck. I think I’ve got a complex. That isn’t anywhere near as good when you’re not watching.”
“Barbara. Call me Barbara.”
As it turned out, Karen didn’t give a damn about Oracle being a woman.
***
It wasn’t anywhere close to love, not even the platonic kind. It was barely even friendship. It was lust and sex and flirting, which was what she needed just then. Just a little companionship amongst the professionalism. Still, it ended too soon, and Barbara would never stop wondering if it could’ve been something. At the very least, she and Karen might’ve parted as friends.
Dinah was different. Even when they were just voices to each other, Dinah was affectionate. Cooing, joking, concerned when Barbara sounded depressed, overjoyed when there was laughter in Barbara’s tone. Barbara knew she should’ve deepened her voice into the computerized baritone of the Oracle, but she kept letting the scrambler do less and less work, snuggling closer to Dinah, until it was just her voice in the Canary’s ear.
After their first brief meeting and that business with Blockbuster, they’d finally met formally in the Clocktower. Barbara had dressed up, feeling ridiculous about wearing her best shirt and Egyptian silk trousers. Then she saw Dinah come up the elevator in a summer dress and spaghetti-strap sandals. She looked like a model. Barbara felt her breath take its leave.
Stop it. She’s just a friend. Nothing more. Why do you think someone like that would be interested in a crippled old nerd? Who’s not even a guy?
She forced herself to be cordial and polite until Dinah gave her a hug like they were old sorority sisters. “God! I’ve wanted to do that so long,” Dinah grinned. Barbara mentioned there was orange marmalade in the fridge, not letting on that she’d made it specifically for Dinah.
They talked for hours, like one of their communicator conversations, only this time with no off-switch. Barbara found herself not wanting one. She told Dinah about being Batgirl, about the Joker (she didn’t cry, but when Dinah took her hand, she felt like it’d be alright to), about Suicide Squad and then Karen and then Dinah.
“Why me?” Dinah asked.
“Because… I thought you were down on your luck and no one was willing to give you an opportunity. The Justice League wasn’t inviting you on, Green Arrow wasn’t trying to win you back, you were alone. Like me.”
“Well, you’re not alone anymore, m’love!” Dinah said dashingly, kissing Barbara’s hand (which she’d never let go of after hearing about the Joker). She sprang up and pulled a Chinese menu from her purse like it was a birthday card. “Are you starving or is it just me?”
“Oh, I don’t really like Chinese food…”
“You’ll love this, I promise. If I lie, you may gorge yourself on caviar, my treat.”
Dinah was right. It was exquisite. They sat on the couch, Barbara devouring the sesame chicken like it was the antidote to some deadly disease she was infected with. Dinah eventually grabbed her hand and pushed some noodles into her mouth. Delicious. Since Barbara was having trouble with the chopsticks, Dinah gave her another helping.
“I could just get a spoon,” Barbara said.
“Nonsense!” Dinah curled up next to Barbara for better access. “Just watch me do it. See, forefinger, index finger…” She gently placed another few noodles on Barbara’s tongue, watched her chew them. “Now, you try it.”
Barbara, trying hard to replicate Dinah’s poise, pulled some noodles out of the carton. She offered them to Dinah. Red lips closed over the ends of the chopsticks, pulling the noodles free.
They talked long into the night about Dinah, how she’d started out, the disappointment of her relationship with Ollie, her worries about Roy, her time with the Justice League. Finally, Dinah talked about the Longbow Hunters, the slow self-destruction of her and Ollie, and admitted how much being Barbara’s agent meant to her. She wiped the tears from her eyes and Barbara was a little surprised to find herself doing the same.
Barbara admitted that she had loved Dick, and regretted how life had torn them apart. She even told Dinah about her insane fling with Katarina, which made the blonde giggle. Soon, they were both laughing. They embraced again over lives derailed and realigned. Barbara found herself thinking back to that afternoon, which seemed like only minutes ago and yet like another lifetime, and thought how strange it was that Dinah had figured so briefly into her life back then.
“What am I forgetting?” Dinah asked after slipping her sandals off, curling her long legs up on the couch beside Barbara. “Oh, yeah!” Dinah reached into the plastic bag once full of take-out cartons, now nearly empty. “Fortune cookies!”
“I don’t believe in destiny,” Barbara said.
“Maybe you’re just so much cooler than destiny you don’t notice it,” Dinah teased. “C’mon, it’s a cookie, you’re going to say no to a cookie?”
Barbara opened it, but pointedly set the fortune down on her lap as she ate the cookie.
Dinah read hers, eyes going wide.
“What is it?” Barbara asked, chucking her own fortune over her shoulder without a second thought.
Dinah smiled, setting aside the two halves of the cookie. “’Be open to new opportunities’. Guess that settles it.”
“Settles what?”
“Okay, I’m about to probably make a huge ass of myself, so go easy on me. I like you. Even when you were a voice on the radio I liked you and now that I see you… you’re even better than I could’ve imagined. Your laugh, your face, your spirit, it’s all so—lovely. And I’d really like to kiss you now. Would that be alright?”
Barbara unfortunately ripped the bodice of Dinah’s dress as she pulled the blonde on top of her. Dinah didn’t mind.
***
Dinah set Barbara down on the bed, too small for two, and Barbara found herself thinking she’d need to refurnish before thinking how absurd it was that she was planning on buying new furniture for someone who she’d only really met that morning. But then, Dinah was worth it.
They kissed for long minutes, Dinah’s hands inquisitive, pleasuring. Barbara could only put her arms around Dinah and hold tight to her. Nonetheless, Dinah slipped away. She stood over Barbara and shimmied out of her dress, leaving her in a pair of panties and garters. Barbara laughed at herself for feeling foolish about wearing nice clothes. Dinah had thought to wear Italian underwear.
She gave Dinah a round of applause and Dinah gave her a little twirl before hopping back onto her. This time the kiss was disappointingly singular. Barbara only got one chance to savor Dinah’s lips before Dinah was pulling away her pants and panties and shoes, trying to get them all off at once like she was solving a puzzle.
Barbara reached down and grabbed Dinah’s golden hair, at first to try to pull her back, but then just stroking it. It felt so soft, gleaming where the city lights that passed through the blinds touched it. But finally Dinah crawled back up to her.
“Tell me if I’m doing this wrong,” Dinah said, lowering herself to Barbara’s sex.
Barbara felt a tremor run through her. As good as Dinah’s lips had felt against hers, they felt impossibly better on her cunt. At first Dinah took it slow, nuzzling and licking, but eventually she experimented with nipping at Barbara’s folds and pushing her tongue in deep. Every time Barbara thought she would get used to what Dinah was doing, the blonde tried something different. Her hands cupped Barbara’s ass or breasts or thighs, or reached up to feel her face. Barbara kissed her fingers. Then their hands locked together as Dinah sucked vigorously, making Barbara feel like she was lighting up as her pussy lips were pulled into Dinah’s mouth and then allowed to settle back.
One of Dinah’s hands went away, leaving Barbara to clasp the other in both of hers. Barbara looked down to see Dinah was on her knees, hips swaying in the air, body writhing as one hand pressed between her legs. Barbara wished she could do that for her.
“Is that good?” Dinah asked, after briefly stopping for an orgasm to unclench her. Her face was resting against Barbara’s lower belly, breath tickling her pubic hair.
“It’s good, it’s so good…” Barbara petted her friend’s brow, before grabbing her hair again and pulling her back down. “More.”
Dinah smiled and started again. This time, the brief absence had Barbara on a hair-trigger. She gasped as Dinah instantly hit her hot spots. Dinah knew exactly how Barbara wanted to be touched. Her hands came up and settled on Barbara’s stomach, working their way up, but as soon as Barbara felt the warm moistness of one she had it grabbed by the wrist and tugged to her lips. Dinah’s taste was indescribable, but she savored every drop of it.
Dinah had finally settled on a good rhythm, teasing, prolonging, exquisite. Her lips would brush against Barbara’s clit, never enough to get used to, then she would lick her pussy, her tongue speeding up until she pulled back, maddeningly laying another kiss around the belly button. Barbara couldn’t take it anymore. She reached down and rubbed her clit with the heel of her hand. When she came, it was totally unexpected. The pleasure had been building so violently she couldn’t imagine it ending, like a fire burning so hot it couldn’t be snuffed out. Her orgasm was long and breathless, a scream that turned into a gasp that settled into a long, drawn-out moan.
Dinah crawled once more up against Barbara, who felt the smooth enamel feel of her panties as they brushed against her stomach. Barbara only managed to unbutton her shirt before sleep took her, Dinah’s hand lazily caressing the exposed skin of her chest and stomach. They were both as tired as they were sated, and Dinah’s arms wrapped around Barbara greedily, perfectly. Barbara had wanted that for as long as Dinah had wanted to do it.
The too-small bed turned out to be not such a problem after all.
In the morning, they were woken by the sound of the AC coming on. Barbara rolled Dinah over and finally got off the panties that had been haunting her dreams, working the blonde to orgasm with three fingers in her sex. They stayed in bed for most of the afternoon, until hunger and hygiene forced them to abandon it. Then Barbara noticed that the Justice League had sent her thirty-two urgent messages and it was back to work. Dinah fixed her brunch as Barbara resolved the Vandal Savage situation.
Neither of them saw Barbara’s fortune being swept under the bed by the AC. It read ‘nothing is certain in this life.’
***
Helena was nothing like Dinah. Dinah was a beautiful warrior’s soul in a deceptively attractive shell, layered like a Russian doll, the real mixture of strength and beauty hidden so you could never get more than a glimpse of it. Barbara liked to think she had seen more of it than anyone else, but she guessed Dinah preferred someone who only saw the parts she wanted them to see. Someone like Ollie.
Helena was all weapon, all sex, what you see was what you got. Bloodied and bandaged after a mission, they’d sat in the kitchenette of the Metropolis base, silent as hunters waiting for their prey. Barbara ate ice cream, Helena drank beer. When Helena finished the six-pack, she kissed Barbara. She didn’t taste like liquor. She tasted like blood. Barbara didn’t mind.
They had barely begun to kiss before Helena was ripping off Barbara’s clothes. They went to the floor, grinding, grunting, fucking. Helena stopped just when Barbara was getting good and into it, walking off with her hips swaying. Barbara laid there, her body cooling on the porcelain floor, until Helena came back. All she wore was a strap-on. She jacked the dildo like a question and Barbara said yes.
Dinah and her had never used toys, but there were a lot of things Barbara had never done with Dinah.
***
She never technically had sex with Zinda. It was more of a make-out session. Zinda had a tendency to throw herself at anyone when she was drunk. Barbara had even seen Barda wiping off a faceful of red lipstick marks, looking utterly frazzled. She and Dinah had had a good laugh over that.
Being with Zinda was nothing more than a hand up her shirt and a tongue down her throat until Zinda had settled into an awkward embrace, head resting on Barbara’s chest.
“S’okay, skipper. I still think you’re the best.”
They went to sleep like that, and when Barbara woke up, Zinda was gone to nurse her hangover.
***
Dick was Dick. He had a spectrum, but none of it was much of a surprise. There was the Batman side of the spectrum, which Barbara tried to mitigate, but she could only really ride out (Kory was the one who’d been good at that). And there was the Dick side of the spectrum, where he was charming and sensitive and perfect. Barbara couldn’t fault him for that, since she had a spectrum too. There were times when all she wanted was to be alone so no one could hurt her, and times when she could admit she needed someone.
Once, they were in the same city while their spectrums were all synced up, Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson, no masks. It was fun, but it couldn’t last. In a way, it was as much about comfort as Zinda.
Eventually, they were able to admit that they’d circled each other too many times to ever find their way back to each other. Four months later, when Barbara saw the tabloid cover of Dick and Kory in the check-out aisle, she didn’t feel bitter so much as the numb joy a prisoner experiences when he hears someone has been paroled. That, and a sense of jealousy.
***
Helena mentioned it to her first, in a knowing way that didn’t judge. Barbara did that to herself. She hated herself for feeling good about the divorce, for the heartache Dinah must be feeling. She kept a constant eye on the proceedings, the way Green Arrow and Black Canary reshuffled to different teams. There was a yearning in her heart she hadn’t known she was able to feel anymore. Finally, she picked up the phone.
“Dinah? I miss you.”
Fandom: Birds of Prey comics
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,510
Characters/Pairings: Barbara/Dinah, Barbara/Power Girl, Barbara/Helena, Barbara/Zinda, Barbara/Dick
Author's notes: Betaed by tboarder.
Summary: There’s always a difference between getting what you want and keeping it.
Power Girl was one of Barbara’s biggest regrets, right up there with opening a door without looking through the peephole. She pushed Power Girl too hard, too fast, and ruined something she’d barely even grasped. She’d expected Karen to be as ruthless and cynical as she was, to see the logic instead of the people. Maybe Karen was just too much of a hero to be what Barbara needed. It hurt to be rejected by a hero, the same wound that Superman and Batman would go on to twinge.
Not that Dinah was cynical, not at all, she didn’t let herself, but she accepted that whatever Barbara did, she could balance it out. She trusted that there were lines Barbara wouldn’t let herself cross and lines Dinah wouldn’t let Barbara cross and between the two of them, they did good.
That partnership was what was missing most from Karen and Barbara’s team-up. They never understood each other that way. They got along like Batgirl and Power Girl, going out to stop the Riddler from stealing a giant coin, and that only worked if they were the same kind of hero. The same kind of lover, too.
But there was one time when they’d believed, when Barbara had believed that she could hold onto her idealism and still do some good. The mission had been an unqualified success and they were flush with it. How righteous they were. Oracle’s operative wore a clunky camera head-set in those days, making Karen look like she was riding a motorcycle. Karen swooped into her apartment and they were actually giggling over their own prowess as Karen poured herself a glass of orange juice and drank it in one go. Barbara hardly paid attention to Karen’s transmission as she gulped down news of the coup they’d ushered in.
Looking into a mirror, and thus letting Barbara look into it, Karen undid a hidden catch in the top of her uniform. Her famous cut-out split at the top. Her breasts worked their way out of their confinement, even more plump and pert out in the open. Barbara had never considered herself really gay before, just open-minded, but she couldn’t keep her eyes or her mind off of them. She knew she was no slouch in the looks department, but Karen was one of those women who were better than human, their bodies more works of art than flesh.
“Oracle, you can keep watching if you like.”
32E, endlessly drooled over and joked about, but Barbara could actually see them. They didn’t sag, they didn’t even seem to notice gravity, jiggling at the slightest movement. Even Dinah’s didn’t compare, and Barbara was biased.
Karen manhandled them, gloved fingers biting into the succulent flesh and savagely pinching the nipples. Barbara felt short of breath. She watched as Karen hooked something under her bed with her toe and then dragged it out. A Sybian. Her other feeds beeped, requesting attention. She shut them down. The room darkened, except for the intimate light of the monitor showing Karen.
Karen took off her helmet first, shaking her hair out, setting the camera down in front of the mirror so Barbara could see everything and Karen could see what she saw. Then her cape, turning around and working it off to slowly reveal her ass. Barbara had been staring at it all day and she’d never realized how beautiful it was. High, curvy, with the bottom of Karen’s uniform pulled up into a thong, it flexed invitingly as Karen pulled down her unitard, revealing all of it. Then she kicked off her boots and, wearing nothing but her gloves, straddled the Sybian.
“Like what you see?” she asked, knowing Barbara did.
Barbara watched it start to vibrate, a low thrum audible over the link, the flesh of Karen’s creamy thighs being jogged slightly. Karen moaned deep in her throat and Barbara gritted her teeth. Goddamn, this was not… She shouldn’t be watching this. Karen probably thought she was a man, or someone… else. It really wasn’t fair to her to watch her do these things when they couldn’t have a future together. The vibration intensified. Karen bit her lip, running a hand over her breasts. A sheen of sweat was beginning to stand out across her body. Barbara cursed and unbuttoned her jeans. One quick orgasm, then she would stop watching.
Only she couldn’t seem to stop. Her body flooded with climax, she regained her breath, then she took one look at Karen… her legs spread wantonly, her breasts rolling against the air, her lips parted in ecstasy… and the urge returned, ten times greater. It was like there was something her body was holding back. Barbara whimpered and turned on the microphone.
“You’re so beautiful, Karen…”
“Puh-Power Girl.” Karen rubbed herself even more fiercely against the Sybian. “Call me Power Girl.”
It was psychological. Being in a formfitting costume with a mask, no consequences, no names, it was like being in a twilight world. You felt sexier, you were sexier. Barbara saw it in the way Dinah would cross her legs and toss her hair. She had thought she was separated forever from that world. But being just a name over the radiowaves was almost like wearing a mask… almost.
“Power Girl.” Barbara smirked. “You look like you’re having fun. You love it, don’t you? I love watching it…”
Karen cried out, leaning back, both hands on the floor to steady herself as her hips continued to twitch against the machine.
“Look at that delicious little clit. It’s just begging for attention. Why don’t you touch it, Power Girl?”
Karen moaned, and even though her face was obscured by her body, Barbara could just picture the lustful twist in her lips. Karen took one hand off the floor and touched her clit, just as Barbara touched hers. Ecstasy! She grinded herself against her hand as best she could, a cruel reminder of just what had been denied her, so long, it’s been so long, then she stroked her clit again.
Her yell reached the microphone. Karen ripped her glove off in her teeth and forced two fingers into her pussy. Her body shook as she came, as they both came, Barbara ruining a perfectly good pair of jeans and Karen’s back hitting the floor, toes curled. The redhead wouldn’t have it as good until Dinah, long months in the future.
Karen sat up, brushing the shaggy blonde hair out of her eyes. “Fuck, Oracle. Fuck. I think I’ve got a complex. That isn’t anywhere near as good when you’re not watching.”
“Barbara. Call me Barbara.”
As it turned out, Karen didn’t give a damn about Oracle being a woman.
***
It wasn’t anywhere close to love, not even the platonic kind. It was barely even friendship. It was lust and sex and flirting, which was what she needed just then. Just a little companionship amongst the professionalism. Still, it ended too soon, and Barbara would never stop wondering if it could’ve been something. At the very least, she and Karen might’ve parted as friends.
Dinah was different. Even when they were just voices to each other, Dinah was affectionate. Cooing, joking, concerned when Barbara sounded depressed, overjoyed when there was laughter in Barbara’s tone. Barbara knew she should’ve deepened her voice into the computerized baritone of the Oracle, but she kept letting the scrambler do less and less work, snuggling closer to Dinah, until it was just her voice in the Canary’s ear.
After their first brief meeting and that business with Blockbuster, they’d finally met formally in the Clocktower. Barbara had dressed up, feeling ridiculous about wearing her best shirt and Egyptian silk trousers. Then she saw Dinah come up the elevator in a summer dress and spaghetti-strap sandals. She looked like a model. Barbara felt her breath take its leave.
Stop it. She’s just a friend. Nothing more. Why do you think someone like that would be interested in a crippled old nerd? Who’s not even a guy?
She forced herself to be cordial and polite until Dinah gave her a hug like they were old sorority sisters. “God! I’ve wanted to do that so long,” Dinah grinned. Barbara mentioned there was orange marmalade in the fridge, not letting on that she’d made it specifically for Dinah.
They talked for hours, like one of their communicator conversations, only this time with no off-switch. Barbara found herself not wanting one. She told Dinah about being Batgirl, about the Joker (she didn’t cry, but when Dinah took her hand, she felt like it’d be alright to), about Suicide Squad and then Karen and then Dinah.
“Why me?” Dinah asked.
“Because… I thought you were down on your luck and no one was willing to give you an opportunity. The Justice League wasn’t inviting you on, Green Arrow wasn’t trying to win you back, you were alone. Like me.”
“Well, you’re not alone anymore, m’love!” Dinah said dashingly, kissing Barbara’s hand (which she’d never let go of after hearing about the Joker). She sprang up and pulled a Chinese menu from her purse like it was a birthday card. “Are you starving or is it just me?”
“Oh, I don’t really like Chinese food…”
“You’ll love this, I promise. If I lie, you may gorge yourself on caviar, my treat.”
Dinah was right. It was exquisite. They sat on the couch, Barbara devouring the sesame chicken like it was the antidote to some deadly disease she was infected with. Dinah eventually grabbed her hand and pushed some noodles into her mouth. Delicious. Since Barbara was having trouble with the chopsticks, Dinah gave her another helping.
“I could just get a spoon,” Barbara said.
“Nonsense!” Dinah curled up next to Barbara for better access. “Just watch me do it. See, forefinger, index finger…” She gently placed another few noodles on Barbara’s tongue, watched her chew them. “Now, you try it.”
Barbara, trying hard to replicate Dinah’s poise, pulled some noodles out of the carton. She offered them to Dinah. Red lips closed over the ends of the chopsticks, pulling the noodles free.
They talked long into the night about Dinah, how she’d started out, the disappointment of her relationship with Ollie, her worries about Roy, her time with the Justice League. Finally, Dinah talked about the Longbow Hunters, the slow self-destruction of her and Ollie, and admitted how much being Barbara’s agent meant to her. She wiped the tears from her eyes and Barbara was a little surprised to find herself doing the same.
Barbara admitted that she had loved Dick, and regretted how life had torn them apart. She even told Dinah about her insane fling with Katarina, which made the blonde giggle. Soon, they were both laughing. They embraced again over lives derailed and realigned. Barbara found herself thinking back to that afternoon, which seemed like only minutes ago and yet like another lifetime, and thought how strange it was that Dinah had figured so briefly into her life back then.
“What am I forgetting?” Dinah asked after slipping her sandals off, curling her long legs up on the couch beside Barbara. “Oh, yeah!” Dinah reached into the plastic bag once full of take-out cartons, now nearly empty. “Fortune cookies!”
“I don’t believe in destiny,” Barbara said.
“Maybe you’re just so much cooler than destiny you don’t notice it,” Dinah teased. “C’mon, it’s a cookie, you’re going to say no to a cookie?”
Barbara opened it, but pointedly set the fortune down on her lap as she ate the cookie.
Dinah read hers, eyes going wide.
“What is it?” Barbara asked, chucking her own fortune over her shoulder without a second thought.
Dinah smiled, setting aside the two halves of the cookie. “’Be open to new opportunities’. Guess that settles it.”
“Settles what?”
“Okay, I’m about to probably make a huge ass of myself, so go easy on me. I like you. Even when you were a voice on the radio I liked you and now that I see you… you’re even better than I could’ve imagined. Your laugh, your face, your spirit, it’s all so—lovely. And I’d really like to kiss you now. Would that be alright?”
Barbara unfortunately ripped the bodice of Dinah’s dress as she pulled the blonde on top of her. Dinah didn’t mind.
***
Dinah set Barbara down on the bed, too small for two, and Barbara found herself thinking she’d need to refurnish before thinking how absurd it was that she was planning on buying new furniture for someone who she’d only really met that morning. But then, Dinah was worth it.
They kissed for long minutes, Dinah’s hands inquisitive, pleasuring. Barbara could only put her arms around Dinah and hold tight to her. Nonetheless, Dinah slipped away. She stood over Barbara and shimmied out of her dress, leaving her in a pair of panties and garters. Barbara laughed at herself for feeling foolish about wearing nice clothes. Dinah had thought to wear Italian underwear.
She gave Dinah a round of applause and Dinah gave her a little twirl before hopping back onto her. This time the kiss was disappointingly singular. Barbara only got one chance to savor Dinah’s lips before Dinah was pulling away her pants and panties and shoes, trying to get them all off at once like she was solving a puzzle.
Barbara reached down and grabbed Dinah’s golden hair, at first to try to pull her back, but then just stroking it. It felt so soft, gleaming where the city lights that passed through the blinds touched it. But finally Dinah crawled back up to her.
“Tell me if I’m doing this wrong,” Dinah said, lowering herself to Barbara’s sex.
Barbara felt a tremor run through her. As good as Dinah’s lips had felt against hers, they felt impossibly better on her cunt. At first Dinah took it slow, nuzzling and licking, but eventually she experimented with nipping at Barbara’s folds and pushing her tongue in deep. Every time Barbara thought she would get used to what Dinah was doing, the blonde tried something different. Her hands cupped Barbara’s ass or breasts or thighs, or reached up to feel her face. Barbara kissed her fingers. Then their hands locked together as Dinah sucked vigorously, making Barbara feel like she was lighting up as her pussy lips were pulled into Dinah’s mouth and then allowed to settle back.
One of Dinah’s hands went away, leaving Barbara to clasp the other in both of hers. Barbara looked down to see Dinah was on her knees, hips swaying in the air, body writhing as one hand pressed between her legs. Barbara wished she could do that for her.
“Is that good?” Dinah asked, after briefly stopping for an orgasm to unclench her. Her face was resting against Barbara’s lower belly, breath tickling her pubic hair.
“It’s good, it’s so good…” Barbara petted her friend’s brow, before grabbing her hair again and pulling her back down. “More.”
Dinah smiled and started again. This time, the brief absence had Barbara on a hair-trigger. She gasped as Dinah instantly hit her hot spots. Dinah knew exactly how Barbara wanted to be touched. Her hands came up and settled on Barbara’s stomach, working their way up, but as soon as Barbara felt the warm moistness of one she had it grabbed by the wrist and tugged to her lips. Dinah’s taste was indescribable, but she savored every drop of it.
Dinah had finally settled on a good rhythm, teasing, prolonging, exquisite. Her lips would brush against Barbara’s clit, never enough to get used to, then she would lick her pussy, her tongue speeding up until she pulled back, maddeningly laying another kiss around the belly button. Barbara couldn’t take it anymore. She reached down and rubbed her clit with the heel of her hand. When she came, it was totally unexpected. The pleasure had been building so violently she couldn’t imagine it ending, like a fire burning so hot it couldn’t be snuffed out. Her orgasm was long and breathless, a scream that turned into a gasp that settled into a long, drawn-out moan.
Dinah crawled once more up against Barbara, who felt the smooth enamel feel of her panties as they brushed against her stomach. Barbara only managed to unbutton her shirt before sleep took her, Dinah’s hand lazily caressing the exposed skin of her chest and stomach. They were both as tired as they were sated, and Dinah’s arms wrapped around Barbara greedily, perfectly. Barbara had wanted that for as long as Dinah had wanted to do it.
The too-small bed turned out to be not such a problem after all.
In the morning, they were woken by the sound of the AC coming on. Barbara rolled Dinah over and finally got off the panties that had been haunting her dreams, working the blonde to orgasm with three fingers in her sex. They stayed in bed for most of the afternoon, until hunger and hygiene forced them to abandon it. Then Barbara noticed that the Justice League had sent her thirty-two urgent messages and it was back to work. Dinah fixed her brunch as Barbara resolved the Vandal Savage situation.
Neither of them saw Barbara’s fortune being swept under the bed by the AC. It read ‘nothing is certain in this life.’
***
Helena was nothing like Dinah. Dinah was a beautiful warrior’s soul in a deceptively attractive shell, layered like a Russian doll, the real mixture of strength and beauty hidden so you could never get more than a glimpse of it. Barbara liked to think she had seen more of it than anyone else, but she guessed Dinah preferred someone who only saw the parts she wanted them to see. Someone like Ollie.
Helena was all weapon, all sex, what you see was what you got. Bloodied and bandaged after a mission, they’d sat in the kitchenette of the Metropolis base, silent as hunters waiting for their prey. Barbara ate ice cream, Helena drank beer. When Helena finished the six-pack, she kissed Barbara. She didn’t taste like liquor. She tasted like blood. Barbara didn’t mind.
They had barely begun to kiss before Helena was ripping off Barbara’s clothes. They went to the floor, grinding, grunting, fucking. Helena stopped just when Barbara was getting good and into it, walking off with her hips swaying. Barbara laid there, her body cooling on the porcelain floor, until Helena came back. All she wore was a strap-on. She jacked the dildo like a question and Barbara said yes.
Dinah and her had never used toys, but there were a lot of things Barbara had never done with Dinah.
***
She never technically had sex with Zinda. It was more of a make-out session. Zinda had a tendency to throw herself at anyone when she was drunk. Barbara had even seen Barda wiping off a faceful of red lipstick marks, looking utterly frazzled. She and Dinah had had a good laugh over that.
Being with Zinda was nothing more than a hand up her shirt and a tongue down her throat until Zinda had settled into an awkward embrace, head resting on Barbara’s chest.
“S’okay, skipper. I still think you’re the best.”
They went to sleep like that, and when Barbara woke up, Zinda was gone to nurse her hangover.
***
Dick was Dick. He had a spectrum, but none of it was much of a surprise. There was the Batman side of the spectrum, which Barbara tried to mitigate, but she could only really ride out (Kory was the one who’d been good at that). And there was the Dick side of the spectrum, where he was charming and sensitive and perfect. Barbara couldn’t fault him for that, since she had a spectrum too. There were times when all she wanted was to be alone so no one could hurt her, and times when she could admit she needed someone.
Once, they were in the same city while their spectrums were all synced up, Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson, no masks. It was fun, but it couldn’t last. In a way, it was as much about comfort as Zinda.
Eventually, they were able to admit that they’d circled each other too many times to ever find their way back to each other. Four months later, when Barbara saw the tabloid cover of Dick and Kory in the check-out aisle, she didn’t feel bitter so much as the numb joy a prisoner experiences when he hears someone has been paroled. That, and a sense of jealousy.
***
Helena mentioned it to her first, in a knowing way that didn’t judge. Barbara did that to herself. She hated herself for feeling good about the divorce, for the heartache Dinah must be feeling. She kept a constant eye on the proceedings, the way Green Arrow and Black Canary reshuffled to different teams. There was a yearning in her heart she hadn’t known she was able to feel anymore. Finally, she picked up the phone.
“Dinah? I miss you.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 02:30 am (UTC)Damn them for ending BoP anyway.
So thanks for the happy trip down memory lane. Or at least the femslash version of memory lane. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 04:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 03:42 pm (UTC)Power Girl on a sybian... that is hot. (But I feel a little sorry for the sybian... did it survive?)
no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 05:44 pm (UTC)I love the way you write the Birds. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 06:54 pm (UTC)I had to check the ending first to make sure it's not going to be Helana, because IT COULD NEVOR BE HELENA, with the way Babs & Dinah started and how they tried to repeat a quick fast-forward version of it with Helena.
So yeah, drink. *scuffles off*
no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-20 10:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-20 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-21 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-21 10:47 am (UTC)thanks for sharing
WS
no subject
Date: 2009-07-21 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-23 10:59 pm (UTC)You capture Barbara's inner workings (hell, all the Bird's inner workings) so well!!
Barbara had even seen Barda wiping off a faceful of red lipstick marks, looking utterly frazzled.
Hahaha, oh yeah, totally. Gotta love Zinda. That Barda memorial issue definitely had me sniffling!
“Dinah? I miss you.”
And with one sentence, you both break my heart and mend it again. This is absolutely perfect, thank you so much for sharing it!
no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 09:12 am (UTC)