Thank you for being so patient with me. I finished up another story, and can now turn my attentions back to Dick and Elle for the holidays. (Oh, I still have other things I'm working on, but I am determined that we shall finish up with Christmas, and hopefully New Year's BEFORE the same holidays arrive for us!)

These next few chapters are all about fun and family. Enjoy, because the New Year will be bringing angst and great excitement and some MAJOR trouble with a capital "T" for the newly-engaged couple. - The better for you (and Dick and Elle) to appreciate the happier, more carefree moments!

As usual, I do not own Batman or any corresponding characters. Those are DC's (and maybe Warner Bros.). There are two songs mentioned below. I own neither of them and give credit where it is due in the A/N following the chapter. Look up the videos I mention to go audibly with the chapter.

Only the original character, Arabella "Elle" Hamilton, (and a few other OCs) belongs to me and the twisted, quirky plot . . . Not sure what DC would think of it. (Don't think I'll bring it up - They might sue me! :P Yikes!) Forgive any editing mistakes I've might have made. I usually reread this thing several times before publishing, and again afterwards, and still several things will manage to slip by me.

Warning: Some Language (Damian, of course! Gotta love him!)

"Honey, you don't need to take it so hard," Elle told him.

Suddenly this didn't seem like it was so great of an idea. Damian was standing up and trying to walk out of the living room. How was she to know? Everyone could usually sing a little bit. His voice wasn't all that bad . . . Okay, maybe it was. Elle sighed.

"It's more than likely that you just don't know the songs well enough," she explained. "If you listened to music more, learned the melody and the words . . ."

Tim was laughing. Elle frowned at him, but he was doubled over and didn't see her. So she leaned over and punched him in the thigh. She must have hit him just right because he yelped and grabbed his leg. It didn't stop his laughter, but it did tone it down somewhat.

Dick was holding onto Damian's arms and had extended his legs so he couldn't easily get past him stuck as he was between the couch and the coffee table.

"Grayson, release me," Damian was demanding. His face blood-red in embarrassment or anger; Elle wasn't completely sure which it was.

"Damian, please," Elle begged. Her evening was threatening to end in disaster.

"Damian, calm down," Bruce interjected finally. "Discovering something you cannot excel at in your first attempt isn't the end of the world."

Elle jumped at that. "That's right. You just need to work at it a little bit."

"So that I can sound like a dying bullfrog more effectively," Damian snarked.

"You don't sound like a dying bullfrog," she assured him. A bullfrog, maybe, but not a dying one. "That was really too bad of Tim to say that."

She sent the teen another disapproving look. This one Tim acknowledged by ducking his head.

"You know," Elle began, thoughtfully, speaking to Damian. "I watched you dance."

Damian shot her a horrified look that she brought that up in the presence of others. She grabbed hold of one of his hands and drew him back. It wasn't easy. He tried to pull away from her, but between her and Dick, he realized he wasn't going to go anywhere without drawing blood; something he knew that Pennyworth would frown on. Blood was difficult to get out of the carpet.

"No, really," she continued. "You had rhythm. You could hear the beat easily. You don't have a tin ear. Of that, I'm certain."

"What's a tin ear?" Damian asked, almost as if the question was drawn out against his will.

"That refers to people who are unable to pick up the melody and usually cannot discover the beat of the music," she explained. "You can. Perhaps your voice could use some work," she tried not to wince at that fabrication, "but I would bet that you could do some other things that are musical . . . Just different."

Actually the idea had some merit. Damian could keep a rhythm. He could hear the beat. He could dance pretty well already, but she knew that his dancing skills would develop just fine with more practice.

"In fact . . ." Elle's mind raced with possibilities. "I'd bet a thousand dollars that I could teach you to Rap."

"Rap?" Tim snorted.

Elle punched him in the arm without looking at him this time. Her attention was on Damian.

"Shut up, Tim," she snapped.

Dick looked at her with a new appreciation. "That's a good idea!" He turned back to Damian. "Not everyone can Rap, Damian," he said, knowing that the boy would be attracted to the idea of doing something that most people couldn't do or at least couldn't do well.

"What's Rap?" The boy looked between them suspiciously.

Bruce groaned.

"What's wrong with Father," he glanced behind him at his father collapsing back into his armchair and noted the pained look on Pennyworth's face.

Dick laughed this time. "Not everyone appreciates Rap."

"Only because a lot of the words are angry," Elle said. "But Rap can also really enhance a song when done right. And then there is Beatboxing . . ."

Tim slapped a hand over his mouth. For someone who swore he didn't know much about music, the older boy was proving to be a rather large annoyance, scoffing at these terms.

Damian's eyebrows rose as interest sparked in his eyes. "I could Beatbox," he said with utter confidence.

Elle grinned. "It is another way to enhance music," she told him. "Unfortunately, it doesn't actually include hitting anyone or anything."

The interest seemed to dim somewhat at that.

"Well . . ." Elle kept smiling. "I wasn't going to give you this until tomorrow, but under the circumstances . . ."

Damian tilted his head, curious. He was just so adorable, Elle thought.

"Come on!" She stood and walked around the coffee table. "A lot of families give their Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve."

"But the tree is here." Damian waved at the enormous fir that looked like it was decorated within an inch of its life by some kind of Christmas tree professional, but really it was just Alfred.

"It wouldn't fit under the tree," Elle told him in a conspiratorial tone of voice.

Damian's eyes widened slightly. It took a bit of self-control not to laugh at him, but Elle knew the boy wouldn't appreciate her humor at that moment. He had had enough of being embarrassed for the day.

Everyone stood to follow the two out the door; curious now as to what Elle had given the boy. Even Dick was curious. Elle hadn't told him about this. Only Alfred knew because Elle had shown up a few days before to set it up. The long-suffering butler looked resigned to it now. Elle was positive she could change his mind about the present soon enough. Dick had told her how quick Damian was to pick up new skills, after all.

She led everyone to the music room. When she looked behind her, it was to a slew of surprised faces. Seriously, how could anyone be surprised that Elle would find a way to give a musical gift?

She grinned at Damian. "Are you ready?"

Damian was staring wide-eyed at the door, not looking at her, but he nodded his head with the most enthusiasm he had shown all evening. She threw open the doors with dramatic flair and strode in with confidence. She knew that Damian would appreciate this instrument over all others.

The family trooped in behind her and Elle picked up a set of sticks off of the snare head and twirled them in her fingers expertly as she turned to gauge their reactions. Bruce and Tim gaped in astonishment while Dick nodded and grinned at her. She knew he would see the wisdom of her choice. She looked at Damian lastly. His was the only opinion that actually mattered.

He was frowning, but in a curious way. "What is it?"

Now it was Elle's turn to gape.

"I-It's a drum set," she exclaimed. "How could you not have seen one of these before now?"

"Strict upbringing, and he's never been interested in games like Guitar Hero," Dick explained.

"If it doesn't contain violence, the little demon-child gets bored," Tim added.

Damian glared at Tim for the nickname, but didn't contradict him. He didn't see the point in wasting his time in worthless pursuits. Everyone was looking at him now, expecting him to snort and sneer at the gift and ruin Christmas. While Damian didn't see the point in the holiday, being unfamiliar with it, He decided that if it garnered presents, he would endeavor to refrain from his usual sarcastic remarks.

Elle was looking at him hopefully. He glanced at the sticks in her hands, intrigued.

"How does it work," he asked, deciding to withhold judgement until he had gathered more information.

Elle grinned and twirled the stick, flipping it into the air and catching it. Damian tilted his head as he considered his brother's fiancée. She was a mass of contradictions, he thought, remembering how she had managed to sprain her ankle tubing a few weeks ago and then losing Gordon's ring down the heating duct in Grayson's apartment.

"You hit these," she said, indicating the variety of drums. "With these," she held up the sticks. "And you do it in a rhythm."

She inserted a USB and picked up a remote and moved around the mass of drums and brass plates and sat on a small stool behind them.

"It makes more sense when you have a music track with it. This song is one that I removed the drum track from so that I could practice." Elle smiled a little apologetically to Bruce and Alfred. "It may not be to some of your music tastes, but it has some challenging drumming that makes it good as a demonstration."

"I'm sure that if you like it, Elle, it will be fine," Bruce assured her.

Dick snorted, causing Damian to glance in his direction. He waved his hand as he grinned. "You may regret that," he chuckled. "Elle has some very broad range tastes when it comes to music."

"I thought you liked much of the same music as I do," Elle frowned at him.

"Much of it," Dick told her. "Not everything, but a lot of it. I've never heard you play the drums before, though. Just the piano and the ukulele. How many instruments do you play anyway?"

Elle smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "You've seen a few of them in the apartment."

Dick raised his eyebrows. "But I've never heard you play most of them."

"Yet," she promised him. "You've never heard me play most of them – yet. I play more, but I don't have the room to keep them all, and my walls aren't exactly soundproofed. My neighbors would get annoyed if I played instruments at home if I couldn't control the volume."

"Then how do you practice," Alfred asked her politely.

"Mostly, I arrive to rehearsals a couple of hours early and practice a bit until the rest of the band arrives." Elle played with her sticks a bit. She couldn't help herself. To not play and twirl was like sitting in a rocking chair and not rocking.

Damian looked around and found a second set of what looked like Elle's drum set but it had pads instead. "What's that," he asked pointing.

"An electronic drum set," she answered. "I thought that maybe we can play together sometime as you learn. Also, if your practicing bothers Alfred, you can turn the volume to this set down."

Damian appeared interested in the process, thankfully.

Elle lifted the remote. "This song is called "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana," she told them.

Dick grinned and covered his mouth. None of the others appeared affected by this announcement, meaning that none of them had ever listened to Alternative/Grunge-style music yet. An electronic guitar sounded. Bruce, Alfred startled to the sound, but Tim was smiling, leading his brother to think that maybe he knew a lot more about music than he was letting on. Elle kicked in with the beat a few short seconds later.

Damian tilted his head watching as she hit the drumheads with unanticipated force. He found his foot tapping out the beat with her. His mouth quirked up. He liked the song; especially as the beat picked up and it grew louder. It was powerful music.

And Elle was actually remarkably coordinated. The demonstration was . . . impressive.

Damian leaned into Grayson's side. Dick bent to hear Damian's question.

"Is this beatboxing," he asked. He could do this. He was sure of it.

"No," Grayson told him. "This is drumming. Beatboxing can sound similar to this, but you make the sounds with your mouth and body."

Damian's eyebrows shot up. "Are you serious?"

Dick grinned. "If Elle thinks you can Beatbox, then you can."

"What about Rap?"

"That is more like talking but the words often rhyme and are spoken with a rhythm," he explained. "Ask Elle about it later. She can provide you with some examples."

Damian was quite for a moment, contemplating what he was learning as he listened to Elle's performance. He nodded and looked up at his brother.

"I can do this," he announced with conviction.

"I know you can," Grayson assured him.

Elle finished her demo with a dramatic flourish. Standing, she took a bow.

Damian's lips turned up at the edges. "You're gift is acceptable, Hamilton."

Elle glanced at Dick. He laughed, still clapping. "You're a hit!"

She grinned.

"Yes, but I'm wondering if Alfred and I will regret this by the end of the week," Bruce added dryly.

"I promise, we'll start on something not quite so . . . intense," Elle told the older man, good-naturedly.

After Elle showed Damian a few basic rhythms that he could practice until his first lesson, everyone moved back into the living room for more hot chocolate. Dick hadn't taken a turn yet, and Elle already had a plan for a way to end the evening.

"A duet?" Bruce repeated her announcement.

"I say, that sounds like a marvelous idea," Alfred enthused as he brought in fresh hot chocolate and cranberry scones.

Tim leaned in to snatch a scone. "What song are you going to perform?"

Instead of answering, Elle flipped to the correct song and handed Dick the microphone. He turned it off and tossed it onto the couch cushions.

"I think I can managed to sing loud enough for everyone in the living room to hear," he commented as the music started. Although, they faced their audience, the couple turned enough to sing to each other.

"I really can't stay," Elle sang, glancing up at Dick, coyly. Dick followed in his lovely baritone; his part overlapping hers slightly: "Baby, it's cold outside."

Elle: "I gotta go away." Dick: "Baby, it's cold outside."

Elle: "This evening has been . . ." Dick: "Been hoping that you'd drop in."

Elle: "So very nice." Dick sang his part; picking up Elle's hand in his own; chafing it lightly: "I'll hold your hands; they're just like ice."

Elle: "My mother will start to worry." Dick: "Beautiful, what's your hurry?"

Elle: "My father will be pacing the floor." Dick: "Listen to that fireplace roar."

Elle: "So, really I'd better scurry." Dick: "Beautiful, please don't hurry."

Elle: "Well, maybe just a half a drink more." Dick: "I'll put some records on while I pour."

Elle: "The neighbors might think . . ." Dick: "Baby, it's bad out there."

Elle looked down at her hot chocolate with an amusing confused expression on her face, and sang: "Say, what's in this drink?" Dick: "No cabs to be had out there."

Elle: "I wish I knew how . . ." Dick: "Your eyes are like starlight now."

Elle: "To break this spell." Dick sang as he mimed swiping a hat from her head: "I'll take your hat! Your hair looks swell." Elle laughed and said, "Why thank you."

Elle resumed singing, wagging her finger at Dick: "I ought to say 'No, no, no sir." Dick scooted a step closer as he sang: "Mind if I move in closer?"

Elle: "At least I'm going to say that I tried." Dick sang with a pout: "What's the sense in hurting my pride?"

Elle: "I really can't stay." Dick: "Baby, don't hold out!"

Together, they dipped their heads toward one another and sang together: "Baby, it's cold outside . . ."

Elle pushed Dick back slightly and narrowed her eyes at him, saying, "You're very pushy, you know?"

Dick laid a hand on his chest and tried to look innocent as he answered her. "I like to think of it as opportunistic!"

Elle started singing again: "I simply must go." Dick: "Baby, it's cold out there."

Elle sang with a laugh: "The answer is no!" Dick sang as he implored her: "But baby, it's cold out there!"

Elle: "The welcome has been . . ." Dick: "So lucky that you dropped in."

Elle: "So nice and warm." Dick pointed dramatically at the window as he sang: "Look out the window at that storm!"

Elle: "My sister will be suspicious." Dick took her hand and brought it to his lips: "Gosh, your lips look delicious!"

Elle pulled her hand back, but Dick held on as she sang her part: "My brother will be there at the door." Dick gazed dreamily at her: "Waves upon a tropical shore."

Elle: "My maiden aunt's mind is vicious." Dick repeated a previous line as he leaned in as if he were going to kiss her: "Gosh, your lips look delicious."

Elle stared at his mouth as she sang starry-eyed: "Well, maybe just a cigarette more." Dick sang inches from her lips: "Never such a blizzard before."

Elle glanced at their enraptured audience, shrugging her shoulders helplessly as she laid a hand on her cheek and declared, "And I don't even smoke!"

She continued singing as she tried pushing him back: "I've got to get home." Dick: "Baby, you'll freeze out there!"

Elle: "Say, lend me your coat!" Dick laid her hand against his chest, and pointed to the window again; singing: "It's up to your knees out there!"

Elle: "You've really been grand." Dick: "I feel when I touch your hand."

Elle: "But don't you see . . .?" Dick held his hands out imploringly to her: "How can you do this thing to me?"

Elle touched a finger to his chin as she sang to him: "There's bound to be talk tomorrow." Dick clasped his hands over his heart; hamming it up: "Think of my life-long sorrow . . ."

Elle: "At least there will be plenty implied!" Dick: "If you caught pneumonia and died!"

Elle: "I really can't stay!" Dick: "Get over that old out!"

Both leaned in and sang together; holding the last note out: "Baby, it cold outside . . ."

Elle heaved a huge sigh and looked at him, her hands on her hips as she smirked. "Okay, fine! Just another drink, then."

Dick laughed and threw an arm around her shoulders. "That took a lot of convincing," he declared.

They bowed together as the music slowed to an end.

Everyone was on their feet, applauding wildly and laughing. Tim whistled.

Alfred was profuse with his praise, shouting, "Bravi! Bravi!"

"That was wonderful," Bruce smiled. "You two must have practiced quite a bit beforehand."

Damian wore a half-smile; after all, it wasn't him up there making a fool of himself. In his head, he might have admitted that they were pretty good together, and kind of humorous, at that. He'd never admit it out loud, although he still stood and clapped with the others. He could be polite when the situation called for it, despite what Drake might say.

The night ended not long after, with everyone waving good night at the doors to their bedrooms and calling out 'Merry Christmas'.

Damian walked into his room, playing with his new drumsticks; twirling them as he had seen Elle do downstairs. He was thinking that they might also make a decent weapon when one went flying out of his fingers, rolling across the floor and under his bed.

"Damn," he muttered, getting onto his hands and knees to retrieve the errant stick.

He turned and sat on the floor; leaning back against his bed. He twirled his sticks again, feeling a ridiculous amount of triumph when he kept hold of them this time. Pursing his lips, Damian switched his position and began practicing that rhythm Elle had showed him earlier on the carpeted floor. It made a hushed sort of sound, but his ears were sharp enough to know that he had gotten the rhythm correct. He continued it over and over, gaining speed as he gained confidence.

Damian bet it would sound great on the drum set. Much better, in fact, than on the floor. The idea of sneaking back down to the music room flitted through his mind.

The room is partially soundproofed, he thought to himself. No one would be able to hear him unless they were standing in the hallway outside of the door.

He waited until he thought everyone had enough time to get into bed before easing his door open. His head popped out and his eyes searched the other doors for telltale light shining from underneath.

All the lights were out.

He closed the door silently. He thought he heard murmurs and laughter coming from Grayson's room. Doubtless the two were talking about the evening. His eyes narrowed. They had better not be making fun of his pitiful performance!

He would show them! Damian would master this drum set and be victorious over Beatbox and Rap, and then no one would laugh at him again. Especially not Drake!

As he moved silently down the hall in the direction of the stairs, his drumsticks in his hand, Damian flirted with the idea of shaming Drake the next time a music contest was suggested.

REACTIONS?

I ended up rewriting this. I hope it was worth the extra wait . . . (Last Chance has reached 35,000 views as of 11/30/15! Thank you!)

The song "Smells Like Teen Spirit," as performed by Nirvana, was written by Nirvana frontman, Kurt Cobain; bassist, Krist Novoselic; and drummer, Dave Grohl. It was from the album "Nevermind" and recorded at Sound City Studios, Van Nuys, California. It was released in September 1991 under the label, DGC, and produced by Butch Vig. Look up the video on YouTube as performed by Meytal Cohan to get a feel of watching Elle on the drums. (No, Elle doesn't resemble Meytal in anything other than music style. I just liked Ms. Cohen's video and want to share it. It will bring that part of the story to life and you can better imagine her audience's reaction.)

*Remember - Elle's music is eclectic! She likes and perform it all - She just likes Jazz best.

"Baby, It's Cold Outside" was written by Frank Loesser in 1944 and performed with his wife at a housewarming party. (Cute, huh?) In 1949, he ticked off the little woman by selling it to MGM to be used in the movie, "Neptune's Daughter". It's been recorded numerous times. The version that I used as inspiration is the duet by Idina Menzel and Michael Buble' from her Christmas album, "Holiday Wishes". Look this video up and listen to it while reading the part with Elle and Dick.

Idina's voice is a bit higher in pitch and "sweeter" than what I imagined Elle's voice to be. I see her with a slightly deeper and smokier voice, but she (as a Siren) has a tremendous range of several octaves, and can even hit pitches higher than the human ear can perceive. Whales, Dolphins, Porpoises, and (LOL!) Bats, however, love her . . . ;D