Work Text:
Helena’s never done Valentine’s Day before. She’d never had anyone to get…festive (is that even the right word? Do people get festive for Valentine’s Day?) for.
Now, though, there was Dinah. She was planning on asking her to be officially her girlfriend this year. Harley had even said that Dinah felt the same about her. Not that Harley was a reliable source.
And, more immediately, there was a terrifying wall of red, heart-shaped boxes. Helena could fight off ten armed men at once, but this was too much. She’d practiced killing her whole life. This was her first time buying a Valentine’s Day gift. She didn’t know what she was doing at all with that.
She’d thoroughly read the Wikipedia page for Valentine’s Day, and chocolate seemed like a safe bet. She hadn’t expected it to be so…confusing. She definitely knew she didn’t want to get one of the ninety-nine cent things because Dinah deserved better than that. Beyond that, she had no idea. Dove? Hershey’s? Did the shade of red matter? Or the size? Was there some secret language where if she got the wrong kind of chocolate it would be mean or something?
Shit. She really didn’t now anything about this.
“Can I help you?” A chipper Target employee asked. She was short enough that Helena couldn’t help but look down on her, and her face was hidden by the combination of bangs, glasses, and a face mask.
“No—“ Helena said on instinct. “Yes! Actually, yes.”
“What are you looking for?”
“A good chocolate. To give somebody for Valentine’s Day.”
“Well, I like this kind.” She pointed to a row of boxes, the same shape, but with different designs on the front. “They’re all the same chocolates, so you can just pick a design you like.”
“Thanks.” Helena said. She never felt natural playing politeness games, but she did try.
She stared some more at the chocolate. It helped a lot to be narrowed down to one product…but which design would Dinah like? She would have just picked a plain one, but none of them were plain. She ruled out one that said something in French because she knew Dinah didn’t speak French, and one that was decorated with cartoon dogs kissing. That was just weird.
Eventually, she settled on one that said “Happy Galentine’s Day!” In pink letters. Galentine’s Day. That was cute and funny. Perfect for lesbians. Cause they were both gals.
As soon as Helena had picked out the box and left behind the Valentine’s display, she felt better. This was going to be good. She smiled, because she couldn’t help herself. Here she was, getting ready for Valentine’s Day, in a Target, heading towards the checkout line. There was a euphoria in normalcy.
—
The morning of Valentine’s Day got off to a great start. Helena had gone over to Dinah’s house to help make quiche or something, and they’d been having so much fun just goofing off in Dinah’s kitchen that Helena had almost forgotten about her gift.
“Oh! I got you something.” Helena said, walking back to where she had dumped her coat. She pulled the box out of the biggest pocket in her coat—which was a very big pocket. Dinah had said several times that she was jealous. “Here…happy Valentine’s Day.”
She placed the box into Dinah hands, who looked at it, her excitement fading to confusion, and then something like disappointment.
“What?” Helena said.
“Nothing.” Dinah said. “Thanks, Helena. I really appreciate it.”
“It says ‘Gal-entine’s Day.’ Cause we’re girls. You know.”
“Thanks—I…I get it.” Dinah said, just a little too sharply.
“I…did I do something wrong?” Helena was confused.
“No! No, you didn’t.” Dinah said, but she looked almost like she might cry.
“Ok.” Helena said, but she wanted to keep pressing.
“We should probably get back to that quiche, yeah?”
Helena nodded.
The rest of the quiche-making session was fine. Nothing bad happened, explicitly, but it was like there was an elephant in the room that only Dinah could see. Helena wanted to ask, but it didn’t seem like Dinah would explain. Maybe this was another one of those strange social things that Helena didn’t always get, or hadn’t been exposed to or something.
Helena kept playing their exchange over and over in her head. What had she done wrong?
She left Dinah’s apartment with a still warm quiche and the feeling that she’d really messed something up.
—
Helena wandered through snowy downtown Gotham, looking at all the paired up couples who were eating ice cream together (despite the fact that it was freezing cold out), or carrying balloons, or just walking hand in hand. She wanted so, so badly to be doing that with Dinah right now.
She just kept playing the encounter over and over in her head, freeze-framing the moment Dinah’s face fell.
Helena pulled her phone out of her coat pocket and opened up her text messages. Usually, she’d go to Dinah for something like this, but that obviously wasn’t an option this time.
She only had a few people in her phone, so it wasn’t like she had a ton of options.
Eventually, she settled on Harley.
Hey Harley. I think I messed stuff up with Dinah.
She typed out the message, stared at it for a moment, deleted it, typed it again, and finally hit send.
Harley responded almost instantly.
What’d you do, followed that up with a string of colorful emojis.
I don’t know. Helena texted back. That’s why I’m texting you.
Love is too complicated for text, was Harley’s next message. We gotta discuss this in person
OK. Where are you?
Look up, dummy.
Helena did. She’d kept walking while she was texting, relying on her peripheral vision to ensure she didn’t hit anybody.
Harley was seated at an outdoor table, bundled up in a pink and blue puffy snowsuit and waving frantically in Helena’s direction.
Helena hustled over, doing a sort of half-walk, half-jog, because it felt weird to just walk when Harley was waving so aggressively in her direction, but full on jogging at an outdoor mall would also have felt weird.
Helena took a seat in the other metal chair at Harley’s table. The metal was icy cold, but she tried not to wince.
“Hey, Harley.”
“Hiya!” Harley’s accent was just as strong as Helena remembered. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
Helena inhaled sharply. It was a strange, bitter feeling that maybe she’d fucked up all her chances with Dinah on Valentine’s Day, of all days.
“Yeah.” Helena said, because she couldn’t think of anything better to say. “It’s not. Happy. I’m not having a happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. The whole thing with Dinah. We’re gonna figure it out. You two broads are a match made in heaven.”
“I don’t know what–”
“Ah ah ah!” Harley cut Helena off. “Go inside and get a hot chocolate. No therapy unless you get a hot chocolate.” She pointed to the pink-painted door. This looked like the kind of place where a hot chocolate cost fifteen dollars.
“Sure…” She said, and then the pin dropped. “Oh. You want hot chocolate, don’t you?”
“Well,” Harley seemed a little sheepish. “I want hot chocolate. You need hot chocolate. Chocolate is good for the soul.”
Helena was right about the price of the hot chocolate. The menu was nearly as intimidating as the Target candy boxes. She just got a simple one for herself, and some crazy Valentine’s specialty drink for Harley.
“Tell me everything. Don’t leave out any of the teensy details. It’s all about the fuckin’ subtelty.” Harley was the least subtle person Helena knew.
“So, I was going to…I was gonna ask Dinah out. Today. So I bought her chocolate–”
“What kind of chocolate?”
“There was a girl, a Target employee–”
“Ok. From Target. That’s very classy.” Harley said, without a drop of sarcasm.
“Yeah, so, I was baking with Dinah this morning, and I gave her the chocolate, and she looked really disappointed. So I didn’t ask her out.”
“Like, awkward or, like, sad?”
“It was–um, both.”
“Well, it seems like a fucking mystery. But remember what I said earlier about teensy, tine-sy details? Tell me more?” Harley said, furrowing her brow in a cartoonish thinking expression. “Oh! You didn’t get her diet chocolate, right?”
“...no.” Helena said. Maybe it was diet chocolate? She didn’t think so. She’d stared at the box after she bought it for like ten minutes with an excitement that made her cringe, now.
“So that’s not it.”
“And I got a cute box, too. It was shaped like a heart, and it even had a good pun on it.”
“Pun? You mighta chased her off by just being too corny.”
“Dinah likes when I’m corny.”
“Well, what was the pun? You can’t be holding out on me. I need details if we wanna solve this.”
“It said ‘Happy Gal-entine’s Day’ or something like that.”
Harley’s eyes went wide. “Oh sheesh kabob. That is bad!”
“What?”
“Of course Dinah’s disappointed! You gave her a box of chocolate that said ‘Gal-entine’s Day.’ You totally friend zoned her!”
“Fuck.” Helena said. “I thought Gal-entine’s meant, like lesbians. Cause we’re both gals or whatever.”
“No! It means, like, hanging out with your girlfriends, like friends-who-are-girls, instead of your partner.”
“Shit. No wonder she’s not happy.” Helena said. She was kicking herself. Obviously she didn’t know, but it was embarrassing. “I can’t believe I did that.” She said, more to herself than to Harley.
“Yeah. That is kinda embarrassing.”
“Ok. What do I do?” Helena knew Harley wasn’t the best source for relationship advice, or fixing your mistakes, but right now, Helena didn’t feel in any shape to try and solve this herself.
“Commit a crime in her name.” Harley said, instantly. “Ah, nevermind. Probably not Canary’s thing. Go buy another box of chocolate. An explicitly romantic one.”
“Explicit? Not porn, right?” She felt herself going red just saying the word.
“You could.” Harley said.
“I’m not…yeah, I’m not doing that.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Ok. What else?” Helena said. She wanted to fix this as soon as possible.
“I’ve got the perfect idea for another gift. And you figure out how you’re going to explain this to Canary.” Harley said. “You know, most plot conflict in fiction could be solved if the characters just explained their mistakes to one another.”
“Do I need another gift? On top of the new chocolate?” Helena said. She wasn’t exactly keen on whatever Harley thought an appropriate gift would be.
“Yes, because I’m meeting you with it outside Target in half an hour.”
“Ok!”
—
Helena speed-walked back to where she’d parked her motorbike, and hopped on. She stopped just long enough to put on her helmet, and zipped off to Target.
She was definitely pushing the speed limit.
There was nothing like a motorcycle ride when it was cold and snowy. Most people hated it, but she loved the clarity it gave her. She was just her direction, and the cold, crisp air that pushed against her body.
Gal-entine’s day. That was embarrassing. She could feel herself flushing with embarrassment just thinking about it.
Dinah was her friend, but she was her love, too. Dinah made Helena feel like she was good for something other than killing, other than revenge. Dinah gave Helena a purpose, a reason to be good.
Helena was not going to ruin that over a misunderstanding.
She pulled into the first space at the Target parking lot and took a few breaths to steady herself. She was going to do this right. It was already early afternoon, so she didn’t have very long to get this done.
She imagined the sweet relief of explaining everything to Dinah, and the way Dinah would laugh, and how maybe, just maybe, she’d have a chance to shoot her shot.
—
The chocolate display wasn’t as scary anymore.
She’d already made a terrible mistake. Somehow, having the worst thing happen took away her fear. She could and would fix this.
She went for a different brand of chocolate this time, a more sophisticated kind, with almonds. She knew Dinah liked almonds.
This box was slim and rectangular, and its gold packaging stood out amongst the sea of pinks and reds. Dinah liked gold. It didn’t have any sort of message, though, which meant Helena would have the chance to say exactly what she meant. She could choose her words, rather than letting them get mixed up on a box of chocolate.
She had to wait in line for a bit at the checkout line.
“Did you find everything alright?” The cashier asked.
“Yeah, I did.” Helena said.
Harley was there in the parking lot as promised, carrying a small, messily-wrapped box containing who-knew-what. Knowing Harley, it was something illegal.
“Oi!” Harley shouted, even though she knew Helena could see her.
Helena gave her a quick thumbs up. She never knew quite how to respond to Harley.
Please be something Dinah will like. Helena thought to herself as Harley handed her the box.
“Thanks.”
“Godspeed, Huntress.” Harley said, mock-serious.
“Thank you.” Helena said, getting on her bike. She cracked up as soon as her helmet was on to hide her face. Godspeed, Huntress in Harley Quinn’s accent was fucking hilarious.
Helena actually obeyed the speed limits on her way back to Dinah’s apartment. The traffic was pretty bad over in Dinah’s part of town, so it wasn’t like speeding would have helped her much, anyway.
By the time she finally found Dinah’s building, it was nearly four. Then, she had to ride around the block twice before she found empty parking.
Oh, shit. What if Dinah’s not at her apartment? Helena thought with a flash of fear. She could imagine herself sitting outside Dinah’s place, waiting for hours and hours and hours.
She would.
She would wait for hours and hours and hours for Dinah.
She would wait for days, or walk for miles, or swim across the Atlantic to find Dinah and tell her what happened, and maybe, just maybe, have a shot at dating her.
Driving around the block for parking suddenly didn’t seem so bad. Hiking up the four flights of stairs, and counting the numbers until she found Dinah’s apartment—that was easy.
By the time Helena was in front of Dinah’s door, she was sweating. She hadn’t bothered to take off her coat, even though Dinah’s building was always just a bit too warm. She was nervous, though, too. Maybe Dinah wouldn’t—
Snap out of it, Helena. Don’t think like that.
She knocked twice, and waited.
The door cracked open, just enough that Helena could see a sliver of Dinah’s face and a sliver of Dinah’s apartment.
“Oh, it’s you.” Dinah said. She shut the door, released the chain, and opened it the rest of the way. “Come on in.” Her eyes looked just a little red, like maybe she’d been crying earlier. Helena wanted to kick herself for what she’d done. “Did you leave something here?”
“No, I—” Helena knew what she needed to say, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words. “I fucked—I messed up with the chocolate. I thought ‘Gal-entine’s’ meant, like for lesbians. Not for, not for non-girlfriend friends. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to mess stuff up.”
Once Helena was talking, the words fell out like a flood, and she watched as Dinah’s expression shifted to confusion and then to amusement, that little mouth thing she did before she laughed.
And Dinah did laugh. That made Helena’s heart flutter.
“What?” Dinah said. “You thought that Gal-entine’s meant lesbians?”
Helena nodded.
“Wait—how did you figure it out?”
“Harley.” Helena said.
“You went to Harley for advice?”
“Look, I don’t know that many people—” Helena said, a little indignant.
“It’s alright.” Dinah said. “I’m just glad you figured it out so fast.”
“Yeah.” Helena nodded. This was her shot. Everything was OK. She could still make Dinah her girlfriend-girlfriend, if she could just stop the breath from catching in her throat, every time their eyes met.
“Hel, would you like to be my girlfriend? Officially, my girlfriend.”
“Hey!” Helena said, without quite meaning to. “Shit. Sorry. I was just about to ask you! Yes, yes, yes, I want to more than anything.” She got a sudden flash of self-doubt. “You’d still have me, after what I did today?”
“Of course, Hel. You didn’t know. And it was good chocolate, so that makes up for it.”
That was it. That was the last confirmation Helena needed before the euphoria could set in. She was Dinah Lance’s girlfriend, for real. She wanted to smile as big as her mouth would allow, and shout it from the rooftops, that she, Helena Bertinelli, was dating Dinah Lance.
“Oh, here.” Helena had forgotten entirely about the chocolate she’d bought. She was scared that if she tried to say more, the words would get tangled up in her throat, wrapped around her heart like ribbons.
“Thank you.” Dinah said, and reached up for a kiss.
It wasn’t the perfect first kiss. They bonked noses, and had to pull back and try again. It worked the second time. It didn’t matter how good the kiss was; it mattered who it was with. Dinah always smelled good, like self-care products with scents Helena couldn’t name.
Even after they pulled apart, Helena stood there for a moment, lovedrunk and giddy.
“Lemme guess, Harley gave you that?” Dinah said, pulling Helena out of her head. She realized she was still holding the little wrapped box from Harley.
“Yeah.”
“And she said to give it to me, didn’t she?”
Helena nodded. “I hope it’s not a grenade or something.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.” Dinah said. “Can I open it anyway?”
“Just be careful. I can’t let anything happen to you know. We’re dating, so I’m supposed to take good care of you.”
“Protective already, Hel?” Dinah said. “Maybe it’ll just be glitter or something.”
“That would be worse than a grenade.” Helena could already imagine what it would be like if glitter invaded Dinah’s apartment. She’d still be finding it when they were both old.
Dinah opened the messy wrapping carefully and looked inside. She reached into the jumble of paper and picked up a surprisingly elegant gold heart pendant. It was small, and it looked old, like the kind of thing Dinah would find at a vintage store.
“Oh.” Helena said. It was pretty, and really a good gift. Harley was a loose cannon, but she’d nailed it this time.
“Thank you.”
“Thank Harley. She found it.”
“I’ll go get a chain to put it on.” Dinah got up and went into her bedroom. Helena took a moment to survey Dinah’s living space—twisty vintage couch, gold-framed mirrors, plants on the windowsill, a tidy kitchen.
Dinah came back after a couple of minutes, with the pendant on a thin gold chain. She clipped it around her neck, without even having to look. Helena was impressed. She didn’t wear much jewelry, but when she did, she always had to pull the clasp part around to the front to see what she was doing.
“It’s beautiful.” Helena said, but she was looking at Dinah more than the pendant.
Both of their phones vibrated in unison, Helena’s in her pocket, Dinah’s on the table.
Helena pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen.
“Oh, fuck.”
“What is it?”
“‘Breaking News: The Famed Heart of Thousands Pendant has Been Stolen from Gotham City Museum.’”
Dinah glanced down at the twisty golden heart that was sitting at her collarbone. “No…”
“Yeah.”
“What’s the rest of the article say?” Dinah came around so she could look on at Helena’s phone screen.
“‘The Heart of Thousands dates back nearly three centuries and is valued at around 6 million dollars. Anyone with knowledge of the Heart’s location should call…’ and then there’s a phone number.” Helena read.
“Look,” Dinah pointed at a spot on the screen, and Helena lowered her phone so Dinah could read it better. “‘Harley Quinn is believed to be the top suspect.’”
“Should we—we need to give it back.” Helena said.
“We can do that tomorrow.” Dinah said, standing up on her tiptoes so she could drape her arms over Helena’s shoulders. “It’s already late, and I think I’m going to be busy tonight.”
She probably means sex! Helena thought with excitement. She’d never been excited about the idea of sex before.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dinah.” She said, and then tumbled into Dinah’s kiss.