An Evening Rendezvous

AN: This story is always one chapter ahead on my Patreon.

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Seven Fifty-Five in the PM.

Dinah Lance couldn't stop the tremble in her lips. Nor could she stop the quivering in her belly, the shiver that ghosted through her spine, or the wave of goosebumps that covered her skin like an invisible shroud.

The autumn air was unusually warm but Dinah felt a chill all the same. She hugged her loose hoodie close to her body and kept walking. Her boots clumped against the brick path. She took slow, deliberate steps, moving sluggishly down the walkway. But even then, every step brought her closer and closer to the park. Closer to him.

Sure enough, she came upon a sign a couple moments later. Standing at the junction of a forking path, right next to an old Gotham-style lamp post. Dinah averted her eyes from it at first, dreading the words painted upon it.

She had the idea that perhaps she could have just kept walking. If she didn't bother looking for directions and got lost in the expanse of the Kingston campus, then maybe she had a way out. No one would blame her for getting lost, right?

But that just wasn't an option. Not for the Black Canary. Not for Dinah Lance. And not for Dinah Blake, either.

The blonde gulped and glanced up at the pointed sign. The stylized white lettering read Benes Park. The words were taunting her. She imagined them coming alive and laughing at her like in the cartoons.

And they would be justified, Dinah thought. Stupid. So fucking stupid to end up in this situation.

With her heart thundering and her belly doing flips, the undercover superheroine finally came upon the arched gateway into Benes Park. She took a moment then to gather her wits and steel her nerves. Then she crossed the threshold, stepping under the black metal arch, passing by the tall walls of shrubbery, and towards her dark destiny.

No going back now…

Dinah turned a corner into a small clearing and saw him. Matt Reston was waiting for her, seated on a lone wooden bench beside a tall, looming oak. But he wasn't alone.

Helena was with him. And she was the one who noticed Dinah first. Her face broke out into a wide, bright smile and she beckoned Dinah over. The blonde obeyed despite the shock of her friend's presence.

This wasn't part of the plan. Why is she here?

Dinah approached slowly and cautiously, but Helena didn't seem to have the patience for that. Her friend rose from the bench and closed the distance between them, drawing Dinah into a tight hug. The blonde saw that her friend wore a long-skirted, long-sleeved dress. It was colored black with a purple floral pattern winding about her torso, presenting a spirited, feminine aura. A far cry from the Helena Bertinelli that the Birds of Prey knew.

"I know you would make the right choice." Helena chirped happily as she held Dinah close. Dinah could barely find the will to return her friend's hug, lazily bringing her arms up. "But would it have killed you to wear something nice?"

Dinah ignored the barb. She pulled away from the hug and looked Helena square in the eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was pointed, direct, firm.

Helena blinked and made a face. "Happy to see you too, Dinah."

Snorting, the raven-haired beauty stepped back and returned to Reston's side, standing beside the bench where still he sat patiently.

"I just thought this was going to be between me and Matthew." Dinah clenched her jaw, her gaze jumping between the two.

"Helena insisted on being here tonight." Reston finally spoke. Unlike Dinah, his voice was calm, cool, and smooth as butter. He sounded like a man who was in control and knew it. The grin he wore was the cherry on top. One that was rotten black and bitter. "She wants to be your moral support. And it won't hurt to have an extra witness vouching for you at tomorrow's ceremony."

Dinah nodded and breathed. It was all she could do to keep from glaring at the bastard - among other, more violent urges. She glanced over at Helena expectantly, hoping beyond reason for an alternative answer. But her friend only gave a warm, giddy smile and curtsied. Dinah's heart leapt into her throat.

What has he done to you, Hel?

She turned her eyes back onto Reston, simmering rage locked away deep inside. She wanted to hurt him. Punch him, kick him, break every bone in his body. She was so close, all she had to do was reach out and get her hands on him.

No. Bad idea.

Dinah had to keep a lid on it. She had to play along for just a little bit longer.

"What, your word isn't good enough? I had you pegged as some Brotherhood bigshot." Dinah approached the bench with small, tentative steps. Hands on her hips, she stared down Reston.

The teen merely shrugged.

"Who says I'm not?"

"I was told that real men bend the world to their whims, not the other way around." Dinah gave Helena a pointed look but she didn't seem to take the barb. Instead, Helena only rolled her eyes playfully. As if Dinah was only making a silly inside joke and not sticking it to her 'boyfriend'. "It just seems strange to me that a guy like you would be such a stickler for the rules."

With Reston, however, the reaction was different. He didn't respond immediately, taking a moment to regard her words. He pursed his lips, as if in thought. Then he leaned forward, bringing his elbows down to rest upon his knees.

"Brotherhood men make their own rules, it's true." He said, smirking. His eyes glimmered in the lamplight, locked on Dinah and full of intent. Even dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, Dinah felt like a slab of fresh meat under his gaze. She hugged her arms to her belly as he continued. "But it's good to maintain some traditions. Us older guys have to set a good example for the underclassmen. I think you look nice, by the way."

"Don't you think she should have worn a dress?" Helena added. Dinah saw that her friend's lips were twisted into a mock pout as she played with the hem of own dress. "Or at least a skirt?"

Dinah knew that the woman speaking wasn't Helena. Not truly. It was a twisted version of her friend, molded to be Reston's giggling plaything. But still, hearing such regressive, backwards talk in Helena's voice was enough to send a shock through her mind. It was like a slap in the face, seeing and hearing such a fierce woman act like some high school princess. And with her focus now so fixed on Helena, Reston's next words blindsided her.

"I'd say she wears those pants pretty good. She's definitely got the legs for it." Reston spoke with a drawl as he deliberately let his gaze roll up and down the blonde's body. He made sure to pay special attention to her legs, as he said.

Another wave of shivers rolled through Dinah's body. Her outfit was the exact opposite of the garb she wore that day in the locker room. Sweatpants and a hoodie, both the loosest and baggiest that Dinah had in her wardrobe. And yet Reston could still look upon her and lick his chops. That's when Dinah realized that there was simply no dissuading the young man.

It didn't matter what she did, how bitchy she was, or how unflattering her outfits were. Matthew Reston had his sights set on Dinah Blake. She was the meat, wet, juicy, and dripping. And he was itching to take a bite.

Dinah's heart thundered. She felt naked, exposed. And that gave a needed jolt of anger… And something else entirely. Something that Dinah immediately forced back down. No, that sensation had no right to exist in her body then. Not at that moment. Not with him.

"Are we going to stand around making chit-chat or are we going to get this over with?" Dinah huffed through her nose, feeling her cheeks grow warm. Another surge of anger followed. She wasn't blushing. That was absurd. She was just angry. Red in the face because of the smug jackass in front of her.

"That depends, Miss B." Reston leaned back on the bench, draping his arms across the backrest. "What exactly are you here for?"

Dinah threw her hands up and made a sound that was a mix between frustration, anger, and disgust.

"Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?" Dinah was close to shrieking, edging closer and closer to outright using her Canary Cry. She leveled a heated glare at Helena next, pointing at the woman accusingly. "You said he was done playing games with me!"

Helena's smile faltered for a moment and her lips twitched then, as if she was about to speak up to defend herself. But Reston raised one hand, silencing her. Helena Bertinelli bowed her head and sat down beside her boyfriend without another word. Dinah could only look on incredulously, aghast at the obedient, pretty thing the Huntress had become.

"You came here for a reason." Reston answered in Helena's stead as the raven-haired beauty scooted closer to him, pressing her body into his side. His arm draped over her then. If it had been done by any other man, it would have been sweet, romantic. But with Reston, Dinah only saw possessiveness and a dark, territorial edge. He gave Dinah a friendly, terrifying smile. "We all know what that reason is. But I want to hear you say it. Nothing happens until you do."

Dinah's face twisted into a grimace. Her cheeks burned hot. If she was a cartoon, there would certainly be steam shooting from her ears.

"But I'm here! Shouldn't that be enough?" She made wild gestures with her hands, waving towards the pair sitting across from her with no real purpose other than to show them her anger, her frustration, her desperation. This whole situation was an absurd nightmare, a twisted comedy with Dinah at the center. Ridiculous and terrifying in equal measure.

Then Dinah felt a dampness at the corners of her eyes, her vision becoming slightly blurry and fuzzy. No, she thought adamantly. No, no, no. I'm not going to cry. Not in front of this bastard. The Black Canary doesn't fucking cry.

Dinah blinked the budding tears away, desperately hoping that neither of her tormentors noticed them. Then Helena's maddeningly sweet voice cut deep into the blonde's ears.

"I know it's hard to be exposed, Dinah. To be laid bare. Stripped." Helena's words came smooth and sweet like honey. Dinah dared to glance over and was greeted with the sickening sight of her friend resting her head on Reston's firm shoulder. The woman who wore Helena's face gave a dazzling smile with dreamy eyes, and continued. "But true womanhood is found in embracing these moments of vulnerability. That's where our power is. Hell, you might even find it liberating."

Then Helena pressed her face into the crook of Reston's neck and began peppering him with small, soft kisses. Dinah frowned, her belly no longer being sent into flips. Instead, there was something else. Something that boiled and frothed inside her. Anger, most likely. Dinah couldn't imagine how it could be anything else.

"You're a strong woman, Miss Blake. I wouldn't have given you a second look otherwise." Reston picked up where his girlfriend left off, his voice calm and measured even as his woman intensified her attack on his neck. Dinah even saw him slide his arm around Helena's waist, drawing the woman closer. "But real strength comes from being honest with yourself. So… Why are you here?"

So this was it. Dinah's mind slowed to a crawl as realization finally set in. No flurry of thoughts, no storm of emotions. Just the bitter calm of acceptance. She was going to do this.

Dinah Lance was going to play Reston's game.

The Black Canary, getting on her knees to be shackled by the Brotherhood's rules. Lord, forgive me

There was… A tremble, then. A wave coursing through her entire body. Dinah didn't like it.

"I… I've come to accept your invitation." Dinah had to force the words out, lest they find rest on her tongue. She didn't want their sour flavor to settle in her mouth.

"Hmm." Helena pulled herself from Reston's neck. She tapped a finger against her pursed lips. "That's a little vague, hon."

Dinah shot a glare at the dark-haired woman, but the lady wearing Helena's face only smiled back, giggling. Her eye's found Reston's, hoping beyond reason to find some common sense. But the younger man shrugged his shoulders. He gestured lazily with one hand, silently ordering her to try again.

Dinah had no choice. She had to obey.

Another tremble rolled through her body. Dinah breathed deeply through her nose, shaking her head.

"I want…" The blonde winced as the words seemed to swell up in her mouth. Just say it, she chided herself. Just fucking say it and get it over with. "I want to step into the Brotherhood's shadow."

Reston had a stony expression. No smile, no twitch along his brow, nothing. He was like a statue but for the occasional blink. He simply stared at her, judging her in silence.

"I'm listening." He said after a long, quiet moment.

"I want to be under your protection, Matthew Reston." Dinah shuddered, lips quivering as she spoke those terrible words. She tried pretending that it wasn't her, but another woman brought down low by Matthew Reston. A different blonde with a different friend. A different screw-up who got herself caught, not the tough-as-nails Superheroine. "I… I want to be your woman. If you will have me."

A lightning strike right to her heart. That's what it felt like. Speaking those words… It was tantamount to heresy. Sacrilege. A desecration of what everything Black Canary stood for, what the Birds of Prey stood for.

It didn't matter if Barbara's plan worked, Dinah realized then while a sense of dread washed over her. Even if they sprung into action, beat the bad guys, and freed all the Brotherhood's mental prisoners tomorrow, there would still be this moment. The time when the Black Canary lost.

At that moment, Dinah Lance felt like a complete and total failure.

And Reston looked pleased.

"Good." He spoke with a toothy, wolfish smile. "Very good."