Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all my poor victims in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that must be how it remains for obvious reasons.

I'm Especially Good

Christmas was in the air as Blake moved to 'Rockin Around The Christmas Tree' while he nibbled on one of his gingerbread cookies. Standing off to the side so that he wouldn't be in the way Barasad ate his own cookie, all the while trying to look very stern and foreboding. The mercenary wasn't having a lot of luck with that since apparently he had a thing for gingerbread cookies, but they weren't going to mention that since it was Christmas time and therefore not a time for fighting and Barsad forcing him to stay in his room in retaliation for teasing him.

He'd wondered at first if Barsad and Bane would try to stop him from celebrating Christmas, especially since they were so down on material and capitalism. He wasn't am idiot after all, he knew that the holiday was a commercial one in the eyes of a lot of people, and even saying 'Merry Christmas' could spark controversy with the overly sensitive. It wasn't just an excuse to shop to him though, and he refused to not give proper holiday greetings, so he'd been prepared to fight tooth and nail for his right to celebrate it if Barsad had tried to stop him. But the man had just shrugged once he'd gotten over his surprise at his declaration of intent and didn't seem to think Bane would have a problem with it either.

And since he'd gotten three cookies in the man already Blake figured Barasad had enough sweetness in him to at least hear him out about the tree. "So I was wondering…what would I have to bribe you with for you to let me cut down one of the pine trees outside?"

If he hadn't just finished his third cookie Barsad would have choked on it. "You want to cut down a tree?"

"For Christmas. It has to be a real one, the fake ones don't count. I'll cut it down and carry it in and everything. I just figured…well you probably don't want me handling an axe or chainsaw without your permission."

Gee, you think? "Have you ever even used an axe or chainsaw?"

Blake gave him a confused look. "No. But it's not exactly rocket science, right?"

Barsad took a moment to imagine the carnage, the blood and gore pretty bad even before he'd factored in what Bane would do if he came back to find out that Blake was missing a limb or the majority of his blood supply. And who would the blame fall on, why him of course. "No."

"I'll make you all the gingerbread cookies you want." Blake cajoled before tacking on the barely veiled threat. "And you have no idea how annoying I can be if I really put my mind to it. If you let me get my tree I promise to behave and be on my best behavior until Boxing Day." He had to stay until then if he was going to celebrate Christmas properly after all.

On the one hand he really didn't want to set a precedent, letting Blake think he was that easy to manipulate, but on the other hand Barsad had to admit that he was sort of curious about this whole Christmas obsession the man had. Well that and he wanted to see Bane's reaction to the whole thing when the man came back that night to discover what their hostage had been up to. So sue him, he was only human. There was no reason the man couldn't have a tree, Barsad reasoned, he could see Blake's devotion to this holiday was true and without hidden motive.

"I will have a tree cut down."

Opening his mouth to insist that he could do it, he was actually sort of pumped to cut down his own tree now, Blake closed it just as quickly, reading the look Barsad was giving him correctly. The man was only going to budge so far and apparently thought he couldn't be trusted with power tools. He could understand that.

He was getting his tree and that was what mattered.

"So you've never celebrated Christmas before?"

"No."

"Do you…want to celebrate Christmas with me?"

Picking up another cookie, damn if he wasn't earning them, Barsad shook his head at Blake. "You do realize you're a prisoner here, right? That you won't leave this city alive, and how long you live is for Bane to decide. Using this holiday and what it originally stood for before it was corrupted and mutated into the commercial monster it now is-it will not work. Celebrate if you like, but it will do you no good. You are the enemy, not a friend."

"Okay…Bane's the Grinch and you can be Scrooge. Got it."

Getting the last reference Barsad just barely stopped himself from tossing out a 'Bah Humbug'.

)

Bane didn't know what to make of the fact that there were pine needles on the floor when he entered the house late that night, the scent of them mixed with other smells that made his stomach growl and had him following his nose to the kitchen. The sight of so many cookies, at least four different finds, had his eyebrows rising, especially since there were gaps that suggested that people had been coming in, lifting up the wrap that covered the treats, and helping themselves. And since he couldn't imagine that one of his men had suddenly decided to bake, and in one kind's case ice said cookies, the logical culprit was Blake. Why the detective had done it was the question.

The iced ones were holiday themed, Bane noted as fingers itched to help himself to a couple, so the logical explanation was that the detective thought to use the coming Christian holiday of Christmas in some manner. How the man intended to use it remained to be seen, especially since Barsad would have supervised the baking to make sure no attempt at poisoning occurred.

Forcing himself to leave the treats alone, he could always come back later for some, Bane turned his thoughts to the question of where Barsad was. His right hand was probably guarding Blake given the detective's ill-advised escape attempt that morning and since he'd decided that his earlier hypothesis that he might be developing romantic feelings for Blake was highly flawed and improbable going to see Blake before he turned in for the evening made perfect sense. He'd sleep better knowing he'd faced the man without feeling a thing.

Naturally he noticed that the pine needles trailed up the stairs and in the direction of Blake's room, his curiosity growing with every step he took. To make it absolutely clear that this was his territory and Blake was his captive, and therefore should behave as such, Bane didn't knock, letting himself into the man's room without warning.

The shock of what he saw actually had him stumbling back a couple steps.

He completely missed Barsad's muttering that he wished he had a camera as well as Blake seconding that, the two men staying on the bed with their popcorn as they turned their attention from the movie they'd been watching to Bane instead

Naturally he'd never celebrated the Christian holiday known as Christmas, and he'd never seen decorations such as this outside of books and other forms of media. But it was all here, Bane realized as he slowly turned his head this way and that to take it all in. The small white lights encircling the windows, cut out paper snowflakes bright white against the night dark glass. Long chains of gold and silver garlands, which sort of reminded him of caterpillars, were cheerfully draped over shelves and around a lamp post.

"Is the tree not supposed to be decorated?" It stood proud and straight in one corner, held up by some device that seemed to have been made for that purpose. But there was not a single foreign object on any of the branches and he was a little disappointed, though Bane didn't quite know why.

"It will be tomorrow." Blake informed him. "I had to wait for it to dry before bring it up here thank to all the snow, plus a certain someone insisted on going through every single ornament beforehand to take out all the ones that could conceivably be used as a weapon which took hours." He sent Barsad a dark look as he spoke before turning his attention back to Bane. "You wouldn't believe how little that leaves me to work with. Hence the popcorn chain I'm making."

"More like eating."

"Quiet you. I made double what we needed for a reason."

Finally focusing on the two of them Bane just barely bit back a growl at the sight of Barsad and Blake on the bed together. The fact that they were both fully clothed, on top of the covers with their backs to the headboard and bowls of popcorn in their laps did little to quell the darkness rising up to take him by the throat. He did not like them sitting so close together. He really did not approve of them being on a bed at the same time.

There were no words what he felt over the fact that Blake quite obviously liked Barsad more than him.

Unlike Blake, Barsad had had years to learn all of his leader's tells, able to read him better than anyone, even Talia. She too often saw what she wanted to see. So he knew that Bane was very angry and upset for some reason, something that had happened within the last few moments. Setting aside the bowl of popcorn he slid off the bed and walked over to stand in front of the other man, asking in a low voice as to what was wrong.

"Leave us."

Still confused but not about to question the order Barsad nodded and quickly left the room without so much as glancing in Blake's direction.

Picking up on the definitely non Christmasy atmosphere Blake set his bowl aside as well, moving up so that he was partially standing on his knees. "If you're mad about the decorations and stuff that's all me, not him. He even discovered this letter opener I'd been hiding and he's got it now. And I also promised to be a good little hostage until Boxing Day, which should make you happy."

Walking over to stand beside the bed, deliberately not taking his normal seat, Bane's voice was as cold as ice. "Attempting to seduce my second in command would not be wise."

Blake stared. And stared. And then he laughed.

"Are you serious? Did you take a blow to the head while you were gone? Barsad? Too short, thin, and very straight, thank you very much. Not to mention the facial hair. Dude, you need some serious sleep, ASAP. I'll see you in the morning."

And on that note Blake turned his attention back to the screen with much snickering, restarting the movie.

)

It took Bane almost an hour to realize that not only had he allowed Blake to dismiss him…but he'd ended up obeying the other man's suggestion that he leave without question. Here he was in the room he'd taken as his, dressed for bed and with a book in his lap-and he couldn't remember anything he must have read or tried to read in that hour. All he seemed to remember, could think about, was that HE wanted to string popcorn with Blake. HE wanted to decorate the man's room and the tree and…and HE wanted to be the man beside Blake in his bed.

This had to be dealt with.

Setting aside the book Bane pushed aside his covers and headed out of the room and down the hallway. If Blake was asleep he would just wake the man up, violently if necessary. It was probably going to be necessary, especially since the quicker Blake started looking at him with fear and loathing like any normal person the quickly he could get it through his own thick skull that he was nothing but a monster in the other man's eyes and Blake would never see him as anything else.

Sheer habit had him making little to no sound as he walked, opening Blake's door carefully before stepping in, knowing that the detective was still awake due to the light he'd seen under said door.

"Holy fuck are you ever RIPPED!"

Once again Bane found himself completely and totally blindsided, but this time it was because Blake was currently looking at him the way a man lost in the desert looked at an oasis. He believed the street term would be that he was being eye fucked.

Aware he might be drooling but beyond caring, Blake's eyes couldn't decide exactly what portion of Bane's anatomy to settle on. The man wasn't a wearing a shirt so his chest and massive arms were on display, but the cotton pants the man as wearing were riding decidedly low on Bane's hips and THOSE muscles were hard to miss too. All those muscles, all that tanned skin, all the sexy, sexy scars! Dear God he wanted to scream like a little girl at boy band concert. And okay, better not to focus on the scars, Blake decided, since thinking about how the man had probably gotten a lot of those would totally kill this moment for him. Better to think about the fact that he was looking at an honest to God, no fooling, perfectly formed eight pack. He'd never seen such perfection before in real life and FUCK it was a beautiful thing.

He couldn't help but wonder if Bane would be willing to turn around so that he could see the back too.

Having never been in this situation before Bane didn't quite know what to do, his stomach muscles automatically clenching at the way they were being looked at, which Blake really liked given the way the man's eyes glazed over in a dreamy, far off look.

The way that made him feel had Bane wishing he'd stayed in his room with his nose stuck in a book.

"Blake?" He had to repeat the man's name three times before he responded.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Because you have the most lickable body I've ever seen in my thirty years of life. Which is so unfair on a number of levels, but I'm ignoring them for the moment. What are you doing here?"

Lickable? He was lickable?

How long they stared at each other while trying to process the fact that Blake considered Bane's body utterly lickable neither knew, the moment broken by the sound of orchestra music, the beauty of it drawing his gaze over to the television screen.

"What-what are you watching?"

The fact that Bane had turned to look at the screen, which cut off his perfect view of the man's chest, caused enough blood to flow back up to Blake's head that he actually processed and understood what was being asked. And how he'd been behaving since the other man walked into the room.

Blushing fiercely Blake pointedly looked at the screen too as he answered the question. "It's 'Home Alone 2, Lost in New York'."

Since the classical music was over his interest was negligible, but it was safer to watch the scene than look in Blake's direction. "It is a Christmas movie?"

"A must watch." Blake confirmed, clearing his throat loudly, desperate for a change in topic while he died of embarrassment. "There's actually four of them, but I've never seen more than a few minutes of the last one, it was that bad. Beyond horrible. Anyway the first two were my favorite live action Christmas movies when I was a kid. They sort of lost their shine once I was old enough to understand just how much pain Marv and Harry would actually be in at times, but I still love them."

Quiet reigned for a while, and then Bane asked what the boy was doing to the house he appeared to have broken into.

"He's booby-trapping it. See he knows these two guys intend to rob a toy store of all its money on Christmas Eve, and he intends to lure them to the house, which is owned by family of his by the way, and put them through hell before siccing the police on them."

"Why does he not inform the police ahead of time?"

"Because then the two idiots wouldn't be hurt in ways that are entertaining to those who can't understand the kind of damage being inflicted on them."

Needing something more than a movie he'd seen a million times to take his mind off things, Blake turned his attention back to the popcorn chain he'd been working on. He needed a lot of them since Barsad had taken most of the ornaments away from him, which he'd only forgiven the man for because he really had gotten him an awesome tree. He didn't know how the hell he was going to decorate it given his limited options, but it was biggest, most perfectly formed-shit.

Bad line of thought-especially since he really wanted to know if Bane was proportionate everywhere.

It would be totally lame to ask Bane to never again appear before him without a shirt on, Blake told himself, even as he couldn't help but steal looks out of the corner of his eye when he really hoped Bane wasn't noticing.

No such luck

"You keep looking at me, Detective Blake."

"Well go get a friggin shirt on if you don't want me to look!"

A long pause. "I still fail to comprehend why you're staring."

"What part of needing a shirt didn't you get?" Blake demanded to know, forcing himself to look over to meet Bane's eyes. "And you can quit looking so worried too, FYI. Unless you say 'If you like it all that much, it's yours' I won't jump you. Probably. If you keep a shirt on." He couldn't stifle his very loud sound of frustration or the fact that he was seriously blushing again. "Dammit. You're torturing me deliberately now, aren't you?"

"I'm…torturing you?"

In the back of his mind all Blake could hear was that chihuahua from 'Oliver in Company' saying 'If this is torture, chain me to the wall'.

Dammit.