Fic: Theories | DCU/JLU | Renee/Helena | NC-17 | 1/1
Title: Theories
Fandom: DCU/DCAU (JLU)
Pairing/Characters: Renee Montoya/Helena Bertinelli, Charlie Szasz (aka Vic Sage)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,253
Prompt: For the 2008 DCU Femslash Porn Battle: Helena/Renee - new face
Summary: When the sharing of case information also reveals grief that neither woman has completely dealt with, Renee and Helena find comfort with each other.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: This is obviously drawing on Charlie and Helena's relationship in JLU, so I suppose it's a crossover with the comics. Takes place more or less in current continuity.
Theories
"I heard you were looking for me."
Renee doesn't turn at the sound of Huntress's voice, instead leaning against the balustrade to look out over the city and Gotham Harbor, halfway decent view that it is from the rooftop of her own apartment building. "You heard right. I have some information on a case that you might be interested in."
"Oh?"
"Something Charlie wasn't able to finish before..." Renee almost can't bring herself to say it, but she knows Charlie wouldn't have cared for minced words, "before he died."
She can feel the woman behind her tense, the air grow thick with apprehension as Helena absorbs the statement. It's well-known that Renee's predecessor and Huntress had been involved for a while; the tension is fully expected.
"What is it?" Helena asks after a moment, the hitch in her voice only barely audible.
At last, Renee turns to face her, pulling a tiny thumb drive from her pants pocket and presenting it. "Everything you ever wanted to know about the Dazani Corporation, and then some. Illegal dealings, human trafficking, tax evasion, poorly designed internet child porn sites, the works."
The pain in Helena's eyes at the revelation is clear to Renee, even partially covered by her purple mask. Deepening lines don't lie.
"It's enough to put every single one of the bastards behind bars for life," she expands, hoping it'll ease some of the other woman's discomfort; Charlie had told her how messy that investigation had been, how infuriated Helena had been to discover Dazani's connection to the child sex trade. "Thought you might want first dibs, before I take this to Gordon and the media."
But Helena remains silent after tucking away the thumb drive, staring at Renee with what the detective finally realizes isn't just frustration and relief over the case, and Renee's chest squeezes with empathy for the woman. They'd both lost him, after all.
"You have his face," Helena says at last, hands clenching into fists at her sides. "I didn't believe it, but..."
Renee takes a deep breath, and lays a gloved hand on Huntress's arm. "You want some coffee?"
Eyes flicker from beneath Helena's mask. Then, "Yeah. I... think I'd like that."
* * *
A few minutes later they're standing in Renee's kitchen, their cape, hat, and trench coat discarded, a pot of coffee brewing and a heavy silence lying around them like a fog. Awkward as hell, but not unexpected. Renee's glad that Helena's seeing some of Charlie's last work, at least, as much of his web of interconnected conspiratorial plots is pinned to her walls and cabinets - pushpins, string, and post-its everywhere.
"He was right about the plot to kill the Flash," Helena notes, scrutinizing a particular cluster of notes.
Renee half-smiles from beneath her mask. "He was. If there hadn't been so much else happening, we might have been able to stop it."
The other woman's shoulders droop at that, her head falling forward as she reaches up to skim fingers along a particular length of string. "No one ever took him seriously enough. So many lives might have been saved..."
"I did," Renee adds gently. "He made sure I did. And I'm glad I did."
Turning away from the pinned-up notes, Helena steps across the kitchen to stand face-to-face with the dark-haired woman, and strips off her own mask, dropping it on the counter. "I'm glad you did, too. He would be proud of the job you're doing. He--" She stops short, another hitch in her voice. "He'd be proud that you're doing his name justice."
Behind the thin mask of The Question, Renee can't decide whether she wants to smile or cry. God, Charlie wouldn't have wanted tears from either of them, but when Helena's fingers come up to trace her features beneath the mask, the tears start to slip down her cheeks anyway.
"You have no idea how much I miss him," Helena whispers.
With a lump growing in her throat, Renee manages, "I think I can guess. I might not have been involved with him, but he meant a lot to me. He was... a really good friend, when I didn't much have anyone else."
"He had that sort of effect on people that got to know him beyond the conspiracy freak and faceless man, I think."
"He did, at--"
But Renee's cut off by the sudden press of lips against hers through the thin material, hot and as tear-streaked as her own. Helena's got her pinned against the refrigerator by the shoulders, their bodies pressed together tightly, and Renee can't help but feel the mad pounding of the other woman's heart, the warm weight of the stronger body. The heft of grief is so strong that she gives herself over to the kiss with no resistance, lets Helena overpower her, even as part of her mind puts forth its token protest against it.
When the slightly taller woman pulls back from the kiss for air, Renee breathes, "This isn't a good idea," even as she finds that she doesn't care. Even if she is a pale copy of the original, it's been far too long, and Helena tastes far too good to let go of right now.
"Please... let me?" Huntress asks quietly, running fingers through Renee's curls where they've come loose from her ponytail. "I... know you're not him. Nothing could ever replace him. But..."
"It's okay," Renee relents, reaching for the tiny aerosol can in her pocket to take the mask off with.
But Helena catches her wrist gently. "Leave it on for now. Please?"
A nod, and the can is discarded, Renee's hands snaking around Helena's waist as the other woman's hands move to undo the buttons of Renee's shirt. Bodies pressing together once again, Helena dips her head down to nuzzle into Renee's hair, then begins dropping kisses along the side of her blank face, on her temple, her ear, down the soft skin of her neck, licking and sucking along the way and drawing out breathless moans of pleasure.
For her part, Renee can't stop the little contented sounds, doesn't care to as long as Helena doesn't mind, and she shifts to give the other woman better access to her neck and her clothes, pushing her hips forward to make it clear that she wants this, too. Sliding her hands down over Helena's perfectly curved bottom earns her a deep sigh in turn.
"I guess the rumors are true, then," Helena manages as she pulls Renee's shirt out from her pants and pushes the fabric back over her shoulders. "You have done this before."
"Card carrying lesbian, it's all true," Renee snickers, sliding off the shirt and toeing off her shoes as Helena unfastens her belt and pants.
Letting out an almost pained chuckle, the taller woman slides Renee's pants down over her hips roughly and buries her face in Renee's hair, breathing her scent deep. "Works for me."
But Renee is too caught up in the feeling of this woman's hands on her body and the weight of their shared loss to give coherency to another response at this point. She can't kiss her back properly, but she manages to nuzzle at Helena's collarbone through the thick fabric of her costume, hands working at the zipper in the back, even as Helena grips her by the hips hard enough to bruise.
It takes a few more moments of breathless fumbling and nips and caresses, but they both manage to wind up naked, pressed up against Renee's refrigerator, still, writhing together as lips find lips again through the thin mask, tongues barely tasting one another. Helena shoves a thigh between Renee's and rocks up against her tightly, cupping her face with one hand and reaching down to brush fingertips over her mound with the other. It only takes this little prompting for Renee to part her thighs even wider, and the other woman slides her hand down, dipping fingers between wet folds and flicking against Renee's clit.
A strangled cry of pleasure rips free from Renee's throat at the shock as sparks shot through her belly at the touch. She can't seem to breathe, suddenly, and as two long fingers push into her while Helena's thumb continues to circle her clit, Renee starts to keen wordlessly. Too much sensation, not enough friction, and her hips cant forward, eager for enough leverage to ride the other woman's fingers.
"Easy," Helena whispers throatily, riding Renee's thigh in turn. "Nhh... touch me. Please..."
Obliging, even as her eyes are rolling back in her head when Helena fucks her deeper, Renee grips Huntress's hip and reaches between her legs to stroke her. She's met with a tightly-strung, needy cry, and through her own haze of endorphins, Renee gives back flick for flick, caress for caress.
Her body starts to tighten quickly, as Helena tenses again beneath her careful ministrations, both women moving together and filling the apartment with needful, impatient sounds. She can't hold on much longer, and the world narrows down to just the two of them, breathing and rocking and stroking each other deep.
With a sob, Renee comes apart at last, shaking, holding onto Helena with a leg around her waist and an arm around her neck, and the other woman follows suit soon after, crying out as she shudders.
Both of them shivering together as the shock of orgasm fades, collapsing against the cool steel of the fridge behind them, Helena whispers, "Thank you."
* * * * *
Propped up on an elbow in her bed, Renee watches Helena sleep, watches the slow rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin sheet in the too-warm apartment. It was only natural that they moved into the bedroom after that first round in the kitchen, after burning off the worst of the grief that had been hanging over them both since Charlie died. They both needed this so badly, and Renee thinks Charlie would have happily approved of the irony of the brief tryst.
Of course, she's still not completely convinced that Helena didn't somehow use her as a substitute for the man, but that's neither here nor there at this point; the mask of the Question was finally discarded when they reached the bedroom. And now she's finding that - as she did last night - she doesn't much care. Even if Helena did, or does, use her that way, Renee kind of likes her. She can see what Charlie saw in her easily; Helena's formidable, in personality and physicality both.
Absently, Renee wonders if that pot of coffee is still any good. They're both going to need it, she's sure.
* * * * *
Waking to the sound of heavy curtains being drawn back, and sudden light pouring into the room, Helena groans and peeks one eye open to find Renee setting a tray down on the night table with two steaming mugs.
"Had to make a fresh pot. Hope you like it strong," Renee says as she sits on the edge of the bed. Helena notes her change into a very comfortable-looking set of cotton pajamas, and draws the sheet up a little higher, feeling a little exposed.
"Sure, thanks," she says blearily, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she sits up a little and accepts one of the mugs. The aroma kicks at least part of her brain into gear. "Um..." is all she can think to say when the gravity of the night before comes back to her in its entirety.
Renee gives a quirky smile, "Yeah, exactly," and she reaches out to brush a lock of dark hair back from Helena's face. "This is probably the most awkward morning after I've ever had."
Huntress looks up into Renee's dark eyes, seeing them for the first time in full daylight. Gone is the featureless mask of the Question, and in its place is a gorgeous woman. Helena can't believe she let herself think of Renee as as Charlie, version 2.0. This woman is nothing of he sort. "No kidding... Listen, I'm sorry for... I dunno, I'm just sorry."
"Don't be," the other woman shakes her head. "I'm not. And I'm sure Charlie's looking down at us with that enigmatic smirk of his. Probably contemplating a new theory about hero relations and female sexuality, and how it all fits into his ideas about the misogynistic bent of the American male."
At that, they both laugh, breaking the slight tension, and Helena cants her head to the side. "You have a pretty sick sense of humor, you know that?"
"Learned from the best. I was a real bitch before I met Charlie."
"Heh. You and me, both. Another factor for him to work into his theories, I suppose."
"Yeah." Giving another smile, Renee stands. "Well. I need to go get a shower, then I was thinking we could grab some breakfast, if you don't have any plans. Unless, of course, you think I'm being entirely too presumptive."
Helena almost giggles at the hint of apprehension in Renee's voice, but schools it into a sly smirk. "No plans. Just need to check in with O, and grab some civvies. There's this great diner that we could hit up, that Charlie used to love--"
"Gunga Diner, right," Renee nods, the tension leaving her posture. Turning to head for the bathroom, she's stopped by Helena's hand on her arm.
"Hey, is there room in there for two?" Now Helena's sure that she's the one being presumptive, but she can't help a hopeful look.
A grin spreads across the real face of the new Question. "Thought you'd never ask."
* * * * *
In his place among the stars, Charlie shakes his head, gives a featureless smile, and adds a post-it to a tangle of string, notes, and push pins. "It's about damned time."
* * * * *
Fandom: DCU/DCAU (JLU)
Pairing/Characters: Renee Montoya/Helena Bertinelli, Charlie Szasz (aka Vic Sage)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,253
Prompt: For the 2008 DCU Femslash Porn Battle: Helena/Renee - new face
Summary: When the sharing of case information also reveals grief that neither woman has completely dealt with, Renee and Helena find comfort with each other.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: This is obviously drawing on Charlie and Helena's relationship in JLU, so I suppose it's a crossover with the comics. Takes place more or less in current continuity.
Theories
"I heard you were looking for me."
Renee doesn't turn at the sound of Huntress's voice, instead leaning against the balustrade to look out over the city and Gotham Harbor, halfway decent view that it is from the rooftop of her own apartment building. "You heard right. I have some information on a case that you might be interested in."
"Oh?"
"Something Charlie wasn't able to finish before..." Renee almost can't bring herself to say it, but she knows Charlie wouldn't have cared for minced words, "before he died."
She can feel the woman behind her tense, the air grow thick with apprehension as Helena absorbs the statement. It's well-known that Renee's predecessor and Huntress had been involved for a while; the tension is fully expected.
"What is it?" Helena asks after a moment, the hitch in her voice only barely audible.
At last, Renee turns to face her, pulling a tiny thumb drive from her pants pocket and presenting it. "Everything you ever wanted to know about the Dazani Corporation, and then some. Illegal dealings, human trafficking, tax evasion, poorly designed internet child porn sites, the works."
The pain in Helena's eyes at the revelation is clear to Renee, even partially covered by her purple mask. Deepening lines don't lie.
"It's enough to put every single one of the bastards behind bars for life," she expands, hoping it'll ease some of the other woman's discomfort; Charlie had told her how messy that investigation had been, how infuriated Helena had been to discover Dazani's connection to the child sex trade. "Thought you might want first dibs, before I take this to Gordon and the media."
But Helena remains silent after tucking away the thumb drive, staring at Renee with what the detective finally realizes isn't just frustration and relief over the case, and Renee's chest squeezes with empathy for the woman. They'd both lost him, after all.
"You have his face," Helena says at last, hands clenching into fists at her sides. "I didn't believe it, but..."
Renee takes a deep breath, and lays a gloved hand on Huntress's arm. "You want some coffee?"
Eyes flicker from beneath Helena's mask. Then, "Yeah. I... think I'd like that."
* * *
A few minutes later they're standing in Renee's kitchen, their cape, hat, and trench coat discarded, a pot of coffee brewing and a heavy silence lying around them like a fog. Awkward as hell, but not unexpected. Renee's glad that Helena's seeing some of Charlie's last work, at least, as much of his web of interconnected conspiratorial plots is pinned to her walls and cabinets - pushpins, string, and post-its everywhere.
"He was right about the plot to kill the Flash," Helena notes, scrutinizing a particular cluster of notes.
Renee half-smiles from beneath her mask. "He was. If there hadn't been so much else happening, we might have been able to stop it."
The other woman's shoulders droop at that, her head falling forward as she reaches up to skim fingers along a particular length of string. "No one ever took him seriously enough. So many lives might have been saved..."
"I did," Renee adds gently. "He made sure I did. And I'm glad I did."
Turning away from the pinned-up notes, Helena steps across the kitchen to stand face-to-face with the dark-haired woman, and strips off her own mask, dropping it on the counter. "I'm glad you did, too. He would be proud of the job you're doing. He--" She stops short, another hitch in her voice. "He'd be proud that you're doing his name justice."
Behind the thin mask of The Question, Renee can't decide whether she wants to smile or cry. God, Charlie wouldn't have wanted tears from either of them, but when Helena's fingers come up to trace her features beneath the mask, the tears start to slip down her cheeks anyway.
"You have no idea how much I miss him," Helena whispers.
With a lump growing in her throat, Renee manages, "I think I can guess. I might not have been involved with him, but he meant a lot to me. He was... a really good friend, when I didn't much have anyone else."
"He had that sort of effect on people that got to know him beyond the conspiracy freak and faceless man, I think."
"He did, at--"
But Renee's cut off by the sudden press of lips against hers through the thin material, hot and as tear-streaked as her own. Helena's got her pinned against the refrigerator by the shoulders, their bodies pressed together tightly, and Renee can't help but feel the mad pounding of the other woman's heart, the warm weight of the stronger body. The heft of grief is so strong that she gives herself over to the kiss with no resistance, lets Helena overpower her, even as part of her mind puts forth its token protest against it.
When the slightly taller woman pulls back from the kiss for air, Renee breathes, "This isn't a good idea," even as she finds that she doesn't care. Even if she is a pale copy of the original, it's been far too long, and Helena tastes far too good to let go of right now.
"Please... let me?" Huntress asks quietly, running fingers through Renee's curls where they've come loose from her ponytail. "I... know you're not him. Nothing could ever replace him. But..."
"It's okay," Renee relents, reaching for the tiny aerosol can in her pocket to take the mask off with.
But Helena catches her wrist gently. "Leave it on for now. Please?"
A nod, and the can is discarded, Renee's hands snaking around Helena's waist as the other woman's hands move to undo the buttons of Renee's shirt. Bodies pressing together once again, Helena dips her head down to nuzzle into Renee's hair, then begins dropping kisses along the side of her blank face, on her temple, her ear, down the soft skin of her neck, licking and sucking along the way and drawing out breathless moans of pleasure.
For her part, Renee can't stop the little contented sounds, doesn't care to as long as Helena doesn't mind, and she shifts to give the other woman better access to her neck and her clothes, pushing her hips forward to make it clear that she wants this, too. Sliding her hands down over Helena's perfectly curved bottom earns her a deep sigh in turn.
"I guess the rumors are true, then," Helena manages as she pulls Renee's shirt out from her pants and pushes the fabric back over her shoulders. "You have done this before."
"Card carrying lesbian, it's all true," Renee snickers, sliding off the shirt and toeing off her shoes as Helena unfastens her belt and pants.
Letting out an almost pained chuckle, the taller woman slides Renee's pants down over her hips roughly and buries her face in Renee's hair, breathing her scent deep. "Works for me."
But Renee is too caught up in the feeling of this woman's hands on her body and the weight of their shared loss to give coherency to another response at this point. She can't kiss her back properly, but she manages to nuzzle at Helena's collarbone through the thick fabric of her costume, hands working at the zipper in the back, even as Helena grips her by the hips hard enough to bruise.
It takes a few more moments of breathless fumbling and nips and caresses, but they both manage to wind up naked, pressed up against Renee's refrigerator, still, writhing together as lips find lips again through the thin mask, tongues barely tasting one another. Helena shoves a thigh between Renee's and rocks up against her tightly, cupping her face with one hand and reaching down to brush fingertips over her mound with the other. It only takes this little prompting for Renee to part her thighs even wider, and the other woman slides her hand down, dipping fingers between wet folds and flicking against Renee's clit.
A strangled cry of pleasure rips free from Renee's throat at the shock as sparks shot through her belly at the touch. She can't seem to breathe, suddenly, and as two long fingers push into her while Helena's thumb continues to circle her clit, Renee starts to keen wordlessly. Too much sensation, not enough friction, and her hips cant forward, eager for enough leverage to ride the other woman's fingers.
"Easy," Helena whispers throatily, riding Renee's thigh in turn. "Nhh... touch me. Please..."
Obliging, even as her eyes are rolling back in her head when Helena fucks her deeper, Renee grips Huntress's hip and reaches between her legs to stroke her. She's met with a tightly-strung, needy cry, and through her own haze of endorphins, Renee gives back flick for flick, caress for caress.
Her body starts to tighten quickly, as Helena tenses again beneath her careful ministrations, both women moving together and filling the apartment with needful, impatient sounds. She can't hold on much longer, and the world narrows down to just the two of them, breathing and rocking and stroking each other deep.
With a sob, Renee comes apart at last, shaking, holding onto Helena with a leg around her waist and an arm around her neck, and the other woman follows suit soon after, crying out as she shudders.
Both of them shivering together as the shock of orgasm fades, collapsing against the cool steel of the fridge behind them, Helena whispers, "Thank you."
* * * * *
Propped up on an elbow in her bed, Renee watches Helena sleep, watches the slow rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin sheet in the too-warm apartment. It was only natural that they moved into the bedroom after that first round in the kitchen, after burning off the worst of the grief that had been hanging over them both since Charlie died. They both needed this so badly, and Renee thinks Charlie would have happily approved of the irony of the brief tryst.
Of course, she's still not completely convinced that Helena didn't somehow use her as a substitute for the man, but that's neither here nor there at this point; the mask of the Question was finally discarded when they reached the bedroom. And now she's finding that - as she did last night - she doesn't much care. Even if Helena did, or does, use her that way, Renee kind of likes her. She can see what Charlie saw in her easily; Helena's formidable, in personality and physicality both.
Absently, Renee wonders if that pot of coffee is still any good. They're both going to need it, she's sure.
* * * * *
Waking to the sound of heavy curtains being drawn back, and sudden light pouring into the room, Helena groans and peeks one eye open to find Renee setting a tray down on the night table with two steaming mugs.
"Had to make a fresh pot. Hope you like it strong," Renee says as she sits on the edge of the bed. Helena notes her change into a very comfortable-looking set of cotton pajamas, and draws the sheet up a little higher, feeling a little exposed.
"Sure, thanks," she says blearily, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she sits up a little and accepts one of the mugs. The aroma kicks at least part of her brain into gear. "Um..." is all she can think to say when the gravity of the night before comes back to her in its entirety.
Renee gives a quirky smile, "Yeah, exactly," and she reaches out to brush a lock of dark hair back from Helena's face. "This is probably the most awkward morning after I've ever had."
Huntress looks up into Renee's dark eyes, seeing them for the first time in full daylight. Gone is the featureless mask of the Question, and in its place is a gorgeous woman. Helena can't believe she let herself think of Renee as as Charlie, version 2.0. This woman is nothing of he sort. "No kidding... Listen, I'm sorry for... I dunno, I'm just sorry."
"Don't be," the other woman shakes her head. "I'm not. And I'm sure Charlie's looking down at us with that enigmatic smirk of his. Probably contemplating a new theory about hero relations and female sexuality, and how it all fits into his ideas about the misogynistic bent of the American male."
At that, they both laugh, breaking the slight tension, and Helena cants her head to the side. "You have a pretty sick sense of humor, you know that?"
"Learned from the best. I was a real bitch before I met Charlie."
"Heh. You and me, both. Another factor for him to work into his theories, I suppose."
"Yeah." Giving another smile, Renee stands. "Well. I need to go get a shower, then I was thinking we could grab some breakfast, if you don't have any plans. Unless, of course, you think I'm being entirely too presumptive."
Helena almost giggles at the hint of apprehension in Renee's voice, but schools it into a sly smirk. "No plans. Just need to check in with O, and grab some civvies. There's this great diner that we could hit up, that Charlie used to love--"
"Gunga Diner, right," Renee nods, the tension leaving her posture. Turning to head for the bathroom, she's stopped by Helena's hand on her arm.
"Hey, is there room in there for two?" Now Helena's sure that she's the one being presumptive, but she can't help a hopeful look.
A grin spreads across the real face of the new Question. "Thought you'd never ask."
* * * * *
In his place among the stars, Charlie shakes his head, gives a featureless smile, and adds a post-it to a tangle of string, notes, and push pins. "It's about damned time."
* * * * *