Disclaimer: As always we'll own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in.

Be Our Guest

Long after Bane had left him for the night Blake found that he couldn't go to sleep, his mind too busy agonizing over the fact that he was so messed in the head that he was actually upset that Bane wouldn't be spending Christmas with him. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? Even pushing aside all the obvious reasons why a lack of Bane should make him happy, the man didn't even celebrate Christmas! And there was no way Bane would take the mask off around him so there went sharing a proper holiday meal with him…not to mention the fact that he doubted the man even knew the words to 'Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer', much less the other carols he was going to have to sing by himself. There weren't any present to unwrap either, and he was just fine with watching 'It's A Wonderful Life' all by himself in his room. He'd been doing that for years, thank you very much. Really, at this point he was a pro at being alone Christmas Eve and the fact that Bane's absence was actually keeping him up was just-just wrong!

Though thinking himself pathetic enough to be lonely at the idea of spending Christmas Eve alone was better than thinking he wanted to spend time traditionally meant for families and couples with Bane, Blake thought darkly as he grabbed the spare pillow and pressed it over his face to muffle his groan. That was even more depressing than realizing at the age of seven that Santa didn't exist.

Christmas was supposed to be about peace…so where the hell was his peace of mind, dammit?!

Laying sprawled out on his back Blake found willing himself to sleep to be a no go, and finally he decided to spend his time constructively by falling back on an old holiday tradition that was uniquely his, though he hadn't done it in years. Before he'd done it to be annoying or amuse the littler kids at his foster homes or Swiftins, now he'd do it as something to pass the time since he had nothing better to do, and it might piss off Barsad in the morning if he kept singing it.

And so, for the next couple of hours, Blake went about re-writing the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' outloud, changing the lyrics to fit his present predicament over and over again. It wasn't easy after all, and he did have to embellish or make a guess here and there concerning numbers, but in the end he was quite proud of his final product.

"On the Twelfth Day of Christmas
The Shadow League Gave to Me:
Twelve Hours of Agony
Eleven Gang Encounters
Ten Bruises Blooming
Nine Massive Migraines
Eight Thousand Threatened
Seven Weeks No Batman
Six Miles Bombing
Five Near Deaths
Four Concussions
Three Months to Live?
Two Knife Wounds
and Gotham City Under Siege."

After that song was done at about three in the morning Blake switched his attention to writing 'Bane, The Baldheaded Bad Guy', but fell asleep before that one could be finished.

)

After sleeping in quite a bit, which was allowed since it was a holiday technically, Blake headed downstairs with a determination to have a damn good Christmas come hell or high water. He ignored the eye rolling and commentary from Barsad too as he sang every happy Christmas carol or song in his repertoire during brunch, and then headed outdoors, thanking the powers that be that he'd been gifted with packing snow. So he built himself a family of snowmen since he didn't have any of his own, drawing the whole thing out as long as possible by making them pets as well before heading back in to get warm, eat cookies, and drink hot chocolate. Once that was done it was time to get down to feast preparations and more carol singing to annoy Barsad with, including his new version of the 'Twelve Days of Christmas'.

Manfully refusing the laugh while committing the hilarious song to memory, Barsad supervised the food preparation as a reminder of why he wasn't going to eat any more Christmas cookies. The cop had already told him what they'd be eating for dinner and the mental imagery had been enough to make him drool. He hadn't, of course, but it was a near thing.

Besides, he had more important things to think about, like how the hell he was going to get Bane back here for Christmas short of lighting the house on fire. Bane hadn't wanted to leave that morning, a child would have been able to pick up that much, and Barsad would have bet quite a lot if he had a lot that Talia was only insisting that Bane spend Christmas with her because she was aware of the bond blooming between her protector and the cop currently making them dinner. As the rumors circulating amongst their men wouldn't have been enough to move her into action he was guessing that Blake's room was possibly bugged as well. Something else he had to figure out how to deal with since if he removed or deactivated them she'd be tipped off to that fact. Dammit.

When it came to the first dilemma fate decided to finally cut Barsad a break a few hours later, thankfully, the answer to his problem coming in the form of Phillipe, who'd been sent to personally deliver a flash drive to Barsad containing information that was for his and Bane's eyes only.

The Frenchman's arrival in the kitchen was announced to Blake by way of several exclamations in the man's native language, the rapturous expression on his face as he very deeply inhaled the scents of Christmas dinner cooking making his appreciation clear even before the growl of the man's stomach embarrassed Phillipe enough that he actually got a little pink in the cheeks.

"What did he say?"

"I'm not French." Was Barsad's slightly sarcastic response to Blake's question. "But I think he likes what you're making."

"My apologies, I did not mean to-it won't happen again." Phillipe's words were for Barsad, who simply nodded to let him know he wasn't in trouble for his reaction. "I came to deliver this to you." Hastily he withdrew an envelope from his coat and held it out to Barsad.

Taking it from the younger man Barsad asked Phillipe a few questions, both men ignoring the curious looks Blake was giving them before finally giving up and going back to work, opening the oven so that he could take out the pan the turkey was cooking in and check it to make sure that all was going as planned.

It was the way Phillipe eyed that turkey one last time before turning to go that gave him the idea, Barsad all but blurting out the question of whether Phillipe would like to remain behind for dinner or not. As he understood it this was the man's last scheduled task before returning to his camp, and there was plenty of food to be had.

To say Phillipe was stunned by the offer would be an understatement, but he didn't dare refuse either.

)

Bane sat across from Talia, doing his best not to pick at the food she'd had prepared for him. He had no idea where she'd gotten their dinner from, and it did look appealing, but he couldn't help but wonder what Blake and Barsad were eating right now. They were no doubt enjoying the food Blake had made himself, home cooked and specially prepared in honor of the Christian holiday currently being celebrated. Did Blake even care that he wasn't there? He would be stupid to think so, especially after what had occurred between them after the single training session they'd hand together…but still…he couldn't help but wish that he would be missed.

The feel of his cellphone vibrating in his pocket gave Bane something else to think about, or it did until he read the message that he'd been sent informing him that one of his men, the one who'd stayed behind to guard his cop after he'd been injured by the street gang, was staying at the house for Christmas dinner. As he'd given Barsad no idea when he would be returning his second in command had decided to give him a heads up so that he wouldn't be surprised to see one of their vehicles parked outside.

Now his dinner was going to be eaten by another one of his men instead of him? One who'd been there to protect Blake when he had not?

"What has you peeved? Is something wrong, my friend?"

"One of our men is staying at the house for dinner. I dislike the idea that he is there while I am not."

"Afraid he'll steal your cop away?" Talia's smile was deceptively teasing, the woman leaning forward at his surprised expression. "What, did you think I would not notice the change in your voice when you speak of him? He's wormed his way into your affections, that's dangerous, you know." And now her expression changed, becoming much more serious. "He's a cop, Bane, he stands against us. He has no loyalty to you, and will hurt you if you give him the chance."

Well aware she was right but refusing to acknowledge that fact, Bane stated that one such as Detective Blake was no threat to him or their plans.

Talia shook her head knowingly. "You stand as a testament to the body's ability to heal physical wounds, Bane. It will happen provided one lives long enough to heal. The wounds we carry in our hearts…are another matter." Bitter, all consuming hatred showed in her eyes for a moment, changed the beautiful to the ugly and dark. "I know you, my friend, better than you know yourself at times. You care for your pet, and are ignoring the inadvertent conclusion as a result. You have destroyed his city. Killed the people he stands for without mercy. More, you have locked away his comrades in sewers or sent them to their deaths on the ice. To him you are a monster. Inhuman. Someone to be hated and destroyed. Every action he takes, every kindness or understanding he might show you, is part of his plan to end you. Do not let yourself be seduced."

"Talia…"

"I saw the irises you brought in with you, that you left in the other room. They're for him, aren't they?" Stretching out a hand Talia neatly pulled one of the long stemmed roses he'd brought her as a Christmas gift from its vase, pointing the blood red bloom in Bane's direction. "Do you think a flower will win him over, instead of making him wish to cast you back into the bitter cold? Will keep him from being repulsed by your appearance, fooled by it like so many others?" Twirling the flower like a wand Talia's voice was somehow…both biting and indulgent. "Of course not. Don't be a fool, Bane. I say this because I love you. Don't be fooled or you'll doom yourself."

In some dim corner of his mind Bane compared the feelings he was experiencing now with what he'd felt when Blake had looked had him with such loathing and distaste in reaction-or supposed reaction to the perfume from Talia's scarf. It wasn't like he hadn't thought what she'd just said, knew what she said was true…but hearing it outloud…was worse. So much worse.

"Bane."

Looking at the hand she'd placed over top of his Bane naturally shifted it under hers, linking their fingers together as he held on. She didn't care what he looked like, and had always been there for him to the best of her ability. What he did here in Gotham was for her. For love of her.

"You have nothing to worry about, Talia. I will not fail you."

Seeing what she wanted to see in his eyes Talia smiled. "I know I can count on you."

)

Hours later Bane entered the house with the large vase full of irises of every color in his hands. He'd almost thrown them away after leaving Talia's, wanting to be rid of them and all they represented. He'd gone to the famed greenhouses attached to Gotham University to see if roses had survived that he could bring to Talia as a gift…and had seen that some of the irises had survived as well somehow, his favorite flower. And he had thought that it was common in most every culture, to bring flowers to someone when you wished to court them. So he'd picked them as well and found them a vase. To give to Blake, yes, as both a token of his feelings and as a Christmas gift.

But instead he would put them in his room, breath in their perfume, stare at their beauty…and watch them decay as they reminded him each and every time he saw them that that was the truth about what he felt for the man he'd intended to give them to.

After placing them in his room Bane stashed away his coat and then went in search of the others, having seen that the vehicle his man had come in was still out front. He needed to make his presence known before turning in for the night.

He located the three in the sparsely lit room that had been dedicated to watching the garbage produced by the Western world that passed for entertainment, Blake flanked by one of his men on either side while they watched what was playing out on screen from the long leather couch. When he glanced in that direction the picture was in color which surprised him, he'd been told that 'It's A Wonderful Life' was a black and white film, but then he recognized the blond child in it and knew that the viewing choice for the evening had been changed.

When he turned his eyes back to them they were all looking at him, the screen forgotten. Both his men got to their feet and stood waiting for a signal from him, while Blake leaned out to study him from a seated position, the first to speak.

"Am I going to be happy about whatever put that look on your face?"

Keeping his voice cool Bane asked the younger man what he meant.

"Well your eyes are saying that you're upset about something…which may or not bode well for my side." Now it was Blake that shot to his feet, hope and joy lighting up his eyes. "Is it Batman? Did he get out of The Pit? Is he back?"

"No."

"Oh." Disappointment obvious Blake nonetheless asked what had happened, frowning when Bane stated it wasn't his business before pointedly dismissing him to tell Phillipe that he should head back to his camp.

"Yes, Sir." Nodding, Phillipe moved away from the other two, and then, unable to not at least acknowledge the delicious meal and company the Gotham cop had provided, the mercenary bowed his head and said good night, hoping that Blake would realize he wasn't just saying it to Barsad.

Getting the message Blake simply met Phillipe's gaze for a moment, silently conveying his good byes as he sensed that he would do more harm than good if he verbally acknowledged the other man in any way. Something was very, very wrong with Bane right now. That he wasn't being told what that something was gave him hope that his side had struck a blow somehow…but the more he thought about it the more he thought that that wasn't it at all. A rebellious act would challenge Bane…not…whatever this was.

As soon as Phillipe was gone Barsad stated that he was going to turn in as well unless Bane needed him. He had information to look over and it had been a long day.

Dismissing his second Bane waited until Barsad was gone as well before turning back to Blake, stating that the other man should go to bed as well.

"Do I have to?" Blake asked quietly, aware on an instinctual level that now was the time to step cautiously. "I haven't had a chance to watch my movie yet…Phillipe and I got talking about Christmas movies and he'd seen the first 'Home Alone' in French, when he was a kid. We wanted to see if it was different, you know the way it is sometimes with subtitles and all that. Or I could just watch it in my room." He added, the coldness that seemed to all but permeate from Bane unnerving the hell out of him.

"Stay then."

Saying Bane's name carefully, Blake asked if he would like to stay and watch the movie with him.

"I have no interest in wasting my time on American trash."

Eyes narrowing, Blake asked if Bane was talking about him or the movie, because it felt like he meant both. And while he could accept the dig towards himself, the movie was a whole other roll of film.

"You would rather be called trash then the film?"

"I spent the majority of my childhood and teenage years being called trash because of where I grew up and my lack of money. That's nothing new to me, and hell, any kid who spends years in foster care ends up feeling like trash regardless of how he or she started out. A lot of us transported our clothes from one house to the other in garbage bags for fuck's sake. So no, being called trash doesn't piss me off nearly as much as your habit of saying that everything about Western culture is evil or tainted or wrong. I hate stereotyping, period. And I bet if you watched this movie you wouldn't think it was trash…but you're not going to see it and that's your loss."

Moving in close Bane leaned in so that they were essentially nose to nose. "You would be wise not to speak to me thus."

"Well someone's got to. We can't all wear the masks you want us to."

Enraged, hating what was being implied and the thoughts attached to them, Bane made a sound that was too harsh to call a chuckle. "You fool yourself if you think I don't see the mask you wear, Detective. Mine is just more honest."

"No. Yours hides your humanity and who you are underneath. Mine…hides an anger that you understand, but most don't. And thoughts and feelings I don't want others to see, yes, I hide them…but that's human nature. Everyone has those masks. Needs those masks sometimes. This one though," Blake reached up and tapped the side of the metal mask that covered the majority of Bane's face. "This mask is just another Pit."

And having said his piece Blake walked over to the laptop he'd hooked up to the flat screen, typing away at it to access the movie he wanted, ignoring the silence and Bane's presence before taking a seat back on the couch when it was ready to go.

He didn't say anything either, when Bane took the seat beside him.

"No one angers me the way you do."

"That doesn't surprise me."