A/N: This is inspired by Alex Ross' JLA Christmas painting.

~Christmas~

Wally skidded into the meeting wearing a Santa hat and hauling a tree behind him. "Look guys! I helped this guy hauling pines and he gave me one! We can put it in the main hall and have a present exchange, or secret santa or both and we—."

"Sounds like a great idea," Clark said, and pushed away a couple branches of the tree so he could actually see Wally. The conference room wasn't that big and Wally had had to wedge it in sideways. Still, the thing looked to be about twenty feet tall and ten wide. "Just get that out of here before Br—."

"What is this?" Bruce roared. The doors to the room slid shut and he was trapped between the tree and the door. Clark sighed.

Bruce shoved his way between the branches and grabbed Wally. "Get this out. Now."

"Lay off, he was just trying to be cheery," Clark stood up from the table and picked up the tree. "Something you might try doing."

Bruce muttered screw you just loud enough for Clark to pick up on, and sat down.

After Clark had flown the tree to the main hall, Diana took out the minutes. "All right, so holiday plans?"

Clark pulled a sheet from under the desk. "Well, we've got the tree from Wally, and Stargirl is organizing a gift exchange, and I think Captain Atom said he could procure some lights…"

"Why are we discussing this?" Bruce asked. "Are we supposed to be doing something important?"

Clark sighed. "If you want to excuse yourself, then by all means leave. We'll be here enjoying the spirit of the holidays."

Batman snorted.

Diana smacked the minutes back down on the table and crossed her arms. "Honestly, do Alfred and the boys put up with you being such a killjoy this time of year?"

Bruce said, and got up. "I've got more important things to do than this." He walked out with no further ado.

"Any chance of his heart growing three sizes too big?" Wally asked.

Clark just shook his head sadly.

***#***

It was the week before Christmas, and the Watchtower was dressed to the nines. Wally's tree had turned out beautifully with red and gold tinsel and over a hundred ornaments. Captain Marvel had put out menorahs in the main hall windows and Stargirl had painted the rest like stained glass.

"Hey, you guys want to come over Christmas Eve?" Clark, John, Wally, and Diana were admiring the tree. "Ma said she'd bake apple pie and ham."

"As if I'd pass that up!" Wally said.

Diana laughed. "You'd better tell your mother she'll need more than one ham. "

Someone sighed darkly behind then. Clark didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. "Don't worry," he said. "I wouldn't dare invite you."

Bruce glared at him and kept his arms crossed.

Wally, John, and Diana took the opportunity to very quietly leave. Clark nearly followed but decided to take one last crack at Batman.

"Come on, Bruce," he said, gesturing to the tree. "Everyone likes Christmas. Christmas is great."

"Christmas sucks." Bruce stared up at the glittering lights, and actually grimaced.

"As if," Clark said. "I'm sure Alfred makes a turkey, and mashed potatoes and the boys are both perfectly jolly. I hear Dick has been on you to watch It's a Wonderful Life for years."

"Hmph," Bruce said.

"I heard Gotham Park has a skating rink," Clark tried one last time. "I bet Tim would love to be skating without being in pursuit of a supervillian."

"Hmph."

"Is that all you can say?" Clark teased. Bruce just stood silent. "Fine, Bruce okay? I give up."

Clark left too, so Bruce was alone in front of the tree.

***#***

It was Christmas Eve. Ma and Pa Kent were in Metropolis cooking (extra, thinking of Wally) dinner. The others were in the living room, with cups of hot cocoa and peppermint cookies.

"Out!" Ma Kent shooed her husband and son into the living room. "There's only room for one of us in here and neither of you can cook."

Diana pulled him under the mistletoe and kissed him on the cheek. "Did you invite Bruce?"

Clark shook his head. "I didn't try."

"Oh, well," Diana handed him a cup of hot chocolate. "I'm sure Alfred will succeed where we can't."

"Yeah." Clark sipped the from the mug. Something was bothering him….he put the mug down on the side table and headed for the balcony. "I'll be right back guys."

He stepped outside and jumped into the air, soaring towards Gotham at mach three. Wayne Manor was coming up fast. The first thing he noticed was that all the lights were out. He stepped through a third floor window.

It was freezing inside, barely warmer then outside. Clark shivered and listened for Bruce. He heard him in the basement (the actual basement, not the secret one) cursing over something. Quietly and carefully, he climbed down the stairs.

Bruce was standing in front of the furnace with a wrench, smeared with black grease. He was trying to pry the front panel off the furnace.

"You need some help there?" Clark asked.

Bruce whirled around. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Metropolis."

"I thought I'd stop by," Clark said, and looked into the furnace. He saw the problem—a busted tube deep in the guts of it.

"Well everything's peachy." Bruce turned back to the furnace and gave the panel a good whack with the wrench. It fell off and landed squarely on his foot. "Goddamn."

"Here." Clark reached into the furnace and pulled out the broken hose. "This is the problem."

"Ah." Bruce held the hose for a minute then tossed the useless thing onto the floor. "Well, I suppose I've got to have another of those around somewhere."

He turned and started rooting around in various boxes. Clark waited a few minutes before asking what he wanted. "Bruce—where are Alfred and the boys?"

"Around," Bruce said.

"Don't lie to me." Clark took the wrench from him.

Bruce looked over his shoulder at him and ignored the question.

"Bruce."

He spun around. "Alfred is in England. The boys are having Christmas with the Titans. Okay? Anything else you desperately need to know?"

Clark was actually a little taken aback. "You were going to just spend Christmas alone in here?"

"Don't be silly," Bruce said. "I was going to go on patrol and try to clear up some cold cases."

"Bruce, that's a terrible way to spend the holidays." Clark watched as Bruce turned his back to him and studiously pretended not to be interested in the conversation.

Bruce rifled through another box. When Clark didn't say anything else he stood up and turned around. "Its fine, Clark. I'm used to it, okay?"

"Why didn't you come with us?" Clark was now a bit horrified too. Bruce still wasn't meeting his eyes. "Ma made plenty of ham. Hot chocolate, also. You don't need to spend the holidays all alone up here."

Bruce shrugged, shoulders slumped. Clark saw a hint of what he was trying to hide.

"No, I'm serious—."

"I know you don't want me around."

"What?" Clark asked.

"I'm not that fun to be around, okay? I get it." Bruce did the little shrug-thing again, a bit sad and more than a bit depressed. Clark saw where the Christmas-hating came from now. "You don't have to spend Christmas with me out of duty."

"Duty?" Clark asked. "Duty? Yes, you could definitely stand to be a tad less grouchy—okay, a lot less grouchy-but Bruce, honey, we like you."

"Really?" Bruce asked.

"Would I be standing here trying to get you to come home with me if I were lying?" Clark tossed the wrench on top of the broken hose and held out his hand. "Come on. Ma's been asking about you."

"All right," Bruce said. Clark was pleased to see a wisp of a smile play across his face. "On two conditions."

"What would those be?"

"First, I'm flying the plane, not being carried." Bruce's expression turned serious. "And second, you are never, ever going to call me honey again."

"Okay," Clark said, and watched as Bruce practically dashed to the Cave to get the batplane.