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Helena doesn't sleep in.
She wants to, really. Gotham's a city of late, late nights, chasing some villain until dawn breaks and trekking back to their base thinking they're going to be doing the same thing tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, because this city never, ever calms down. Sleeping in would be the most efficient choice, objectively. Shifting to a later sleep schedule in general would be wise, really. But her training had always been early, and she finds it way too hard to break a habit.
All this to say, she falls into bed and is awake less than two hours later, the sun still low in the sky, staring up at the ceiling. She's a little comforted by Dinah next to her, still fast asleep, breathing slow and steady. If Helena were a different person, she could just curl into that warmth and fall back to sleep, dream of happy things instead of blood and revenge and a catharsis that's always just shy of what she needs from it. But she isn't, and the idea of sitting still for so long without her crossbow in her hands is enough to make her skin itch, so she stands up and heads to the communal area of their little compound.
The place is far from homey, according to Renee, but Helena loves it. Utilitarian in all the best ways but with enough signs of life thrown in that Helena's got this strange fondness for the place. Photos of their team, and a couple of Cass and Harley, too, one of Helena's family, one of Dinah's mom, a couple people that she doesn't recognize but Renee hung up and refuses to talk about. Dinah and Helena don't push, obviously. The furniture's comfier than Helena's used to, took a way bigger chunk of her family's fortune than she ever thought it would, and she's starting to like it more than she thought it was even possible to like furniture.
"Bet you're thankful I pushed you towards these now," Dinah'd said one night when their relationship was still new and terrifying, so tired she was almost acting tipsy, still staying up for Helena to finish what she was doing so they could go to bed together, leaving it vague if she meant to sleep or to tear each other's clothes off.
"No," Helena'd responded, unsure if it was annoyance or exhilaration making her heart beat so fast she could feel her pulse in her ears. Even looking back, she's still not sure.
If Helena was another person, a more normal person, a "better" person, she'd sit on that way-too-comfortable couch and watch TV, read a book, something like that. This is their day off, technically, Harley having told them to get off the streets and then winking. Renee's still going to go out, though, not trusting Harley's particular brand of vigilantism, which means that Dinah and Helena are going to follow her to be sure she doesn't get herself killed. Which means it's not really a day off, and even if Helena does have the time to relax, it feels wrong to try given she's working later. She should be preparing.
She stretches, like she does every morning, so she's limber if she needs to dart into action. She checks and double-checks and triple-checks her crossbow and her bolts to be sure they're all in perfect working order. She studies their most updated map of Gotham, replete with records of current gang territory and the locals that'll let them hide in the backroom if they're being chased and the sundry places with good food that are open so late it loops back around to being early. She notices, not for the first time, a small heart drawn next to the hole-in-the-wall that had been where she kissed Dinah for the first time. And where Dinah had kissed her for the first time, too, immediately after Helena had kissed her, and then it had all looped around into something they'd both started until they had to flee or be arrested for public indecency. It makes Helena's heart thud in her chest.
"Babe," Dinah calls from behind her. "What."
"Go back to bed," Helena says, looking back just to see her girlfriend sleep-mussed and sweet. That sight takes her breath away like it always does, a weakness she'll cherish and protect with everything she's got.
Dinah grumbles, instead walking forward to lean against Helena, wrapping her in a hug. Helena remembers hating when people try to touch her, but Dinah's different. (Dinah's always been different, even from the very start when Helena should have hated her for working with a man like Sionis and instead all she'd felt when watching her try not to cry in the club was a kind of horrified pity, her usual anger entirely absent.) She lets herself melt into the embrace, just a little bit, enough that she could still snap into action if someone were to barge in and break this peace. It doesn't matter that the moment feels safe and unbreakable. She's felt that kind of peace before, and she knows it can't be trusted.
"I can't rest if I know you're going to be sitting up worrying," Dinah mutters into Helena's neck. The combination of the sentiment and her breath against Helena's skin makes her shiver, not with simple lust but with something a little bit gentler and a lot more dangerous. "Anything I can do?"
Helena stops, thinks. Is there? Is there any way she can rest, really rest, without being so exhausted she literally can't keep her eyes open, the type of rest that's almost as draining as their fights are? Has she ever rested, really? She's taken breaks from physical activity to let her body heal, but she spent that time learning languages, learning about her weapons, learning all the skills she needs to infiltrate, to find her targets, to hunt. The only time she remembers relaxing is with Dinah after they'd run themselves ragged, or before her life was destroyed and she had to mold herself into a weapon of vengeance.
"Okay," Dinah says, stepping back and taking Helena's hand. "Let's go cuddle in bed and you can tell me about, I don't know, archery. Is it still archery when it's a crossbow?"
"Yes," Helena says, and then, because she can't help herself. "But most crossbows aren't allowed in formal archery competitions, especially anything that's more focused on compound archery. I'm not in it for competition, obviously, but it's still ridiculous. I'm merely using the more efficient weapon, unlike that idiot in Star City."
Dinah snorts, her eyes warm and affectionate, and leads Helena to their room. Helena isn't sure if it's relaxing, exactly, but she feels more at ease with herself, even as Dinah falls back asleep, her legs tangled with Helena's, her head in the crook of her neck. It doesn't feel as difficult to stay this time.
She rests.