Authors' Note: We are not the originators of the amusing twist in the Capespotting discussion, here - it's been around the internet for a while. Given how we've used Capespotting in this fic, we couldn't pass it up.
We are able to post earlier because of COVID-19. Coauthor Lois normally works on Sundays, but she's been furloughed since March 28th. Without pay, and that's been lots of fun. We're getting by but we have to be careful, and we're grateful that we're able to pay bills. It is incredibly stressful for someone with Lois' work ethic to not be able to bring home the bacon; she's been stress-cleaning, and we're going to paint the bathroom this week. XD Coauthor Anissa is working alternating shifts - two weeks on, at half-staff and acting as the supervisor, then two weeks off. So far we've been getting a LOT of writing done on the weeks she's off, and almost none when she's on. Even when the job is not physically demanding (looking at you, 15 pallets of fucking computer monitors that weigh over a thousand pounds per pallet and have to be dragged/pushed uphill, I don't even want to see a monitor box again until 2021), it's mentally demanding. I stepped down from a supervisory role four years ago, for a good reason. I can't handle the stress. Unfortunately I've been too good at it and my manager is now hinting at making me the team lead for this site...
Enjoy the story, and stay safe and healthy, all of you. We are all in this together. The hit counts and reviews give us life!
Once things settled down, Selina sat down at the kitchen table for a cup of coffee, still looking a little guilty. Miss Kitty finally made up to her, climbing onto her shoulders and purring loudly. Jay got himself and Kala a cup of coffee each from Alfred, and settled in to drink it, seeing as how he'd missed any chance at caffeine earlier thanks to the abrupt wake-up call. Pretty much everyone else was doing the same thing while Alfred made breakfast, with assistance from Dick and Donna. It made for quite a crowd at the smaller kitchen table, but no one minded the close quarters at a time like this.
"I'll be a good girl and stay inside until this is over," Selina said, turning her mug back and forth in her hands. "I can't … you're sure the cat was already dead, he didn't kill it?"
"The veterinarian said it had been dead for about a day before it was moved. It didn't suffer," Bruce said gently, rubbing a hand over his stubble. "You're not on house arrest. I just … if I don't know where you are, I can't protect you."
Jay spoke up then. "Speaking of which, Selina, you wanna apologize for using me as exhibit A there? Because to be honest, it's a little too on the nose. I did the same shit you did, after all, only you got lucky. I snuck out of the house, went looking for my bio mom, and got caught by Joker."
She winced at that. "Okay, you're right, that was way too far. Sorry, Jay. It's been an emotional morning. And – Bruce, I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have smacked you in the face with that."
Bruce had sat down across from her, and he reached out to take her hand. "Contrite is a very odd look on you, Selina. I … understand. And I apologize for shouting at you."
"Call Guinness, the man admits he was wrong," Selina said wanly. "The thing is, Bruce, as good as the security is here, you know this place is gonna be targeted eventually."
"That's why we're all here," Dick said staunchly, looking up from the eggs he was scrambling.
"Bats and Birds and a couple of special guests, we make a pretty good security detail," Dinah added.
"That'd be the perfect Christmas gift," Jay said with a bright cold grin. "Let that asshole show up and get curb-stomped by all of us, plus a couple metas." Kala caught his eye, and he saw the steel beneath her softness in that look. Oh yeah, if Joker showed up here, he'd leave in a body bag … assuming Kala left enough of him to bury.
"Why are you so sure Joker would come here?" Roy asked. Lian had been watching the conversation – Jay felt a little guilty for calling Joker an asshole in front of the kid – but as Alfred slid a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon in front of her, she tuned them all out.
Selina shrugged. "Joker's not stupid. If he's been by my place and seen that all my cats are gone, then he's going to figure out sooner or later that this is the only place I could've come to hide. Unfortunately, most of the rogues know my real name, and know I'm dating Bruce under my civilian guise. There are very few places I could take thirty-some cats, and this is the most secure of all of them."
"Okay, humor me for a minute," Roy said, leaning forward. "How does everyone in town not know that Bruce is Batman? I mean, Batman and Catwoman are a major thing, and you just happen to be dating Bruce Wayne, too?"
Selina smiled graciously at him, and Jay knew an epic bit of trolling was about to happen, but not even he was prepared to hear Selina say, "Well, mostly because everyone knows I'm not just sleeping with Batman and Bruce. You see, I'm what is technically known as a slut, Mr. Harper."
Jay couldn't stifle a bark of laughter, Roy's jaw dropped, Dinah started choking on her coffee and had to be slapped on the back by Helena, Dick burst out laughing, Donna looked scandalized, Kala hissed Selina's name in horrified tones, and Bruce just cradled his face in his palm despairingly. Lian didn't even look up; Jay and Kala both glanced at her, and he grinned at his girl when he realized they were the only two who checked on the kid. Hell, Lian had probably heard worse.
Babs seemed the least shocked. "I don't think that's entirely warranted, given this company," she pointed out. "None of us are exactly pure as the driven snow."
"Well, no, but I'm a big believer in not letting anyone shame me," Selina replied with a shrug. "The correct term is polyamorous, but more importantly, Roy, most people in town think I actually care about Batman and I'm just using Bruce for his bankroll. I've made a point of giving that impression to keep them off-track. The same way I drop hints about, oh, Nightwing wearing a wig and actually being blond. Or about Blur being an incognito Amazon. It's all misdirection." She smirked proudly at Kala over that one. Meanwhile it was Donna's turn to almost spit out the coffee she'd been sipping while she brewed up another pot.
"So that's what you told Cobblepot," Jay mused.
Kala perked up then, shaking her head in amused disbelief as Donna stared incredulously. "You told Penguin I'm a Wonder? And he bought it?" she asked. Thankfully she didn't look horrified by the assumption, considering the recently relaxed issues between she and Donna.
Selina held her hands up. "He knew you broke Ivy's control, he'd heard about you crashing the roof in about the kids, he already knew you had more than speed. I made it clear that Batman didn't tell me what you are – it's even true, your last name did that, I've met your parents – but he kept pushing. So I told Oswald to be careful, that I didn't know what you'd do to protect someone you cared about, and that you carried yourself like an Amazon. I had to throw him off, if he figures out you're a Super the black market will be flooded with kryptonite. Saying you're a rogue Amazon will account for most of the powers, and keep you mostly safe."
Kala nodded, thoughtful, and Jay figured she understood it. "Thank you, Selina. And – I'm sorry, Donna. I mean, there really are more of you than us. It would make it a little easier to hide, if you and Diana don't mind the rumor lingering. At least I've done some training on Themyscira?" The look she shot the actual Amazon in the room was still a little amused, but also sheepish, shrugging apologetically.
Donna just shrugged. "It's not a problem – and Artemis would be delighted to claim you, anyway. I didn't know I was lending weight to the rumors when I showed up. We'd better let someone take a photo of us together, now, before anyone gets the bright idea to think we're really the same person."
While Kala tried not to wheeze at that, Jay just laughed. "Nah, the Blur plays a whole lot meaner than Troia. Although who knows, the conspiracy theories over who's who on Capespotting are hilarious. Didja know there's one guy who's actually right about Bruce, and no one believes him?"
Babs growled at that. "Yes, and he's the bane of my existence. I have ten years' worth of documented travel by this one actor that could plausibly be in the same place as most out-of-town Batman sightings, just in case we ever need some misdirection of our own, and this delusional basement-dweller shows up with his horrible MS Paint diagrams and hijacks my entire thread. They're making memes about him now. He doesn't even debate, he just goes on capslock rants with more terrible grainy photos."
Selina leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. "Wait a minute, you're on Capespotting?"
"I have four accounts, with VPN so no one realizes they're the same. One's just for surveillance, the other three I use to insert information when I need it – one of those is a deputy moderator on the Gotham City forum," Babs said, with a hint of pride.
Jay couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Selina, you're on there too?"
She gave him a cheeky grin. "MeowMix92. I run the Catwoman fan page."
"You run your own fan page?" Dick exclaimed.
"Like you wouldn't," Selina shot back.
"I would, but one of the site founders has that locked down," he retorted. "I could do without the hearts and flowers photoshopped into every picture of me."
"Wait, wait," Donna said. "Is this that website that tracks heroes' appearances?"
"It has articles and polls and fanfiction, too," Jay said. "Don't ever read your own fanfic, Donna. You'll hate it."
"I have never seen the site, and now I really don't want to," she replied.
Kala, meanwhile, was looking at Dick. "How many of you actually have accounts on Capespotting?"
Jay, who'd made an account to get alerts about himself, raised his hand. So did Selina, obviously, and Babs, and Dick. Kala didn't, neither did Donna or Helena, but Dinah raised hers, so did Tim, and then so did Roy.
The big shock was Bruce, however, and they all stared at him. "Seriously?" Selina asked, laughing.
Bruce just looked at Babs. "I didn't realize that you were Dozier359. How did you choose your username?"
"Threw a dart at a telephone book for a name, and hit a calculator without looking for the number," she replied automatically, then her eyes widened. "Wait – no. No, no, no. Bruce, you have got to be kidding me!"
"What?" Jay asked, still reeling from the idea that Bruce was even on the site. It made sense to monitor it, but Babs had that handled. Well, Bruce never minded double-checking someone's work. Still, he'd actually created an account?
"You're BruceWayneIsBatman?!" Babs exclaimed. "Somehow in between fighting crime and hovering over all of us like a broody hen, you have time to make those awful MS Paint diagrams and post them on the site? With all the misspellings and the grammar of a slightly deranged middle-schooler?!"
He nodded solemnly. "I have a software program for the wording, so it's consistent."
"You have a software program to make you sound like an idiot," Babs said, leaning back in her chair with disbelieving eyes.
Jay couldn't believe it either. The only person on Capespotting who'd gotten someone's secret identity right, and Jay had freaked out at first when he saw the username. One glance at the account's posts, however – with repeated warnings from the mods that the site was not the place to discuss chemtrails or Flat Earth theory – and he'd dismissed it the pet project of a whacked-out conspiracy theorist.
Those diagrams Babs was ranting about, too, they were so painfully childish. Low-quality photos of both Bruce Wayne and Batman, with wavering neon lines drawn to emphasize the shape of a chin or the line of a shoulder, and always in such bad lighting or different angles as to make it plain that the person posting was hallucinating any resemblance. The Capespotting community as a whole treated that account like a dementia-addled uncle at a family reunion. Jay remembered the memes, too. Thanks to a post that was now two years old, comparing photos of Bruce and Batman shot from the back, people on the site were still saying, 'Do the butts match?' to indicate that they thought a particular statement was way out of left field.
And all along, that had been Bruce himself. The man who claimed to have no sense of humor, had been playing an elaborate joke the whole time.
Kala was staring at him, too, and finally said, "Babs, I think you have to give up the Original Troll title. This is … this is way over the top."
"Agreed. This beats anything I've ever done," Babs said. "Good God, Bruce. I wrote a nine hundred word post debunking your theory, and your comeback was to call me a Russian bot!"
Bruce only shrugged. "It's misdirection. Capespotting has a high chance of uncovering one of our identities, since it has so much unfiltered information and so many users. We know that many of our rogues follow it. Now, no one will ever take the suggestion that I might be Batman seriously."
"You really are a genius," Selina said admiringly. "A twisted genius, but a genius nonetheless. I don't know whether to be awed or terrified."
"Thank you," Bruce said.
She smirked at him, and added, "Also, I want to state for the record that you follow my fan page and post things like, 'Catwoman can rob me any time'. Very smooth, sir."
"This from the woman whose username is Meow Mix?" Babs said dryly.
Throughout the conversation, Alfred had been bringing in everyone's breakfast. Dick and Donna had just finally sat down before the revelation of Bruce's trolling, and now Alfred refilled coffee for them all. He filled the last cup, looked at them all, and allowed himself a smile. "He does blend in with most of your male fans, Miss Selina, except in being less pointed in his remarks."
"Oh come on," Babs said. "You, too?"
Alfred actually grinned. "Haymans1643, after my favorite gin. I tend to correct Master Bruce's spelling."
All of them laughed at that, and it was welcome, relieved laughter.
…
Joker had left someone on surveillance, and the news that Batman had found his message and removed it wasn't entirely welcome. Oh, Batsy would tell his little kitty about it, but he was missing out on the visceral impact of Selina seeing one of her darlings so cruelly displayed.
He vented his displeasure on the messenger, and after the body had been carted out, Joker sat brooding and tossing a knife from hand to hand.
One of them should have come out by now. Either the veggie, the zombie, or the cat. Someone should've taken the bait. He had knives and pliers and a reciprocating saw and cameras and microphones ready, plus a powerful transmitter to swamp out the local TV channel's signal so he could broadcast his own little game show. Kids still played that gruesome game 'hangman', and he planned to do it in reverse, removing a finger or a toe or a tooth for each wrong answer.
Of course, he wouldn't be asking his co-hosts to guess a word. Nothing so simple as that, even if the word was 'syzygy' or 'quire' or 'ulotrichous'. The only question Joker planned to ask was, 'Where is Harley Quinn?' And all of their answers would probably be wrong. Even if they were right, he planned to keep asking until Harley showed up to stop it, or the Bat cut off the broadcast.
He figured Harley would just change the channel, if he got hold of Dead Hood, but that one was its own victory. Despite the recent softening of his murderous principles – what a shame, to see a man's edge blunted by the feminine influence in his life – Zombie-Bird was still widely feared in Gotham. Watching him taken apart on live television by the same person who'd killed him the first time would be exactly the ratings boost Joker needed. Besides, chopping off bits of him might hasten another meeting with the new girl, whom Joker was dying to investigate. Preferably with scalpels. He had some theories about that one, and he'd just love to find out how right he was.
Poison Ivy or Catwoman, now, Harley would come running to save her friends from torture. And then Joker could make her watch them die for her sins, before meting out her own punishment. He'd been studying a lot of esoteric subjects lately, and his plans for his wayward girl were carefully crafted.
Either way, it would be a win – if they came to him. And so far, no one had.
Joker sighed, and caught the knife, driving it into the arm of his chair. He'd just have to up the ante a little more, that was all. Harley couldn't hide forever.
…
Still reeling from the revelation that Uncle Bruce was on Capespotting, Kala headed upstairs with Jay. She'd sent most of her gifts ahead to the Manor, so they could be opened Christmas Day, just as most of the family's gifts had been sent to the Kent farmhouse. She'd kept Jay's aside, however, wanting to give them to him in person, and he had done the same for her.
On their way up, however, they got sidetracked by tiny little Norway, sitting at the foot of the Christmas tree and whining as she stared into its branches. "Aww, sweetheart, what's the matter?" Kala asked.
"If she answers you, I'm gone," Jay laughed.
Norway looked over her shoulder at them, gave a strident mew, and then stared back at the tree. Kala walked toward it, wondering at first if there was a mouse or a squirrel hiding somewhere in it. Her own family had accidentally brought a squirrel inside once…
The moment she approached, she heard a loud 'waow' from somewhere high in the branches. "Oh no," Kala said, looking up, and finally picked out the terrified black and white face peering out at them. From twenty-five feet up. "You poor thing, how did you get up there? Are you stuck?"
Her answer was another miserable-sounding cry, and Kala sighed, letting herself float up toward the cat. "Calm down, I'll get you out," she soothed. Drawing level with the branch, she saw a large tuxedo cat clinging to the bark, frightened jade green eyes peering out at her. "Poor thing. It's okay."
When she reached toward the cat, though, it gave a growling screech, hunkering down to the branch and flattening its ears. Kala drew her hand back, startled, and the cat made a mumbling meow, licking its nose fearfully. "I'm trying to help you!"
"Jesus fuck, is that cat possessed?" Jay asked below her.
Selina had followed them, probably hearing the cat, and called up, "That's Freyja, also known as Fraidy, for obvious reasons. She won't actually bite or scratch you, Kala, she just talks a big game."
"I hope not. I don't want her breaking her teeth," Kala said, and reached for the cat again. Freyja whined, growled, hissed, and finally gave a damp-sounding squeak when Kala grabbed her scruff and pulled her out, but true to Selina's word, she never actually tried to attack. Instead she huddled close and buried her face in Kala's shirt as they floated back down to the ground. "Aww, you poor sad thing," Kala murmured, pressing her cheek close comfortingly as they landed. "That was quite a height for a scaredy-cat."
Selina held her hands out for the cat, explaining, "She's the most timid cat I've ever met. Bolt is shy, but she'll stand up to the others. Fraidy there got her ass kicked by a six-month-old kitten, and she weighs about eighteen pounds or so."
Norway climbed Selina's clothes, meowing, and Freyja lifted her head up as Kala handed her over. The tiny black cat sniffed noses with the much larger black and white, and then purred, grooming Freyja's face. "They're so sweet," Kala said.
Selina shrugged the shoulder that didn't have a cat balancing on it. "Norway is the only one who can get close to Freyja. I don't know if it's a Norse theme thing, or if Norway's just the most persistently social cat in town. Whenever Norway's not with her sisters, she's with Fraidy. They're pretty closely bonded."
"Which explains why tiny-whiny there was yelling for someone to rescue the big scaredy-cat," Jay said. "Do you have any normal cats, Selina, or are they all weird?"
"There's no such thing as a normal cat," Selina said, still petting Freyja, who had started purring. "Some of them are weirder than others, though. All of them are characters."
Jay nodded, and a silence fell among them, Selina's eyes going cold. Kala couldn't help thinking of the cat Joker had found dead and tacked up to Selina's door as a message; her own icy wrath woke in answer to that, and Selina and Jay must've both been thinking of it, too.
"You should know," Jay said quietly. "If I cross paths with Joker again, he's not walking away."
Selina tipped her head sideways, curious. "That's not what you said at Thanksgiving."
Jay shrugged. "I said I wouldn't go kill him in the hospital, mostly because everyone would know it was me. I don't need that kinda heat. And besides, shooting an unarmed comatose patient handcuffed to a hospital bed isn't exactly my style. I'm still not looking for him to kill him. But if he shows up in my sights? He's crossed too many lines, lately. He needs to be put down before he gets hold of one of us, or Harley."
Shivering, Selina said, "Harley will be gone, tomorrow morning. After that we don't have to worry about her. Jokes has never been one to leave Gotham if he can help it, and Pam's smart enough not to leave tracks. If she goes and holes up on a tropical island somewhere like I think she will, and he does find them, well, Nature is a mother, right? Pam will feed him to the Green and never blink doing it."
Shaking his head, Jay said, "You've got funny taste in friends, Selina."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "So do you, Mr. Hood. So do you. Speaking of your friends – Kala, thank you for getting the big chicken here out of the tree."
"You're welcome. For these guys, it's never a problem." Kala reached out and scratched Norway's head lightly. "I've always been a sucker for animals in trouble. It runs in the family."
"That explains a lot," Selina said archly, glancing at Jay, and then strolled out with her cats, leaving the pair of them to continue upstairs.
Once they closed the door, Kala went to her bag and took out three wrapped parcels. "I hope you like what I got you," she said, looking up at Jay.
He grinned, opening his dresser and taking out four boxes. "I liked the one I got this morning well enough. Hell, I hope you like yours."
She smirked a little, and teased, her voice husky, "For the record, I would no problems with a little more of you indulging me a little more like that, too. I could do with some spoiling right now. Even if you wrapped that particular present in front of me. I'm a sucker for surprises, too, but sometimes it's good to know just how decadent the treat is."
"Look at you, being filthy," Jay laughed, his pale blue eyes alight. "Glad you appreciated the ribbed-for-her-pleasure wrapping. Here, open this one first."
Kala rolled her eyes and caught the box he tossed her way. "Neanderthal. Why do I bother?" she muttered, sitting on the edge of his bed and tearing into the wrapping.
"You're the only person I know who pronounces that correctly, by the way," Jay said, watching her avidly.
"Journalist parents. Gotta get your sources correct," Kala replied. The last of the wrapping gave way, revealing a white box with a fancy-script name she didn't recognize. Opening the wrapping let the scent of fine chocolate waft up to her nose.
Jay hadn't gotten her any old assortment of chocolates, however. Neatly packaged inside was a chocolate record, with 'KLK's Greatest Hits' on the label. There was also a chocolate cassette tape that read, 'Red & Black Mix'. Kala laughed in sheer delight, beaming at him. "That is awesome! I didn't even know they made chocolates like this!"
"There's a couple chocolatiers who do, and this lady makes records that will actually play," Jay told her. "Problem with that is they have to get the rights to whatever music you wanna use, and they don't have any of your songs licensed. So I had to buy the rights, too."
That had her staring at him in disbelief. He had done what? "Jay, you didn't have to do that," Kala fretted, honestly floored. Getting the rights to reproduce even one song wouldn't have been cheap.
He only smiled. "It's worth it. If you put that on a turntable, you can get about ten plays out of it before the needles wears out the grooves. I went for your first single, Whisper. Obviously the cassette doesn't play, it's just decorative."
"I had no idea that was possible. You, sir, are brilliant," Kala told him, still smiling. She looked at his three gifts, and chose one to hand him.
Jay tore into it, although he surely guessed from the shape and weight that it was a book. He still didn't know exactly what it was until he exposed the cover and read the title. "Bleak House? Oh damn, this is the first edition cover, too! Hell yeah, K, I love this one – and I don't have a first of it! It's got the plates and the chapbook covers and everything!"
The praise over that one warmed her to her toes. Getting him books didn't seem to be a worrisome gift until one had to consider which exact volumes to pick out; she'd been looking for over a month on and off, hemming and hawing over which ones, which topics, which eras, would suit. Considering the bookcase and the shelf in the closet at the apartment when he wasn't looking had helped, too. Dickens had seemed to be logical leap from his favorites. "I know. I enlisted Alfred for a location on that one," Kala said with a relieved smile. Watching him geek out was wonderful. "I owe him a proper London order of fish and chips, by the way. I'm the only person who can fly it back fast enough to still be hot. I want to work in a traditional tea at some point, too."
"Don't welsh on it, or he'll get you," Jay laughed. He looked at her three remaining gifts, one roughly square, two flat, and handed her one of the flat ones. "You'll notice a theme."
She raised an eyebrow, and opened the package to find a beautifully-framed art print of a microphone, imprinted on a dictionary page. She wouldn't tell him, but she had been collecting several of the type already, with her favorite birds in fanciful accessories and famous fantasy characters. It would be a perfect addition to the collection in the living room space. "Ohhh, I love these! It's perfect, Robin," she exclaimed, tracing a finger down the frame. "Really, I love it."
"Glad you like it," Jay said, smiling.
"I am seeing the theme, though, and it's honestly wonderful. You'd be surprised how many people don't buy me music-related stuff," Kala told him. "Not even my parents. I think, with them, it's because Mom's still mad about the karaoke machine my father bought me when I was seven." Kala quirked her brow up humorously.
"Well, turns out meerkats are illegal and pets are a horrible Christmas present anyway, so…" Jay teased.
Deciding to really mess with him, she gave him a sigh and an exaggerated pout. "If you were determined to gift me an animal, you could've just borrowed my bat from the zoo for a while. There would have been no complaints from me; I would have found a way to take Josephine on tour for a while. She could have been our mascot; she'd be perfect. We'd have found her some awesome hand-crafted batty underwear for the tour bus, I could have easily gotten her the fresh tropical fruit she needs, and I would have taken her home after some quality time. I would have worked it out. I'm pretty well-versed on the upkeep of bats these days, I think." Her eyes shined with utter deviltry at that.
"Nah, I'm leaving that for Dickie-Bird," Jay laughed. "And you're a specialist in the Hood variety of bats; most of the rest couldn't handle the same conditions I thrive in."
She chuckled at him, choosing the next gift. She had really taken a chance on this gift; hopefully his reaction would be the one she hoped for when she had seen it in the bookshop she followed Jase into a few weeks ago. It had been the one thing she'd locked onto, but second-guessed, only to go back for it a few days later. She'd known it was meant to be his. Moment of truth. Taking a deep breath, Kala pushed his other present toward him. "Go on, open this one. I hope you like it."
"Fine, pushy," Jay chuckled … but once he pulled the wrapping off, he paused at looked at her, delight warming his gaze. "Oliver Twist, huh? And it's a first edition, too – I never thought I'd get my hands on one of these. How the hell did you find it?"
"Little bookseller in Paris," Kala admitted with a sigh of relief, watching his expression. "Do you like it? I wasn't sure…"
"It's perfect," Jay assured her, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her lips. "Just like you. Hey, wait, did you pick this one out 'cause I'm always asking for more?"
Kala smiled softly, knowing the deflection for what it was. How could she not love him? "Not for that. The story… It seemed appropriate for you, Jay."
Jay kissed her again, and one more time. "Very few people know to buy me classic lit, K, so we're even. Although, your next gift probably a little less impressive than the first two. I shoulda swapped them around." He handed it to her with a shy grin.
"Oh, stop, you bought me a gift. That's what counts. And you got me more gifts than I got you," she scolded gently, tearing the paper.
"Nah, the lingerie from last night – well, this morning – counts," Jay laughed back.
Kala lifted out a square white box, and opened that to reveal a coffee mug. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary pale blue mug, but when she looked closer, the side had a legend in bold script: 'I sing mezzo, what's your superpower?'
That made her burst into happy laughter, and kiss him. "Didn't you just mock me last night for being a vocal geek? How'd you even find out my range?"
"Hey, I still don't know half those words. I saw those mugs for alto and bass, so I googled what your range is. I found it on a site called Diva Devotee. They have a whole breakdown – with more jargon I've never heard before – and clips of you singing a whole bunch of notes from various songs." Jay shrugged, looking thoroughly self-satisfied. "Had to get the mug custom-made, though. No one had it specifically mezzo-soprano, and the guy I bought it from said it'd make more sense to list it as mezzo than try to squeeze the whole thing on there."
The amount of research he had put into something so simple as a coffee mug had her staring at him in awe. That and the thought of having a write-up so in-depth on something called Diva Devotee was just a little terrifying. "Wow, you did your homework. Color me ever more impressed, Red. He's right, half the time I just tell singers I'm a mezzo, and they know what I mean. And that website? That sounds a little scary," Kala said with a laugh.
"It looks like they know what they're talking about," he replied with a shrug. "One more each, then – your last one doesn't fit the theme."
"Neither does mine," Kala said, and handed him the last box. This one had been a risk, and she bit her lip as he opened it. Jay slowed down, tilting his head curiously as he lifted a small round object from the box. Nervous, she couldn't help giving him all the details. "You said you wanted to be an astronaut as a kid. I figured, this will do until we can work out how to get you there. It's based on the most detailed images NASA has, and it runs on solar power and magnets so it rotates without any obvious power source. There were a couple options for the base, but you know I had to get the crystal one."
Jay held the model of the moon in the palm of his hand – a place he'd watched film of astronauts exploring, and one Kala had actually been – and the look in his ice-blue eyes was awe. "K … you're fucking amazing. This is so fuckin' cool. I was so hung up on space travel as a kid. And now I've got a girlfriend who literally gave me the moon."
"Don't forget, said girlfriend is half alien. That's gotta fit in with your spaceman dreams, too," Kala said, gently playful.
"Yeah, I'm no Captain Kirk, but I'm thrilled with my space babe," Jay laughed, and leaned in to kiss her. "Okay, open your last one, let's be nerds together."
He pushed the last box toward her, looking just as nervous as she was. "It's mostly a me thing, but it's got significance. And I figured you'd like it."
"Of course I'll like it," Kala said, tearing into the paper. A paper box was under it, and when she took off the lid, she saw a hardbound copy of Far From the Madding Crowd. Kala smiled slowly, remembering when she'd caught him reading it. "We were both thinking about that night in the library, huh? I remembered you saying you wanted to be an astronaut; you remembered me being interested in the book you were reading. I never did get around to pulling it off the shelf."
"Well, now you have your very own copy," Jay said. "That night was … something to remember. I think we both saw each other more clearly, after that conversation. Deserves a marker, y'know?"
"Yeah, I know," she told him.
He grinned then. "Besides, I gotta give you props. You listen, K. I … don't always feel like people really see me, or notice what I'm into. You always do."
"Thank you for letting me see you," Kala told him, her tone serious.
And then, when the moment was almost too intimate, Jay smirked at her and asked, "So, you like your Christmas presents?"
Kala's beaming smile said it all. He had taken her totally by surprise with his choices and she had been delighted with them all, even before that last echo of their early days. "I love them, Jay. You do good work."
"Hell yeah, so do you," Jay said, looking happier than Kala had ever seen him while conscious.
Despite all the hectic travel, extended family tripping over one another, the absence of her best friend still a hole in her heart, and the very real threat hovering over Gotham, it had been one of the best Christmases Kala could remember. She let herself bask in it, willing all the rest of the madness to hold off for a while. Carefully moving the presents aside, Kala slid into Jay's lap and rested her forehead against his, whispering, "Merry Christmas, Jay."
His arms around her waist were all the anchor she needed. "Merry Christmas, Kala," he told her, kissing the corner of her smile.
This, right here, was all the peace and contentment she craved.
…
The rhythm of life in the Manor was settling back into normal, in the lull week between Christmas and New Year's, and Dick was glad of it. He was going to miss having everyone around the house, though. The guests were headed home – Donna would be leaving tomorrow, Roy and Lian were staying two days more so they could go to the big Wayne charity gala. Babs and Dinah had gone back to the Clock Tower, and Helena had gone with them for a little extra security. Dick found himself a little amused by that; like himself, Helena had her own apartment, but she stayed with Babs and Dinah as often as he stayed at the Manor.
Of course, he got to keep Kala for another week and a half. Or he would, if she and Jay would ever come out of Jay's room. Dick walked up that hall in the middle of the afternoon, when everyone else was asleep, just to see if the two were still barricaded in. He found the cat Norway sitting patiently in front of Jay's door, and when Dick approached, she mewed at him and stood up on her hind legs, patting the door knob.
That was too damn cute to resist, so he loided the lock with his license and let her in – as Alfred and Selina both had, in previous days – then went on his way. At least it was quiet, the lovebirds were actually getting some sleep after finally exchanging their gifts.
He had half a mind to get on Capespotting and go troll Babs a little. Maybe start a public discussion about how Black Canary still rocked those fishnet stockings, and see if he could flush out Dinah herself in the middle of it. Commenting that Black Canary could put him in handcuffs if she wanted ought to get them both laughing.
Come to think of it, he didn't have a date to the gala. He'd asked Helena, but she'd turned him down gently. Dick chuckled a little, remembering her wry look as she'd told him, "I don't want my boss and your ex to think we're dating again." Given that they'd been in bed at the time, it was a fairly laughable concern.
He'd ask Donna, but she was planning to leave just before the event. Maybe he would yank Babs' chain a little, and ask Dinah.
Dick got himself settled, planning to sleep until shortly after dark and then get up for rounds. The sun went down early, this time of year. He pulled up a soothing video on his phone and drifted off to sleep.
And was awakened, what felt like no time later, by his phone and his comm both buzzing. Groaning, Dick answered the comm first. "This is Wing."
"Rise and shine, Nightwing, we've got a major fire in progress at Brentwood Academy," Babs' digitized voice said. "Given the spread and involvement, we're definitely looking at arson."
"Oh, merry Christmas to us," Dick grumbled. "I hate fires, O, I really do."
"I know. Let me raise the rest – if you don't see Hood in the hall, bang on his door for me," she told him.
"Will do. Let Arsenal and Troia sleep, okay? If this is only a fire, we've got enough personnel for now," Dick told her. That was more her call and Bruce's than his own, but Babs would take it as a suggestion, where Bruce would just give him a stony look. He was still mentally gearing up for this one.
By the time Dick got dressed and headed out, Kala and Jay were already in the hallway, Kala setting Norway down with a last scratch on the fluffy cat's head. "How the fuck does she keep getting in there?" Jay exclaimed, and Dick stifled a laugh, deciding not to tell Jay he'd let her in.
The updates over the comm sounded grim. Dick and Tim both hopped in the Batplane with Bruce. Jay and Kala also flew – which, Dick noticed that Jay had been flying with her a lot lately. So much for all his protests about what a terrifying pilot she was. Ironically, that only made Dick want to go flying more. If he could get her to do one of those free-falls she'd mentioned over the summer, that'd be amazing, almost like flying himself.
They hovered several blocks away, Bruce peering intently at the billowing smoke. Dick leaned forward in his seat, trying to see what his mentor saw. First he had to make himself process this, the school he had attended – Jay and Tim too – blazing away, all kinds of memories going up in smoke. It made him angry, and he had to fight past that.
Batman, of course, saw it differently. "The fire pattern is unnatural," he said into the comm.
Kala's voice spoke in Dick's ear. "You're right, it looks … not just like arson, like there were multiple points. I'm going higher for an aerial view."
"Jesus fuck," Jay muttered, and Dick smiled. Only you could fall in love with a flyer and freak out about heights, he thought, a welcome trace of amusement.
And then they heard Kala gasp over the comm. "Uh-oh. Be careful, everyone. If I'm seeing this right … the parts that are burning spell out 'J plus H'."
"It's Joker. Cover the firefighters – be wary, Joker has been known to disguise himself as a first responder," Bruce said gruffly, and swooped in. Dick's heart kicked up a notch, and he had to throttle down another surge of anger. Joker was making things personal, whether he knew it or not. The sense of urgency – always a factor, even in a normal fire – just got more intense.
The main reason they'd taken the Batplane instead of ground transportation was that it carried a load of expanding fire-suppressant foam. Two passes took care of most of it, and Bruce landed the plane on a nearby rooftop. Dick and Tim hopped out, automatically fanning out to monitor the firefighters and police on the scene. If Joker had done this – and the initials were a solid indication, few people would try to fake that – he was likely nearby.
"I don't see him," Jay growled over the comm.
"I don't hear him, either," Kala added, sounding just as angry.
"He's here somewhere," Bruce said grimly. "Hood, watch your back."
"I'm on that, Batman," Kala said, and Dick heard a steely note in her voice. Joker would have one hell of a time getting past her. She might be the newest member of the team, but Kala was damn useful, especially in situations like this.
They were all in motion, trying to spot Joker and keep watch over the firefighters tamping out the last vestiges of the blaze, when a whistling noise caught Dick's attention. He whirled around, and saw the roof on which they'd parked the Batplane suddenly light up with bright white fire.
"Sonofabitch!" Jay spat, and then he was standing next to Dick, staggering a little from an awkward landing. "K, don't, keep away from the plane!"
"I think I saw the angle of that RPG," Kala said over their comms, and none of them could see her in the dark, smoky sky.
"Blur, fall in," Bruce demanded.
"That vile little cockroach was close enough to fire on you," she said, still not landing. "He's somewhere nearby…"
"K, get your sweet ass down here or I swear to God I'll bench you," Jay thundered into his comm. "The last time you crossed him didn't go so well. Fall in, for fuck's sake!"
"If I could just … oh, shit! Look west!"
Jay looked like he was about to explode in even more profanity, but Kala landed beside him and Dick a second later, pointing to the western sky … where another fireball lit up the horizon, miles away.
Oracle was in their ears, asking about the new fire and getting an approximate location from Tim, and Bruce was summoning the Batmobile remotely. Dick looked back at the Batplane; probably salvageable, it was very well armored, but a direct strike from a rocket-propelled grenade loaded with something like thermite was doing a whole lot of damage.
"Hood, Blur," Bruce began, and gritted his teeth. What he was about to say clearly didn't sit well with him. "You're the fastest. Observe and report, do not engage."
"On it," she said, grabbing Jay, and Dick heard his strangled curse as the pair of them seemed to disappear.
"You really think she'll listen?" he asked Bruce, converging with him and Tim.
"She did come down when Hood ordered her to," Bruce said.
Dick frowned. Kala had come in when she'd seen the second fire. He was ready to call Donna and do some flying of his own, right about now, but the last thing he wanted to expose Donna to was the Clown himself.
In his brief hesitation, Kala had arrived at the new scene and started reporting. "It's a warehouse, and the burn pattern is different. This is burning from the outside in, like an accelerant was placed around the perimeter. No one's inside, and it doesn't seem to have a message."
"Hold position, we're on the way," Bruce replied.
Dick didn't quite dare to sigh in relief. Something was up tonight.
…
Selina had woken up when Bruce left the bed beside her; no matter how angry he was, or how injured, the man never turned down a chance to hold and be held for a little while. And as long as her arms were around him, she knew he was safe – he must've felt the same about her. He'd kissed her shoulder as he left, without explanation.
Remembering the previous evening, Selina didn't ask him to be careful. She just curled up around his pillow, breathing the scent of his cologne, and eventually Miss Kitty came to sit on her hip. "So you forgive me?" Selina murmured, and rubbed her ears.
After a while, the cat purred, and Selina began to doze off.
She woke again when her phone rang. It was Pam's number, and even as she answered, Selina felt her heart grow cold with fear. "What happened?" she asked, praying it wasn't what she guessed.
In the dark, Miss Kitty's eyes shone golden, and in her ear cool, calm, collected Poison Ivy sounded on the verge of a breakdown. "She's gone. I don't care anymore, Selina, get your Bat out there after her – at least if he has her he'll try to keep Joker from killing her."
Selina sat up, her heart racing. "How long has she been gone? Do you have any idea what she's up to?" They both knew confinement grated on Harley; it wouldn't be out of the question for her to sneak out to a corner store for an energy drink and a change of scenery. Maybe, maybe she was okay.
Pam laughed, a ragged miserable sound. "Not more than an hour, and something stupid, of course. She left a note on the door that says, 'If I'm not back by midnight, take care of the boys for me.' We're leaving at four!"
"She's going after Joker," Selina groaned. "Oh, no."
"Of course she is. It's those harlequin patterns around the city, she can't leave without one last 'fuck you' to him and a thumb's-up to her imitators. Goddess help me, Harley is the dumbest genius we know, Selina. She just had to go make a statement." Pam was probably pacing, Selina could hear the hyenas whining miserably in the background.
"She's also the luckiest person we know. Think of all the stuff she's gotten away with. I'll call in some help anyway," Selina told her.
Another bitter laugh. "Thank you. I can't believe she pulled this when we're so close. If she does make it back, I'm going to tranq her comatose and load her in a kennel like these damn hyenas."
"Pam, honey, if I get hold of her first, I'll help you," Selina promised.
And then paused, remembering why she was staying in these nights. She still hadn't seen the cat that Joker had nailed to her door, but in her mind's eye it was black, like so many of her favorites. Or striped like shy little Bolt, or patchwork calico like sly Precious, or white like timid Mouser. Her imagination had painted each of her darlings into that grisly scene, and it made Selina swing wildly between rage and terror.
She wanted to kill Joker, of course. A gun would do it; snapping her whip around his neck and hanging him would suffice, too, but it was slow enough to allow interference.
At the same time, she knew her own wrath for a weakness Joker could exploit. And if he caught her … she'd seen Harley's scars. That was just Joker being playful. If he really meant to kill someone who had offended him, it would be much, much worse.
Yet she would feel like a coward, staying safe in Wayne Manor while Harley was out there running around, making a target of herself.
Pam solved it for her. "No, you stay there. Just send up a Bat-signal or hang your bra out the window, however you summon him. I don't want you getting caught, too."
Selina laughed despairingly, hearing the frantic edge in her own voice. "God, Pam, I've got higher tech ways of reaching him. I just … I feel so useless, sitting here doing nothing. Like all I'm good for is sending out the Bat."
"You've done more for Harley than anyone could expect. Stay there, stay safe. I've got to go after her. I don't want you in the middle of it, too," Pam insisted.
"Please be careful," Selina told her, and they both hung up.
Selina gave a deep sigh, and called Oracle, knowing that was the fastest way to reach Bruce. "Hey, O, I need you to call the team," she said, as soon as Babs answered. "Harley's out there somewhere, doing something insane."
"Do you know where she is?" Babs asked levelly, without judgment.
"Not precisely. But I'm pretty sure she started out somewhere within walking distance of this address," Selina told her, and gave the location of the cafe.
Even if Batman ended up catching Ivy, too, that was better than Harley getting killed.