Title: Fashionably Late Setting: The Evening of July 13th - The Gotham Museum of Modern Art Characters: Helena, Bruce, and whoever else might be at the party (or drop in) Rating: PG13
"Dammit!"
Pulling up in front of the Gotham Museum of Modern Art, Helena barely stopped the car before jumping out -- tossing her keys to the nearest valet as she dashed up the steps, her shoes in her right hand.
She was late. Much later than she had expected to be; the text message that she had sent her father, hoping to head off questions, was now nearly two hours old. It wasn't like Helena hadn't been late to her father's parties before; in fact, for the past six months it seemed like she had been late to everything (or had left early). But this party was a little different as it was being thrown for her -- in honor of her 18th birthday. People were going to notice.
Unfortunately, the reason she was late was beyond all explanation. Her excuse was that she couldn't decide what to wear. The truth, however, was that Helena had spent the earlier part of the evening on the rooftops by the dock, waiting for Harley's thugs to show.
The rumor on the street was that a shipment of diamonds was expected in that night and Helena was almost certain that Harley would go after them. Not only were they shiny and pretty, but they were worth a small fortune -- something that might come in handy for someone trying to build an army. And so she waited. The ship came in, just as expected, but there were no thugs. No signs of anyone but the ship's crew and the dock workers. Could she have been wrong?
She had been just about to give up when she noticed that one of the 'dock workers' had shot the ship's captain. Disguises! They were getting smarter.
She managed to stop them from making off with the diamonds, but they still managed to escape capture giving Helena a bruised rib in the process. It was going to hurt something awful in the morning. Hell, it hurt now.
But there was nothing she could do about it except be gentle. Hurrying back to where she had stowed her car, she changed clothes -- throwing on her dress and stowing her Huntress outfit in the secret compartment of her trunk. Then it was off to the Museum. ***
Stepping inside, Helena barely had time to put on her shoes when she was bombarded by people wondering where she had been and wanting to wish her a Happy Birthday. The two most noticeable were Amber and Ashley, the twin daughters of one of her father's colleagues and classmates of Helena's since kindergarten.
"Helena!"
"All right...who is he?"
"You can tell us..."
"Excuse me?" Helena had no idea what they were talking about.
"The boy."
"Is he here? Arriving the requisite five minutes after you?"
"Or does Daddy not know about him?"
"It's obvious. The being late or leaving early. The looking like you've been up all night. The never returning our phone calls."
"You're in love!"
"So come on...."
"Who is he? Do we know him?"
"I..." Helena searched the crowd for her father. Not only would he want to know that she had finally made it (his text message back making it seem like he was a bit displeased at her tardiness), but he would also a way out of this conversation. Spotting him, she breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll be right back. My Dad...I should go say hello." Giving them a small, practiced smile identical to her father's in those early years, she extracted herself from the twins and made her way over to see him.