Connect the Dots
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Question is probably one of the best characters in JLU. R/R if you agree.
Life is full of many mysteries. As someone who seeks the truth, I pride myself on solving those mysteries. To do this, I find connections. It's like the world is a giant puzzle, a grand constellation of dots that are all connected to one another but in ways so subtle that I'm almost the only one who can see all the lines that tie everything together. But some mysteries are harder to solve than others. I have found connections from one thing to another but still there is one puzzle left to solve. What's the connection? That is the eternal question. What is the thread that tethers me, the Question, to the undeniably and exquisitely beautiful Helena Bertinelli?
Most times, I begin answering this question by examining the facts. I find it always the best idea to start with what I know. Fact: I am not the most attractive man alive. While I am hardly the ugliest man of all time as Huntress once remarked, I am hardly a model of beauty. Therefore, it is not my good looks that have allowed me to win her heart.
Fact: I am quite eccentric. This would perhaps pose a problem if I was in a normal relationship. But superhero relationships are by nature eccentric. I'm quite certain the Batman can attest to the oddness of dating within our workplace. So my eccentricity shouldn't theoretically be a turn-off in this case. But is it, in fact, a turn-on for her? Hmm, a question worth careful consideration. Nevertheless, I am not known for my personality, at least not in any positive manner. So it can't be my personality that has drawn her to me.
So what is it that connects us? What is the thread that draws us closer and closer together? I have the questions. Where are the answers? Logically speaking, one can always account for flukes in statistics. Averages are determined from data and while they represent the norm of that data, they do not represent the entirety of that data. So perhaps we are some sort of statistical anomaly. Perhaps, and yet I can't stop thinking that there is more to the question.
I have to look at the facts. Yet I know so many facts about her, perhaps too many to give me an objective perspective when it comes to this particular mystery. Even now as I lie beside her in bed, I can count the tiles in the ceiling and name a fact about her for each one. She sings in the shower when she thinks no one is around. She grades papers with a purple pen. She has an affinity for jazz music. She prefers lace underwear, particularly black. She's ticklish in her sides. She suffers from slight claustrophobia because of a childhood trauma. Her eyes are so deep that sometimes I almost lose myself in them. Her skin is so soft and smooth that it almost feels like porcelain. She is . . . she is the question that has no answer. What's the connection, Vic? What's the connection that keeps her by my side?
I suddenly feel her hands rest against my bare chest. I realize that I have been trembling. I try to slow my breathing but the questions still spin inside my mind.
"Look at me, Q," whispers Helena as she stares into my eyes. God, they're so deep. How are they so deep? I'll . . . I'll have to think about that some time.
"What's . . . what's the connection, Helena?" I breathe. She searches my eyes and realizes what I'm talking about.
"It's love, Vic," whispers Helena with a smile, "You don't have to analyze it or question it." She kisses me softly and I feel myself relax at last. My breathing dies down and my muscles finally stop contracting. Everything settles into focus. I see the lines, the patterns, the connections.
"Sssh, Q," whispers Helena as she silences me with a kiss, "Just relax. You don't have to connect the dots when it comes to us." Helena Bertinelli is the question that has no answer. The connection I feel with her cannot be explained even by one so well-trained as I. Even now, I still attempt to go over the facts as my mind teeters on the edge of consciousness. Helena moves closer to me, resting her head against my chest. I can smell that strawberry-scented shampoo she uses, another fact about her to add to my list. She's so soft yet so hard at the same time. Look at the facts, Vic. Fact: I am in love with Helena Bertinelli. I let this critical, case-breaking piece of information sink in and everything moves into clarity. Fact: I am in love with Helena Bertinelli and there are some questions in the world that just can't be answered.