Too bad this didn't coincide with the actual holiday season . . . Oh well. This chapter takes place on Christmas Eve.
Warnings: Some language . . .
"Merry Christmas!"
Elle set down several gifts on the entry table in order to exchange hugs with Bruce and Alfred as Dick carried their luggage into the foyer. She turned to greet Damian and Tim as Dick started the rounds of hand-shaking and back-slapping that was the norm of male-dominated households.
"Have you been good, Damian," Elle asked the boy. "Or will Santa be leaving you a lump of coal this year?"
Damian snorted and scoffed. "Santa Claus is a myth perpetuated by adults in order to bribe their offspring into good behavior, and one that is supported by greedy toy companies eager to make a year-end profit."
She stared at him like he was an alien. "Really," she said dryly. "Who talks like that?"
Damian tilted his head, confused. "I do."
Dick wrapped his arm around Elle's waist from behind. He grinned at Damian from over her shoulder. "We warned you, did we not?" Dick reminded her while nuzzling her ear. "Damian's not your typical eleven year old."
She shrugged, effectively dislodging her amorous fiancé. She appeared unconcerned. "Well, myth or not, Santa will be visiting the manor this year, so don't scare him into leaving coal," Elle instructed Damian seriously. "My sources tell me it is a good year for presents."
Damian blinked at Elle, unsure how to take her absolute certainty. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "What sources?"
Rather than answering, Elle just smirked at him.
"Tim, do you want to help me carry in the rest of the presents," she asked the teen who was standing nearby.
"Sure," Tim moved to the door cheerfully.
Damian frowned. "Drake would only drop them," he declared. "Here; I'll help."
Dick grinned as he grabbed the back of the youngster's sweater as he tried to follow. "Hold up, Little D," he laughed; enjoying the boy's poorly hidden enthusiasm. "I need your help with the luggage."
The boy scowled at the suitcases and overnight bag. "You could easily handle these by yourself, Grayson. But Drake's innate clumsiness could ruin the Christmas presents."
"Weren't you just scoffing at Christmas only moments ago?"
"No," Damian denied. "Only about the absurdity of the Santa myth."
"Sh!" Dick slapped a hand over the boy's mouth. "Didn't Elle just warn you not to scare the big guy away? Insults over his existence tend to do that, you know."
Damian pulled his brother's hand away from his mouth. "That's the most idiotic thing you've ever said, Grayson! I've never believed in something as childish as Santa Claus. Please tell me that you haven't played the fool before! That is something I'd expect from Drake, not you."
"But of course I believe in Santa, Damian, and so does Bruce and Alfred," Dick proclaimed expansively. He winked at the two men Damian's head as the boy spun around, horrified.
"Father, no! Please, say it isn't so!" At his father's calm nod, Damian peeked at Alfred. He had gained a grudging respect for the servant over the months he had known him. "Surely not you, too, Pennyworth!"
"But of course, Master Damian," Alfred lied smoothly; going along with the jest. "Saint Nicholas has been bringing presents to good, little boys and girls for centuries!"
"Centuries . . ." Damian repeated. "Do you hear yourself? Nobody lives for centuries, let alone gives out presents to children around the world. What you are talking about sounds like magic!"
"You've never heard of the magic of Christmas," Dick inserted.
"He's never brought me a gift before," the boy announced, unconvinced.
Bruce tilted his head as he looked at his son. "Why would he bring gifts to someone who professes not to believe in him? It isn't as if you've celebrated the holiday before this year."
Damian stared at the men around him as doubt crept into his eyes. What his father said made a kind of sense, even if Grayson and Pennyworth's declarations did not.
"What's going on," Elle asked as she walked back in laden with brightly-wrapped presents and Tim on her heels.
Dick turned as he answered her. "Oh, Damian just said that believing in Santa is . . . Ow! Hey!" He glared down at Damian. The boy had just kicked his ankle.
"Stop dawdling, Grayson," he said. "I thought you wanted help carrying the luggage upstairs." The boy picked up one of the suitcases. While it wasn't too heavy for him, it was cumbersome. "I assume that you two will be sharing a room like the last time you were here?"
Dick and Elle exchanged glances, blushing slightly. Dick flicked Damian's ear as he moved past him.
"Hey! Watch it," Damian yelped. "What was that for?"
"You're not supposed to notice stuff like that yet, Little D," Dick told him. "Or at least not in public settings."
"This isn't public," Damian grumbled. "This is family . . . Well, except maybe for Drake."
"Damian," Elle warned gently. She frowned at the younger boy.
A splash of color stained Damian's cheeks as he dipped his head. "Come on, Grayson," he called, trudging toward the stairs with his burden. "Quit lagging behind."
Dick winked again and followed the younger boy in the direction of his old bedroom.
"You care to explain what that was all about?" Bruce moved to take the bulky gifts from Elle's arms.
"Dick mentioned that Damian hadn't had much of a childhood, so I decided to give him one," Elle pursed her lips as she looked in the direction the boy and Dick had just disappeared.
"One," Alfred commented, "that includes the wonders of Christmas, I assume."
Tim shuffled the presents in his arms for a more secure position. "Good luck with that one. Damian's not one for fairy tales, I'm afraid."
Elle tilted her head at him curiously. "What fairy tales," she asked.
Tim's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Saint Nicholas, maybe?"
"Saint Nicholas existed," she told him.
Tim grinned at her teasing. "Okay, yeah, fine . . . Saint Nicholas existed, like, in the Middle Ages. But you are talking about Santa Claus!"
"You don't believe in Santa Claus, Tim?" Elle looked at him sympathetically, as if she had just discovered he had grown up homeless or something.
He laughed in exasperation. "Come on, Elle. Do I look like I'm six to you? Of course not."
Elle promptly removed the packages from Tim's arms and set them precariously on the already over-burdened entry table. She then turned and hugged him. Startled, Tim stood gaping at Bruce and Alfred with his arms still out in surprise. After a moment, almost hesitantly, he hugged her back.
When she retreated a minute later, Elle dabbed at her eyes and sniffled. Tim stared at her, incredulous. Where did Dick find her? She couldn't seriously still believe in Santa Claus! It was too unbelievable . . . She must be messing with him, he decided.
"I'll do what I can for you, Tim, but I can't guarantee that he will go easy on you," she told him. "You might end up with coal tomorrow."
Elle picked up the packages. "Where can I put these, Alfred?"
"Oh, I do beg your pardon, Miss Arabella," Alfred started. "If you will follow me?"
Bruce stepped out. "That's alright, Alfred. I'll show her the way. I believe you have Christmas cookies in the oven?"
Now that the front door was closed, everyone seemed to become aware of the delicious aroma wafting through the manor.
"Quite right, Master Bruce," Alfred nodded. "If you'll excuse me?"
Elle grinned. "To save the cookies? Of course, Alfred! They smell wonderful!"
Tim picked up the rest of the packages from the table and scrambled after Bruce and Elle, still marveling at the mysteries of the woman who was about to become a permanent member of the family. She had to be teasing him, he decided firmly. She had to be . . .
He was almost sure of it.
They were gathered around the island in the kitchen, each with a glass of milk or a cup of cocoa as they sampled Alfred's Christmas cookies while they were still warm.
"So, when is Jason getting here?" Elle was looking forward to meeting this mysterious brother again.
Silence greeted Elle's question. She looked around, confused. Surely, the antagonism she had observed didn't extend into the holidays . . . This was Christmas! It was a time for family! Christmas wouldn't be the same if one of the family members were missing.
"Why would Todd be here," Damian asked, frowning.
"Because Christmas is all about family and Jason is family," Elle explained, exasperated.
"It's bad enough that we have to have Drake here," Damian sniped. His head bobbed when Dick gave him a little shove.
"Be nice, Dami," he told him.
Did she really need to explain this? Even Aiden came home for the holidays. It made for a rather subdued and tense-filled Christmas, especially after her mother had died. But as much animosity was between them, they had always managed to get through the day with only a few barbs. They managed mostly by just ignoring the other. Even though she had been spending Christmas itself with her grandparents for years, she always had an early Christmas with her father and brother before she flew to Italy.
Dick slid his arm around her waist. "Um, Jason is welcome to join us, but he tends to prefer to do his own thing."
Elle glanced up and saw a flash of pain in Dick's eyes. There was more to this than they were letting on. Damian was hostile to the idea, she noted, and Tim looked uncomfortable, but Bruce and Alfred shared Dick's sadness that Jason was missing. This wasn't acceptable. Not at Christmas!
"Did you make certain to invite him the other night?" She wasn't letting him off the hook.
"Elle," Bruce interrupted. "Things have happened that Jason has a hard time forgiving. We would love to have him join us for the holidays, but . . ."
"Speak for yourself," Damian grumbled low, but not low enough.
Bruce glared at his son, and although Damian ducked his head, the look on his face did not include shame. Elle narrowed her eyes at him. Was it jealousy? The boy certainly felt it for Tim, she noticed, although those two seemed to be dealing with one another well enough.
"But," Bruce continued, "Jason would not come."
"I find that hard to believe," Elle said. "Perhaps he just needs a little more convincing. Does he have someone else to spend the day with? A girlfriend, perhaps?"
Dick chuckled and raised his hands. "Don't look at me! I was as shocked as anyone when he agreed to show up for the proposal. He didn't exactly confide in me all the intricacies his life has taken lately."
"But he did agree," Elle insisted. "And that shows that he still cares for family."
"He also left almost immediately afterwards," Tim pointed out. "And you and Dick were the only ones he spoke to."
"That's not entirely true, Master Timothy," Alfred spoke up. "I shared a few words with him before he departed."
"But he refused to speak to the rest of us," Tim insisted.
"Did you try to speak to him," Elle asked the teen.
Tim's eyes widened slightly at that. "Jason and I get along even less well than he does with Bruce."
That surprised her. For all of Tim's little remarks about Damian, he seemed to be the mellowest out of all the brothers that she could see. There was very little about Tim to take offense to. But then again, she hadn't spent more than a few days in the company of Dick's family and wasn't privy to all the history that was there. It wasn't as if she herself was open with Dick about her and Aiden's relationship. He thought he understood the emotions that ran between her and her brother, but he had only glimpsed the surface. That river ran deep and could easily drown the unwary.
"An effort needs to be made," she insisted. "Forgiveness doesn't come easy, but it won't come at all without at least an open invitation."
Dick glanced at Bruce. The billionaire met his gaze and shrugged.
"You can try," he murmured before turning on his heel and heading off into the interior of the house.
Elle bit her lip. She looked up at Dick, worriedly. "Did I just stick my foot in it," she asked.
The smile he gave wasn't encouraging. "Don't worry about it," he told her. "I'll give Jay a call. The worst that could happen is that he won't pick up."
"The worst that could happen would be if he showed up," Damian grumbled.
The disturbing part was that no one disagreed with him.
Elle sat between the brothers and munched on cookies while Dick went outside to call Jason. No one spoke as they alternated between watching Alfred clean up the kitchen and begin preparations for dinner, and watching Dick through the window in the back door. When the door opened several minutes later, everyone sat up straighter. Tension ran through the previously warm and inviting kitchen as they waited for the verdict.
Dick ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "He's not picking up. I left a couple of messages, but who knows if he'll get them or not."
Tim and Damian slumped in their stools in relief; exchanging small smiles, but Elle bit her lip; thinking.
"What if you swung by and asked him personally," she asked hesitantly. "It is always harder to turn down an invitation that is given in person."
Tim snorted, then blushed at the look Alfred gave him. "You don't know Jason, Elle. He's as perfectly capable of refusing an invitation in person as he is over the phone."
"Well then, I guess I'll just have to go with you," Elle declared.
Four pairs of startled eyes stared at her.
"What?" She stared back. "Christmas is worth the effort," she said. "Family is worth a heck of a lot more."
She hopped off the stool and headed toward the door and the foyer beyond.
"Come on, Dick," she called over her shoulder. "We should have enough time to get Jason and be back before dinner if we hurry. We'll do our best not to be late, Alfred! Set an extra place for Jason, please!"
"She sounds confident that you'll convince him," Tim commented.
"You aren't seriously going to take her to Jason's apartment, are you?" Damian set his unfinished cookie back on its plate. "Do you even know where he lives?"
Dick pulled his eyes from the door where his fiancée disappeared over to his brothers. "I know where he lives," he confirmed. "And if anyone would be able to convince Jason to come home, even if it were only for Christmas, it would be Elle. Cross your fingers. We'll be back in an hour."
The trio watched as he walked through the door back to the main living area of the house. They looked at one another once more.
"Do you think they'll succeed," Tim asked no one in particular.
"It's a stupid superstition, but just in case, I'm crossing my fingers," Damian declared.
Alfred looked at the boy with a raised eyebrow. "You are hoping that Jason comes, Damian?"
"Of course not," Damian huffed. "I'm crossing them in hopes that he slams the door in their faces."
"That is likely what will happen, but . . . Superstition or not, I'll think I'll join you," Tim said, making a show of crossing his fingers on both hands. "Maybe he's out of town visiting a friend."
"A friend?" Damian scoffed. "This is Todd we're talking about, you know."
Alfred quietly crossed the fingers of his left hand while he continued to wipe the counter with his right. He hoped also, but his hopes ran opposite of the two boys sitting at the island. It might make for a stressful Christmas, but he would love it above all things if everyone could be home for the holidays this year.
REACTIONS?
This is for those who have been begging for Jason to show up . . . I think I might have found a way to include him in the story earlier than I had planned. And more than just a cameo appearance this time!
Will Elle be able to charm Jason? Will Christmas be spoiled? Or will it be the best Christmas at the manor than had happened in years?