"Alfred, where're we going?" Dick's voice called out some ten minutes later.
"You'll see soon enough, young sir," the butler replied without taking his eyes off of the trail. They were on one of the back roads that made the miles of forest around the Manor accessible, and getting lost was therefore impossible, but he wanted to be the first to spot the surprise that he knew would be coming into view at any moment. "Ah-ha," he murmured beneath the jingle of the horses' bells as a flash of light came through the trees. "That ought to get them wondering..."
"Were those lights up ahead?" Tim queried as if on cue.
"You saw that too?" Dick asked. "I only caught a glimpse, but it kind of looked like headlights."
"That's not right," Bruce rumbled. "There shouldn't be anyone else on the property. Alfred-"
"Relax, sir," he soothed. "There's no danger. I was expecting those lights, even if you were not."
A beat passed. "...Oh," three tones said at once.
"What is it?" Damian pressed. "A car, so we can ride the rest of the way to wherever we're going like normal people?"
"Since when are we normal people?" Jason snorted.
"...I hate to agree with him," Tim put in, "but he has a point."
"Maybe you're not normal, Drake, but-"
"Boys," Bruce cut off the beginnings of the argument with a single word.
"...It's not a car, Master Damian," Alfred said when peace seemed to have been restored, "but I daresay you'll like it in any case. Just be patient."
"Great," a snarky comment came. "Patience is my favorite thing."
Another minute passed as they rounded a gentle curve. A thick patch of conifers blocked out all but the barest hints of light from their destination, and as a result Alfred's secret held until the last possible moment.
"...You weren't kidding when you said there was something worth looking at along the way, Alfred," Bruce commented as their first stop came into full view. "That's a nice tree."
"It is," Tim agreed. "I like the color."
"Well, you can't go wrong with Nightwing blue," Dick joked.
"Pretty sure that's not that color's actual name," Jason said idly.
"Hey! It's not Grayson's fault that the people who name colors are idiots," Damian leaped in.
"I didn't say it was, did I?"
Alfred pulled back on the reins and slowed the sleigh to a stop beside the gaily lit tree. Turning around in his seat, he surveyed the crew behind him. No one moved. "Regardless of who said what, sirs," he hinted finally, "the gifts aren't going to collect themselves."
"Gifts?" Damian perked up immediately. "Where?"
"They're on the branches," Jason answered, pointing. "The tree's too bright to actually let you see the presents, but you can see the shadows."
"Oh, yeah..." The preteen stood up and made to jump to the ground.
"Wait, please, Master Damian," Alfred bade him to halt. "...The gifts on this tree are for one person only."
Everyone looked at Dick. "Wait...really?" he asked, looking confused. "All the presents on this tree are for me?"
"The tree is 'Nightwing blue'," Tim chuckled. "It makes sense."
"I guess so, but...what about everybody else?"
Alfred arched an eyebrow. "Master Dick, I hardly have a track record of leaving people out of celebrations, do I?"
"Well no, but...wait." He considered the butler for the space of a breath. "...There's a tree for each of us out here, isn't there? Alfred, that's perfect!"
"Trees that are done up in our costume colors," Tim tacked on. "It's smart, although I don't know how you'd do one for Batman that can be seen at night."
"Clever," Bruce muttered.
"It's...not bad," Jason allowed, sounding a bit impressed.
Only Damian hesitated to give praise. "...There's really one for each of us?"
"Yes, Master Damian," Alfred nodded. "I assure you that there is a Robin tree up the road, and that every tree holds the same number of gifts. Is that satisfactory?"
The boy sat back down and turned to his eldest brother. "...Hurry up. I want to get to my presents."
"I'm going, I'm going," Dick agreed. "Keep your jacket on, little brother." Hopping down into the snow, he made his way into the light and then back out. "...Wow, that thing really is bright when you get up close to it," he said, blinking hard as he climbed back into the sleigh. "Like, painfully so."
"I'm afraid it had to be, Master Dick." Otherwise, he added silently, it wouldn't have been a proper representation of its owner. Unwilling to share that sentiment out loud, he quickly changed the subject. "Did you collect all five items?"
"Yup. I've got them all."
"Here, then." He passed back a small bag of blue velvet shot through with silver strands. "For safekeeping."
"Sweet! Thanks, this is way easier than trying to juggle everything until the end of the line."
"Not that you couldn't have managed it," Bruce teased wryly.
"Sure, but what if it's a long ride? My arms would be too tired to open the paper!"
"In regards to opening your gifts, I must ask you all to refrain from doing so until we've reached our final destination," Alfred advised. "Otherwise you'll lessen the fun."
Dick pulled the drawstring on his bag tight. "Whatever you say, Santa," he grinned. "...So who's next?"
Next was Tim, whose spruce was done up in red and gold. Strands of lights had been criss-crossed diagonally through the limbs, creating a grid of diamonds that lit the tree without making it as blinding as Dick's had been. Round baubles – again in red and gold, and featuring simple patterns of wavy lines, interlocking triangles, and tiny dots – hung at even intervals. "No question who that's for," Bruce said as they pulled up alongside it.
"You're up, Timmy!" Dick announced.
"...Wow, Alfred," Tim breathed. "That tree is amazing."
"Do you like it, Master Tim?" he looked back to ask. Receiving an awed nod, he felt pride swell in his stomach. "...Excellent. I hoped you would. Go on, now; here's your bag."
When Tim's black-and-red striped sack was full, they went on. Alfred tensed slightly in the driver's seat, uncertain of how the next stop would be received. He had exercised great caution in decorating a tree for Jason, fully aware that any perceived slight could put a damper on the evening or, in the worst-case scenario, ruin it entirely. It was bad enough that Tim's gifts had come before Jason's in the line, but every time he'd calculated which of them would be better able to wait to tear into their gifts Tim had come out on top. As if that wasn't enough, he'd had to design the elder's tree twice, as his first attempt had incorporated the use of a small amount of silver. Realizing only days earlier that the color might be construed to indicate a lesser status than Tim's gold, he'd made what changes he could without leaving the two looking identical, which would surely have been just as terrible a faux pas.
"Oooh, Jay, this one's yours for sure," Dick opined when the end result drew near. "I like it. It's fiery." Left with few options that he couldn't imagine being somehow taken as an insult, Alfred had resorted to drawing inspiration from the element with which he'd always mostly closely associated his middle charge. He had layered red lights and satiny reflective garland heavily through the bottom third of the tree, then slowly increased the spacing as he moved up. A few gold lights near the top suggested the tip of a giant flame while also placing this display firmly on the same hypothetical value level as Tim's. Holding his breath now, he waited for judgment.
"I've...never seen a tree like that before," Jason marveled slowly.
"It looks like it's on fire," Tim contributed.
"It looks awesome," Jason snapped, clearly taking the comment as a jab. "I mean...no. No, that is what I mean." His boots hit the snow. "...This tree is awesome, Alfred. I like it."
"Alfred," Dick said quietly as they watched the third set of gifts be collected, "you're a total genius."
"I was wondering what you'd done for Jason's," Bruce tacked on. "...I should have known better than to worry."
"Now I really want to see mine," Damian said impatiently.
"And not just for the presents anymore," Tim teased.
The boy rolled his eyes. "Tsk. Obviously."
Jason's presents went into a quilted red silk bag that tied with a thick golden cord, and they took off once more. Alfred could feel childish anticipation building behind him, and wondered vaguely if he was risking being 'accidentally' kicked by the boy seated behind him when it was revealed that the Robin tree was last. There was nothing he could do about it now, but he unconsciously scooted towards the front edge of his chair anyway as they approached the penultimate gift station.
The silver-clad offering to Batman shimmered ghost-like at the edge of the road. A black tree had, of course, been as impossible to make as it was unacceptable for its symbolism, but metallic gray had proved an ideal substitute. The lights were buried back against the trunk and purposefully half-obscured, but between what little glow they gave off and the partial moonlight that reflected off of an array of polished ornaments the tree was surprisingly visible. It seemed to hover, as if it might disappear into the forest without a trace at any moment, and seeing it now for the first time in the dark Alfred was pleased.
"How did you do that?" Dick gasped.
"It's like it's both lit and not lit," Jason mused. "...How did you do that?"
He pulled the horses to a halt and swiveled around to answer. "Silver fingernail polish, believe it or not," he revealed. "You simply paint half of a clear bulb with it and leave the other half untouched. It has quite a stunning effect, doesn't it?"
"Stunning," Damian smirked. "I get it."
Alfred frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
The boy sighed in exasperation. "Stunning. Because Batman stuns people instead of killing them?"
Tim groaned. "Jesus, Damian, when did you start making Dick jokes?"
"Heh," Jason guffawed.
Damian wheeled on Tim. "That wasn't a dick jo-...oh. Ugh. Drake, I swear..." He trailed off.
"I think it's great," Dick grinned. "Between you, me, and Tim we'll make the whole family punny. The laughter will never stop!"
"And then we'll all be thrown into Arkham because we're unable to stop imitating hyenas. Great plan, Dick," Jason deadpanned.
"I don't think they let you have Christmas presents in Arkham," Bruce said as he stood up and stretched. "Frankly, that wouldn't work for me."
"In that case, sir, you'd best go and get yours," Alfred said, offering him a black velvet pouch with a frosted sheen to it. "We're nearly there now; you won't have to hold them for long."
"We still have to stop at mine," Damian reminded pointedly.
"Relax, little brother," Dick urged. "I'll bet yours is the best out of all of them."
"...It better be, as long as I've had to wait for it."
Alfred was sorely tempted to point out that they didn't have to stop at the final station at all if he was going to be ungrateful about things, but he held his tongue. The impatience Damian was evincing was exactly the reason why his tree was at the end; had it come earlier in the order he was sure that the boy would have ruined the grand finale by opening his gifts under the cover of darkness and the noise of the sleigh's passage. This way, he hoped he could draw out his last secret just a little bit longer.
"...There you are, Master Damian," he announced a few minutes later. "Was that worth waiting for, do you think?"
"Dami, it's so you!" Dick exclaimed as they approached a red, green, and gold-speckled tree. "Look, it's even got little glass icicles on it!"
"Are those because you like to stab people?" Tim's joke was followed by a pained protest. "Ow! Don't hit me, you little-"
"Boys," Bruce warned for the second time since they'd left the house.
"Want me to stab you, Drake?"
"Dami, c'mon-"
"I'll bet Todd would even help."
"Damian!"
"Well, am I wrong?! Todd? Am I?"
Alfred yanked the horses to a rough stop well short of where he'd planned to pull over. "Master Damian," he ground out without looking around, "you'll be waiting much longer than you already have for the presents on your tree if you continue to make threats. Is that understood?"
Every single one of the people seated behind him had been subjected to the penalties of that dangerous tone before, and now they all fell into a nervous silence. "Well?" he asked eventually.
"...Yes," a mumble came.
"Apologize to your brother," Bruce barked.
"...Sorry."
"Master Wayne?" Alfred was inclined to let the child have his gifts, if only to preserve what lay a bit further up the trail for the others, but he would let Bruce decide.
The billionaire let a beat pass before he spoke. "If I ever hear you say something like that again, Damian, you'll be grounded for a month. Got it?"
"Yes."
"...You can pull up, Alfred."
"Very well, sir." When he'd stopped the sleigh again, he handed over Damian's flannel bag without speaking. The boy trudged away, all of the excitement that should have been in his step missing. Alfred sighed; this wasn't the way he'd wanted the lead up to their destination to end, but what Damian had said had been appalling. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, he glanced over his shoulder to see how the others had taken the outburst.
"...He didn't hurt you, did he, Timmy?" Dick asked.
"No, at least not...well. He didn't hit me that hard. I wasn't expecting it, that's all." Tim crossed his arms and stared into the darkness. "I guess he just didn't appreciate my joke, huh?"
"I think he thought you were insulting his tree, to be honest," Dick explained. "I got the sense that he was really excited about it – not that you can tell, I know – so when he thought you were denigrating it he lashed out. He was getting antsy through the last couple of stops, too, so that probably didn't help. I'm not trying to make excuses for him or anything, don't get me wrong, but...well, you know Dami."
"I imagine that this is partially my fault," Alfred contributed. "I put his tree last because of his penchant for trying to sneak peeks into gifts. I feared he would ruin the main surprise for the rest of you if he had to wait long with his presents in hand, so I pushed him to the end. It appears that I ought to have risked the suspense."
"...I'm sorry, too," Jason breathed.
Tim's eyes narrowed as he craned around Bruce to see the speaker. "What?"
"I said, I'm sorry too."
"...Jay, you didn't do anything," Dick frowned.
"Right. I didn't. I didn't say anything. What he said, though..." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "...I don't want to kill you, okay, Tim? You annoy the hell out of me sometimes, but...I don't want to kill you. Not...not anymore." Now it was he who turned his face away. "I should have said as much when Damian asked. That's all."
For several seconds the only sound that was to be heard in the sleigh was the distant hoot of an owl.
"...Jason," Tim started helplessly. "Um..."
The crunch of boots on snow saved him from having to somehow complete his sentence. Alfred would have sworn that he spied a bit of dampness beneath Damian's eyes as he reclaimed his seat, but he didn't comment on it. Dick apparently spotted the moisture as well, as he pulled the boy into a one-armed hug just before the butler returned his attention to the road ahead. "...Shall we continue, then?" he inquired quietly.
A chorus of subdued yeses answered him, and he drove on.
Author's Note: I know that wasn't exactly the most upbeat way to end a Christmas-themed chapter, but on the plus side this is now a three-part story. We'll wrap things up tomorrow with the grand finale of Alfred's surprise. For today, you can check out a picture of Dick's Christmas tree on my blog (accessible via my profile page). Happy reading!