Title: "Ice Storm"
Author: Calico calico321@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Summary: Set during the 'Broken' timeline; an early-year snowfall provides an idyllic family afternoon, but darker days are ahead.
Disclaimer: DC Comics and the WB own the rights to Batman. Duh.
Note: This was inspired while I was writing 'The One Left Behind', but it is NOT a sequel to that story, nor is it necessary to have read it. This is strictly some leftover stuff that fits in with the original.
2033
The first snowfall of the year hit Gotham with a gusto usually saved for mid-winter storms and left the sprawling metropolis looking clean and fresh, if only for a short while.
Outside the city limits, large estates became great expanses of urban tundra and on one particular estate set high above the others, a magical wonderland awaited five-year-old Isabella Wayne as she looked out the window upon awaking on a bright Saturday morning.
She shrieked with glee at the mounds of fluffy snow and ran to promptly notify her parents of the overnight transformation from drab fall to dazzling winter. After lunch, and once properly attired in snowsuit, boots, mittens, hat, and muffler, she was allowed to venture outside to bask in the splendid whiteness of it all. Immediately she found a perfect patch of snow and fell to her back, scissoring her little legs from side to side and sliding her arms up and down.
"Mommy!" she cried out happily. "Come make a snow angel with me!"
Mardi picked her way over and plopped down beside her perfect offspring. "I'll try honey, but you're the only angel around here."
Isabella giggled, then looked up at her father. "Daddy, come on! Your turn!"
"I'm afraid I'm a little under qualified to make angels. Maybe you'd like to help me make a snow man instead?" he asked with a playful grin that was reserved for his only child.
"Alright!" Isabella agreed excitedly, leaping to her feet. "And I get to name him," she declared as she began the task of collecting snow for the base.
"Oh?" Mardi asked as she stood up and tried to brush herself off. "Did you have something in mind?"
"Yep. Mortimer."
Mardi and Bruce exchanged amused glances. "Mortimer the Snowman?"
"Yep. We can call him Morty for short," she replied with all due seriousness, her attention never diverted from the job at hand.
Unfortunately for Mortimer, his existence was never fully realized. The battle started innocently enough – Mardi was packing snow together in her hands with the full intent of adding it to Morty's torso, but she caught sight of the back of her husband's head, so tantalizingly vulnerable, the perfect target actually…
The snowball flew through the air and struck with a wet thwap! sticking for a second before starting its downwards slide.
Isabella gaped, her green eyes wide with amazed amusement. He stood up slowly and turned around even more slowly and Mardi could hardly contain the huge grin that threatened to overtake her whole face. She raised her now-empty hands. "Honest mistake."
"Mistake?" he repeated, face devoid of any telltale signs of emotion, but his own hands held a rather large clump of snow. "I think that there have been entire wars fought that were started by nothing more than an honest mistake." And now she really was laughing as he carefully formed the snow into an icy missile. He looked down at Isabella. "I think your mother needs a lesson in diplomatic relations. Care to join me?"
The little girl squealed with delight and reached down to scoop up a small handful of her own. Mardi, realizing she was grossly outnumbered, fled towards a large elm tree, but not before a well-aimed ball nailed her in the back. She yelped in surprise at the force of the direct hit, diving for cover as the onslaught began in earnest, and gathering her own pile of ammunition.
But her stronghold did not last long as the two guerilla warriors divided to assail her from different directions, pelting her mercilessly. Finally she called upon her secret weapon. "Bella you little traitor!" she laughed and gulped for air. "I'm your mother! Besides don't you know girls have to stick together?"
The words had the desired effect, as Isabella paused her offensive, and then with a huge grin started aiming at her father. Mardi cheered at the turn of the tide and pushed in as well. But the allegiance was fleeting and soon it was every Wayne for themselves, balls flying in all directions.
Finally out of breath and nearly exhausted, Mardi signaled surrender by dropping to the ground, legs and arms akimbo. She was half-buried before they agreed to the cease-fire.
"Mommy!" Isabella called out cheerfully performed a belly flop right on top of the prone figure.
"Oof!" Mardi gasped. "Is this how you treat your POWs around here? I'm sure this is a violation of the Geneva Convention."
Isabella laughed as she rolled away and Bruce came over, offering her a hand up, which she gratefully accepted. "Learned your lesson?"
"Yes," she replied breathlessly. "Cheat!" In her other hand was a wad of snow and she swung it at his head with all her might, but he had anticipated her deception and moved out of the way. As the momentum pulled her around to face the other direction he grabbed her from behind, pinioning her arms, and pulled her against his body. "Blast it!" she exclaimed. "I almost had you."
"No. You didn't," he calmly informed her as his strong arms kept her in place in a way she didn't mind at all. Then his voice dropped and he said, "You are soaking wet. I think you need to get out of those clothes before you catch pneumonia."
"Oh?" she said as he placed his warm lips against her cold ear. "Oh!" She smiled. "Nap time Bella!"
"No," she grumbled. "We didn't get to play King of the Mountain."
"I'm sure the snow will still be here tomorrow. Let's go."
"But I'm not tired Mom-"
"Isabella, don't argue with your mother," Bruce warned sternly before hoisting her up and settling her on his shoulders.
"Giddy up Daddy!" she called out as they trekked up to the manor.
Inside he set her down and turned to Mardi. "I'll get her some cocoa and put her to bed. I'll see you in a few minutes." Nothing about his words or demeanor gave anything away, but she still she felt a tingle of anticipation.
Upstairs she peeled of her soaked clothes and slipped on a thick cotton robe, using a towel to dry her hair. Finally Bruce came in and stripped down to the waist, taking the towel from her and patting himself down. "I think she'll sleep for a while. She was out like a light once her head hit the pillow," he informed her.
"That's good," Mardi replied watching his every movement raptly, marveling at the still perfect physique and self-assured manner in which he used it. She had never lost that initial, mind-numbing desire for him, nor did she ever try to conceal it.
He stepped over to her, releasing the robe's belt and letting it fall open. His hands began to touch and explore and caress. "I do believe you are suffering from a severe case of hypothermia," he declared.
"Really? What do you recommend for that?"
"Prolonged, direct, skin-to-skin contact."
"Mmm, that sounds like just what the doctor ordered." And he spent over an hour following his own advice, warming every inch of her body.