Just a fun little chapter. This is set at approximately 5:00 am on Christmas Morning.

Warning: Some Language, Nudity, and Sexual Innuendo (nothing worse than prime time TV) . . .

Elle kicked off her slippers and draped her robe on the foot of the bed before slipping back under the covers. She looked over at the man sleeping beside her and smiled. He was so beautiful; inside and out. She wanted this to be magical and hopefully she had managed it. As best she could tell, no one in the house had known she had been up.

Of course, the house was owned by a bat; one that Dick had reminded her numerous times was incredibly paranoid. For all Elle knew, Bruce had been ensconced in a secret room watching her every move.

No, she decided. That is just too weird. And if it were true, she didn't think she wanted to know about it. She shivered, and Dick stuck out an arm; snagging her around the waist and dragging her up against him. She cuddled into his warmth with a sigh. He nuzzled her ear.

"Where did you go," he asked in a sleepy whisper.

Her eyes snapped open. He noticed?

"Nowhere," she whispered back. "Go back to sleep. You must have been dreaming."

He chuckled. "I'm not dreaming now," he spoke into her ear, causing her to shiver again. "And your feet are cold."

Elle burst out laughing. Turned to face him, she propped her head up on her hand. "You, faker! I thought you were asleep!"

"You've spoiled me," he grinned. "I can't sleep without you now."

Her smile softened as she played with a lock of his hair; twirling it in her fingers. "What do I look like to you? A teddy bear?"

"No," he told her. "More like a midnight snack!"

She eeped as Dick suddenly rolled her onto her back. He dove under the covers, pushing up his flannel pajama top she wore as he gave her a loud raspberry on her bare belly. Elle squealed, pushing at his shoulders and kicking off the covers.

"Stop! Stop! Dick, please," she shrieked, laughing.

"Bwahahahaha," Dick laughed evilly as he started unbuttoning her shirt. "I've got you now, my pretty . . . Right where I want you!"

His fingers traced a path up her ribcage as Elle squirmed frantically beneath him. Elle writhed and flailed in a futile attempt to escape, all the while laughing hysterically. The dratted man had long ago discovered all of her ticklish spots and was now taking full advantage. Her hand slapped the bedside table; knocking off the clock radio and setting it off. It began blaring Christmas music even as the lamp crashed onto the floor next to it.

"Oh, shit," Elle yelped. "Dang it!"

Dick stopped long enough to lunge over her in order to turn the noise off. Elle grunted and groaned under his weight. Unable to reach the radio, Dick slid further off of the bed; his legs waving. His fingers searched for the off button, but found the volume control instead.

"Sh! Off, not louder," he laughed. He glanced up at Elle over his shoulder. "Whoops!"

"Dick, get off," Elle gasped for breath between giggles, pushing at him. "You're squishing me!"

It shouldn't have surprised either of them when the door chose that moment to crash into the wall, and the room flooded with light.

"Unhand her, you . . . you . . . Grayson?" Damian stumbled to a halt just inside of the door; his Katana poised over his head. He blinked at the comical sight of the couple entangled on the bed. "What the hell are you two doing?"

Elle and Dick froze for all of two seconds, then Dick attempted to slide the rest of the way off of the bed rather than try to lift himself back up and crush Elle even more so with his added weight. Elle yipped and grabbed at him; attempting to keep him in place. Her hands scrambled for purchase, first on his bare back and then grasping at his pajama bottoms.

"No, Dick! Wait! Don't go," she shrieked.

"Hey! Let go," Dick yelped.

But gravity had already taken hold of him; dragging Dick the rest of the way to the floor on the opposite side of the bed from where Damian stood gaping at them. Unfortunately, Elle refused to relinquish her hold on his pants, and he slid out of them; landing on the floor nude.

Elle's eyes widened as her cover thumped to the floor. Dick's body had been the only thing hiding the fact that her pajama top had been unbuttoned and her front was completely bare, but now, even that cover was gone! She clasped his now empty flannel bottoms over her chest and rolled off of the bed after him; taking the pillow with her.

"Ow," Dick grunted.

Elle's elbow had caught Dick in the ear and her knee elsewhere.

"Damian, what are you doing in Dick's room?" Tim's voice floated to them.

"What's going on in here," Bruce yelled, stepping into the room. He blinked at the empty bed and started to move around it. "Are you two all right?"

Realizing they were about to have even more company, Dick grabbed the pillow and leapt to his feet; covering his nudity with it.

"Bruce! Stop," he hollered at the man, laughing.

It was a testament to the man's drowsiness that it had taken so long to realize what was happening, but Bruce stopped in his tracks and began backing up until he stood beside Damian in the doorway once more.

Elle hand appeared holding his pajama bottoms. Dick grabbed them, but appeared stumped as to what to do with them; to put them on he needed to drop the pillow.

Dick grinned. "You may want to close your eyes," he warned, and turned his back to their unwanted audience. He let go of the pillow and flashing them his ass in order to lift his leg into his pants. He hopped awkwardly a couple of times before stepping on the other leg, and promptly fell to the floor with a thud.

Groaning, Dick took the opportunity to turn off the radio, and then tried again to get decent. He shoved his feet into his pajama pants; sliding them up and over his bare bum successfully this time. Elle was lying on her back, breathlessly struggling to button the oversized pajama top over her breasts as she giggled helplessly at their situation.

"I don't know, Father," Damian complained, lowering his sword. "I heard Elle screaming and thought an assassin must have penetrated the house. I came to assist Grayson, but . . . But, I'm not certain . . ." he trailed off, then sighed. "Apparently, I was mistaken about the assassin."

Tim had doubled over as soon as Dick had jumped up with the pillow and they had all realized what had happened.

"Are you okay, Elle," Bruce asked, rubbing his eyes. He was having difficulty not to join in Tim's amusement.

Dick climbed back to his feet with a groan.

"Why aren't you asking me that," he grumbled; absently rubbing at his sore ear, but ignoring other aches. He dug Elle's robe out from the tangle of covers bunched at the foot of the bed and tossed it down to her. "I'm the injured party here."

"I said I was sorry," Elle's snickering apology floated to them from behind the bed.

Dick flashed her a crooked grin as way of forgiveness.

Damian frowned. "I don't understand."

Dick paused, blinking. "Oh . . . Um. You may want to handle this one, Bruce."

Tim bent over wheezing; needing to hold himself up with a hand on the door frame.

Bruce blinked, finally awake enough to grasp the situation. He looked down at his eleven year old son with a sense of trepidation.

Damian rolled his eyes, and tsked. "Please," he sneered. "I understand that! I just was surprised that Grayson was so incompetent at the task that Hamilton had to resort to screaming."

Tim howled and slid to the floor; weak from laughter.

Elle peeked up over the edge of the bed now that she was covered. Her hair was tangled and hanging over one eye. She shoved it back off of her face with the back of her hand. "We were just playing, Damian."

"Playing? You mean, like a game?" The boy's eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead. "In the middle of the night?"

She flashed Dick a grin, and then looked back at their audience with amusement. "Kind of," she admitted, hesitantly. "I was yelling because he was tickling me. I'm very sorry that we woke you. We won't do it again."

Tim snorted, now that he was regaining some semblance of control. "I came because I heard a crash," he told them.

"I sort of knocked some things off of the nightstand," Elle stated regally as she finally stood up. She tugged the edges of the robe together; biting her lip to keep from giggling again.

"Sort of?" Tim asked this, trying to milk the situation for all it was worth.

"Knock it off, Tim," Bruce nodded back toward the hallway. "This doesn't concern us. Let's all go back to bed."

Damian looked at Bruce as his father took his sword and steered him out of the room. "Father, I think you need to have a talk with Grayson. His education is obviously sorely lacking in certain areas."

Tim guffawed from across the hall before his bedroom door closed and muted the sound.

Bruce glanced back over his shoulder, smirking. "Yes, I can see that it might become necessary."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Very funny. Now, lock the door on your way out, would you?"

Bruce obliged and closed the door behind him.

Elle turned to face him. He could see by the way her lips twitched she was holding it in. His own lips twitched in response.

"I really am sorry," she repeated much more sincerely.

He waved it away. "It was an accident," he assured her; tugging her closer and untying the belt of her robe.

She looked up at him mischievously; smirking. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it all better?"

Interest flared in his eyes as he shoved off the offending robe. He glanced down, blinked, and started laughing. Elle frowned and looked down at herself curiously. The pajama top was buttoned crooked and haphazardly. She had even missed a button completely, causing her top to gap and skin to peek through.

"Probably a good thing you tossed me my robe," she giggled.

"This thing is a mess," he told her; shaking his head in mock-disappointment as he reached for her top. "I'm afraid we're going to have to undo all of these buttons and start all over again . . . in the morning."

Elle leaned up and kissed his mouth; giggling against his lips as her hands slipped beneath the fabric of his pajama bottoms to grip his butt. She pressed against him, happily.

"Is that a pistol in your pocket," Elle said in her best Mae West imitation, "or are you just glad to see me?"

Dick grinned down at her and raised an eyebrow. "These pajamas don't have pockets," he informed her. "I'm always glad to see you."

She laughed when his hands slid around the tops of her thighs and he hoisted her up, only to toss her lightly across his bed. Elle squealed as she bounced, and then slapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet. Dick followed her down onto the bed . . . most gladly!

REACTIONS?

If you don't believe something like this could happen in real life, then I can assure you that you would be wrong. (Well, minus the Katana.)