All Bruce had wanted this Christmas was some peace and quiet.
"The Grinch hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season," a teasing, melodic yet husky voice spoke from the doorway to the Monitor Womb. "Please don't ask why; no one quite knows the reason."
"Princess," Bruce said with all the patience he could summon. "Go home."
She chuckled softly, and her heels clicked on the floor as she approached. He sighed inwardly and began stockpiling things he could possibly say to get rid of her as soon as possible. He'd dug up a pretty good one when a mug of something warm appeared just past his left cheek. He opened his mouth to refuse it, but then realized it wasn't hot chocolate like he'd thought; it was apple cider. His stomach rumbled as the delicious scent wafted into his nose.
Grumbling under his breath, he accepted the mug. He drew back his cowl, and his damp hair flopped forward onto his forehead. The mask tended to bump annoyingly against the rim of anything he tried to drink, and Diana had worked out his identity in the months before anyway. He didn't miss the small pleased smile on her lips after he'd done it. He took a sip. Perfect. Not too bitter, not too sweet, just hot enough without scalding his tongue. Damn her.
"How does it look down there?" she asked, hopping up onto the part of the console with no buttons. The Watchtower got drafty on occasion, so she had clothing on over her uniform and bracelets; an off-shoulder red sweater, jeans, and her regular boots beneath them.
"Quiet," he answered. "For now."
"For now?" she asked, lifting one dark, thin eyebrow.
"Christmas is notorious for criminal activity," he explained after another sip. "Often, those who are without are driven to desperate measures. Then there are those who just want to take advantage."
"I see. It's a shame. One of the things I liked about Man's World was the idea that there was a day where everyone tried their best to be kind and share what they have with the less fortunate." Her periwinkle eyes twinkled teasingly as they settled on him. "Well, almost everyone."
He grunted. She chuckled again. "Where are Alfred and the boys?"
"Switzerland," he answered.
"Nice. I'll bet Tim was excited."
He just barely hid a smile with another sip. "He nearly broke my ribs, he hugged me so hard."
Diana sat back a little, her smile growing. "Perhaps I misspoke before. Perhaps the Grinch's heart already grew three sizes."
He gave her a flat look. "When did you find the time to watch Dr. Seuss?"
"Clark had it on in the break room the other day. Flash was most insistent that I watch it. He said it would help me understand you better."
Bruce rolled his eyes. "Of course he did."
He sighed. "Really, Diana, there isn't much to be done all the way up here. Go home."
"Everyone has plans. J'onn and Clark returned to Kansas. Flash is in Central City. Shayera and John are away for the holiday."
"You could always go back to Themyscira."
"They don't celebrate it there. It's not the same." She turned the mug in her hands. "I like the way the world looks on Christmas. Even if everyone doesn't celebrate it, the air feels different. There's more...camaraderie, I suppose. With a world so chaotic, it's nice to see every once in a while."
He chose not to comment. However, he did think it was a nice sentiment. She'd been getting herself out in the world lately, and holidays always seemed odd to her, but she appreciated them, or at least the ideas behind them.
Diana drummed her fingers against her mug, eyeing him. "You really don't feel any differently today?"
"Why would I?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Even you have things you must be grateful for."
"Yes," he groused. "Like peace and quiet while I'm working."
She slammed the mug down on the console, though with a mere fraction of her usual strength, or else it would have shattered. "Then allow me to get out of your way, you stubborn fool."
Diana stalked out of the Monitor Womb. With every sharp click of her heels, Bruce felt worse and worse until the sound vanished altogether as she turned the corner. He sipped the cider. It tasted bitter now.
Damn it all.
"Hera help me, Shayera, I'm going to rip his head off his shoulders!"
The Thanagarian laughed. "Wow, Princess, that's a little hardcore even for you."
Diana threw herself down on her bed and scowled. "He's just so...so...infuriating."
"He's Batman," Shayera said, her tone teasing. "Of course he is."
"I can't believe I thought he would be any different," she grumbled, crossing her arms. "This holiday has no effect on him whatsoever. I've done nothing but waste my time."
"Well..."
"Well, what?" Diana demanded.
"He is Batman," she continued. "He's trying to push you away so he doesn't have to actually feel anything. His whole persona is based around being emotionless and intimidating. It's sort of hard to do that around you, Diana. You have a peculiar effect on him."
She pursed her lips, skeptical. "How so?"
"You gave him the cider, right?"
"Right."
"He generally doesn't accept anything people offer him. Ever."
Diana hesitated. "I...suppose I hadn't considered that."
"And he carried at least part of a casual conversation with you. Which is rare. You've seen The Flash try that, right? Usually he just glares at him until he leaves. And then there's that Princess thing."
Diana adopted a baffled look. "Princess thing?"
Shayera snorted. "Have you ever noticed he's the only one who calls you that? None of us do that except for him."
"Why does that matter? I am a princess."
"He uses it like a nickname. It's a sign of affection, Diana."
She chewed her lip. "I...also hadn't considered that either."
"Bottom line, he's being insufferable because he likes you and he doesn't want you to realize it. Men like that have to feel in control at all times, and Batman is the ultimate control freak. Now you just have to decide what you want to do about it."
Diana heard a beeping sound in the background. "Oh, we're closing in on our destination. I've got to go."
"Have fun, Shayera. And...thank you for your insight. Merry Christmas."
"Enjoy your holiday, Diana. And don't take anymore of his crap while you're at it!" She hung up before Diana could respond. The Amazon shook her head and smiled to herself.
A second later, the link in her ear beeped again, and Batman's growling baritone filled it.
"Diana, meet me at the telepad."
"Copy that," she said, and hauled herself to her feet.
After a long, exhausting, explosive battle with Star Sapphire, Diana was relieved to return to the Watchtower. She'd been so tired she hadn't even considered what to do with the few remaining hours on Christmas Day. Now she just wanted a hot bath and a good night's rest. She and Bruce hadn't spoken much aside from when he gave her a rundown of the situation with Star Sapphire. He'd definitely settled into Grinch mode, and she decided not to enable him by trying to get him in the Christmas spirit.
She shuffled towards the break room with a towel around her shoulders, her raven hair still a bit damp from being washed, peering down at her cell phone as she watched a live feed of Times Square where some kind of Christmas celebration was being held. She wore an oversized green sweater, jeans, and sneakers this time, as she intended to settle in for the night unless another emergency arose.
So she did expect to bump right into Bruce in the break room.
"Oh!" she said in surprise. "Sorry. I didn't-"
She blinked at him, too stunned to finish the sentence. He was out of costume, which she didn't see very often. He wore a black turtleneck and grey slacks, the sleeves pushed up over his strong forearms, and his hair was just a little ruffled, which gave his handsome face a slightly more casual look. Then, a second later, she realized she smelled something completely delicious, and glanced down at the table in the center of the room.
There was a small, glazed ham in the center, adorned with a ring of pineapple and a cherry, next to an aluminum tin of stuffing, a pan with two cornish hens in them, a container of gravy, a plate of green beans, a platter of warm, buttery dinner rolls, and a bottle of white wine.
Diana felt blessed her jaw didn't shatter when it hit the floor.
Bruce cleared his throat. "I noticed you hadn't eaten this evening."
"Did...did you make all of this?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be funny? I'd set the Watchtower on fire if I attempted to cook. There was a Honeybaked Ham open overseas, since it's already the day after Christmas over there. I made a stop. Are you still hungry?"
Diana's stomach growled comically loud. She blushed intensely. Bruce grinned at her. She hit him in the ribs lightly, harrumphed, and walked past him to grab a plate, her head held high. She stacked it with everything available in the small spread and sat down. He popped the wine bottle open and poured them both glasses before settling down across from her.
The food was sublime. She fought the urge to make yummy noises, considering he'd probably never let her forget it. Neither of them spoke, but somehow, it didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. On the contrary, it rather felt familiar and friendly. Certainly friendlier than their earlier interaction.
"That," she said after the last bite. "Was fantastic. How much do I owe you for it?"
Bruce just glared. She laughed. "I only wanted to see that look on your face. Thank you for dinner, Bruce."
"You're welcome," he said. "And if you promise not to make any more Grinch references for the remainder of tonight, you get dessert as well."
"Oh?" she asked, her eyes sparkling eagerly.
He snorted and rose from the table, walking to the fridge. He returned with a little plastic container with a thick slice of cake that looked moist even from where she sat. She beamed and reached for it, but he held it above her head with a severe expression.
"No more Grinch references."
Diana rolled her eyes. "I promise."
He smirked and handed it to her. "Lemon pound cake from a bakery in Paris."
Her eyes rolled back as she popped it open and inhaled its heavenly scent. "Merry Christmas to me."
Bruce chuckled and sat down as he watched her take the first bite. She chewed slowly, savoring every single flavor that spread across her tastebuds, unable to help a happy little sigh. "Man-made sweets are half the reason I left Themyscira."
He actually laughed. It was rich and warm, like caramel. "Is that right, Princess?"
"Absolutely," she admitted.
She caught a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What was the other half of your reasoning?"
Was he-the Dark Knight, protector of Gotham-actually flirting with her right now? She nearly pinched herself to be sure she was awake. He'd been happy to flirt with her at Princess Audrey's party when he'd been sure she wouldn't be able to tell it was him, and yet there he sat, handsome and disarming, after buying her Christmas dinner, his dark lashes half-lowered over his cornflower blue eyes, openly teasing her.
Diana paused with the fork inches away from her mouth, a demure smirk on her lips. "You're the World's Greatest Detective. You figure it out."
She then offered him a forkful of cake. "Would you like to try some?"
Bruce held her steady, challenging stare. She'd heard the expression "poking the bear" before, and knew she'd pretty much done that by taunting him. It was a risk. He could retreat within himself again and leave her out in the cold.
Instead, he stood and walked over. He placed one hand on the arm of her chair and leaned in, close enough for her to get a whiff of his mild cologne, and his eyes were all for her. His lips parted. Diana couldn't look anywhere else as they closed in around the fork. She had no idea how he accomplished it, but he somehow made the simple motion utterly sexy in every way.
He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, still holding her gaze. His velvet voice came out rather self-satisfied. "Delicious."
Then he winked at her and turned on his heel, heading for the door. "Princess."
She watched him go and smiled to herself, humming the Dr. Seuss "Welcome Christmas" song under her breath as she finished her Christmas cake.