Authors' Note: Writing in the time of Coronavirus. What a head trip.
Let us start by saying that we are both asymptomatic as of this posting. We are also both in essential industries - coauthor Lois works retail shipping, and coauthor Anissa works in a bank's mailroom. Even though Lois' job may close their doors to the public, and 90% of the bank's personnel may be working from home, someone has to ship the orders out at her job and receive people's payments at mine. So we are both going to be working throughout this situation. We're practicing social distancing and using plenty of disinfectant and washing our hands like Lady MacBeth. We're also both reasonably young and healthy, without risk factors, so we stand a good chance no matter what.
We will continue to write and post this fic. We have some concerns that the action arc is about to go in a direction that isn't exactly uplifting. So we'll promise you now, this story does have a hopeful ending. And this is not at all the last fic in the series. No matter how dark things get, in our world, they will always get better. Remember, we are the ones who wrote Lois and Clark discussing divorce, and their marriage came out stronger in the end. We're the ones who wrote Kal-El and the twins stranded on the kryptonite island, Kala actually bobbing in the sea with her hands zip-tied, and they all not only survived, they thrived by the end. No matter how bad things may look as these chapters roll out, we didn't build all of this up just to burn it down. All of it matters, and as Ivy would tell you, even a tree that seems dead and skeletal in midwinter can bud forth bright and green when spring comes.
Well, one thing that looks ruined stays ruined. Sorry if you 'shipped Harley and Joker, she's through with him. Though I doubt any of our readers support THAT relationship.
In these trying times, remember to be excellent to one another. Try to bring some hope, some love, some laughter, some happiness to the world around you. I know it can be hard. I know there are days when it seems like just getting out of bed is a monumental chore. Take care of yourselves, because we love you. And take care of the people you love. In giving joy to others, you often find some for yourself.
And now, on to the chapter.
Gotham looked, for one night at least, like a fairy-tale city, all dark stone draped in clean white snow. Evergreen garlands and bright ribbons added touches of color to the monochrome landscape, and bright lights twinkled everywhere.
The brighter the light, however, the darker the shadows beyond it. And tonight, five men slipped into the shadows surrounding a building on Park Row.
There were no twinkling lights, no garlands, no ribbons and bows on this building. No regular lights in the windows, either. Joker looked up at the penthouse, and stood silent, his men bunching up around him. "Smart kitty," he finally said. "Bad kitty, but we can't say she's stupid. Come on, boys."
He headed toward the alley behind the building. Clotheslines and electrical wires crisscrossed the space above them, and Joker quickly found the rear door, which seemed to lead into a basement. One of his men hesitated as Joker stared at the door. "Boss? If the Cat's not home…"
"When the Cat's away, mice will play," Joker replied in a singsong. "No, no, we're not mice. But I doubt every cat is gone. If we can't find Catwoman herself, we'll settle for one of her little familiars. You know, the Inquisition believed that a woman who lived alone with only cats for company was likely a witch."
There was a pause while he examined the door, and found the almost-invisible tripwires that led to tiny sensors hidden in the brickwork. Joker frowned at those, and moved along, checking windows. His men followed.
It turned out that every first and second floor window was also tripwired. It made sense that a thief would have good security, since she made a career of circumventing it. Joker circled around to the front door, and found that it wasn't tripwired, but there was a notice tacked up that said the building was undergoing mold abatement – plus more tiny sensors embedded in the jamb. "Oh-ho, look here," he chuckled. "Very stealthy, kitty. I could open this door, but the Bat would be here ten minutes later. Well, well. Let's keep looking, boys. And if you see a cat, let me know."
Eventually they broke into the building next door, finding a vacant apartment that abutted Catwoman's building. And since Joker had anticipated this sort of difficulty, they'd brought construction saws and sledgehammers. All the doors and windows might be alarmed, but no one had the time or the energy to run wires through the load-bearing walls.
They busted into an apartment that should've been occupied. It was fully furnished, there were linens on the beds and knickknacks on the shelves. No one was home, and the entire building was quiet.
Joker moved through incuriously, heading out the apartment's front door. He did check for cameras, and found none in the main hallways. None in the stairwell, either, and he and his men trooped up to the penthouse.
Selina Kyle's personal apartment. Which, Joker noticed immediately, also had its front door wired up with sensors. "Want us to bust through, boss?" one of the men asked.
Placing his hand against the wall, Joker closed his eyes thoughtfully. "No, no. If she bothered to wire the walls anywhere, she did it here. And she's not home, anyway. Bad kitty. Ah well, I know how to get her attention. Paulie?"
One of his men had been tasked with carrying a couple cans of tuna, and he opened one now. The smell of canned fish was strong, and the crack of the pull-tab opening the can was loud in the quiet building. "Here, kitty kitty kitty," Joker called, turning in a slow circle. "Who wants a tasty snack, hmm? Here kitties, Daddy brought you a nice treat!"
Silence. Not even a single meow, and only then did Joker frown.
They repeated opening the cans and calling in the stairwell, the front lobby, and the alley behind the building. To Joker's deepening unrest, the only answer they received was a brief flash of a raccoon's eyes from within the dumpster behind the buildings. "Toss it," Joker growled, and Paulie threw all the cans into the dumpster. Joker paced, scowling. "She moved them all, somehow. Where could she hide that many cats for a while? The shelter? No, not her. A vet? Hmm, no. A friend? Hell, who in this town would take that on?"
And then he stopped. "Oh. Of course. Never mind, boys, we're going to have to do some trekking. Let's go."
The men looked at each other, clearly troubled, and Joker sighed. He couldn't have them thinking he'd been outwitted by three women – Harley who had beaten him, Ivy who hadn't risen to his bait, and now Catwoman who'd slipped out of his grasp. "Boys, boys. Catwoman is a slippery little creature. But I know how to get her attention. And I know right where she is. It's not the best time to go knocking on Batman's door, though. I'm saving the best for last."
"So we're letting Catwoman go?" one of them asked.
"Of course not! I just need to send her a message, and she was rude enough not to leave me anything to write it on," he chided.
"There were notebooks in that apartment we were in," one of the men said helpfully.
"I'm not looking for paper," Joker said.
"Then…" another man asked.
Sometimes they were so dull. "Find me a cat. I prefer black, but any cat will do. We might have to leave the East End to do it. I bet she's put the word out around here."
Although Selina herself would have denied the capability to do so – she was Catwoman, not Dr. Doolittle – Joker and his men weren't going to see a single cat out and about that night, no matter how hard they searched.
…
Christmas Eve, everyone was back at the Kent farmhouse. Not all of the far-flung families had come to visit; a last-minute snowstorm had resulted in a lot of bumped flights and reroutes. They'd all just been there for Thanksgiving, so the Troupes ended up giving up their tickets and staying in Metropolis. The airline had the grace to compensate them handsomely. All the Lane-Kents and Whites were under one roof again, though, the Whites having left earlier and by private plane. The Lane-Kents, of course, flew Kal-El Air, and no snowstorm interfered with that service.
This morning, an increasingly frazzled Elise finally had a breakdown when she forgot to set the oven timer and burned an entire batch of cookies, her grandmother's special recipe, so badly that the kitchen filled with smoke. Richard, Lana, and Lois got her settled down in the living room while she cried it all out. Without even conscious thought, or a word of planning, the other three sprang into action before things could escalate. Clark yanked the pan of carbonized cookies out and chucked them out the back door, Kala got all the windows open in record time, and Jason used a judicious amount of super-breath to clear the smoke out. A minute or so later, no one would ever have guessed what had occurred. Not even the burnt smell lingered too badly.
It wasn't until the crisis had been averted, and the twins turned to grin at one another, that they saw Kristin standing in the doorway. They had forgotten about Kristin. Kala froze, knowing her face had the same wide-eyed expression she saw on her brother's – and her father, walking back in with the steaming-hot baking sheet in his bare hands, looked just as shocked. This was a discussion that none of them had been quite ready for. Oh shit, here we go again, Kala thought despairingly. She'd hoped to avoid any drama this holiday, but life was clearly laughing at her for that wish.
Kristin looked at all of them, silence ticking out for a minute, then two, and finally just said, "What do you want? A round of applause?"
That startled Jason into jagged laughter, Kala still in utter disbelief. "You know what, you two can handle this, I'm going to check on my wife."
He went out, not quite able to look his little sister in the eye. Which just left Kala and her father. To be fair, she couldn't blame Jase, but she wanted to hide just as much. That said, she wasn't going to leave Dad like this. Kala had kept the secret, too, and maybe this was the best thing. No more secrets. Clark just looked at Kristin soberly and put the baking sheet down in the sink. What more could he do? "How long have you known?"
The redhead's expression didn't change from calm and curious as she shrugged. This was absolutely not what Kala had expected, especially not from an important and much-loved member of this family from her very birth. No anger here, just that bright light in her eye that showed how shrewd she was. "I mean, I always knew you were different. I didn't realize how different until like a year or so ago. And then I figured, no one's told me anything, so I'd just keep it quiet until you did."
That … surprised Kala. So far, that had not been a reaction that she'd seen. It made sense, honestly, but most people were not as close in the heart of things. Maybe it also explained a few questions that everyone had been waiting for the baby of the family to ask that had never come. It was a hallmark of their Dormouse that she never made waves. Well, now they knew why. "See, that's why you're a Slytherin," Kala told her with a little smile. "Also why you're the one who's gonna be a reporter."
Dad spoke up then, smiling just the same, but he regarded her with that serious, earnest tone of his, the one that was more truly him than Clark Kent or Kal-El. "We were talking recently about telling you," Clark said gently, moving forward to take her hands in his. Kristin didn't hesitate to take them. "It's always hard, to decide when the time is right. We don't want to just shove that knowledge onto someone who's not ready for it, but any time after about the age of ten, it comes out like a secret we should've let you in on earlier."
"I get it," Kristin said, looking him in the eye with a smile just as solemn, and Kala breathed out. So far, this was a hundred times less dramatic than Sebast finding out. With that, Kristin arched an eyebrow in perfect imitation of her mother's imperious look, and added, "If there's any other family secrets, just go ahead and tell me, okay? I'm gonna be real mad if it turns out that whole OT4 thing was real all along."
That had Kala throwing her head back to laugh, instantly in tears, as Clark coughed, blushing. Well, that not only broke the ice, it turned it to slush. Poor Dad. "No, that's very much just a silly office rumor. And if I ever find out who told you…"
Again, Little K had her dad's impish grin for all she looked so clearly Lana's. "The mailroom hears all your gossip, you know," Kristin informed him. "You guys do act a lot closer than normal co-parenting among remarried divorcees or whatever the closest non-superhero equivalent is to your situation, but once you stick the cape element in there, it makes more sense. Personally I think the world would be a better place if more kids could say that have two moms and two dads, but then, I'm just lucky like that."
Still grinning, relieved and delighted that this was the solution to such a big reveal, Kala went over and pulled her little sister into a hug. "And we're lucky to have you," Kala said staunchly.
"Have to agree with that," Clark said. "Kristin, I don't want to cut this short, but I should get Elise some water." And tell the others that they'd just outed themselves, since Jason was distracted by Elise. Kala figured as much, but he wouldn't say that.
"No big deal. They ought to know. I get it, Dad. It's fine. So, Big K, you wanna go outside where it doesn't smell like the death of pastry and talk about superhero stuff?" Kristin asked, looking up at her.
Kala felt like she should've been the one bringing Elise a glass of water, but Kristin would probably be more comfortable talking to her. She nodded, and she and her little sister went outside. Kristin grabbed her coat on the way out, and they crossed the yard to the tire swing, leaving footprints in the snow. The sun had come up so the day was warm enough, but Kristin still had to beat snow off the swing before she sat in it. She set it rocking lazily back and forth as Kala swept snow off the nearby picnic bench. Kala hopped on top of it, the wood cold under her jeans but not unpleasantly so, and waited for the questions to start.
"Okay," Kristin said. "He's Superman. Jason's Superboy. Who are you?"
"What makes you think I am someone?" Kala asked. "We've got to protect Mom. I can't run around as Supergirl, people will start to wonder about Lois Lane's twins."
Kristin laughed. "Yeah, right. If you've got the powers – and you just opened four windows in two seconds, so duh – then you're using them. And I know you wouldn't have something like that and just use it for yourself. You'd have to be out there saving people if you could."
Sighing, Kala couldn't help a rueful smile. Kristin didn't know the whole truth, then. "You'd be surprised. Not everyone with powers gets into the game. It can be very dangerous out there, for lots more reasons than the obvious."
Nodding, Kristin said, "Okay, so I'm gonna lean into this whole Slytherin thing, then. If you won't talk about being a superhero, let's talk about your new boyfriend. Is this for real? Because you've never been so secretive before."
Ouch. Direct hit. Kala sucked in a breath. "Okay, Draco, a little too much Slytherin there. Jesus."
All she got in response was a laugh, Kristin kicking her feet to keep the swing moving. Kala finally sighed. "Yeah, it's … it's gotten pretty damn real."
"I figured," Kristin told her. "Real enough for you to break up with Sebast over it and that's, frankly, kinda scary. I never thought that could ever happen. Who is this guy?"
Another score with that one. If she was fair, she should have seen that coming. Kristin had loved Sebast since she'd met him, when she was only eight. He had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. And, considering, her sister had been incredibly good about this, though Kala knew she missed him. Hell, they all missed him, she knew that. But this was not exactly a focus she wanted to deal with right now. Scowling, Kala reminded her sharply, "You know damn well that Sebast and I were never dating. C'mon, Kristin, we deal with his family all the time, I can't handle it from you, too."
The redhead sighed hugely, leaning back in the swing and rolling her eyes. "Big K, come on. Of course you were never dating; you both yell that at the top of your lungs every chance you get, but that doesn't mean you don't love him like crazy, anyway. You know I know better. And he loves you just as crazy. It's still a breakup if it causes you both this much emotional trauma."
Aggravated, Kala glared at her sister. It shouldn't surprise her the level of insight Kristin had, but it again couldn't be anything else, never expecting such shrewd questioning from this quarter. Kristin had been their favorite to spoil for so long, the pair of them taking her everywhere with them at times in the summer when they were off-tour, letting her stay over for the week often. Of everyone in the family, her Dormouse had the most unique view into their lives together when no one was looking. And clearly she had seen things even they hadn't. With a heavy sigh, Kala leaned back on the table, giving a tired sigh before she finally admitted, "You know what, you're probably right."
"Yeah, I get that from Mom. I'm usually right." Kristin sounded just as assured as Lana, and Kala huffed at her for it. What she said next damn near knocked Kala right off the picnic bench. "So, you're the Blur, and you're dating Red Hood. How'd that happen? His reputation isn't anything I'd expect you to put up with."
Just that name from Kristin's lips sent a million alarms screaming through her head. Warning alarms brayed that that brilliant little mind was treading too, too close to a dark hole she had no business circling. "How … what … Kristin, what the fuck?" Kala finally managed to say, ice in her veins. "Jesus fuck, are we really that bad at this?"
Kristin just laughed merrily at her, untouched by fear. "I've known you my whole life, big sister. I've known all three of you my whole life. Sooner or later all the little weird stuff was gonna add up. From the conversations that stop when I walk in, to the way Daddy Clark just shows up sometimes right when he needs to be there. Also, language. Mom would have an aneurysm."
Realizing what she had done, Kala winced. Yep, he was right; she was absolutely picking up his bad habits. "Yeah, I gotta admit that he's bad for my language filter," Kala muttered, blushing. "I can't believe this. I never knew just how awful I was capable of being at this. First Sebast, and now you. It's so not my year."
"At least the year's almost over. Anyway, I take it Sebast finding out is part of the reason he's in Ponce and you guys haven't made up yet?" Kristin asked, a little too innocently.
"No, I just… It's more complicated than that. In a way, him finding out helped. It also hurt some, too. He was furious that I lied to him for so long about something so fundamental." Kala still winced to say it.
Kristin shrugged one shoulder. "Nah, there's a difference between lying and keeping a secret. I knew I was into girls for like, a year and a half before I told you. Nobody owes anyone else a complete inventory of all their stuff. Being half-Super is only part of who you are. He's just mad because he wants all of you. Well, except for the sex."
That … was another observation she wasn't expecting. Oh yeah, somehow they had been a little too much themselves around Kristin. Powers of perception on this one were very much a fifteen out of ten, at this point. Yeah, Mom's Heir, indeed. Blushing harder, Kala admitted, "Yeah, well, sex happened at least once. A word of big-sisterly advice: don't drink with anyone you have a crush on."
At least Kristin's horrified expression made this entire terrible conversation worth it. "Oh my God. No wonder he's been so weird. Kala! Yuck, I bet that makes it all super awkward with the boyfriend, too."
Never had Kala quite wanted to pitch herself off the edge of the earth in sheer embarrassment. Now she gets dramatic. "You have no idea," Kala said dryly. "We're not talking about my sex life. How the hell did you figure us out?"
That stopped the horrified face she'd been making, thank God. Kristin smiled brightly at that, and Kala caught another glimpse of Lois' legacy in the future journalist. "Oh, there were a lot of things. You're not horrible at hiding it, by the way. If the only people who have figured it out have known you for eight to sixteen years and have lived with you, that's pretty good. Anyway, the biggest one that clicked for me is the way Jase looks you. Superboy looks at the Blur the same way. Kind of an 'I love you so much but I'm going to strangle you but not really because I love you but you're a huge pain in my ass' sort of thing. That one press conference where someone asked if he was dating the Blur? It got re-uploaded to Capespotting when the Blur and Red Hood became a thing. Which, good cover there, but the exasperated way Jason looked after you blurred in and left a lipstick print on his cheek? I've seen that same look way too many times. All the hair gel and posture changes in the world can't hide it."
That had Kala's eyebrows rising. Since when…? "Shit," Kala muttered. "Also, I had no idea you were on Capespotting. God, I hate that site."
"Yeah, you should love it. Once I had a good idea who was who, I started slipping fake sightings into the site where you all have an ironclad alibi," Kristin said with another grin. "Since I used a Daily Planet intern's login to send in the 'anonymous' reports, they got posted as fact."
Oh yeah, that was Mom's adopted newsprint running through her veins. Sneaky little monster. "Do I even wanna know how you got some poor intern's login?" Kala groaned.
"People really shouldn't write their username and password on a post-it note under their keyboard," Kristin said archly. "Bryan actually found it. Rather than turn the guy in, we've been using his login to read the company emails. Bryan figures Perry would be proud. Don't tell Mom, she'll have a fit about my moral degeneration."
"You're terrible," Kala groaned. "Also I need to tell the JLA's information broker that my little sister is inserting fake material on Capespotting. Yes, it's being monitored. Apparently one of the Gotham rogues has someone on their staff."
"I figured you all had to have some badass resources. With all the Bat-gadgets and Lantern sci-fi stuff and alien technology. I admit the photos of Jason and Superboy in the same shot, like Daddy Clark and Superman in the same video, were kinda hard to dismiss, but deepfakes are getting really good these days." Kristin was still remarkably calm about the whole situation.
Okay, Little Miss Jaded. Taking in her almost blasé tone, Kala decided to try and shake that up a little. "So, your sister's an alien. Shouldn't be too much for you. Wasn't there a kids' book you liked like that?"
"You're thinking of 'My Teacher Is an Alien!' and the first one was pretty good. The rest got weird. Also, my sister is only half an alien, and all my sister." Kristin shrugged again. "Besides, I was never going to think of you as aliens. Dad is like the biggest Superman fan in existence."
"No, I really think Mom is," Kala pointed out.
Kristin snickered. "Yeah, she really got the exclusives all right."
"That joke's been around longer than you've been alive," Kala laughed.
"And it's still funny. Okay. Half my family are aliens. No big. You've been telling people that for years whenever they call you a vampire, and I really wanted to smack you when I finally got the joke," Kristin said. "Now what the hell is my usually sensible despite her massive Goth-ness sister doing dating the freaking Red Hood?! Don't even try to backtrack, since I know you're the Blur, that has to be the guy you're seeing. He's the only one deep enough in your life to be a candidate, and if there was anyone else, I would've heard about him." Kristin tried to give her Lana's stern look; she wasn't quite up to her mother's ability on that yet.
"I'm not exactly dating Red Hood," Kala hedged.
That earned her a snort of derision. "What, just sleeping with him?"
Kala winced. "No, more like … I work with Red Hood. I'm dating his civilian identity. Not that he knows how to have a civilian identity, but there's like one diner in Gotham where they regularly see him with the helmet off. And I go there with him to get teased about eating the goat-cheese omelet."
"Okay, that makes some kind of sense," Kristin mused. "So like … all the other people you've dated weren't superheroes, right? I mean, Dustin doesn't put on a cape when we're not looking?"
That one had her laughing at loud. Their favorite mechanic hated drama, and he was far too honest and up-front to maintain a secret identity. "Oh God, no. Hood's the first cape I ever dated. Which comes with its own problems, but then, so does dating civilians. No one else I dated ever knew about Dad."
Kristin looked at her thoughtfully. "That's weird. I mean, I kind of get it? At least the hiding-who-you-are part. Bobby Fisher in the fifth grade asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend, and I said yes because everyone else was doing it. We were like ten, it only meant holding hands. But once I realized all the other girls in middle school were getting stupid about boys, and I wasn't, I talked it up into some True Love nonsense just so I wouldn't look weird. I know girls who are so far in the closet they have boyfriends and they've actually slept with them – I mean, bisexuals exist, but I know girls who are as gay as Aunt Tobie and they do that. It's not the same thing, at all, but I can't imagine dating someone who didn't know something like that."
Kala flinched. "It's not like I had a choice. 'By the way my father is Superman' is so not a first-date conversation. I mean, even J – even Hood is still kinda looking over his shoulder expecting Dad to show up and slap him across an ocean for getting handsy with his little girl."
Nodding, Kristin said, "I guess I'm being hypocritical, too. I mean, I'm your sister and I didn't know. That's a lot closer than anyone you've dated. So it's like, who you are is more important than what you are. And even though I didn't know all the details on what, I know who everyone involved is. Daddy Clark is the same guy, no matter what. And once you know that about him, it's obvious that he's the kind of guy who would stop an asteroid one-handed and then go rescue a kitten from a tree. He's just like that."
Based on how everything had gone down with Sebast, Kala really hadn't expected Kristin to be this calm or reflective about the whole situation. She was, however, extremely grateful for it. No matter how much time she'd had to think about it, the revelation had to have been a shock. Hopefully Sebast could be as accepting, too. "You're the coolest little sister there ever was, you know that? I love you, Little K."
"I love you, too, Big K," Kristin said, as if surprised that it needed to be confirmed. "Although now the future Pulitzer Prize winner in me wants to know all the deets. Who Red Hood really is, if my guess on that is right, what powers you have, how come people think the Blur is a speedster. All that stuff."
Laughing, Kala decided to be a little daring. She let herself float upward from her cross-legged position, watching Kristin's jaw drop. "Mostly we let people think the Blur only has speed for three reasons. One, it was one of the earliest powers to show up and I'm most familiar with using it, so it's harder to hide. Two, if they think I only have speed, the strength and flight and invulnerability and heat-vision will come as a surprise, so I have aces in the hole. And three, if people knew my full power-set, especially the heat-vision, they'd start to think I'm a lot like a Super. We're trying to protect the whole family. Especially you guys and the Troupes."
"Makes sense," Kristin finally said. "Bet you save a fortune in airfare with that."
"And I never need a lighter. Makes it easier to hide the occasional smoke." Kala preferred to downplay it as much as possible, trying not to warp the image of herself in her little sister's mind. Kristin had been okay so far, but really thinking about the powers was what made people nervous most of the time. Even other capes.
The back door opened, and both of them looked around to see Lois stepping out onto the porch. She headed toward them with a rueful smile. "So I hear the cat's out of the bag for our Dormouse."
"Yep. Figured you all out months ago," Kristin replied cheerfully. "Now hire me upstairs, obviously I've got the chops for it."
"Graduate first," Lois shot back. "Kala, put your butt on the bench. Someone could drive by and see you. Also you know you should wear a coat. What if the Carmichaels come over?"
"Dustin will lend her his jacket," Kristin said archly.
Lois laughed at that, even as Kala settled back onto the picnic table. "His girlfriend might not like that. Besides, we're mostly safe out here, but it never pays to get complacent."
"Which is why I can hear all the way to Possum Trot, Mom," Kala pointed out, rolling her eyes. "If a car was coming I'd duck back inside."
Kristin stopped swinging, her toes dragging through the snow. "God, I can't imagine how much of daily life is just covering your butt."
"A lot," Kala and Lois deadpanned in unison, both laughing when they realized they'd done it. Lois continued, "And then for us, who are in the know but don't have convenient super-powers to cover our tracks, we end up getting very good at coming up with excuses for everything the rest of them do. Welcome to a lifetime of that."
Kristin nodded. "But they're family. We're going to do everything we can to protect them. I mean, lying to cover up for the kid at school who put Alka-Seltzer in all the toilets is one thing. Lying to cover up for Superman? That's not even a moral quandary. Of course I've got everyone's backs."
"This is so not even how I planned to spend my Christmas Eve," Kala sighed.
Lois chuckled. "Oh, but our family always does drama on the holidays. C'mon, girls, let's go inside where it's warm, reassure Elise that she's not a total failure, and we'll share all the stories you haven't heard yet, Kristin."
Kala hopped down, brushing off the seat of her pants. "Might as well. Speaking of which, Little K – Aunt Lucy's family doesn't know. So keep them in the dark, okay?"
"Will do," Kristin replied, extricating herself from the tire swing. "I was the last one in our side of the family to know, huh?"
"Sounds like you figured it out before Sebast, but the two of you were the only holdouts on our side," Lois told her, and Kala tried not to shiver at the casual way Sebast was still considered family. God, things were going to be difficult when he came home.
…
Dinah kicked high and punched low, bringing down the last two opponents, and stood panting in the middle of the alley. "Merry freakin' Christmas," she muttered, rolling her shoulders.
Roy strolled toward her, with an arrow nocked but his bowstring not yet drawn, just in case any of the defeated men got frisky. "Gotham really gets into the holiday spirit," he said, with a slight smile. "Glad I could fill in for Huntress tonight."
"Glad to have you," Dinah told him honestly, reaching for zip ties. "Let's clean this up. Congrats, gentlemen, you get to spend Christmas Day in jail."
"Gentlemen's not quite the word I'd choose," Roy opined.
She laughed a little, cuffing groaning thugs. "Well, me neither. Two-Face is getting tense if he's cutting into the Falcones' operations like this. Maybe we'll get a thank-you note for not letting these fools shoot up Carmine's favorite club."
One of the men growled, "Fuck you, bitch," and Dinah kicked him in the belly, pulling it at the last second so she only stole his air, and didn't rupture a spleen or something.
An arrow thunked into the ground scant inches from his nose, and Roy said dangerously, "Watch your mouth unless you want your new street name to be Porcupine."
"Easy, Arsenal," Dinah said, not bother to keep the chuckle out of her voice. "It's been a long night for everyone. I guess these guys are a little upset, with Joker acting out all over town. Anyone know what he's up to next, by any chance?"
None of them answered, but she wasn't really surprised by that. Once all the men were restrained and stacked neatly by their getaway vehicle, she called it in. "Oracle, we're clear here. What's the situation on the home front?"
"GCPD is on the way," Babs replied. "And I'm tolerating the invasion reasonably well. My new doctor says my gingerbread intake is critically low, though."
Dinah laughed merrily. "Nice to know someone's actually celebrating Christmas."
…
Helena Bertinelli was not as observant a Catholic as she should be, these days, but she never missed Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. It had always been her favorite mass as a little girl, one of the few occasions she was allowed to stay up so late. The grand St. Anthony's Catholic Church downtown would be decorated with evergreen boughs, the choir sang Christmas carols, and everyone dressed in festive finery. Something about the cold night outside and the warm light glinting on gold inside, the scent of frankincense and myrrh, and the sound of voices solemnly singing Adeste, fideles, all combined to mean Christmas to her in a way nothing else, not even the presents under the tree or her grandmother's mustazzoli, ever could.
She didn't attend St. Anthony's, these days. It served a wealthy parish where even now she might be recognized, and Helena didn't want to deal with that. All she wanted was a quiet night to stand in the presence of God, among her fellow midnight worshippers, filling her heart with the promise of peace. The weight of all her complications and past sins seemed to fall away, on that one night, and it was something sacred she didn't wish to share with anyone curious about the lost Bertinelli daughter.
So she went to the Church of St. Rita, a smaller and more unassuming structure in the East End. No gold on the altar there, only gold plating, and none of the finery Helena had grown up with in St. Anthony's. The missals were paperback, some of the vestments showed a little wear, and the sacramental wine came from California, not Tuscany. Still, the incense was the same, and the hymns were perhaps even more heartfelt. St. Rita's cash flow went right back into the community, for the most part, another reason why Helena preferred to attend there.
She arrived at a quarter after eleven, bundled up against the cold, and dipped her fingertips in holy water from the marble font just inside the door. Genuflecting despite the chill of the water, Helena went in and chose a pew about halfway back. The church would not be completely full, this late, and the middle section would be comfortably spaced between the stragglers uncomfortable with being here, and those up front too eager to show their piety. She knelt, facing the altar and crossed herself again, then took her seat at the outside of the pew. Lowering the kneeler, she leaned her forearms on the back of the pew in front, and began to quietly pray the rosary, slipping the beads through her fingers easily from long familiarity. Helena knew this was in some ways a meditation, and welcomed the clarity of mind it brought her.
The church was filling up, and Helena was on the second Our Father, when she noticed an elderly woman in a lace mantilla moving hesitantly up the aisle. She sank slowly to one knee at the end of Helena's pew, genuflected before the altar, and then made her way down with careful, mincing steps. She set down her purse, gloved hands trembling slightly, and Helena looked up from her rosary with a welcoming smile…
… that turned to surprise when the older woman winked at her with very familiar green eyes. Selina Kyle. All of Helena's serenity vanished. What was Catwoman doing in her church, in disguise no less? "Thou shalt not steal," Helena whispered under her breath, still eyeing Selina as she knelt a little distance away.
"Thou shalt not kill," Selina remarked, but she shrugged. "Then again, honor thy father and mother. We're all sinners here, Helena, just doing our best to get by."
"What brings you to St. Rita's?" Helena murmured, still keeping her voice low. She'd never seen the thief here, but she doubted Catwoman was a regular parishioner.
Then again, few people would believe Huntress was devout.
"I usually go to St. Nicholas'," Selina replied, her voice just as soft. Helena was familiar with that church as well, located in mid-town. She'd visited while searching for a new place of worship, but St. Rita's had felt more like home. Selina continued, "Now is not a good time for me to follow routines. Which is also why I'm incognito tonight."
She had to admit, the disguise was good. Midnight Mass, like the Easter morning and Christmas morning services, attracted a certain number of people who didn't go to church the rest of the year. Those people never knew when they were supposed to sit, stand, or kneel, so they always looked for a little old lady to follow. And there always was a little old lady, or half a dozen of them. Selina had picked a disguise that everyone would look at, but no one would see.
When Helena didn't question her further, Selina took a rosary out of her own pocket. Helena eyed her warily, but her lips moved to the same rhythm of prayer she'd interrupted, and well … it wasn't that much of a stretch. Selina might be authentically Catholic, too.
It was Christmas Eve, and Helena wasn't here as Huntress. She wasn't even here as Helena Bertinelli. She was here as the little girl who had looked at the nativity in awe, feeling wonder and hope blooming in her heart. She closed her eyes and prayed, for forgiveness of her own sins and for the safety of everyone she cared about. Who knew, maybe Selina was doing the same thing.
She didn't even blink in surprise when Selina placed several hundred-dollar bills in the collection plate. Both times it was passed around.
…
Babs felt a headache started behind her eyes, and pulled herself away from the screens. She kept expecting Joker to make a move, either tonight or tomorrow. It was a big holiday, people were moving around, surely he had something planned. Of course, she had also watched the data feeds on the first day of Hanukkah, and she'd be more vigilant on the last day as well. Babs couldn't decide if Joker was more likely to strike out on the holiday because Harley was Jewish, or if he didn't care. Or if he knew that Hanukkah wasn't even the most important holiday in the Jewish calendar; it just got all the attention for falling close to Christmas.
Trying to out-think him was a sure recipe for a migraine. And her available medical staff was highly prejudiced against anything that caused her further stress.
Even as she thought it, a cold stethoscope poked her in the elbow. "You're frownin' again," Lian Harper informed her seriously.
"I am," Babs replied, just as solemnly. "What's your prescription, Dr. Harper?" Lian had found the spare stethoscope and a pair of Babs' old glasses – to make her look smarter, she declared – and instantly decided she was a doctor today. A world-renowned specialist, even, with degrees in neurology and psychology and Bat-ology. Babs had told her that last would be chiropterology, most likely, and Lian had thrilled to the complicated word.
Lian frowned, toying with the stethoscope for a moment. "In the Middle Ages they did bloodletting," she said. "I saw it on History Channel."
"I'm gonna have to call religious exemption on that," Babs replied, smiling. "Besides, we don't have any leeches."
"But you've got knives," Lian pointed out.
Making a mental note to inventory the kitchen before she left, Babs shook her head. "No bloodletting. We need an alternate course of therapy, Doctor."
Lian's eyes brightened, and she scampered out, calling, "Herbal medicine!"
"Helena's going to kill me if she chops down all the windowsill oregano," Babs sighed. "Easy on the plants, Lian!"
"But you need to get better!" Lian called back, dragging a chair across the kitchen floor by the sound.
"Start with a small dosage," Babs said, and wondered if she was old enough to be left alone with scissors. Probably not, so she wheeled away from the computer to go supervise the production of Dr. Harper's Miracle Sad-Face Cure.
It did occur to her that part of her headache was from staring at the screens, and pulling her away from them both physically and mentally probably was the best prescription for her stress.
…
Jay woke up tired and sore, lying in bed for a while and taking inventory of what hurt. That wasn't unusual. He'd patrolled last night, and though the details were hazy, it was like any other patrol. He gave out more punishment than he took, but the city was still unsettled and every night was tough.
Right now, Jay was roaming the streets with Tim. Roy was running around with the Birds, and Dick was taking Donna around just to rattle some of the bad guys. Jay managed a laugh at that. The poor bastards never expected Troia to roll up on them. Meanwhile Bruce was off mostly doing surveillance, trying to locate Joker – or Harley and Ivy. If he found them, he figured he'd find Joker soon after.
Selina was staying in, and she'd already gotten antsy after a couple of days. Jay'd been shocked to find her playing fetch down the length of the second-floor hallway with three of her cats. He hadn't even known cats could learn fetch.
God, he missed Kala. Tim was quick, precise, and talented, but Jay had gotten used to someone who didn't side-eye his crazier ideas. And the powers were nice, too.
He yawned and stretched, and heard a complaining mrrr. "Goddammit, Norway," Jay sighed, and picked up the little furball who'd gotten in again and slept on his chest. He held her up over his face, her legs dangling and her big green eyes blinking. "You're not my cat. I don't need a cat. I don't even like cats. And you shouldn't be in here."
She yawned, showing him a pink mouth full of brilliantly white teeth, and then stretched herself. One small fuzzy paw gently batted his nose.
Jay sighed. "It'd serve you right if I just ate you in three bites. Om nom nom."
"Maow," she complained, but didn't struggle. She had claws, he'd seen her run nimbly up the patterned wallpaper much to Alfred's horror, but she'd never struck out at him.
Then again, Alfred was close to a nervous breakdown by now. The other day he'd gone to polish a suit of armor, and the moment he touched the visor, it shrieked at him in a demonic voice. Well, it sounded demonic; as it turned out, the tabby Bolt had gotten inside, and the sound of her kittenish yowl amplified by the steel armor was a thing of nightmares. She'd leapt out of the visor and across Alfred's shoulder, leaving him to exclaim "My word!" in tones almost identical to Jay's most distressed "Jesus fuck!"
That was after the black cat Lydia had jumped out of the bookcase as Alfred reshelved books, knocking a dozen of them to the floor and startling the butler as well. It hadn't helped when they were all in the living room, enjoying some hot cocoa, and Bruce froze, staring at one of the cats. "Selina, that is a serval," he said disapprovingly.
"Savannah cat," Selina corrected, as the animal approached her. Jay had looked more closely at it, and it was weird looking, much leggier and overall bigger than a normal cat, with a longer head, enormous ears, and a short stumpy tail.
"Savannah cats are hybrids. That's a pure serval," Bruce said, frowning.
Tim had piped up with, "Don't you need a permit for those?"
"You do need a permit to own a serval," Selina replied. "And you need a badge to arrest criminals. You definitely need permits to climb buildings, or drive a souped-up not-street-legal car at speeds in excess of a hundred miles an hour through residential areas. Your point?"
"Dude, you brought a damn wild animal over?" Jay had said, eyeing the cat.
Selina had held her hand out, and it hopped up into her chair, butting its head against her hand. "Franklin is a registered Savannah cat. He's an F1 hybrid, or more technically, a backcross, since he's three-quarters serval and one-quarter domestic cat. His mother was a registered Savannah and his father was a serval. He was sold as a pet to a very wealthy woman who wanted an exotic cat to show off, but who didn't know they need special diets and lots of training and interaction to stay healthy. That didn't work out very well for her, did it, Frankie boy?" Selina had scratched down his spine, the big spotted cat stamping his front feet and chattering his teeth.
Jay had just shaken his head. Of course Selina had stolen the damn thing. And of course it was now roaming around Wayne Manor, jumping to the top of doors and nine-foot-tall cabinets in a single leap, and playing in the sink since apparently servals liked water. At least it wasn't a leopard.
Norway patted Jay's face again, recalling him to the present, and he put her down, feeling her rumbling purr echo through his chest. "You guys are definitely putting a twist on the Christmas spirit this year."
It dawned on him then: this was Christmas morning.
Alfred was making them all a special breakfast, Babs and the Birds were coming over to open presents, and despite how weird it all was Jay found himself looking forward to the chaos.
Most importantly of all, Kala would be here tonight.
