Disclaimer: I don't own the Justice League or the episode Comfort and Joy and the characters therein.

Post-Wild Cards, the Justice League has decided who amongst its members will be enjoying the holidays within the confines of the Watchtower, namely Batman and Wonder Woman. She is looking forward to spending a little alone time with her man. He, on the other hand…

Chapter 3, We Need a Little Christmas

"For we need a little music, Need a little laughter,
Need a little singing, Ringing through the rafter,
And we need a little snappy "Happy ever after"
Need a little Christmas now. We need a little Christmas now!"

Bruce's perspective-

Christmas meant so many different things to so many people – a time of celebration and joy, a day of presents and family, of fanciful decorations and children's greatest wishes and dreams all wrapped together in a flurry of anticipation and excitement.

For me, Christmas was a nightmarish reminder of all that I had lost, of all the things that I could no longer find it in myself to celebrate and rejoice in.

I was no longer an eight year old boy dazzled by the spectacle of lights and trees, anxiously awaiting the dawn of morning where I would rush downstairs, thrilled by the amount of presents laid out on the floor. I would spend those first heady moments in a tussle of ribbons and wrapping paper, eager to see just what surprise the next box held for me. My mother and father would be looking on with smiles and sharing loving glances, snapping the occasional photo to remember the moment for posterity. Laughter and love had filled those precious days, those carefree moments before my life had been stripped away from me.

I no longer had anything to celebrate, any reason to believe in the holiday and all that it represented.

My parents were gone, washed away in the blood and the sins of Gotham, the city that I now sought to protect. Regardless of any seasonal activities, I knew that Gotham would not rest simply due to a holiday. Things might grow quiet for a few days, but it was merely the calm before the storm, the inevitable post-holiday backlash stirring the city into a frenzy of crime and violence. It was a cycle that I was well used to by this point.

Therefore, I had no problems in volunteering to be one of the two left behind for Monitor Duty – the others had things to go out and do, to celebrate. Clark would return to Smallville for the Christmas season, enjoying his mother's homemade goodies and probably grinning goofily at the sight of the presents stacked under the tree with his name on them. A blind man could see that something had shifted in the relationship between John and Shayera – and I certainly was the last in the group that anyone would call blind, being a dedicated and obsessive observer of human nature and life. Those two would spend their days off enjoying their newly budding relationship. As for Flash and J'onn, I wasn't sure how they would squander their days, but it was overall unimportant, knowing that Flash would return to Central City and that J'onn would probably get dragged off by Superman into the picturesque little corner of the world called Smallville.

Unexpectedly, Diana had decided to fill in as the other member to work over the holiday season, to spend her time on Monitor Duty rather than elsewhere. The more I thought about it, however the more sense it made to me. She obviously was unable to return home to Themyscira thanks to her banishment. I knew that she and her mother had had a long discussion about our own secret relationship, but Diana was still exiled from returning to the world of the Amazons. She knew little of Earth's ways and customs, a still somewhat naïve soul in the cynical and harsh world that she had entered into, this Man's World, as she called it. Christmas was not a holiday practiced by those who had grown up worshiping the goddesses of Hera and Athena – she would have no awareness of the mindless traditions and insipid practices that occurred due to the holiday season.

For myself, I was simply content that no one had broached the idea of a Justice League holiday party – an idea I would have turned down flat and expressly forbidden. I still considered myself owner of the Watchtower, particularly considering the amount of work I had to do in order to get it funded without Wayne Enterprises stockholder knowledge.

I glanced up as a bat shrieked overhead, the sound echoing off the cave walls as I sat, entering data into the computer and musing to myself, alone with my thoughts. The silence seemed fitting with my contemplation as did the darkness that surrounded me.

For others, Christmas was a time to live in unfettered gaiety; for me, I simply wanted to be left alone.

A cloud of darkness had sunk over me, miring me within its depressing depths. I knew that this year, it could be different, that at least with Diana, there would be something to celebrate, something to be a little thankful for. But somehow, I just couldn't wrap my mind around that fact, preferring to remain isolated and brooding in the cave for now; in the Watchtower later.

Hours later, I was sitting in the exact same spot, still continuing my solitude when I heard the hiss signaling an arrival to the cave via the teleporter. Turning slightly, I saw the ebony cloud of hair that I now immediately identified with Diana, soon followed by the click of her boots on the cold stone beneath her feet. And then her hands descended to my shoulders, placing her face next to mine so that I could feel her heated breath on my cheek as she whispered, "Hello, Bruce."

The softness of her skin against mine drove me out of my misery for a moment and I turned fully, meeting her lips with mine as I welcomed her, welcomed the small break from the depths of depression to which I had sank and to which I would again return. But for now, I reveled in her strength, in the feminine temperament that she exuded, at least for now. I knew that she was a fierce competitor, a no-holds barred warrior when provoked, but in the everyday, Diana was often rather sweet, caring about the feelings of others and possessing of an intelligent and questing mind. I respect these things, especially her sweetness, a quality that I rarely made use of, preferring fierce intimidation and harsh criticism.

Pulling back, I let the kiss end softly, our lips gently breaking apart before I turned back to the screen, trying to focus on what I had been examining before Diana's arrival.

She stood behind me, but I could tell that her attention was no longer focused on me, the heat of her gaze squarely on the screen in front of me and she tried to decipher what I was currently involved in. After a few moments, I could hear the questions she was struggling to hold in, knowing that I disliked any form of aid in the city limits of Gotham, especially from my other teammates on the Justice League. The work I was involved in now though was not particularly sensitive and I appreciated another determined mind helping me to work through the information; therefore, I began explaining what I was occupied in to Diana.

Her sharp questions helped me to focus my investigations, to pinpoint exactly what I was looking for as we discussed the matter at length, delving and deciphering what we could and my respect for Diana grew as our conversation continued. I realized that, on occasion only, perhaps it wasn't a negative to pull in the opinions and mindful inquiries of others, to cement my own mind and probe the facts. At least in Diana I had a woman with both beauty and brains, the second certainly coming in handy in situations of combat and scrutiny.

Our discussion slowed and I used the silence in order to enter the information we had discovered in the computer while it was still fresh in my mind. I could scarcely make out the click of Diana's heels as she paced around the cave in a small circle, my brain utterly focused on what was in front of me rather than the woman behind me.

After inputting in all the data, I turned to find a thoughtful yet concerned expression on Diana's face, as if she was in the midst of pondering something very important while tracing out a path on the floor of the Bat-cave. Having usually done most of my important thinking while on stakeout or seated in a computer chair, I found this approached somewhat unusual but the expression was also almost adorable – that intent look, chewing on her lips, her eyebrows drawn together, and occasionally muttering something softly to herself. I couldn't resist watching the picture in front of me, particularly as this went on for several minutes.

Finally, she stopped and, realizing that I was staring at her, turned a fiery shade of red, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she caught the bemused expression on my face and the laughter in my eyes. During my work over the course of the last few hours, I had thrown the cowl onto the floor, needing to rub my eyes and occasionally waste energy by mussing my hair.

With a small, self-conscious smile, she looked at me, a question written all over her face and hesitation in the lines of her body. It was rare to see the elegant princess in this state – not fully confident of herself in any regard. She was usually so self-assured, so poised and regal that I couldn't offhand think of another time that Diana had seemed unsure of herself.

"Princess?" I asked, hoping that somehow she would find her usual strength in order to voice whatever question was on her mind.

After a moment, she smiled, without any hint of shyness or reticence, just her typical glowing grin when she was in her usual contented state. Tucking her hair behind her ears, smile teasing her lips, she easily stated, "I would like to learn about Christmas."

Immediately, my mind shut down, the implications of that statement solidifying my brain into a pool of mush, an expression of horror flooding my features as I realized exactly what my princess was asking of me. This wasn't the simple task of teaching her to fly a jet or how to perfect a martial arts move; this delved into my deepest part of my soul, into the depths that I preferred to remain untapped until Diana and I were together much longer. Perhaps a few decades or so when I would possibly be better able to express my emotions and my memories of my parents. Diana of course knew about my parents, not perhaps all of the details about their murder, but she knew enough to think twice about the question that she was putting to me. And yet, she had asked anyway, hoping that I would be able to teach her about the joys of Christmas when I now associated it with nothing but a holiday of loneliness, of the empty abyss that had once been my life.

Reading the stillness that had crept over me, Diana leapt to fill in the quiet, to explain her reasoning behind her request.

"It's my first, Bruce, and ours…and I was hoping that you could help me to understand the traditions behind the holiday, why it brings smiles and such contentment to so many faces regardless of their situations."

Pausing, she tossed her hair behind her shoulders, a beseeching look on her face as she continued. "It's an important part of the culture here and I want to understand more about it; I want to experience it firsthand."

Smiling softly and hesitantly, obviously, and correctly, taking my silence for a rejection, she continued her attempt to convince me of the importance of her request. "I've watched Flash stroll around the Watchtower with a goofier grin than usual, that silly hat on his head for weeks now as he prepares for the holiday. We've got a tree in the meeting room decorated with baubles and strings of what appear to be popcorn, ribbons adorning every spare inch of space along the hallways and pictures of rotund men with white beards hanging from every doorway."

She laughed a little, clearly picturing the scene in her mind and remembering the state of the Watchtower during our last conference, I realized that she had a right to at least be curious about the holiday. However, I was ill prepared to indulge that curiosity, the wrong person to teach Diana about the joys of the seasons, joys that I couldn't fathom much less appreciate.

"No," I told her baldly, flatly refusing to play teacher in the midst of her curiosity. She had no clue of the wound that she had opened with me, the memories that were flowing through me with her words. My parents had done similar to Flash, celebrating the holiday in the weeks prior to Christmas with songs, laughter, and the Manor had been filled with love and the true meaning of Christmas, that atmosphere of family and friends and festivities.

And now, the Manor was cold, the cave a stark replica of the ambiance that pervaded upstairs- of loss and of what could never be again.

I refused to relive that moment, to bring my heart out again simply because Diana was curious. Even looking at her saddened face, the brightness fading from her expression with every moment, every word, I couldn't help but stand firm in my decision.

"Ask someone else."

Turning, I once again faced the computer, intent on ignoring the thoughts rolling around in my head courtesy of Diana's request, never seeing the solitary tear clinging to her cheek as she entered the teleporter, lips trembling and fists clenched.

Next chapter: Good News – Will Bats change his mind about teaching Diana about Christmas? Or will she indeed turn to someone else to appease her curiosity?

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