Oct. 9th, 2009

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Helena made her way down the corridor towards her room. So. There's another Batgirl floating around the bar. Helena'll have to keep an eye on her. Find out who she is maybe, and what her motives are. But she'll play nice for now, if only because the Canary asked her to.

She unlocks the door and looks around the room, checking for bugs or spies or something else unexpected. Only once she's satisfied that the room is clean does lock the door behind her and take of her mask before flopping down on the bed. It's soft and comfortable and the room is warn - a far cry from her damp, dusty and cold room that awaits her back in Gotham - and it's not long before Helena falls asleep, fully clothed.

For the first time in weeks Helena sleeps well, and doesn't dream.

---

15 hours later, Helena wakes with a start. It takes her a moment or two to get her bearings and remember where she is. MIlliways. Bar at the End of the Universe. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and runs her fingers through her hair to detangle it. It's greasy - she hasn't had a proper wash in about a month - there's no running water in No Man's Land.

There's a second door leading from the bedroom into a bathroom - strange, she thinks. She's almost certain it wasn't there last night. She must have been so tired she didn't look properly, she concludes.

Helena slips out of her filthy costume. She'll have to find some way to get it cleaned properly, she decides as she drops it onto the floor and steps into the shower. She turns the water on to full and turns the heat up so it almost scalds her. It feels like heaven after having to wash from a bowl of cold water for the last month, and she stands under the spray for more than an hour, soaping herself and letting the water wash away the dirt and grime of Gotham.

She keeps expecting the water to run cold but it never does and eventually, once her skin has puckered and turned red, she turns off the spray and gropes outside for one of the large fluffy white towels hanging up outside. Another towel is used to dry her long dark hair. She putters around in the towels for a while not eager to put the smelly costume back on just yet. Only when her stomach starts complaining does she go back into the bathroom to pick up her costume.

Except, it isn't there. She goes back into the bedroom but it's not there either.

"What the hell?" she asks herself and starts looking around the room: under the bed, under the cusions on the chair in the corner, in the closet-

Hanging up in the closet is a black and purple outfit, one that she's very familiar with. A note is pinned to the front:

Batgirl costume taken for dry cleaning

- The Loompas

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Helena Bertinelli

December 2012

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