Warning: Some Language . . .
"Are you ready for your present," Dick asked Elle quietly, as they were watching everyone enjoying or sharing their gifts.
Elle held her left hand out and watched the diamond and sapphires sparkle in the late morning light.
"I thought you already gave me my present," she smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I can't think of another thing in this world I could possibly want right now."
"Nothing?" He raised his eyebrows.
She grinned up at him. "Hey! I may be cheap, but I ain't easy!"
He snorted with laughter, and rubbed his fingers over his nose gingerly. The injury had improved miraculously overnight, thanks to the bonding apparently, but it was still a bit sore.
Elle rose up onto one knee and kissed the abused facial appendage. As she moved to sit back down, the couple noticed the sudden silence, but for the Christmas music playing softly in the background and the happy tooting of the train running around the room. They looked around to see everyone staring at them with various expressions on their faces; amusement, approval, and disgust by Damian.
"What?" Elle challenged them. "Do you have a problem?"
Most dropped their heads or resumed talking. Damian rolled his eyes and twirled his drumsticks in his fingers with increasing dexterity. The drumset was his favorite gift, and he had already asked Elle for his first lesson.
Elle glanced back under the tree. "I don't see anything," she said, wonderingly. "Is it invisible?"
"No," he promised, "not invisible; just small."
She narrowed her eyes at him and glanced back to her ring. "Small, huh? Is it more jewelry?"
"It's tucked in the branches of the tree," he hinted.
Her eyes widened in interest. She had to search for it? Suddenly she jumped up and started to climb over his long legs. He caught her before she fell, used to her characteristic clumsiness. Jason, sitting on the other side of Dick, caught her arm as well to help steady her.
"Whoa, there, princess," Jason quipped. "Be careful."
"Thanks, Jason," she said as she regained her feet. Then before he could move out of her way, Elle tripped over his legs as well. "Whoops!"
Bruce started to lurch forward to catch her as Jason grabbed for her, but suddenly, Elle was dangling in midair. Dick had leapt to his feet and caught her around the waist. She was blushing as he set her down and held her hand as she moved around the coffee table with more care.
"Good reflexes! Still got it, Dickweed," Jason complimented in his own unique way.
Dick smirked. "I get plenty of practice."
Elle stuck her tongue out at him, and he responded by playfully swatting her behind. Elle yelped and then laughed at him. "Paybacks, Dick," she said, teasingly. "Remember what they say about paybacks!"
He winked at her. "I am looking forward to it."
She stood in front of the tree, admiring its beauty. "So, where do I begin," she asked. "It could be anywhere, and this is a big tree!"
Dick sat back down on the sofa. "I would suggest systematically."
She made a face and then began to peek between the pine boughs, careful to not disturb the decorations balanced on them.
"What is she doing," Tim asked curiously as he gently set aside his hand-crafted kaleidoscope.
"Searching for her gift," Dick explained as he watched her.
"You put her gift in the tree?" Jason leaned back.
He was wearing the leather biker gloves that Elle had given him. They molded to his hands like they were made for them specifically. The leather was as soft and as smooth as butter. For not knowing him from Adam, she did a pretty good job of picking out a gift that he would appreciate. They weren't made for the Hood, but Jason would wear them whenever he went out as a civilian.
"She likes spontaneity," Dick told him, "and surprises."
They watched quietly as she moved around the tree, checking branch after branch. After ten minutes, Elle turned around and huffed.
"Maybe you should have supplied a map or some clues or something," she groused, good-naturedly.
He laughed at her pout. "You're getting warmer," he offered.
She hesitated, and then smiled at the game. Turning around she started searching again, this time at chest height.
"You're warm . . ."
Elle moved around the tree systematically. As she started toward the fireplace side of the evergreen, Dick spoke up again.
"Getting cooler . . ."
Elle stopped and moved slowly back toward the front of the tree that faced the room. She lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Dick. He smiled. Her lips quirked and she began searching again.
"Warmer . . . Warmer . . . Uh! Colder!" Elle slid back around from where she was tucked between the tree and Bruce's chair. "Better," Dick assured her.
"Okay," she said. "It's facing the front. Is it in a box? I've been looking for a box, but haven't seen anything that looked like a present."
"It has a ribbon, but it isn't wrapped," he admitted.
Bruce leaned forward in his chair and searched the tree with his eyes. He actually knew what Dick's gift was; having assisted him with it over the past few weeks. It took a moment, but then he found it dangling just above her head.
Elle turned to look back at him. "Do I need a ladder?"
"No," he grinned. His eyes kept slipping up to where it hung. Would she take the hint?
She pursed her lips suspiciously. "Will I recognize it when I see it?"
"I think so," He told her. "I think, when you see it, you will wonder how it is that you missed it all this time."
Still thinking it was jewelry, Elle asked, "Is it sparkly?" The whole tree was sparkly. That was the reason she thought she hadn't spotted it yet.
Dick hesitated. "Yyyeeessss," he drew the word out slowly.
She smirked. "I knew it," she crowed, and spun around with renewed energy.
"Gah," Damian was growing frustrated. He had spotted it several minutes before. "It's right abo . . ."
Tim slapped a hand over the eleven year old's mouth and dragged him back into his lap. Damian immediately began to squirm and struggle.
"Sh, Damian," he told the boy. "Let her find it herself!"
Damian jerked his head to the side and away from Tim's hand. "Let go of me now, Drake!"
Damian stabbed backward with his drumsticks. Had Tim been slower reacting, Damian would have stabbed him in the eye with them.
"Hey! Calm down, you little heathen," Tim yelled, renewing his hold on his little brother.
"Let go! I'm going to kill you, Drake," Damian hollered at the top of his lungs.
Like Tim would let go of him now . . . Dick jumped to his feet and went to assist.
"Damian, stop!" Bruce yelled.
But Damian was working up into a frenzy, growling about retribution. Tim and Dick struggled to contain the boy. Jason stared and tried not to laugh too hard. Bruce had just stood up to put a stop to the impromptu wrestling match when Elle stepped around the three males and sloshed a cupful of ice water into Damian face. Dick and Tim caught part of the freezing liquid and gasped as well. But it did the job. Damian halted, blinking up at her in shock.
As the boy stopped, Tim and Dick slowly let go and eased back. Elle, instead, leaned in and stroked the upset boy's face.
"Sh, Damian," she crooned softly. "It's okay, now. Calm down . . . Relax . . ."
Her voice floated in almost a sing-song pattern, and anyone could practically see the tension flow out of him.
"Why are you so upset," she asked him gently.
Damian blinked at her a moment and the huffed out an annoyed breath. "Drake clamped his hand over my mouth!"
Tim frowned. "You were about to . . ."
Elle held up a hand to silence the older boy. His defense of his actions would only anger Damian further.
"Do you know why he did that," she asked.
Damian's eyes dipped down and his cheeks flushed, this time with embarrassment rather than anger. "I was about to tell you where your gift was . . ."
"Shouldn't I have the opportunity to find it myself?"
"Yes, but you were taking so long . . ." Damian whined.
"Perhaps, but the hunt is a part of the gift, Damian. Dick wanted me to search for it and find it myself," Elle explained.
"I know," he pouted. He looked away from her and toward the fire; wiping the water from his face with his sleeve. " . . . Sorry."
"That's okay," she assured him. "I'm not mad at you for that. But you almost hurt Tim with those drumsticks I gave you," her voice hardened. "They are meant to create music; not to be used as weapons against your brother!"
"He shouldn't have grabbed me!" Damian's voice started to rise. Surprisingly, though, he didn't deny the familial relationship.
Everyone in the room tensed in preparation of handling the next temper tantrum. Elle petted the boy's hair and shushed him. Rather than take offense, Damian calmed a bit more.
"He probably shouldn't have grabbed you," she agreed. "But he wasn't trying to hurt you; only keep you from giving away the location of my present prematurely. You overreacted . . . badly."
Damian huffed and looked back at the fire.
"You'll need to apologize," she said.
His head swiveled around and he gaped at her. "But he started it," Damian groused, pointing at the older boy.
"And you took something harmless to a dangerous level. He wasn't hurting you, but you purposely tried to hurt him. That is unacceptable. You will apologize or you will be going to your room!"
Damian stared at her, and then looked past her at his father. Elle caught his face with her fingertips and brought his attention back to her. If she were overstepping her authority, no one cared to object.
"Don't look at your father," she said firmly. "You will look at me, young man!"
"But . . ."
"Today is Christmas," she told him. "Today is all about forgiveness."
"I thought it was about presents," he grumbled.
"You shouldn't make assumptions about things you know nothing about," Elle instructed him. "You will forgive Tim for grabbing you and you will apologize to him for trying to hurt him with my gift to you . . . Or you will be excused from the rest of the activities."
Damian's eyes flickered to Bruce and then to Dick before landing back on Elle's. No one was preventing her from doling out the conditions and punishment for his actions. He sighed.
"I'm sorry for trying to kill you with my drumsticks, Drake," Damian muttered.
"That's very good," Elle praised him. "Now, turn around and say it to his face."
His bottom lip stuck out for a moment, but the boy sucked it back in and he straightened his shoulders and turned. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you with my drumsticks, Drake," he repeated. "But . . ."
Elle shushed him. "Stop right there before you ruin it." She turned toward Tim, but he didn't need prompting.
"I'm sorry for grabbing you, Damian." He looked like he wanted to say more, but Tim glanced up at Elle, and closed his mouth. She smiled at him.
"Forgiven?" She asked this of the both of them.
When they nodded; Tim quickly and Damian grudgingly, she smiled. "See? And all is well. Christmas is not ruined for anyone," she declared happily. "Now . . ." Elle turned back to face the tree. "To find my gift . . ."
She gasped and grinned; scrambling to her feet and clapping her hands. "I see it! I should have been looking from over here to begin with," she said, delightedly.
Elle skipped over and pulled her gift from the tree. The 'sparkle' came from the monogramed key ring that was . . . a whistle? A gold whistle with her initials . . . And a brand new key on the end of it?
She turned around and held it up.
"What's this?"
"A whistle," he said. "Next time you're in trouble, blow it."
Okay . . . Well, duh! But that explained the whistle part.
"Look closer at the whistle," Dick instructed.
After a couple of seconds, Elle pointed to a small dot on the underneath side of the whistle. "What's this?"
"An emergency signal and homing beacon," he explained. "I'll be able to find you anywhere if you activate that."
"Really? How awesome is that," she said, fingering the tiny button. She then dangled the key from her fingers. "And this?"
"That," he said slowly, "is a car key."
Her eyes widened in shock. "Y-You bought me a new car?!"
Dick cleared his throat. "You said you needed a car. I said that it had to be reliable. That rust bucket you drove wasn't reliable . . . This," he indicated the key in her hand, "is the compromise."
Tim looked curious. "Rust bucket? What kind of car did you drive?"
Everyone present knew Elle came from money. She stood before them now looking chic and classy in her crème-colored, cable knit dress with warm navy blue leggings tucked into brown, slouch leather boots. No one could imagine her driving anything less than a Lexus.
She looked over at Tim and bit her lip. A blush stained her cheeks.
Dick answered for her. "An eighteen year old Yugo in a custom, metallic, aquamarine frost blue."
Jason snorted with laughter. "You mean a piece of shit! Oh my God, are you seriously telling me you allowed her to drive around in a crappy, used Yugo?" Jason flinched as Alfred flicked his ear in response to his language. It wasn't enough to erase the grin on his face, however.
Dick frowned at him. "No! I didn't allow her to do anything of the sort. She bought the car herself without my input. I only told her if she wanted to keep it, it had to start whenever she put the key into the ignition."
"I can't believe you gave her a choice that included keeping it," Jason was busting a gut over this one. A Yugo! The idea of a Yugo gracing the driveway of billionaire Bruce Wayne was too much and he had to place a supporting hand on his aching ribs.
"Of course, he gave me a choice," Elle snapped angrily. "It was my car, after all! We had made a deal though!"
"Why would you choose to drive a Yugo, for God's sake?" Jason gasped.
Her shoulders drew back. "I liked it," she ground out through clenched teeth. "It was a classic. It suited my needs. And it had the added benefit of being affordable."
Tim frowned. "But you could afford to buy the best cars out there!"
"Not on my budget," she told him.
Dick explained. "Elle prefers to make her own way. She didn't want to use her family's money for this. She only spends what she makes." He seemed rather proud of her for that fact, despite their differences of opinion over her vehicle preferences.
Elle bit her lip. That wasn't exactly true. She had actually cashed a bond given to her by her grandparents to finance Christmas, but that was nobody's business but her own. She could never have afforded the unique gifts she had given on her salary alone. It was a one-time deal, however, because it was their first Christmas together. Next year's presents would likely be more of a gumball machine variety.
"But a Yugo? Surely there was something more reliable that a used Yugo available somewhere," Tim argued.
Elle blew out a breath in exasperation. "I liked it!"
She was getting annoyed that no one was taking that into account.
Tim was smiling, obviously his thoughts mirroring that of Jason's, but he asked her anyway. "Alright, fine," he said. "What did you like about it?"
Elle was pouting after being made fun of, but she sighed and answered. "I like it because I thought it was cute! I even liked that God-awful color because it meant I could find it in the parking lot more easily amongst all the more common blacks, whites, blues, and red colors you normally see."
Dick sent Bruce a startled look.
She was smiling now. "But the thing I think I liked the best about it . . ." she tapered off, blushing again.
They were all interested in what she had to say now. Even Jason leaned forward as if to encourage her to continue.
"What," he asked.
"Yes, what did you like best?" Tim wanted to know.
"You guys will laugh at me again," Elle made a face with that admission.
"No, we won't," Damian promised. He sent threatening looks at Jason that promised a hellish retribution if he did.
Jason held up his hands. "I won't laugh . . ." He huffed a second later. "I, at least, promise to try not to laugh anyway."
Elle stared at him as if judging his trustworthiness.
"Okay . . ." she began hesitantly before a smile wreathed her face again. "You all will think it's silly . . . but, you see, the car had this big dent in the passenger side door."
Dick's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me," he gaped. "You liked that dent in the door? But it wouldn't even open!"
"I'll admit that I had planned to get that fixed as soon as I could afford it, but then I learned its secret, see?" Elle was smiling as if she were imparting something on the scale of who killed JFK. "To open the passenger side door, you had to lift the handle up, bump it with your hip, and then continue to lift up as you opened it!"
She grinned and spread her arms out as if she were about to sing out 'ta-da'!
Dick sent Bruce a panicked look, and raised his eyebrows as if to ask 'what are we supposed to do now?' Bruce frowned and got a faraway look on his face as he considered their options. He came to a decision. Pulling out his phone, Bruce held up a finger.
"Hold that thought," he told the room in general. "I have to take this call."
Tim and Damian groaned. Alfred tsked. "Business, sir? On Christmas Day?"
"It won't take but a few minutes, I promise" he assured them. "Wait for me," he instructed Dick with a purposeful gleam in his eye.
Dick nodded, and relaxed back. Bruce had a plan. He'd thought of a way to fix this. Dick breathed a little easier.
The truth was not that Dick had bought Elle a new car, even though that was what he had originally intended to do. He had seen for himself that she had somehow 'bonded' with the ugly, little vehicle, just like she had with Mook. And since Dick didn't trust any old garage to do the work needed to bring the car up to his standard of safety and reliability, he had brought Bruce into his plan.
Dick would do the work himself and allow Elle to keep the car that she loved.
Dick had had the Yugo towed to the manor where Bruce and Alfred had helped him transfer the vehicle down into the Batcave. It hadn't taken a day before Bruce had called up Wayne Enterprises' R&D department for some top of the line, cutting edge, technological upgrades on par with what he had in the Batmobile.
He had started to complain that he wanted to pay for all of the improvements, but when presented with the kind of materials that would ultimately save Elle's life in the event she were ever in a head on collision with a truck, Dick had relented. It had the secondary benefit of allowing Dick some quality father/son time that he wouldn't have had otherwise.
He had wanted to present the car to Elle from the both of them, but Bruce refused. This was a gift from Dick. He could have done the work and paid for it himself, but the quality of the materials wouldn't have been as great. All Bruce had done was pay the difference and gave Dick a hand when he needed it, his father had argued. It had been with difficulty that Dick had managed to swallow his pride and accept Bruce's financial help, but when weighed with the advantages gained, and the fact that Elle would have been horrified to be the subject of an argument between father and son, he agreed to Bruce's terms and been grateful for it.
They had practically gutted the vehicle to put in custom-fitted, leather seats. A new electrical system; a new suspension system; a new motor that gave the horsepower of a V8 engine in a smaller, more compact form that would fit the car body; new airbags with higher safety ratings; new anti-lock braking system; new top of the line tires; a brand-new paint job; and the thing that had nearly sent Dick into panic mode . . . Two new reinforced doors with a thumbprint keypad with remote vocal activation and alarm system.
He and Bruce had gotten rid of the passenger side door altogether! The very thing that Elle just told everyone was her favorite part of the car was gone!
But Bruce had a plan . . . At the moment, Dick couldn't imagine what he could possibly do in the next fifteen or twenty minutes that Dick might be able to stall for, but he was trusting the brilliant and capable man he knew to find a viable solution and save Christmas! He was the Batman, for God's sake! If anyone could save Christmas for Elle, and ultimately Dick as well, it would be Batman!
Bruce walked out of the living room, through the entry hall, and out onto the front steps; closing the door behind him. He didn't want anyone overhearing this.
He stared at the shiny, black Yugo sitting in the driveway with a big red bow across the hood and sighed. He couldn't fix the paint job, but there might be a way to save the day yet.
Bruce hit a four digit code on his phone that cued a specially designed emergency signal. A signal that he had never had cause to use before. He took a fortifying breath as he waited . . . twenty seconds . . . forty seconds . . . sixty seconds . . . ninety seconds . . .
A gust of wind and a sonic boom announced the arrival of the one person capable of saving Christmas . . .
"Bruce?!" Superman gaped. He had been expecting to find Batman. "What's wrong? What's happened? Where's the emergency?"
"Right behind you," Bruce told him; turning the phone off and slipping it back into his pocket.
Superman glanced behind him expecting to see an army of killer robots or an alien invasion. What he saw was an empty driveway with a single . . . Was that a Yugo? . . .vehicle sitting in the middle of it.
Maybe the threat was some kind of nanotechnology on a microscopic scale, but nothing turned up to his quick scan of the area.
"Am I missing something here? I can't locate the threat," he admitted reluctantly.
Bruce rubbed his forehead. "Nothing on a global scale, but just as devastating, apparently."
Superman looked at his friend with growing concern.
Bruce waved a hand at the car in front of them. "Dick's gift to Elle for Christmas."
Clark lifted an eyebrow. "He's giving her a Yugo? I know he doesn't make much working for Bludhaven PD, but come on, Bruce! You can afford to give the boy a loan to give his girl a decent vehicle!"
Bruce sent him a look of disgust. "Don't be ridiculous! Dick's perfectly capable of buying her a decent car, but the truth is, she already owned this one. It was a broken-down pile of screws that wasn't worth the cost of towing it the scrapyard, but apparently Elle loved this thing. Dick wanted to fix it up and give it back to her."
"I still don't get it," Clark frowned. "You called me away from Christmas morning with Lois and my parents in Smallville with an emergency beacon that you have ever refused to use in all the time I've known you just to look at a crappy car that Dick refurbished?"
He did a quick scan to make certain that this really was Bruce Wayne and not some kind of elaborate trap set by their enemies, but unless there was someone else in Gotham that looked this much like Bruce Wayne, but also had the skeletal plates and pins garnered over the years by Batman, this was the real deal.
"Look, Dick put a lot of time and effort into making this the perfect Christmas gift for Elle, and we just discovered that the thing she like about the car more than anything else was a ridiculous dent that had been in the passenger side door that required a little finessing in order to be able to open it."
Clark looked at the pristine passenger door facing him. "Huh. And . . . he fixed it."
Bruce blew out a breath, and watched it crystalize in the cold air. "Yep. He fixed it."
"And you need me because . . ." he asked, dragging out the last word.
"I need you because the new doors are a specially-reinforced steel/titanium alloy that I cannot just kick in. At least, not without breaking my foot. Given time, I could have replaced the dent, but not before Dick is supposed to bring her out here and gift her with her now dentless car." Bruce shoved his hands in his pockets. He wished he had taken the time to grab a coat out of the closet on his way out, but hadn't been sure how much time he had.
"So . . . Can you help?" Bruce finally looked over at his friend.
Superman's lips turned up at the edges. "You sent out an end-of-the-world emergency beacon so that I could save Dick's ass for Christmas by kicking his girlfriend's car door?"
Bruce's eyes narrowed, and Clark noted that the batglare was just as intimidating from Bruce as it was his counterpart.
"Okay, okay," he held up his hands in surrender, still grinning. "You only had to ask."
Superman walked over to the car and studied it a moment; using his X-ray vision to analyze the molecular structure of the metal alloy used and the internal structure of the door itself.
"Apparently," Bruce said, walking down the steps to join him, "Elle could open the door by lifting the handle, bumping it with her hip, and then lifting as she pulled on it. Does that help?"
"Without knowing exactly how strong a woman she is, it won't be easy to get this right with one try," Clark admitted. He pursed his lips as he bent down and ran a hand over the smooth, mirror-like finish. "This might crack the paint job."
"That's a risk, yes," Bruce nodded. "Can it be done?"
Clark frowned as he considered the question. "I think so."
"Before she comes out here," Bruce asked with impatience.
Clark laughed. "I think so," he said. "Although I can't guarantee it will work exactly as it did before, you understand."
Bruce sighed. "I doubt even you could replace the original door in the time we have left. Of course, having one metallic, aquamarine frosted door on a black car is just as unacceptable as a completely black car is without the desired dent."
"Right," Superman grinned at the image Bruce's words created.
"Do your best," Bruce told him.
"Right," he repeated and took a step back.
Superman narrowed his eyes; using his X-ray vision to help him determine the best place to hit it. He raised his boot and kicked the door. There was a crunch as the extra-strong metal alloy buckled under the Man of Steel's onslaught. A large dent appeared in the door in the shape of a boot.
"I may be mistaken," Bruce said dryly, "but I'm pretty sure the original dent wasn't shaped like a foot."
Clark rolled his eyes. "Smartass." He kneeled down and used his thumb to smooth away the outline of his boot print. "It may not be an exact match, but this should do the job. You want to try it out for yourself first?"
"Good idea," Bruce said. He had already been moving forward to do just that.
Bruce lifted the handle, but the door was stuck.
"So far, so good," he murmured. Still holding the door handle, Bruce bumped the door with his hip and lifted up as he pulled out. It stuck a little, but still opened for him.
"Ta-da," Clark sang out, amused.
Bruce lifted his eyebrow as he glanced at the hero. "Needless to say, I'm stronger that Elle. Do you have time to stick around for a few more minutes? In case, it needs an adjustment."
Clark looked at Bruce's watch. "Well, Lois and my parents are waiting, but they understood that the emergency could take a little while. I could hang out for a bit. How are you going to explain me?"
"Elle knows who we are," Bruce replied. "She wouldn't be surprised that I know you. She understands that you and I are both members of the Justice League, after all."
Clark nodded. "So, you want that I should hang out right here, or . . ."
Bruce looked up at the roof. "Hm, maybe it would be better if you stayed out of sight initially . . ."
Clark followed Bruce's line of sight. "Got it." He began to rise.
"Give me five minutes . . ." Bruce called to him and headed back inside.
Dick looked up when Bruce reentered the room. At his nod, Dick sighed and relaxed. He hadn't realized how tense he had been until this moment. He rubbed the back of his neck and stood up.
Holding out his hand, Dick beckoned. "Are you ready to see your gift?"
Elle gave a little squeal of excitement as she put her hand in his. She wanted to see what Dick picked out for her.
Everyone piled out to the front door. Dick glanced at Bruce once more. A subtle nod reassured him.
"Close your eyes," he told her.
Following his instructions, Elle allowed Dick to lead her onto the front steps. She shivered, but it was as much from excitement as it was from the wind. She felt rather than heard the others troop out around her. The family was almost creepy silent, but then Elle felt Damian bump against her free side and lean against her. Her free hand slid down to squeeze his shoulder.
Dick stared at the dent in the door with awe. He knew exactly what the new framework was that made up the doors and much of the body. They had replaced the front bumper and the rear hatchback with other reinforced metal alloy pieces made specifically to fit Elle's car. It had been a job that would have been impossible to do without the finances and influence of one of the richest men in the world.
How the hell . . .?
He sent a questioning glance at Bruce, and watched the man's eyes go up and then meet his again. Dick frowned and looked up . . . And saw the edge of a familiar red cape fluttering over the edge of the roofline. His mouth dropped open again! How many surprises would the day continue to bring?
Superman?
Bruce had called in Superman!
Dick knew just what it took for his father to do such a thing. Bruce may not say the words very often, but he didn't have to when his actions spoke so clearly for him. Dick grinned.
"Okay, Elle. Open your eyes," he whispered in her ear.
Elle's eyes fluttered open, blinking a little from the glare of the white snow that blanketed the landscaping. Her gaze fell quickly, however, onto the black car with the bright, shiny red bow.
"A Yugo?" She frowned in confusion. Then she gasped! "My car! Oh, Dick! That's my car!"
She ran down the step and over to the car and looked in the window. It looked so different! "This is my car, isn't it?"
Dick grinned at her. "Yes, it's your car," he said, following her down. "You loved it so much, I couldn't just get rid of it. So, I brought it here and worked on it with Bruce's help."
Her gaze met Bruce's. "You helped?"
"Somewhat," he admitted. "It was Dick's project, though."
Dick laughed. "We kind of got caught up in the project and it got a little out of control."
Elle looked back inside at all the improvements and modifications that had taken place. "I would say so."
"Do you like it," he asked a little nervously.
She walked around the vehicle until she got to the passenger side door and saw the dent. Her face lit up once more, and her grin was blinding.
"You kept the dent," she squealed.
Dick coughed. "Um, yeah, we kept the dent."
She ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she gushed. "Thank you for this! I love it!" And then she kissed him, mindless of their audience.
When they came up for air, Elle smiled at him. "But I love you even more."
She moved back to the car and tried opening the passenger's side door. She lifted the handle, gave it a bump with her hip, and then lifted as she pulled. It stuck. She tried it again, tugging harder. It remained stuck.
"It won't open," she complained.
"Um, it's probably because of all the other work done on it and maybe the paint job that is making it stick?" He smiled, sheepishly. "I can fix that."
She tried it again with no success.
Turning around, she asked innocently, "Maybe you could ask Superman if he could tweak it before he leaves?"
Dick's eyes grew round. "What?"
Elle laughed. "Was I not supposed to notice the sonic boom and the sound of crunching metal that floated in through the windows?"
"The windows were closed," he countered.
"You heard it. We all did," she said, good-naturedly. "You fixed the door, didn't you? Superman tried to put it back, but was too efficient."
"You'd make an excellent detective," Bruce admitted. "You can come on down," he said, casually.
Elle looked up to see Superman floating down in front of her. She hadn't seen him since Metropolis. She felt a blush rise when she thought of how silly she must have appeared to him.
"Merry Christmas," Superman greeted her.
She smiled. "Merry Christmas . . ." her breath caught, and she blinked. "Mr. Kent?"
It was Superman's turn to blink. "What?"
"I didn't catch it in the excitement of the other evening and with all the noise in the club, but now it is apparent . . . You are Clark Kent!" Elle blurted.
"How . . .?" Superman glared at Bruce and Dick, but they were both shaking their heads. They hadn't told her.
Elle was suddenly abashed. "Oh," she looked around. "I just assumed that everyone here knew. I'm sorry."
"Who told you?" Clark demanded. For all the Bats were forever harping on the necessity of keeping one's identity secret from even one's allies, they were certainly quick to blab his. True, Elle was about to become a permanent part of the family, but still . . .
"No one told me," she assured him quickly. "I could just tell by your voice . . . And well, honestly, have you never considered the benefits of wearing a mask while in costume? A pair of glasses isn't exactly much of a disguise."
Superman gaped at her while Bruce snorted and grinned. "What did I tell you, Clark?"
Dick, Jason, and Tim were laughing while Damian stared confused.
"No one likes to hear 'I told you so', Bruce" Clark grumbled, but he was smiling a bit. His ma had told him much of the same thing when he moved out of the house at nineteen, before he began his career as a superhero.
"Master Kent," Alfred interrupted. "Would you care to join us for a spot of tea?"
"Ah, no thanks, Alfred," Clark told him. "Lois and the parents are waiting."
He moved back to Elle's car door and opened it easily. After a moment, his eyes glowed red, and a beam of the color shot forth into the workings of the machine. He blew on it to cool it, and then closed the door again.
"You want to give it a try now," Clark suggested.
Elle stepped in and repeated her actions and this time met with success as the door opened on cue. She grinned and gave Clark a quick hug, pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek. "Thank you, Mr. Kent, for your assistance."
He sighed. "You might as well call me Uncle Clark, too, now that you're a part of the family."
"Uncle Clark?" Somehow she doubted that was a literal title.
"Dick's been calling me 'uncle' since he was ten," Clark admitted. He began rising in the air. "And now that you know, why don't you get my email address from Bruce or Dick and send me a copy of that picture you took in Metropolis a while back? I told Lois about it and she's been dying to see it!"
Dick moved over to stand beside Elle; slipping his arm around her shoulders as they waved.
"Tell Lois and your parents that we hope their Christmas is merry as well," Dick said, noncommittedly.
Superman saluted, and then in a flash of red and blue, he was gone.
"Wow! That was amazing," Elle grinned.
"It sure was," Dick agreed. "Now," he said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together for warmth. "Do you want to take the car for a spin around the neighborhood?"
"And when you get back, perhaps you might consider sharing that picture with the rest of us as well," Bruce smirked.
Dick groaned as Elle laughed.
"No worries," she told him. "I have it as my screen saver on my phone."
REACTIONS?
Reviews appreciated! All I want for Christmas and all that . . .
For all you who might recall, Elle's car was not originally a Yugo. This was suggested to me by Poohbearmorris a while back and I couldn't resist it! Especially since it's rated as one of the worst cars of all time. LOL! And here is Dick and Bruce struggling to make it not just reliable but cool as well. Well, it might not be as easy to spot in a crowded parking lot, but I'm sure Elle appreciates the effort that was made on her behalf. And at least they got the dent back! :D
And we aren't finished yet. I anticipate one more chapter to go in order to finish the holiday up!
Here's a hint to the future: New Year's Eve will bring a most anticipated introduction between Elle and one ex-girlfriend! ;D I know some of you have been asking for this.