Title:  Dancing in the Dark

Author:  Harper

Email: Xfjnky2@yahoo.com

Rating:  NC-17

Fandom:  Birds of Prey

Pairing:  Barbara/Helena, established

Archiving: www.realmoftheshadow.com/harper.htm

A/N:  ::blushing, grinning an embarrassed little grin::  I was going to write something for the Porn Wars, but this happened instead.  It’s a part of this highly distressing fluffy funk I’ve been stuck in lately (I even stole the title from a sappy country song).  Something’s gone horribly wrong, and I can’t seem to stop it.  Regardless, while there may be sex, I failed miserably at the porn part.  I should know, because some of my writing has been accused of porn-ish overtones on occasion, and this is nothing like those.

It’s un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine.  If you’d like to send feedback, I’d love to receive it.  I promise to get back to everyone soon (I’m horrible with correspondence).  I’ll be at Xfjnky2@yahoo.com.

Barbara awoke to the slide of slim fingers tracing a path up and down her abdomen and warm, naked flesh pressed firmly to her back.  It took her a second to clear her mind of the inertia of sleep, to blink her eyes and remember where she was, but when she did, she smiled.

“Hey,” she rasped sleepily, struggling to turn over, to face her bedtime companion.

Strong arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling gently, and seconds later, Barbara found herself with her cheek resting on a strong shoulder, nose brushing the curve of a sharp jaw.

A small, chagrined smile met her, a self-effacing laugh tickling past her ear.  “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Helena replied softly, voice low in the near reverent silence of the room.

Arching up slightly, neck straining with the effort, Barbara squinted in the direction of the alarm clock, fuzzy and blurred bright red numbers soon easing themselves into a form she could discern.  “What are you doing back so soon?” she asked, vaguely confused.  “When you signed off, I thought you said you were going to head over to No Man’s Land for a while.  It’s only been an hour.”

When Helena spoke, there was embarrassment lacing through her tone, and Barbara imagined she would have borne witness to the slow flush of caramel skin if she’d been able to see much at all in the darkness.  “I did go,” the brunette protested gently.  “I went, and now I’m back.”

Snuggling even closer to the lithe form beside her, Barbara traced her nose along the curve of Helena’s jaw to bury it in short, damp hair, a long, contented indrawn breath completing the move.  “Maybe, but you’ve been here long enough to take a shower.  If I were to do the math, and we both know I can, I’d have to estimate that you weren’t there for much longer than twenty minutes.  Did something happen?”

Sighing, shifting slightly so that she was on her side facing Barbara, one leg sliding easily between the other woman’s and the press of their breasts together an immediate, delicious tease, Helena echoed, “Happen?  What could have happened?”

“I don’t know,” Barbara replied archly, right hand falling to rest between them, fingertips tickling gently against the brunette’s belly.  “I just didn’t expect you back this soon.”

Growling in a playful mock of frustration, Helena wiggled infinitesimally closer, sliding into the pocket of warmth Barbara’s sleeping body had created amongst the sheets.  “You want me to go back out and not come home for a few hours?” she quizzed, light sarcasm woven through the words, teasing but not cruel.

“Of course not,” Barbara breathed, fingers tracing up until they were sliding over the soft curve of a gently rounded hip, nails teasing the sensitive skin of Helena’s lower back.  “You just don’t go out as much as you used to, and I wanted you to have fun.”

“I did,” Helena promised.  “I went, I had fun, and then I left.”

Cocking a disbelieving eyebrow, Barbara none the less drawled, “Okay.  I believe you, though how you could do all of that in little over twenty minutes…”

“Barbara,” Helena broke in, voice cracking with exasperation as she realized the other woman simply wasn’t going to let the topic die a well deserved natural death, “it was just… I didn’t want to be there.  I thought I did, but when I walked through the doors and saw everybody, I realized the only person I had any desire to see was you, and you weren’t there.  So, I left.”

Barbara was quiet for a short, stunned moment.  “Oh,” she exhaled, eyes wide in surprise.  “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Helena muttered, gaze drifting down to focus on the edge of the pillowcase, studying it with an intense focus it wasn’t intricate enough to deserve.

Strong fingers pulled her chin up, but before Helena had time to come up with something to ease her embarrassment, much less say it, she found her lips otherwise occupied.  Barbara’s kiss was light, little more than the barest brush of skin, but it played against her over and over until Helena moaned at the frustration imparted by the teasing kisses and pressed forward, tongue flicking out softly to taste the other woman, to increase the contact.

With a breathy chuckle, Barbara pulled away, nipping sharply at Helena’s chin before settling back into her pillow once more, green eyes hooded and unreadable in the darkness.  “I love you,” she said softly, the words coming with insane ease, propelled forward on a wave of near blinding emotion.  Ever the empiricist, Barbara tried for a moment to analyze it all, her body’s near painful longing to be pressed tightly against Helena, the dull throb of her lips, already missing the soft contact and aching for more.  But, it didn’t make sense, and in-depth examinations of her need were vaguely frightening, so she pushed the thoughts away in favor of the mindless and ultimately less disturbing call of unchecked feelings.

“Do you?” Helena questioned, the words nothing but a tease as she regained a bit of her equilibrium, and Barbara smiled broadly.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” she replied, smile settling down into a crooked grin.  It was one Helena had always found particularly enchanting, and she couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and steal another long, sweet kiss.

When she finally pulled away, her breathing was ragged, her voice husky with arousal.  “I’ll love you forever,” she vowed, words low and fervent, eyes squeezing tightly shut at the intensity of the emotion rolling through her, surprised yet again by its strength.  She didn’t know why that was.  Things had always been so much more with Barbara.  More real, more profound, even more painful, and yet each time she felt it, it was like experiencing it for the first time, all raw, searing heat and vast, limitless longing.  She figured that she should have been used to it after so long, but she wasn’t.  Some part of her imagined she never would be.

“I’m glad you came home,” Barbara admitted in a rush, needing to say the words but somehow embarrassed by the need in them.  “I hate falling asleep without you here.  It feels so lonely.”

Pulled back from her thoughts, Helena smiled, the move one of contentment and amusement.  “Uh-huh,” she hummed in disbelief.  “That’s why you were laying here, tossing and turning and not able to sleep until I got back.”

Blushing, Barbara rolled her eyes.  “Just because I can do it doesn’t mean I don’t still hate it,” she protested, glancing away for a moment, using the respite to take hold of her thoughts.  “And, it’ll never mean I like it.”

“Guess you’re just stuck with me then,” Helena said lightly, reaching out to secure a strand of long red hair behind the shell of Barbara’s ear.  Her touch lingered there, fingertips tracing a line down the curve of a strong cheekbone to brush across full lips.  “For the good of your mental wellbeing, at least.”

“I guess I’m lucky you’re so accommodating,” Barbara murmured wryly, one arm sneaking out to wrap along the contours of the back of Helena’s neck, a soft tug urging the brunette closer.

Easily following where the other woman led, Helena smirked, then whispered, “Shut up and kiss me, will you Barbara.  Give me a proper welcome home.”

The redhead grinned languidly, body boneless in the comforting, familiar warm between them.  “What kind of woman do you take me for?” she teased, keeping them apart.  She could feel the heat of Helena’s breath searing into her, a delicious taunt, but held back, not yet ready to relinquish her hold on the other woman.

There was a soft chuckle, and then, in a low drawl, Helena replied, “There are about a hundred ways I can answer that question, Barbara, and only one of them won’t get me in trouble.”

Eyes narrowing mischievously, Barbara eased back another few inches, putting a hand out to stop Helena’s pursuit of her.  “Maybe one day, you can drop by here after sweep and we’ll go out together.  Any of your old hang-outs, you just pick it,” she said conversationally, nearly chuckling at Helena’s exasperated groan.

“Barbara,” the brunette whined, wiggling closer despite the palm at her sternum.  “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.  Just please, please, please stop talking.”

Outright laughing at the pleading, Barbara shook her head.  “Maybe you’ll take me somewhere where I can watch you dance,” she drawled, eyelids drooping involuntarily with arousal as the teasing words conjured up the image of a lithe Helena backlit by flashing lights and a soft haze of smoke, body moving with the sinfully seductive grace that was inherently Helena to the beat of some primitive, primal bass.

“Watch me dance?” Helena questioned impertinently, breaking Barbara out of her mood.  “No watching allowed, sweetheart.  If we go, I’m only dancing if you’re out there with me.”

Rolling her eyes, one hand automatically and unconsciously smoothing down the sheet covering her hips, Barbara scoffed, “Oh please… I wasn’t even really that good at it before, so I’d say my ability is non-existent now.”

“I’m not dancing without you,” Helena said, voice sing-song, fingers sneaking past Barbara’s watchful gaze to settle lightly in the dip just above the curve of her hip.

Sighing forlornly, enjoying the teasing banter, Barbara muttered a mock depressed, “One more sexual fantasy down the drain.”

Taking advantage of the other woman’s apparently playful turn, Helena rolled on top of Barbara before the other woman could move, cheek pressing firmly to the other woman’s upper chest as her hand flailed about on the nightstand.  Startled and confused by the sudden, quite unexpected, and apparently nonsensical move, Barbara looked down, the fingers of one hand winding through short, brown locks.

“What are you doing?” she asked, bewildered, as Helena let out a short yelp of triumph, and sat up on her haunches, straddling Barbara’s midsection as she pointed what looked suspiciously like the remote at the entertainment center.

Ignoring the question, Helena tapped the power button with her thumb.  “Tell me where it’s at,” she said enticingly, smiling down gently at the obviously baffled redhead.  “I know you’ve got it in the changer, Barbara.  You’re a freak for all that last century music.”

Eyes narrowing in faux affront, Barbara huffed, “You’re going to have to be a little more specific.  My freakiness extends to a range of things.”

Stopping her motions, smiling wickedly and taking a short break to bend down and deliver a searing, breath-stealing kiss, Helena drawled, “Oh, trust me… I know.  Your freakiness makes me very, very happy, but stop trying to distract me.  You know what I’m talking about… those sad old singers you always made me listen to on the way to school.”

Rolling her eyes slightly, Barbara muttered, “Disc three.”  Then, eyes twinkling, she added, “Never knew you were a fan of having mood music, Hel.”

Tossing the remote away nonchalantly as the soft strains of Etta James’ “At Last” filled the room, Helena shook her head.  “I’m always up for experimentation, Barbara.  You should know that by now.”

Blushing slightly, remembering in mouth-watering detail some of the ostensibly more adventurous encounters they’d shared since initiating the sexual aspect of their relationship, Barbara grinned the small little half-grin she knew drove her companion crazy.  “Oh, I know,” she rasped, voice suddenly gravel-rough.

Shivering at the tone, Helena shook her head, clearing away some of the erotic inertia weighing her down, trapping her in a honey-thick layer of desire.  “Don’t distract me,” she growled playfully, insinuating her hands between Barbara’s back and the sheets, sliding them down slowly until they were cupping the other woman’s full buttocks.

With a sudden jerk, she pulled the two of the upright, and with a startled cry, Barbara wrapped her arms tightly around Helena’s neck for balance, bringing their faces dangerously close together.  Taking a moment to make sure she wasn’t going to topple forward, Helena eased back off the bed until she was standing, Barbara’s legs parted around her torso, her hands underneath the other woman, supporting her.  The redhead gasped as they stood, tightening her grip momentarily as a wave of panicked vertigo washed over her, then leaned back slightly, a questioning look in her eyes.

“Hel?” she asked, the single syllable conveying her puzzlement quite effectively.

Blushing softly, Helena leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on the other woman’s lips.  As she pulled away, she whispered awkwardly, “Well, I always have wanted to dance with you.”

Melting slightly at the shy admission, Barbara let her head fall forward, nestling on the curve of Helena’s shoulder, lips teasing the smooth expanse of throat she found there.  As the brunette began to move, shuffling them gently from side to side and easing them around in a slow circle, she sighed.  She’d never considered herself overly romantic, nor subject to the whims of overly romantic gestures, but there was something about the moment that let her know it was one she’d remember forever.  Maybe it was the way their naked flesh brushed together as they shifted, maybe it was the way Helena had leaned her head over trustingly so that it was pressed softly to her own.  Maybe it was the soft croon of the blues in the background or the strength of the arms holding her up or the slight gradations of alternating shadows dancing across them as they swayed.  Whatever it was, she almost felt like crying, not only tears of happiness but maybe of sadness too, because sometimes, when things seemed so perfect, she almost felt the need to mourn all the moments that would follow, trying hopelessly to live up to a standard that couldn’t be reached.

As Etta James made way for the tinny piano tinkle of Billie Holiday’s “The Very Thought of You”, Helena stiffened, pulling back slightly.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, voice soft with concern, the searing heat of what she knew to be tears burning into her shoulder.

Looking up, eyes still shimmering, Barbara smiled.  “Absolutely nothing.  I was just thinking about how you make my life beautiful.”

Blushing deeply, the flush visible even in the darkness, Helena dropped her gaze shyly to the floor.  “You’re turning into a mushball, Barbara,” she said lightly, though the way she’d bitten down on her bottom lip, not quite suppressing the grin teasing the corners of her mouth, let the other woman know her words were most certainly appreciated.

Kissing her way up the line of the brunette’s jaw until she was at her lips, mouth moving against them even as she whispered, Barbara said, “It’s not my fault.  You have that kind of effect on me.”

Moaning, falling into the kiss, Helena stopped moving, instinctively clutching Barbara in to her more tightly.  Hands wove through her hair and a warm tongue invaded her mouth, and Helena stopped breathing, caught up in the delicious pull of it all.  She was drowning in a sea of everything she loved best, and she took the feeling, carefully folded it up and stored it away with the other, painfully few perfect moments she’d collected over the years, her own private treasure.

Stumbling blindly in the direction of the bed, she lowered Barbara down to the mattress gently, crawling up after her, skin rasping softly against the sheets.  Still crouched between the redhead’s spread legs, she buried her hands in the mattress, shoulders tensed and eyes closed tightly as they continued to kiss.

Without warning, Barbara pulled away with a gasp, an unintelligible moan rumbling past her lips as she pushed on Helena’s shoulders with concerted intent.  Inching back, eyes clouded and confused, Helena tried to vocalize a question but couldn’t seem to manage it, vocabulary disappearing in its entirety at first sight of the look in Barbara’s eyes.

“Over,” the other woman growled, wrapping her arms around Helena’s shoulders as the brunette moved, flipping the both of them so that Barbara was resting on top of her, the heavy weight of her body pressing her deliciously deep into the mattress.

Struggling up on her elbows, Barbara took in the woman laying calmly beneath her, a half smile on her face and eyes nearly black with arousal.  Grinning wickedly, she leaned down, long fiery red hair tumbling over her shoulders to trap them behind a silky curtain.  Rocking softly back and forth, balancing on her forearms, Barbara watched as Helena’s eyes fluttered shut, as her mouth fell open on a soundless moan.  Hands falling to the redhead’s hips, Helena helped shift Barbara’s body up and down, delighting in the silky smooth glide of skin on skin, and the heavy pressure of the other woman’s firmly muscled abdomen grinding against the vee of her thighs.  Drawing her legs up, bending her knees and wrapping her calves around the back of Barbara’s, she opened herself up further, shivering and gasping as the change in position resulted in a definite increase in sensation.

“I love seeing you like this,” Barbara said roughly, flicking her hair back over one shoulder, the tousled strands defying her to simply trickle back down, tickling Helena’s cheeks, her shoulders.

Moaning out her reply, Helena tightened her grip on Barbara’s sides, nearly snarling when Barbara tensed her muscles, refusing the help and holding herself painfully still.  Whimpering, still rocking up into the body above hers, Helena looked up, eyes wild.  “Please, Barbara,” she rasped breathlessly, fingers flexing almost painfully into the other woman’s flesh.

Shaking her head no, evil grin on her face, Barbara eased her body down until she was at Helena’s chest.  Licking her lips in anticipation, she virtually attacked the flesh in front of her, teeth scraping against sensitive skin, just barely on the pleasurable side of pain.  At the feel of those lips closing over her, sucking in flesh that soon felt raw under the concentrated attention being directed its way, Helena’s hands flew from Barbara’s hips, searching blindly for some kind of anchor.  She found none, fingers digging powerlessly into the sheets, head tossing back and forth against the softness of the pillow beneath her as Barbara moved down from her perch, tongue tracing a wet path down the tensing, clenching muscles of her abdomen until that mouth was perched above her sex, hot breath burning into her in searing pants.

A soft chuckle broke through the near psychotic haze of arousal trapping her, and Helena struggled to open her eyes, to figure out what was going on.

Barbara waited until bewildered blue eyes met her own, then smiled wolfishly.  “Watch me,” she said simply, green eyes narrowing in anticipation before lowering her head.

Helena nearly shot off the bed at the first touch of redhead’s tongue, one hand flailing about wildly, finally latching on to the steel bar above the headboard that Barbara used to maneuver.  Her other hand buried itself in thick red locks, tightening almost painfully as her body tensed.  Nonsense words, pleads, begs and curses flowing fluidly past her lips,  she watched Barbara watching her.  It was too much, the feel of the scorching velvet sandpaper of the other woman’s tongue, the wet heat and suction of her mouth, the razor sharp teasing edge of even teeth, and the moonlight glancing off darkened green eyes.

With a choked cry, she felt her back arch, her fingers tightening involuntarily as her body convulsed, blood rushing loudly past her ears as her vision went white, then gray, then nearly black as she fell to the bedding, exhausted and panting.  Barely aware of Barbara’s movements, that the other woman was there, kissing her softly and whispering words of comfort, she felt rock hard muscles slowly relax, leaving her drained and sated.

Head turning to the side wearily, eyes unfocused, she said weakly, voice little more than a whimper, “Just give me a minute, please.”

Chuckling softly, Barbara kissed her forehead gently, soft red hair teasing over the sharp edge of her chin.  “Don’t worry about me,” she said, voice deepened with amusement.  “I, uh… I didn’t want to wait.”

One brow arching in question, the move lacking the crisp impact it usually had, Helena slid her fingers over Barbara’s abdomen until she found her hand.  Tugging it to her lips, she traced her tongue over the dampness she found there, a smirk easing across her features as she did.

“Next time you’ll have to let me watch,” she said languidly, using the last of her strength to gather Barbara in her arms, snuggling lazily into the slightly sweaty curve of the redhead’s shoulder.

“Only if you go first,” Barbara said teasingly, sighing as she settled herself against Helena’s slim form, the combined body heat between them almost uncomfortable though she had absolutely no intention of moving.

Chuckling softly, Helena turned her head to the side, her nose brushing against the sharp line of the other woman’s jaw.  “Aren’t you glad I came home,” she said sleepily, the end of the sentence nearly disappearing into a yawn.

Pressing a soft kiss against Helena’s forehead, Barbara merely smiled, the gesture lost on her nearly unconscious bedpartner.

“Always,” she whispered, then drifted off to sleep herself.

The End

Harper Birds Of Prey Main Index