Twas the Night before Christmas…
And all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Well, Bats are nocturnal. Christmas Eve is winding to a close as the midnight hour grows closer, and each family member has broken off, spending it with people they love.
Despite the time, the family is very active; Bruce and Selina talk about their unexpected gift, Jason and Ivy sneak down to the Batcave, and Dick and Harley get into some Christmas mischief of their own. Gotham is at peace tonight, for once.
Blackbat dove across the rooftops, her breathing coming through her mask in fast gusts of steam as she ran. She'd already stopped several crimes in progress, and for the first time in a while, she was having fun.
Because he was there.
Six times already tonight she'd beaten him to crime scenes and solved his cases for him, leaving the perpetrator behind. The strapping Asian detective didn't stand a chance.
She didn't know why she was doing it, exactly. To be honest, being around her family and all of the gooey soap-opera romance and gossip- 'who's pregnant', 'who's sleeping with who'... it all made her sick. She'd missed the action of the field among all of their love lives tied together. At the same time… she knew what else it made her feel. Lonely. This stupid game with the Detective was just to pass the time.
Now, she was on her way to another scene, a mugging in progress in uptown Gotham. She'd heard the Detective radio that he was in the vicinity, and she wasn't about to let him get ahead of her. She dove over an alleyway and somersaulted to a landing, her boots skidding in the gravel on the rooftop. Blackbat looked down.
There he was, interviewing the man who'd been attacked. She narrowed her eyes and listened.
"...keys, wallet, watch… All of my groceries…" the victim looked down. Blackbat cocked her head and scanned the road. just outside of the streetlight was a torn grocery bag, champagne splattered in the snow from a shattered bottle, bread everywhere from a ripped open loaf. Her eyes fell on the victim. Minimal damage to his person, yet he was big. No way a mugger would pick out a six-foot-three man with shoulders like a hockey player to steal food from. And it was even less likely that said huge man wouldn't put up a fight.
"And can you describe him for me, please?"
"Sure. Uh, leather jacket, black beanie, kinda thin faced guy. He was wearing work coveralls under the jacket. And he had on a bright red scarf. real ratty thing."
"All right, Mr. Farrens, I'm going to ask you to-"
Blackbat was about to turn away when she saw someone creeping around the Detective's vehicle.
Someone wearing work coveralls and a ratty red scarf.
She dove just as the man leapt out from behind the car with a gun, and the bullet ricocheted off of her heavy bulletproof cape. The victim stood and swung at the detective. Blackbat swept her cape behind her as she launched into a flying kick at the assailant's face, taking him down in a couple short blows. She whirled to help the detective, but he was already cuffing the decoy victim, and he stopped to stare at her.
"Holy shit," he breathed, and she cocked her head, the black lenses of her mask eerie and empty. "I thought you were… you're not Batman," he watched her, and she stared at him for a moment longer. He was cute.
Get a hold of yourself, Cassandra. she thought. You sound like Barbara.
In an instant she'd turned and fired a grappling line at the building across the street, disappearing into the night. She took off running across it's sloped roof.
You enjoyed the chase while it lasted, she shrugged it off. What was the point? It'd never work out anyway. That was why when she saw Jason and Ivy together… it never bothered her. She and Jason had a physical encounter, only once. Okay, more than once. Damn he's good.
Blackbat took a deep breath, stopping on the ledge of a building to assess her surroundings. She felt content again, unseen in her black suit against the midnight backdrop of the dark clouds. Gotham shone before her. She was near Arkham, in fact, the building wasn't far off. She glided silently across the gaps between buildings, stopping on the one closest to the gated entrance to the grounds. Creepy, she thought, as she looked at the hospital. Very spooky.
The gates creaked open and she looked down, and then smiled behind her mask. She charged her cape and dropped into the street, and Damian looked up in surprise. She stared at him for a moment. He must have been visiting his girl. Oh the Wayne boys and their criminals…
"Care to join me?" She asked after a silence. Damian broke into a grin and put his mask over his eyes.
"I was way ahead of you," he smirked deviously, stashing his backpack with his motorcycle after digging his cape out, and pulling his shirt off to reveal the gold R emblazoned on his red tunic.
"Try to keep up, Boy Wonder," Blackbat grappled to the roof, and Robin followed.
"So you'll have to let me know if any of this has ever happened at the station," Barbara said, walking back into the living room. She set the fresh popcorn on the couch between her and Sam as she settled back in. Sam laughed, taking a handful.
"Well so far, really nothing," he told her, pointing the remote at the screen and clicking on the first episode of the second season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, "but they swear you to secrecy when they give you a badge." He smiled at her as the episode buffered.
"Yeah well, secrecy goes out the window when you're the daughter of the Commissioner and dating a cop," she took some popcorn and glanced up at him, the TV reflecting in her glasses.
"I will admit to Coke and Mentos but nothing more." He adjusted the volume as the show started. Barbara giggled and pulled her legs up onto the cushion beside her, smiling a little. She leaned her head on Sam's shoulder. Sam glanced at his phone when it vibrated; he chuckled. "One of my friends on the force says one of the Bats is following him."
"Hey, don't look at me," Barbara laughed, wrapping a hand around his bicep. "I'm right here. I can't say the same for the others, nor will I. You keep your secrets, I'll keep mine."
"I am good not knowing," he assured her. "I know more than is good for my job already." He flashed her a smile before popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
"You would be one of the first people that doesn't want to know all of the secrets of the cowl," she pointed out, resting her chin on his shoulder so she could look at him. "Maybe that's what I love about you," Barbara smiled.
"Are you sure it's not my dashing good looks and Netflix account?"
"Those might have something to do with it," she laughed lightly, still smiling at him. She cocked her head a bit, and her red hair fell over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Sam paused the show, "if you and the show are both distracting me, you win hands down every time."
"I'm not distracting you," she defended, but she couldn't keep the smile completely off of her face.
"Then you are very bad at not distracting a person," he told her, brushing her hair over her shoulder. Barbara looked away, feigning innocence as she took her glasses off and wiped them on her shirt. She replaced them on her nose and grabbed the remote out of his lap, pressing play again and ignoring him.
"Okay," Sam turned back to the TV, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head, "but if you keep distracting me, we're turning it off." Barbara narrowed her eyes and held the remote away from him, biting his ear.
"This is one fight you won't win, Batgirl," he warned, grinning.
"I'll bet you you won't turn it off," she whispered, kissing his cheek, still holding the remote out of his reach.
"Well both you and the TV can't be turned on, so you're going to have to pick one," he told her seriously.
"Well it seems to be working so far. If you can get the remote, you get me," she giggled, kissing his earnest lips playfully. He pushed her back against the couch cushions by her shoulders, leaning over her.
"Are you challenging a Gotham police officer?" he asked, his voice a whisper as his eyes shone looking down at her.
"Batgirl answers to no one," she giggled, beaming up at him.
"Luckily I don't see Batgirl around anywhere." He grinned. "Just my girlfriend, but I have a feeling she doesn't answer to anyone either."
"You've got that right, Boy Scout," she quipped, and in an instant had wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed on his chest, reversing their positions. Her scarlet hair fell down around his face and she waved the remote at him. "You still haven't won."
"I've got a strategy," he assured her, running his hands along her hips.
"I can handle whatever you throw at me," she countered, still smiling.
"Are you sure?" he asked, holding up the remote. "Because I swapped them, and you have the sound remote." Barbara's eyes went wide and she stared at the remote in her hands.
"How the hell-" She sat up, straddling his hips, and gaped at him. "Okay." Barbara smiled again. "That was a turn on."
Alfred examined the computer screen in front of him. He knew that Bruce knew he had it and probably wasn't sure how to use it, but Tim had shown Alfred enough. He'd connected him to the Batcomputer through a secure line, for one. And showed him how to track their cell phones. Bruce and Selina were together, as were Tim and Stephanie in the mansion. Jason- he could only assume Ivy was with him- had snuck down to the Batcave. He wanted to go scold him, but it wasn't his business. Besides, the boy wasn't doing any harm, anyway. Alfred trusted Ivy. And if he wasn't going to go break Tim and Stephanie away from each other, he certainly wasn't about to intrude on Jason and his girlfriend. Alfred frowned disapprovingly.
Damian and Cassandra's tracers had met not long ago, and he was glad they were together. Of course he knew both were perfectly capable of holding their own, but he always felt better when they went out in pairs. Dick and Harley were returning from their home in the city, and Barbara was at home. Everything seemed to be going as right as it could be.
Alfred turned at a scratching sound on the other side of the room, and he got up, going quickly to the door.
"Stop scratching, you'll ruin the bloody woodwork," he snapped, looking down at the tiny Blue Heeler sitting in front of the door. "And I suppose you're waiting to be fed, am I correct? Ah well, come on. Wally, was it?"
The dog yipped excitedly and jumped up, running down the hall towards the kitchen. He slid to a stop, hitting the wall, and then nosed his way through the door. Alfred chuckled.
"I once met your namesake, you know. You're a lot like him," he said quietly, glancing over his shoulder as Titus and Clark came into the kitchen. Alfred poured the dog food in their bowls, and they all ate sloppily. Wally sniffed at Titus's bowl, and Titus growled. Wally's hair stood and in a moment the two had erupted into barks; Alfred shouted at them over the noise until he finally grabbed Titus's collar and smacked him over the nose with a newspaper. The dogs quieted quickly.
A short mewing sound brought Alfred's attention to the two cats standing expectantly at the counter, and he opened cans of cat food. Looking around at the dogs, Alfred sighed.
"Master Damian, I swear, if you bring one more animal home…"
He rubbed his forehead and walked back out of the kitchen, down the dark hall to his bedroom. He closed the door behind himself and pulled out the various packages and gifts that he'd bought for his family, smiling down at them. He groaned as he sank to the floor, and then got to work wrapping them, labeling each one with the according names; Bruce, Selina, Tim, Cassandra, Dick… Even Ivy. Just because she was a guest didn't mean that she wasn't going to get a present. He'd had no idea what to get her, so he'd just picked up a small package of Ivy seeds at the Greenhouse. She didn't strike him as the type to enjoy material belongings.
As he worked, Alfred signed each one 'from Santa.' It was a habit that he'd had since Dick's childhood. Bruce had never been the type to believe in things like that. In fact, one year he and Alfred had sat by the fireplace, and an earnest, twelve-year-old Bruce had kindly explained to Alfred how the illusion of Kris Kringle was just that- an illusion. Alfred smiled at the memory.
Then when Dick had come along, it was all magic and wonder. He could not even begin to fathom how the presents had gotten there the first Christmas he spent with Bruce and Alfred. Bruce had laughed a lot that year. He used to smile more, Alfred thought sadly, his pen pausing over the tag on Stephanie's gift. He doesn't laugh like he used to. Like he used to when it was just Dick… Before Jason had died. Before he'd truly seen the battlefield. Before all this hardship. Alfred missed the boy he'd known, and no amount of pride in the man that he'd become could fill that hole. Not completely.
In the days when Dick was still so young, when Bruce was still so young; he'd seen a lot of Thomas Wayne in Bruce. A lot of joy. Since then… well.
Alfred couldn't help but think about the past year, all the screaming in the mansion; in pain, in anger, in terror… He stood, carefully, carrying all of the packages in a laundry basket to the parlor. Dick used to sleep on the couch there. Jason did too, in anticipation of the following morning. Alfred carefully placed the brightly wrapped gifts under the tree and smiled as he stepped back. The tree beside the fireplace was always Martha Wayne's doing. Alfred looked at the clock on the mantelpiece as it chimed a quiet midnight, and his eyes turned up to the painting of the couple and their young son, his eyes so full of light and hope.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Wayne," Alfred said quietly, resting a hand on the mantlepiece.
"There," Dick whispered quietly, standing up, the bassinet finally complete next to the bed. He ran a hand through his hair. "I can defuse a bomb, but that was hard." Dick laughed quietly, sitting down on the bed beside Harley. He pulled the blanket away from Haly's face a bit, smiling down at her sleeping contentedly in Harley's arms. "She's looking better every day," he whispered.
"I think she also cries louder too." Harley smiled down at her. "That's okay," she whispered to the sleeping baby, "I still love you, but thank you for finally sleeping." She carefully laid Haly in the crib. She tucked her in and watched her. She groaned. "I just want to keep holding you, but I also really want to sleep."
Dick stood and stretched, yawning. He walked to the bag that he'd brought from their house, digging around and messing up all of the clothes that Harley had folded. "I really don't want to leave her in there either," he agreed.
"I don't think it's emotionally stable how much I love her." Harley flopped face first onto the bed. "She's the best Christmas gift I've ever gotten," she mumbled into the covers.
"I don't know," Dick shrugged. "I got you a pretty kick-ass sweater. You just haven't opened it yet," he yawned again, crawling into bed beside Harley, not bothering with the covers. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"Shhhh, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that and act surprised later." She lifted her head off the bed and looked at the bag. "Pajamas. So. Far. Away." She reached her arm out before falling back against the bed. Dick laughed.
"Here, let me help you," he smirked mischievously, helping her undress. He tugged his t-shirt over his head and put it on her, ruffling her hair. Dick smiled and gently took her glasses off, putting them on the bedside table. "Any better?"
Harley wiggled her body back and forth. "It didn't fix everything. Jeans are uncomfortable."
"I'll fix that too," he laughed, sitting up and unbuttoning her jeans. He pulled them off gently and then his hand moved back up her leg, coming to rest on her hip as he kissed her gently. "There. Better now?"
"Yup." Harley smiled against his lips as she kissed him again. "But you know what would be even more comfortable?" She leaned her head on his arm, one corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk. Dick laughed as he kissed her again. His shirt smelled like his cologne.
"I have no idea," he whispered, smiling.
"No clothes!" she cried in whisper, her eyes wide as she giggled. "But that's just a personal preference." She smiled against his shoulder.
Dick laughed and leaned his head up, looking over at the nightstand. He smiled at the digital clock and then looked down at Harley. "Merry Christmas," he kissed her cheek. His lips moved on from there, down her neck.
"Don't tell me," Harley breathed, her hands twisting in the band of his pajama pants, "you're my secret Santa."
"Minus the beard and the belly," Dick laughed. "Never could grow a beard. If it got long it didn't look right," he mused with a smile, leaning down to kiss her gently again.
"Don't try," Harley advised. She ran her hands up his back, her fingers tickling the back of his neck. "But I have a question I'm hoping you can answer," she told him, trailing one finger along his bottom lip.
Dick exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. He caught her hand and kissed her fingertips. "Ask away," he breathed. She grinned slowly.
"Am I on the naughty or nice list?" She leaned up suddenly and kissed his bottom lip.
She heard the satisfying sound of Dick gasping in surprise. He nearly bit his lip, catching himself in his habit before he did. "Definitely the naughty list."
"Damn." She kissed along his neck. "I was hoping for a nice stocking stuffer." She gently nipped his earlobe. Dick closed his eyes, fighting the urge to moan.
"After what you've done this year?" He smiled, leaning back from her for a moment. "Well, I suppose something can be said for the good you did too." His voice was still quiet and low, and he leaned down, biting her lip gently before he kissed her with dizzying passion. He held himself above her with one arm, the muscles taut and powerful, holding his weight as his other hand traced feather-light along her underwear at her hip. He smiled and kissed her again. Harley wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning.
"Does that mean Santa's little helper gets to come out and play?" Her fingers tangled in his hair. Dick laughed, and Harley covered his mouth to keep him from waking Haly. He grinned into her hand. It seemed like ages since they'd laughed like this. Been this happy. Taking her hand away from his lips, Dick kissed down Harley's neck. His hands moved up her waist, his fingers pausing every now and then to trace a scar lovingly. He kissed her collarbone gently.
"Well I do have a package to deliver." His breath on her skin caused goosebumps to rise on her chest, and one hand moved away from her torso to run down her smooth leg around his waist. Dick smiled against her skin.
"Oh really?" She tossed her head back, breathing heavy. Her fingers running through his hair caused goosebumps to raise on the back of his neck. "I've always wanted to see the North Pole. Just call me your ho ho ho."
Dick laughed, and she had to cover his mouth again, suppressing her own giggling. He pulled her shirt over her head and leaned down to kiss her neck, and she could feel the bulge in his pajama pants against her hip.
"You know," Harley gasped, her hands pulling at his hair as he kissed down her chest, "according to the story, nothing is supposed to be stirring."
"Then this time, try to be quiet so you don't wake Haly," he smirked, pausing to kiss the C-section scar on her stomach. His hands held her hips on either side with the confident grip of an acrobat, and Dick looked up at her, grinning like he had on the day they met, and so many times after.
"I'm not the one who keeps laughing loudly," she countered, pulling his face back up to kiss her. Dick sighed happily into her kiss, his fingers lacing with hers and pulling her hands above her head. He bit her lip gently.
"Then stop making me laugh," he kissed her cheek softly, his lips lingering there.
"You know you don't want that," she teased, her lips brushing against his. One of her hands moved to play with the waistband of his pants. He caught her hand and kissed her slowly. His hand holding her other wrist above her head loosened, and he laced his fingers with hers. Dick lifted his hand to stroke her cheek as his lips moved passionately against hers. He finally gasped and broke off the kiss, what felt like too soon, and he nipped at her bottom lip gently. A contented sigh escaped his lips.
"No one makes me laugh quite like you, Harles." Dick pressed himself against her, his thumb hooking under the lacy waistband of her panties under her belly button. He smiled and whispered near her ear. "Now let me return the favor."