Title: One And Only: IX
Author: D C Luder
Summary: Set four years after the conclusion of Life Is Good. The Family moves on and… apart?
Rating: PG 13 for language
Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.
Author's Note: It is highly advisable that you read Time Will Tell and Life Is Good or you may be a tad bit lost. I am writing this due to the numerous requests for a sequel. That and I am absolutely obsessed with the concept of the Bat and Cat living happily ever after.
A/N 2: Thanks everyone for reading, I hope to be back on track with this one as long as Chris keeps me motivated :)
A/N 3: Happy Belated Non-denominational Gift Giving Season!
V
As I had for since the eighth grade, all of my shopping was completed by the eighteenth of December. Dad always said he would try and beat me and finish his shopping first some day, but I always expected his late night call on the twenty-fourth to go shopping with him. What I hadn't expected had been Selina's call on the twentieth, asking if I would like to join her and the family for some shopping and lunch.
Another surprise was that instead of touring the shops and boutiques on Fifth, we were going to the Carousel Mall. My reply had been, "Oh now I have to go. Bruce in a shopping mall the week before Christmas… I'll have to remember to bring my camera."
When we met up at the northwest entrance, they had been shopping for less than an hour and already they had at least fifteen bags from ten different stores. Mattie was absolutely delighted to see me, Bruce looked as if he was ready to lie down and die and Selina was doing her best to belay his suffering with a grin on her face. Mattie ran over to me and hugged me as Bruce and Selina slowly approached. Selina pulled back a loose strand of black hair and said, "Tell Barbara what you found for Dad."
The child giggled and whispered into my ear, "Suspenders."
I smiled as well, just picturing him wearing them, "Well that's a fun gift," I replied before glancing up at Bruce's scowling face.
He averted my eyes as he looked over at the Discovery Channel store, "Mattie, let's look at the telescopes."
She turned to him and put the pout on full force, "But Mom said we were going to Build A Bear…"
I had to smirk, not only at Bruce's facial response to his daughter's words, but at the fact that he was trying to compete with designing and dressing your own stuffed animal with a telescope. As intelligent and curious as Mattie was, there was a limit to what her interests could handle.
Selina leaned against Bruce's arm, "Mattie go with Dad, help him find something for Tim. We'll meet you at the Build A Bear after you get done there, okay?"
Mattie sighed and agreed quietly before taking her father's hand. We watched them step into the mass of shoppers and navigate their way to the store's entrance. Selina then lead us in the opposite direction to the stuffed animal haven after saying, "He's been a grouch and a half today. I know he hates the holidays but this has been ridiculous."
"How so?" I asked, my voice slightly elevated to over come the murmur of the crowd's footsteps and chatter.
She didn't answer until we reached the safety of the store's open door way, "He almost didn't even come."
Boldly, I asked, "Is he feeling all right?"
Selina shrugged and watched as a couple and their son selected an outfit for the newly stuffed teddy bear, "It's been three days since… I would think he would be fine, it's not like he had it nearly as bad as Tim or Cassie. I don't know, I think he's just being his Scroogey old self."
"Wouldn't be Christmas if he wasn't, Selina."
She smiled, "How very true."
We worked our way through the aisles of displayed bear apparel and accessories quietly. I came upon a navy blue police uniform and wondered if Dick would like it. He had called me the other night after coming home late from work and had asked me if I would mind helping him figure out his shopping. I told him to not worry about it and that I would take of it for him. As he tried to push money on me, I laughed and told him that instead of monetary payment, I wanted a back rub.
When he didn't respond, I realized he had fallen asleep on the other line.
I was brought back to the current when I saw a flash of blue and red breeze by my face. I looked to see Tim make a Superman costumed gray teddy bear fly. He winked at me, "Do you think Mattie will like it?"
"But of course," I replied, "She's all about flying."
Selina approached us and smiled to see Tim's arrival, "Speaking of flying, were you going to come up to finish the lights tonight?"
He shrugged and held the bear to his side, "Sure, I have to meet Leslie at four," he cleared his throat, "But I can come up after that."
"Good. Because three body shaped holes in the snow and a strand of lights all over the ground does not constitute hanging up the lights," I shook my head, "Cass said you were the one that started it."
"No way, she slipped, bumped into me, and when she began to fall, she grabbed onto my arm… But I was holding the lights and so was Bruce so once she fell, we all did."
"Right, blame the only girl involved," Selina muttered.
Tim shrugged and made his way to the check out line as Selina and I waited for him just outside the store, keeping our eye open for Bruce and his daughter. They emerged with two new bags to add to the collection of the day's efforts. As he approached us, he muttered, "Last damn thing in the store…"
I snorted while Selina elbowed him for cursing in front of Mattie. She had been oblivious however as she eyed the walls of stuffed teddy bears. The store had reached its maximum capacity and I suggested to Selina that maybe we should grab some lunch and come back. She glanced at her watch and asked Bruce what he wanted to do.
"Isn't it a little late to make reservations?" he asked.
"Dad, it's a food court, you don't have to," Mattie sighed. She then spotted Tim as he walked away from the register, "I want to eat what Tim eats!"
"Uh," Tim managed a confused stutter, "Um, sure thing kiddo. Yo quiero Taco Bell…"
Bags in tow, we shuffled alongside the other zombie shoppers, making our way to the Food Court, of which boasted every single fast food franchise in the Northern Hemisphere. The entire time we were in transit, I could hear Bruce trying to convince Selina that they at least eat at one of the "nicer places… like the Ruby Tuesday or whatever."
With a pair of golden arches just in sight, I heard Mattie say that she had to go to the bathroom. Selina said she would take her and instead of abandoning her, Bruce decided for all of us that we would stay and wait at a small collection of benches. After we settled, I watched them walk off towards the restrooms down the corridor next to the hair salon and cellular phone store. It wasn't five minutes after Selina and Mattie had left that it happened.
It began when I spotted the red and white-garbed figure of a mall Santa Claus with a small group of parents and children surrounding him. I remembered thinking how it was great that the guy was touring the mall and not sitting in that North Pole set up with kids crawling all over him. I was going to ask Bruce if he planned on having Mattie's picture taken with Kris Kringle, but when I turned to look at him, he was gone.
Before I could locate my wayward mentor, I heard the shrill scream of children and the thud of a fist into a belly that jiggled like a bowl full of jelly.
Tim and I looked on in horror as the Santa fell to the ground and as his admirers gawked at a stone-faced Bruce. As my mind searched for any plausible reason as to why he would assault a short, chubby man doing his holiday deed, a pair of mall security guards trotted up and quickly tried to act in charge of the situation.
By then, Tim and I had approached Bruce who was beginning to explain the scene he had caused, "…I remembered the news report the other day, about a con artist who was hitting up shopping areas the last few days, and when I looked at his face I recognized it… And I, uh… Didn't see anyone around so I figured it was only right for me to do something… Before he struck again."
The taller of the two guards knelt, felt for a pulse on "Santa's" neck as a young girl bawled, "He killed Santa!"
"No," Bruce said softly, "I didn't…"
A few more children declared the murder of Santa rested on Bruce's shoulders and he did his best to defend himself as parents tired to comfort their young. When the guards hefted the man onto his feet and dragged him over to the bench we had been occupying moments earlier, Bruce sophomorically replied, "See, he's not dead… Besides, it not like Santa's even real…"
Oh, no.
Dozens of glassy eyes widened and locked onto Bruce before erupting in bouts of tears and cries. I heard a few parents call Bruce a Scrooge while even more labeled him an asshole. I hid my grin by biting my lip. Hard. Tim was leaning against a bench, chuckling softly and muttering, "Santa killer."
Three additional guards finally showed up and helped lug the quasi-conscious con down the hall towards Mall Security. One of them, barely eighteen, took Bruce's statement, of which Bruce could hardly deliver without getting a scowl from passing shoppers that had witnessed the event. After the situation had been deemed complete, the guard shook his head and looked up at Bruce, "Next, time, sir, I advise you to leave this to professionals," before turning and walking away.
We gave Bruce a moment to himself before Tim spoke up, "Well… That was interesting. You should have clued me in, we could have tag teamed him."
"And I could have called in an alert status for the JLA," I grinned.
Ten minutes later, Bruce had yet to reply to us, but Selina and Mattie had finally returned, "Hey, someone in the bathroom told me some jerk clobbered a mall Santa---."
"He was a criminal, not a mall Santa, there is a difference---," Bruce growled.
He was interrupted as a young mother called out her son's name. He was stomping towards Bruce, tiny eight-year-old hands holding a cup of hot chocolate. Before the mother could sang the child's arm or before any of us could react, the cocky little kid promptly tossed his beverage at Bruce, who instinctively stepped aside, allowing the landing of the airborne liquid to become my shirt.
The mother of the twerp apologized laboriously and scolded little Jeremy at great lengths before quickly departing. I simply stared down at my chocolate and marshmallow soaked shirt before looking up at Bruce's half-smirk.
He cleared his throat, reached into one of the bags and retrieved a flat box, "Well, this was supposed to be for Christmas… But, um, a few days early wouldn't hurt."
I snatched the sweater from him and asked Selina if she would come with me. As we made our way to the bathroom, I heard Mattie ask, "Dad, I spilt juice on my lap this morning… Can I open a gift early too?"
V
With the Clinic Christmas party only a day away, there was more than plenty to do and hardly enough time to do it in. Alfred was to come down that evening to help with the baking and to provide company for my far too silent home.
Even though there was a crunch for time, I had managed to arrange a mid-afternoon appointment with Timothy for a check on his progress from the events a few nights earlier. For a startling change, Bruce had not been the one to bear the worst of the injuries, but his younger protégés had, mostly Tim. I had been able to watch him develop from the awkward teenager into a full-fledged hero over the last few years, his true colors finally coming through.
Hence his foolishly valiant actions during the fire.
The doorbell rang two minutes after four, signaling his arrival. I had to admit that Tim was the most courteous of the small legion of vigilantes that guarded the City. Bruce pretended he had no manners, Dick was generally decent and Cassandra far too quiet to cause a problem. Therefore it was up to Tim to keep the name hero decent.
I stepped just inside the den and called out that the door was open. He opened it, walked in and sighed, "Not safe to leave your door unlocked, Leslie."
I scoffed, "Bruce gives me the same lecture."
"It's true."
"It's rubbish," I replied as I returned to the kitchen. He followed me two strides behind, close enough for me to hear his footsteps but far enough away so that I couldn't hear his breathing. Smart boy.
While waiting for his arrival, I had been working on a gingerbread house, just a hair smaller that a breadbox. Construction was complete, leaving just the decorating. I handed him a tube of icing and a metal decorating tip and said, "Get to work."
He smirked and said, "Yes, ma'am."
I washed my hands and fetched my doctor's bag from the bedroom closet. When I returned, he had drawn out three windows and a door. I selected another tube and a finer tip and began detailing the roof, "So how has it been?"
"Good," he said quietly before finishing the last windowpane.
"Just good?"
"There haven't been any problems, if that's what you mean."
Thinking of the blunt trauma, I asked him, "How's the back?"
Tim nodded, "Fine, been doing some stretches, prevent cramps. Not as sore as I expected it to be."
"Well, that's good. As long as you don't push it, the skin's flexible there but only to a point. When Alfred has to re-suture, there is no anesthetic."
He smirked, freakishly like Bruce and commented, "So I've heard."
There was a silence between us as we finished applying the icing. When I retrieved a bowl of assorted candies, I selected one and popped it into my mouth, "Mmm, gum drops. Bruce's favorite are the green ones."
"Really?" he asked, his voice broadcasting surprise, "Never pictured him as the green gum drop type."
"When he was younger, couldn't have been much older than Mattie, I would always save the green ones and give them to him whenever I saw him. Tom and Mattie knew about, Alfred did too, but they pretended not to."
I looked up to see that Tim was staring at me. Alfred and I reminisced about a younger and happier Bruce all of the time, but I suddenly realized Tim probably had never heard anything about Bruce's childhood aside from what happened in Crime Alley. I pushed the bowl over to him after I grabbed a handful of candies.
When I began to press them in to the icing, he asked, "What was he like?"
Another long pause fell between us before I could respond, "It may sound corny, but he was a lot like his daughter. Very carefree, happy, intelligent. Tom was hardly around, but when he was, Bruce was at his side every second."
He smirked again, "Just like Mattie is with Bruce."
I nodded, "Precisely. And as much as Mattie, well, Martha, was a lady, she had quite the fiery spirit. She was so petite and subtle… and yet she could boss poor Tom up and down the streets of Gotham without lifting a finger."
That drew a laugh out of him, "Also very familiar."
Our talk dwindled as we finished the house. He had been there for thirty minutes, twenty of which had been spent talking about his mentor and his own first day of school. His eyes began to shift to his watch every other minute, a key sign that he had plans for his afternoon.
After taking his vitals, I looked over the wound and listened to his breathing for two minutes. I agreed with Alfred that he was doing well, but was still in danger of a respiratory tract infection from the smoke inhalation. I recommended that he keep up with the steam breathing, to up the inhaler to twice daily and the second that he experienced fever or mucus discharge to come back for an antibiotic script.
Being the gentleman that he was, he kissed me on the cheek, thanked me and promised to behave himself. Just like a six-year-old boy once did after taking a small wax paper bag of green sweets from my hands.
V
While everyone had else had spent the morning at the mall shopping, I had been in the Cave, working through my routines. I had my shopping done, thanks to Barbara's encouragement, so I didn't have to go.
When Barbara had been invited, she had asked me. She also had listed who was going to be there and when Tim's name was recited, I was tempted. But declined. I really wasn't in the mood to be around a lot of people anyway.
A little after five, I called it quits, showered, changed and went upstairs. The house was quiet and only the hall lights were on, so I deduced they had yet to return. I stopped at the kitchen, poured a glass of cranberry juice and spotted a slip of paper on the counter. Its corner was pinned by a small plate of peanut butter cookies.
I picked it up and read it to myself: Miss Cassandra, I have left for Dr. Thompkins for the evening and should return around eleven. I am unaware of the arrival of the remaining members of the household, so if need be, you may contact myself at Dr. Thompkins' household number or Master Bruce on his cellular telephone. There is a prepared diner in the oven if you are famished from your day's efforts. Alfred.
Dinner was a still warm plate of grilled chicken cutlets on a bed of pilaf and steamed vegetables. I wasn't really all that hungry for once and decided to leave it for later. Instead, I refilled my glass and headed for the den for part of the 007 Days of Christmas marathon.
Being alone in the house meant I could turn the surround sound up and sprawl out on the big leather couch. That was why I was surprised to see my spot already taken and the TV tuned into the wrong marathon: I Love the 90's.
"Thought you were shopping?" I asked as I stepped into the room.
Tim shot up quickly and looked over at me, "Jesus, Cass. I thought no one was here."
"Me, too. Is everyone else home?"
He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, causing it to spike, "No, I had a meeting, left the mall early to go to it and then came up here to help Bruce finish the lights."
I smirked and sat down on the couch next to him, "Ah. Yeah, glad it's you and not me."
He shrugged, "I figure if it goes to pieces this time, the next one will be a piece of cake. Third times a charm right?"
I looked over at him, "Keep dreaming."
"I told my dad about it and he thought it was hilarious, said it serves me right. Then Dana asked why we he wouldn't put lights on our house… The face he made was priceless. So now next year I get to help him put lights up and Bruce."
"Have fun with that. Next year I'm sticking to decorating the tree and cookies." We were quiet for a bit before I continued, "So who was the meeting with?"
"Leslie. Alfred wanted her to check me out."
"Ah, what did she say?" I asked before sipping my juice.
"That I'll be all right as long as I do what the doctor tells me."
I paused, "How's your back?"
"Fine," he replied quickly, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Grouch. I leaned over and tugged at his shirt, "How can you tell? You can't even see it."
"I can, too. It's fine."
Shaking my head, I muttered, "Right," before tugging up his shirt and catching the faintest glimpse of white gauze. He pushed it down and looked over at me, almost looking embarrassed. To put him at ease, I said, "What? It's not like I haven't seen you with a lot less."
The beginning of a blush was coming to his cheeks as he looked over at me once more. I realized that I had only made it worse. We had never really talked about that night at the Clocktower, but I had truly thought that it hadn't been that big of a deal. I knew then that I was the only one who felt that way.
Knowing he wasn't going to speak up, I did, "Did it bother you? What happened."
Tim shifted on the couch and then looked over at me again, "I don't know. I've tried not to think about it too much…" his eyes fell to the floor as a smirk grew on his lips, "Then again, I haven't really tried all that hard."
I dared a touch of his hand with mine and withdrew once his eyes were on me, "Don't think too hard on it. I didn't. I don't have to. There's not many people I would have done that with."
In fact, he was the only one I would have…
"Tim, you in here?" Selina's voice came down the hall. We both looked towards the door just as she entered, "Oh, hi guys. Tim, Bruce is going to change and then whenever you're ready he'll meet you on the roof."
"Thanks, I'll be up in a few."
She looked at us for a second longer and then turned back to the hall and disappeared. Tim paused then stood, "Well, I guess that's my cue… Listen, we should… would you want to… Uh, come over. For dinner some time."
I stood as well, stepped towards him and replied, "Sure."
He paused, opened his mouth as if he was going to reply and then nodded at me before briskly walking out of the room. I collapsed onto the couch and reached over for the remote. After keying in the channel, I smiled to see the opening credits of Goldfinger, one of my favorite Connery Bond films. I'm not sure what really drew me to the genre, surely the action was great and the global threats were intriguing, but I guess it all boiled down to one thing.
Just one more instance where the bad guy gets a taste of his own medicine in the end.
V
"Hand me the staple gun," Bruce grunted, trying to keep his footing on an icy patch of the roof.
I did so and he mumbled something that might have been gratitude. A lot of people took offense to Bruce's bearish ways, but then again a lot of people didn't know him or trust him like I did.
We had been risking our lives up on the roof of Wayne Manor for nearly an hour. The chilly wind had been keeping us company, dropping the actual temperature to a below freezing wind chill. With ten strands up and four to go, our conversation had dipped to practically nothing, aside from quiet requests or the occasional hushed curse as either of us slipped.
"So you saw Leslie today."
Even though I knew he hadn't meant it as a question, I answered, "Yeah, she said everything looks fine, no sign of infection or anything."
"That's good," he connected the strand we had just finished tacking on with the previous one. As he walked back towards me, he slipped once, swore and then continued. "It's never the inhalation that's of concern, it's the secondary pneumonia."
Like I was going to argue.
"She said my back was fine, but not to push the exercise until it's healed more," I smiled, "Even threatened me that if he needed additional stitches, she would refuse me and send me back to Alfred."
I noticed a half smirk on Bruce's lips, no doubt recalling hundreds of times Alfred had to tend to his wounds a second time, "Ouch."
"My thoughts exactly. So I figure I'll have Alfred take another look at it in a few days, then get back into the swing of things."
He nodded, but had turned his face away from me slightly so I couldn't see his expression. It was generally the best indicator of what was going on in his mind and without it I was in the dark, until he spoke up, "Fine."
One strand later, I asked, "So, they book that Santa creep from this afternoon?"
Bruce replied, "Yeah, he can't afford bail though, so he'll be spending the night in city lock-up until he can find someone to take pity on him."
"Like his elves," I smirked.
"I fear some sort of 'Free Santa' group that will get him out. I can't believe those people didn't recognize him."
I was unraveling the remainder of the light string we working on as I said, "Well, not everyone memorizes the faces of criminals…" the scowl on his face encouraged me to add, "But they should."
We were nearly done when he unexpectedly sat down and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his coat. I wanted to ask if he as all right, but I figured he would shove me off the house if I did. Instead, I sat beside him and buttoned my coat up to my chin, "Winds finally dying."
Bruce acknowledged me with a slight nod, "Supposed to snow later. Should make patrols interesting."
"Cass going out with you?"
"Yeah, we're heading out after I get done here."
"One thing after another," I mumbled, not intending it for his ears. I should have known better.
"That's life," he paused before continuing, "Listen, I've been meaning to ask you… You and Batgirl were involved in the fire more than I was… I was wondering, how do you think the new foam pellets worked?"
Unexpected, but whatever. "Well, I deployed about a dozen of them in total and for the most part they were effective but…"
"But what?"
"Well, it seemed as if they didn't cover enough of the flame when they exploded… I'm not sure if it's the shape of the capsule or the concentration, but maybe if it were altered, I don't know. It just seemed like I had to use more capsules to kill the base of the fire."
Not everyday you bash an invention to its inventor.
"Good point. Why don't you take this down time, work on some schematics."
I suddenly realized how odd this conversation was. Bruce Wayne/Batman was asking me to work on improving one of his inventions, of which must have been perfect in his eye in order to provide to us to use. Perhaps it was colder than I thought and I was delirious with hypothermia…
"Sure, no problem. I can get started tonight."
I watched as he rubbed his hands together quickly and then searched his coat pockets until he pulled out a pair of leather gloves. As he donned them he asked, "Was there anything else… that seemed ineffective?"
This was getting a little on the awkward side. Time to shake things up, "Aside from the fact that sweating and Kevlar don't mix?" The smirk on his face was worth the weirdness of the conversation.
"Boys, you dead up there?" a call came from down below. We both peered over the edge to see Selina and Mattie standing just outside the service entrance of the mansion, bundled in coats and scarves.
"Don't fall, Dad!" Mattie giggled.
He stood and replied, "I'll try not to. Will you catch me if I do?"
"No way, Jose!" she replied as she began packing snowballs.
I remembered when it was strange watching Bruce interact with his daughter, seeing him "normal". But after five years, it would be strange to not see it. We finished hanging the remaining lights and double-checked the connections as we made our way back towards the ladder. He let me go down first and followed shortly after. I tried not to make it obvious, but I looked up occasionally and watched as he moved. We had been sitting for less than twenty minutes and because I knew him and trusted him as much as I did, I saw the stiffness. For my own piece of mind, I ignored it, summed it up to the fact that I was a little stiff myself and the skin-numbing cold wasn't any help.
Once we were both on the ground, Mattie trampled through the snow and attacked Bruce's legs. He bent over and heft her up into his arms as s he asked, "Can we see the lights now, Dad?"
"Sure thing. Tim why don't you hit the switch?"
I nodded and approached the wall were there was a covered utility box. I opened the door and checked the plug in the outlet before flipping the switch up into the on position. And after fourteen strands of lights, a total of two thousand, eight hundred white bulbs, two nights of decorating and five days before Christmas Day, Wayne Manor was finally dressed with its holiday cheer.
"Very nice, boys. Job well done," Selina commented as we approached her. Bruce stepped up next to her and shifted his daughter in his arms. She leaned over and kissed his cheek briefly before continuing, "Well, I'm freezing my butt off, Mattie let's go make some hot cocoa."
"Yeah!" she practically leapt out of Bruce's arms, but he held on to her long enough to get her to the ground. She skipped towards the house and looked back as Bruce and I stood in the snow. "Are you coming? It's cold out, you know."
Bruce agreed, "That it is," he turned to me, "Are you heading home?"
"Come, on Tim, you have to have cocoa with me."
Selina paused at the door and cleared her throat, "Why don't you try that again, young lady."
Mattie sighed, then looked over at me, "Please have hot cocoa with me, Tim."
"I would love to," I replied and quickly walked over to follow them into the entrance room. Bruce was a few strides behind and I held the door for him until he caught up. As we removed our coats and snow covered shoes, I said, "Hey, Bruce, I have another suggestion."
"Oh?"
"Next year, I think you should splurge and pay Connor to hang up the lights."
He grunted, "Connor as in Kent."
"The one and only. If he gets too out of hand, you could always whip out the K ring and give him a noogie or something," his disbelief was broadcasted all over his face, "Seriously, I'd rather have him fall than me. At least he could fly back up there."
"I'll keep it in mind."
I was about to say something to the fact that it was the second time he had take my suggestions to heart in less than an hour but decided against it. Hot cocoa with a five year old and not pushing my luck with her father seemed to be the better course of action.
V
"I'm still not talking to you," Barbara's stern voice came over the comm. link.
I crouched beside an air duct on the roof of the Ritz before speaking again, "I apologized, what more can I do?"
"I don't know, Bruce, but until I do, I'm not talking to you," she snapped, all the while the background filled with the clatter of keyboards being assaulted.
Dropping my voice an octave I growled, "Fine." There was a long silence, but I knew she hadn't broken the connection. Two could play at that…
We didn't speak to each other for over an hour as I finished the northwest corner of the city. On my own for patrols, I had expected more work but had been met with less. Then again it was Christmas Eve and even the coldest of criminals had enough heart and mind left to stay home.
Selina had pleaded with me to stay home, but with Tim not returning until Saturday night and Cassandra staying home after the onset of an upper respiratory infection, I had to hold down things on my own. I did, however, tell her I would do my best to be home by three. She agreed, and had also added that if I got into bed with cold feet, I was going to be receiving coal in my stocking.
As I made my way to the Batmobile in order to better patrol the streets, I thought on the gift I had arranged for Selina. The Preserve was flourishing, although it took up a great deal of Selina's time, the investment had been well worth it. There were fourteen cats on the property, each in excellent condition. There was a young bobcat amputee who had lost a hind limb due to a gunshot wound. Mattie had named him Lucky and in light of my greatest fears, they were becoming fast friends. Selina assured me he was a "sweetheart" and that Mattie had only interacted with him while under sedation following veterinarian examinations.
Still…
Among the extended feline family, there were no tigers, a favorite of Selina's. But as of four in the afternoon on Christmas Day, the Preserve would become home to a pair of six month old Siberian tigers that had been raised from birth in Montana but needed a larger and more permanent home. And as much as I hated the concept of gifts, this was one that I had actually enjoyed working on.
"Boss?"
"I thought we weren't talking?" I replied as I pulled out of the alley and onto the main drag.
"Whatever. Report just came through of two stolen taxi vans from the airport. Grand theft is responding, do you want in on it?"
I asked the condition of the cab owners and she elaborated, "Two men armed with knives approached the cabs at the stand, ushered the drivers out and then sped off… Oh, wait…. Two units caught up with them on Sussex, pulled them over… Never mind. I'll find you something else."
The LCD on the panel said the time was five past midnight. Officially Christmas. In less than two weeks, Mattie would have her fifth Christmas and her sixth birthday. Selina had plans of a party, of which would include all twenty of Mattie's classmates. Apparently, you were not allowed to invite a select few, it was the whole class or none. I suggested the latter and had received icy and identical stares from my wife and daughter.
So it was twenty-one kindergartners, ice cream cake and a Sponge Bob Squarepants themed birthday party.
I was already praying for some sort of global emergency that would have the members of the Justice League at my door begging for my help.
By one-thirty, I had investigated three calls of any interest, all of which panned out to practically nothing. A stolen vehicle had turned out to be illegally parked and had been towed. A drunken dispute had nearly erupted into an all out brawl between two brothers, all over who had spent the most on their mother's gifts. The last had been the only one I had actually stepped in on, an armed robbery of a small grocery store. The perps had fled on foot, leaving fresh tracks in the snow. It took less than fifteen minutes to chase hunt them down, scare the life from them and to call it in to dispatch.
Overall, not too bad.
Years ago, I was discouraged by quiet nights when crime activity was low. Recently, I have found myself to cherish them. Being away from home brought back ancient memories of my father being ensnared for hours in the surgery room, away from his family. As a child I had been angry at him, but now that I was in his shoes, I knew it had been unjustified. Every minute away from my child was agony. I could only imagine what it was like for him, saving the lives of others when all he wanted to be was home with us…
Selina had tried to push the guilt factor onto me several times over the last five years, even though I had been doing it to myself without her knowing. When Mattie was still an infant, she had donned her own cowl in order to return to the city's nightlife. I had been infuriated at her actions and we had ended up a heated brawl over the matter. In the end, I had laid it as simple as possible: she did not need to risk her life now that she was a parent.
She had countered with the fact that neither of us did.
"You there?" Barbara asked.
"No," I replied.
"Good. I'm going to call it quits. I'll see you tomorrow morning, nine sharp."
"What?"
"Breakfast is at nine, didn't Selina tell you?"
"Fine, whatever."
"Good night, Scrooge."
I paused and shifted in my seat, "Good night."
Not truly ready to head back to Bristol for the night, I decided to cruise the remainder of the city, letting my thoughts drift as my eyes gazed out at the snowy streets. As I made my way through Bryanttown, I realized that it was my twentieth Christmas as Batman. My fifth as a husband. Sixth as a father… No, my mind echoed with images of a gangly ten year old boy… Eighteenth as a father. Thirty-fourth without my parents…
The years surely added up.
I depressed a telephone link button in the console and said "Home." After a muted dialing sounded, there were two rings and then Selina's voice, "Whuh… Oh, hi."
"Figured I'd call and tell you I'll be on my way home shortly."
I listened as she yawned, "What a sweetheart. I've been wrapping gifts, but I should have it all finished by the time you get back. Oh, and I have a surprise for you, call it an early gift."
I smirked, "Oh really?"
"Yep. And as much as you would like to think, it's not that gift."
I feigned disappointment, "Oh. Well in that case, I think I'll tour the city once more, just in case."
"Don't even think it. Besides, Barbara said there wasn't anything happening anyway."
As I pulled onto the St. James North, I asked, "When did you talk to her?"
She paused and I could hear the rustle of wrapping paper, "Isis, no! I already gave you a bow to play with. What, oh, she called me like an hour ago, said she was bored from not talking to you. Listen I have to go, Isis just took off with a bag of bows."
"See you in a few."
"Bye, hon."
Five years down with her, who knew how many were yet to come.
V
After quickly hanging up the phone, I rolled off of the bed and dashed after Isis. She had made it a few yards down the hall and had already begun to shred the bag of bows. Scraps of shiny pieces decorated the floor and shimmered under the dimmed lights.
"Bad kitty," I sighed as I knelt in front of her. She looked up with glowing eyes, mewed softly and went back to work on the bows. I managed to get the bag from her but she scooted off with one of the large silver ones, leaving me to clean up her mess.
Ten minutes later I was back in the bedroom, hands full of scraps. I dumped them in a small trashcan in the bathroom and on my way back to the bedroom, I caught a look at myself in the mirror. Hair in a loose bun had spilled out; the make up I had donned over twenty hours earlier was nonexistent and the rumpled long sleeved cotton shirt of Bruce's that I had borrowed did nothing for my frame.
Stunning.
Having tucked Mattie in a little after eight, of which had been a battle in itself, I had wished Alfred good night shortly there after. For nearly six hours it had been just me and my thoughts, of which never ended up being a good thing. Aside from wrapping a few remaining gifts, I had reviewed some paperwork for the Preserve and had updated a few progress reports on the newest arrivals. Keeping up with the care of the property and the residents had proved to be fairly time consuming, but definitely worth it. It had always been a necessity of mine to do something constructive with my skills, whether it was to torture the wealthy creeps of Gotham's penthouses or to give a home to big cats. Or raising a daughter.
As I filled Mattie's stocking with colored pencils, bubble gum and a pair of purple fleece socks, I had a sudden urge to check in on her. She'd been back on the kick of having nightmares, nothing too terrible, but still troubling. At first I thought it had been a ruse in order to sleep with Bruce, but with the bouts recurring at different intervals, we had both decided she was having trouble sleeping. Bruce had worked with her last summer about relaxation and self-hypnosis in order to help calm herself during asthma attacks.
So just before bed, he would help her get into a relaxed stage so that sleeping would be easier. That night, he had left to get ready for patrols shortly after dinner and I had done my best to work with her but I still wondered when my bedroom door was going to open to a teary eyed five year old.
After setting her stocking aside several gifts that had to go downstairs, I moved back to the bed and reached for the quilt at the ed of the bed. After covering myself, I reached for the remote on the bedside table and pressed a green button. Soft music filtered in from the overhead speakers. As much as I wanted to wait for Bruce to get home, sleeping seemed to be an equally enticing idea. The second I closed my eyes, though, I knew he would walk into the room…
I felt a pair of claws on my back and I rolled over to see that Isis had returned, no doubt looking for a truce. I scratched her chin and tented the blanket so she could crawl under. She settled around my ankles, the flicking of her tail tickled my toes.
As she slipped into unconsciousness, I was left alone again.
For no known reason, I reached out from under the blanket and pulled Bruce's pillow closer to me. Having been with Bruce for seven years, it was far too common for me to fall asleep with him still out in the night. I sighed, thinking out of our time together, we had only shared a year where our relationship did not include Batman, and unfortunately it had been the same year when he had nearly died.
And although I was glad for him to be back in the life that he loved…
For as long as I had known him, Bruce had used his dual lives as barriers in order to keep people he cared about at a safe distance. He also used them in order to deny problems that he did not care to admit to. If physically possible, he would be Batman for the rest of his life, make his differences in whatever way he could, all the while letting problems in his own life carry on because he didn't want to deal with them.
Exhibit A: Richard Grayson.
I had brought up the topic of his eldest son on three occasions since Thanksgiving, each of which had earned me a glare and/or a grunt. The last time I had brought it up, it had been after speaking with a supervising officer in Bludhaven that had expressed concerns about "Detective Grayson's continuing excessive investment of his time and energy" into his case. I was able to obtain a few more details that neither I nor Barbara had been unable to pry from Dick and when I relayed them to Bruce he had commented briefly that he would look into it.
Right… At least I knew he would actually have to do something in the morning, whether he wanted to or not.
Still chilled, even with the blanket, I rolled out of bed and wished that Bruce was home so I had something warmer than Isis to snuggle with. I was rummaging in the dresser for a pair of flannel pants when I heard the door creak. As I turned, I was surprised to see my nightmare-riddled daughter, but the robe clad form of my husband. I pulled out a pair of navy blue pants and donned them as I greeted him, "What, did you speed?"
"A little," he shrugged and walked over to me. I had expected him to look tired, but for a pleasant change he actually seemed all right. I stood kissed his cheek and smiled when he wrapped his arms around my lower back, "So, this early gift you mentioned?"
"Yes, what about it?" I asked as I kissed his jaw.
He paused and looked down at me, "Can I see it?"
I nodded, slipped out of his hold and walked out of the room. When he didn't follow me, I called out, "You coming or not?"
Not a second later, he was at my side and already confused. Luckily, this gift had sort of come into its own and had been one I had definitely not expected. Nor had Bruce. I took his hand as we neared the end of the hall and then lead him down the stairs to the second floor.
"I have to ask, what exactly is this gift?" he asked as we walked down the dark hallway.
"I can't tell you, you can wait five seconds and see for yourself. No be quiet,"
"Yes, dear."
"Shh," I growled.
I almost laughed when he responded with a hushed voce, "Yes, dear."
Although I could have turned the hall lights on, at least the dim ones, I let us move on in the dark. Besides, I didn't want to risk disturbing our guest. At the second to last door on the right I paused and squeezed Bruce's hand. He stopped as well and I knew it was all coming together for him. There was only one person who had ever slept in the room we stood outside of, and that same person was currently in there, snoring away a well-deserved rest. I cracked the door open and stepped aside so that Bruce could peer inside. A bedside lamp was still on, casting a soft glow over Dick's body. He was lying on his stomach, arm dangling over the edge, with the blankets around his waist.
He had showed up at the front door a little before one, practically dead on his feet with a small overnight bag and an over stuffed attaché case in his hands. He mumbled "Merry Christmas" and asked if would mind if he spent the night. After I hugged him for three minutes, squeezing the life out of the poor guy no doubt, I ushered him upstairs, set him up for the night and left him in peace.
Bruce looked over at me, and for the first time in far too long, I wasn't able to tell what he was feeling. Usually everything was discernable just by looking at his eyes, but right then it was impossible.
That was until I watched as he slowly walked into the room, turned the lamp off and pulled the blankets up over Dick's shoulders.
He was just surprised to his son on Christmas.
V
Yeah, so now that school is out and the holidays are over, I am seriously indulging in some ficcin'. I promise!!!!
