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seriousficTitle: Five Ways To Cure Insomnia
Fandom: Birds of Prey
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,098
Characters/Pairings: Scott/Barda, Dinah, Barbara, references to Helena/Zinda
Summary: Barda has insomnia. The Birds of Prey help out. Helena gets drunk.
“Rapturous dogs!” Barda spat, hefting her Mega-Rod. “You will not take this planet's--”
She broke off as a thick yawn forced its way out of her mouth. The slavering Parademon horde paused in its slavering, looking around at each other as Barda continued to yawn. Finally, the sound trailed off, leaving Barda smacking her lips a few times. She ground the heel of her hand into her eye, rubbing some leftover sleep away, then surged forward, Mega-Rod swinging.
***
“So what was that all about?” Dinah asked afterward, sharing wet naps with the other Birds to get the Parademon bloodstains off.
“I haven't been getting much sleep lately,” Barda admitted, dripping with gore, but only using her wet naps to wipe off her Mega-Rod. “Insomnia.”
Dinah immediately sat down beside Barda with maternal concern. The other Birds rolled their eyes at her den mothering. “Does anyone know any cures for insomnia?”
***
“Now whatey tel' ya?” Helena slurred, then tried to remember what she'd told Barda, oh so many beers ago. “Jus' get enuff beerses in you 'n' I conk rite...”
She collapsed facedown on the bar.
Barda examined her shotglass before adding it to the pyramid she'd built. “I'll give her a ride home.”
***
“Now, ya didn't hear it from me,” Zinda paused to wink, a gesture that Barda confusedly repeated, “but the absolute best cure for insomnia is a nice case of whoopee made beforehand.”
“Whoopee?” Barda repeated.
“You know... 'whoopee!'” Zinda yelled, drawing a few looks from the other bar-goers and a muffled 'yes pleaze' from the otherwise snoring Helena.
“Ah. Coitus.” Barda nodded. “I am familiar with that.”
“So? Just phone up that husband of yours and tell him to make an escape...” Zinda leaned over to whisper in Barda's ear, “into yer cooch!”
“Yes pleaze,” Helena yawned.
Barda gave Helena a look that would be offended if she knew what to be offended about, then turned back to Zinda. “My husband is away on business.”
“Aww, shucks. He seemed like a Mustang. Well, there's always yer marital aids.”
“Yes--” Helena got out before Barda pushed a hand over her mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“Ya know... like your Mega-Rod? Looming mighty? In your... hand?”
Barda blinked a few times, canting her head this way and that as she tried to figure out Zinda's repeatedly winking innuendo. Finally, her eyes widened with understanding.
“Zinda, that is disgusting.” In a huff, Barda slung Helena over her shoulder and went on her way.
***
“Voila!” Dinah shouted, presenting Barda with a bowl of soup. It filled the room with a heady smell. On the couch, Helena took one sniff and rolled over, landing on the round with a barely audible “no thaaaanks”.
Barda looked at it, appraising it as she would an assassin. “What is it?”
“My famous 'ma cherie' soup. Always put me out like a light when my mom made it. Try some.”
Apprehensively, Barda took a spoonful of the concoction. She gave it another look, interrogating it with her eyes, then put it in her mouth with a mental shrug.
“Good, isn't it? Ollie taught me everything he knows!”
Barda put the spoon down. “Do I have to eat all of it?”
***
“And where'd you leave Helena?” Barbara asked in the wee hours of the morning, once Barda had finished explaining how she'd ended up in the Clocktower, bleary and wavering from side to side while wearing a cape over her pajamas.
“On Dinah's couch. She seemed comfortable.”
“As long as you didn't leave her black-out drunk with Zinda. That's just asking for trouble. Remember the last time?”
“Yes. Have you figured out yet how they got enough fuel to reach Siberia? Or where Zinda's panties were?”
“At this point, I don't really want to know. So, you still can't get to sleep?”
Barda held up a finger, calling for a pause, while she finished yawning. “No.”
“Well, I do have a little way of hacking the human sleep cycle.”
“Do you mind if I use your bathroom first? I have to hack the human digestive system.”
“Don't mock my hacking. I'll hack your face.” Barbara yawned. “I'm getting a little tired myself. Hurry up and I'll show you how I get to sleep.”
When Barda returned, Barbara had slipped into a bed that had risen out of the computer room's floor. A keyboard and monitor had swung on an arm to where she was lying against a pillow. She typed in a few commands before handing Barda a set of headphones like the ones she was currently wearing.
“Batman? Come in please.”
“I am Batman. What is it, Oracle?”
“I was just wondering if you could tell me a little about your mission.”
“My mission. It's a demanding mistress, one that desires and demands more than any lover, any son. It sets the price of my eternal exchange—my own life for that of countless thousands. My sanity to negate the insanity of humanity. My power to cancel out weakness. My wealth to fight poverty. It's not a small price, but it's one worth paying.”
“When is it supposed to work?” Barda asked Barbara.
The redhead was already snoring.
***
At four AM, Scott Free tip-toed into his bedroom to find Barda still awake, lazily occupied with a copy of Jane's Infantry Weapons. Upon seeing him, she gave a weary smile and slipped a bookmark in. Scott was glad she'd found a use for those stilettos she'd ordered.
“You didn't have to wait up for me,” he said, setting down his duffle and discarding his clothes into the hamper. “I didn't even know I was going to get home this early, but the space station I was performing on kind of... exploded? Imploded? One of those two.”
“I didn't wait up. It's this damned insomnia.”
Scott cooed in sympathy. “Maybe it's your posture,” he suggested, slipping under the covers beside her. His hands moved over her body, easing her deeper into the pillow, slipping his arm under her neck to support it a little, laying his other hand on her stomach. “Oh, and try taking deeper breaths.”
She took a deep breath, lifting his hand and bearing it down when she exhaled. Scott curled closer to her as she eased her arm around him.
“Well?”
Barda pulled the covers up to her neck, eyes gleefully closed. “I think it's working. I'm glad I'll be well-rested tomorrow. I intend to give you a proper welcome home then.”
Knowing that, Scott found it a bit hard to get to sleep.
Fandom: Birds of Prey
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,098
Characters/Pairings: Scott/Barda, Dinah, Barbara, references to Helena/Zinda
Summary: Barda has insomnia. The Birds of Prey help out. Helena gets drunk.
“Rapturous dogs!” Barda spat, hefting her Mega-Rod. “You will not take this planet's--”
She broke off as a thick yawn forced its way out of her mouth. The slavering Parademon horde paused in its slavering, looking around at each other as Barda continued to yawn. Finally, the sound trailed off, leaving Barda smacking her lips a few times. She ground the heel of her hand into her eye, rubbing some leftover sleep away, then surged forward, Mega-Rod swinging.
***
“So what was that all about?” Dinah asked afterward, sharing wet naps with the other Birds to get the Parademon bloodstains off.
“I haven't been getting much sleep lately,” Barda admitted, dripping with gore, but only using her wet naps to wipe off her Mega-Rod. “Insomnia.”
Dinah immediately sat down beside Barda with maternal concern. The other Birds rolled their eyes at her den mothering. “Does anyone know any cures for insomnia?”
***
“Now whatey tel' ya?” Helena slurred, then tried to remember what she'd told Barda, oh so many beers ago. “Jus' get enuff beerses in you 'n' I conk rite...”
She collapsed facedown on the bar.
Barda examined her shotglass before adding it to the pyramid she'd built. “I'll give her a ride home.”
***
“Now, ya didn't hear it from me,” Zinda paused to wink, a gesture that Barda confusedly repeated, “but the absolute best cure for insomnia is a nice case of whoopee made beforehand.”
“Whoopee?” Barda repeated.
“You know... 'whoopee!'” Zinda yelled, drawing a few looks from the other bar-goers and a muffled 'yes pleaze' from the otherwise snoring Helena.
“Ah. Coitus.” Barda nodded. “I am familiar with that.”
“So? Just phone up that husband of yours and tell him to make an escape...” Zinda leaned over to whisper in Barda's ear, “into yer cooch!”
“Yes pleaze,” Helena yawned.
Barda gave Helena a look that would be offended if she knew what to be offended about, then turned back to Zinda. “My husband is away on business.”
“Aww, shucks. He seemed like a Mustang. Well, there's always yer marital aids.”
“Yes--” Helena got out before Barda pushed a hand over her mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“Ya know... like your Mega-Rod? Looming mighty? In your... hand?”
Barda blinked a few times, canting her head this way and that as she tried to figure out Zinda's repeatedly winking innuendo. Finally, her eyes widened with understanding.
“Zinda, that is disgusting.” In a huff, Barda slung Helena over her shoulder and went on her way.
***
“Voila!” Dinah shouted, presenting Barda with a bowl of soup. It filled the room with a heady smell. On the couch, Helena took one sniff and rolled over, landing on the round with a barely audible “no thaaaanks”.
Barda looked at it, appraising it as she would an assassin. “What is it?”
“My famous 'ma cherie' soup. Always put me out like a light when my mom made it. Try some.”
Apprehensively, Barda took a spoonful of the concoction. She gave it another look, interrogating it with her eyes, then put it in her mouth with a mental shrug.
“Good, isn't it? Ollie taught me everything he knows!”
Barda put the spoon down. “Do I have to eat all of it?”
***
“And where'd you leave Helena?” Barbara asked in the wee hours of the morning, once Barda had finished explaining how she'd ended up in the Clocktower, bleary and wavering from side to side while wearing a cape over her pajamas.
“On Dinah's couch. She seemed comfortable.”
“As long as you didn't leave her black-out drunk with Zinda. That's just asking for trouble. Remember the last time?”
“Yes. Have you figured out yet how they got enough fuel to reach Siberia? Or where Zinda's panties were?”
“At this point, I don't really want to know. So, you still can't get to sleep?”
Barda held up a finger, calling for a pause, while she finished yawning. “No.”
“Well, I do have a little way of hacking the human sleep cycle.”
“Do you mind if I use your bathroom first? I have to hack the human digestive system.”
“Don't mock my hacking. I'll hack your face.” Barbara yawned. “I'm getting a little tired myself. Hurry up and I'll show you how I get to sleep.”
When Barda returned, Barbara had slipped into a bed that had risen out of the computer room's floor. A keyboard and monitor had swung on an arm to where she was lying against a pillow. She typed in a few commands before handing Barda a set of headphones like the ones she was currently wearing.
“Batman? Come in please.”
“I am Batman. What is it, Oracle?”
“I was just wondering if you could tell me a little about your mission.”
“My mission. It's a demanding mistress, one that desires and demands more than any lover, any son. It sets the price of my eternal exchange—my own life for that of countless thousands. My sanity to negate the insanity of humanity. My power to cancel out weakness. My wealth to fight poverty. It's not a small price, but it's one worth paying.”
“When is it supposed to work?” Barda asked Barbara.
The redhead was already snoring.
***
At four AM, Scott Free tip-toed into his bedroom to find Barda still awake, lazily occupied with a copy of Jane's Infantry Weapons. Upon seeing him, she gave a weary smile and slipped a bookmark in. Scott was glad she'd found a use for those stilettos she'd ordered.
“You didn't have to wait up for me,” he said, setting down his duffle and discarding his clothes into the hamper. “I didn't even know I was going to get home this early, but the space station I was performing on kind of... exploded? Imploded? One of those two.”
“I didn't wait up. It's this damned insomnia.”
Scott cooed in sympathy. “Maybe it's your posture,” he suggested, slipping under the covers beside her. His hands moved over her body, easing her deeper into the pillow, slipping his arm under her neck to support it a little, laying his other hand on her stomach. “Oh, and try taking deeper breaths.”
She took a deep breath, lifting his hand and bearing it down when she exhaled. Scott curled closer to her as she eased her arm around him.
“Well?”
Barda pulled the covers up to her neck, eyes gleefully closed. “I think it's working. I'm glad I'll be well-rested tomorrow. I intend to give you a proper welcome home then.”
Knowing that, Scott found it a bit hard to get to sleep.
