seriousfic

Okay, so apparently I am supposed to wait all year to post this.

Title: The All-Singing, All-Dancing Barbara Gordon Christmas Special Extravaganza
Fandom: Batman
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,519
Characters/Pairings: Barbara Gordon, Dinah Lance, Dick Grayson, Batgirl, Batman (or ghostly versions thereof): Babs/Dinah, Dick/Babs, and mention of Scott and Barda's weird Apokolips sex.
Summary: Barbara Gordon would be much more amenable to learning the true meaning of Christmas if the goddamn ghosts would just let her sleep.

Barbara was just going to sleep when someone buzzed her. The effort involved to get her glasses back on was astronomical. Finally, she managed to locate them, put them on, and open the laptop. Her closed-circuit video feed showed no one at the door. Nonetheless, she opened a line to the bottom of Dalton Tower.

“I’m going to sleep. You can go to hell.”

Normally, she wouldn’t be so short with anyone, but it was Christmas Eve and a crime spree had kept her up since Festivus and she just wanted to sleep, sleep until New Year, and to hell with opening presents or seeing relatives.

The intercom buzzed again and Barbara resolutely switched it off. She was going to sleep.

“Barbara,” a voice said.

“Lemme alone.”

“Baaaarbara,” it repeated, drawing the word out spookily.

“’m trying to sleep!”

“Barbaaaaara!”

“What!? What is it?” Barbara said, pulling herself up by the support rings.

Dinah was standing at the foot of her bed. She looked a bit more translucent than Barbara remembered, as well as being covered in chains.

“Whaddya want?” Barbara asked, feeling her head being inexorably drawn in by the black hole of her warm, comfortable pillow.

“Much,” Dinah answered. “Ask me who I was.”

“No. You’re Dinah. Really-frickin’-annoying-me-when-I’m-trying-to-sleep Dinah, but still Dinah.”

"It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellowmen, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world…”

“Oh, God, is this Dickens? This is, isn’t it? I’m having a Dickensian nightmare and I cast myself as Ebeneezer Scrooge. Oh, the gender issues that raises… that’s one for the dream journal, yup.”

Dinah planted her hands at her hips in a huff. “No, Barbara, I am not an undigested bit of beef or a blot of mustard. There is more of grave than of gravy about me.”

“Okay, so you’re supposed to be Jacob Marley,” Barbara said through a yawn. “If that’s the case, shouldn’t you be dead? Heck, Ted Kord would be a much better choice for the role. And it would give a delightful homosexual subtext to the original!”

“Oh, like I’m not. And although I am not dead in the conventional sense, I am dead to you. You don’t call, you don’t write…”

“I’m really busy,” Barbara said defensively. “If people would stop bugging me when I was trying to sleep, maybe I would be well-rested enough to send you an e-card.”

“An e-card!” Dinah shook her chains. “Woe onto you, Barbara, for what manner of friend fails even the most dubious measure; that of seeing a mildly amusing greeting card at a store and buying it on impulse?”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“I doth not know!”

“Doth isn’t Victorian, doth-ass. And what’s with the chains?”

“Oh, these?” Dinah rattled them. “These are for a photo shoot with Maxim. They want me to be fetishized and apparently the fishnet stockings and singlet I wear all the time aren’t enough. Anyway, you know the basic plot of A Christmas Carol?”

”Visited by three spirits, moral reawakening… does that make Helena Bob Cratchit? …look, couldn’t I just promise you to do some genuine genuflection in the morning and get a good night’s sleep?”

“No.” Dinah threw a chain over her shoulder like a stole. “Anyway, you’ve got an hour, do some of that ninja meditation that Bruce goes and get ready for the Ghost of Christmas Past. Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls one!”

“Wait, Dinah,” Barbara called. “Having experienced both, tell me the truth… is being married to Ollie actually a fate worse than death?”

Dinah stormed off in a huff.

Barbara slept for an hour, dreaming that she was dreaming her dream, when actually it was not a dream but she was only dreaming it so, until she was awoken by a hand gently shaken her, then really awoken by that hand slapping her.

“I am the Spirit whose coming was foretold to you,” Batgirl said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Barbara said, turning her pillow over so she could lie on the cool side. “I’d be a pretty big coincidence if someone told me a spirit was coming and a totally unrelated spirit showed up.”

“Whoa, you are grouchy. Didn’t we used to be a morning person?” Batgirl jumped up on the bed, yellow go-go boots bouncing up and down. “Time to get up, time to get up, we have epiphanies to have!”

“Yes, yes, I saw the Muppets do this. Honor Christmas and keep it in my heart all year long or whatever.”

Batgirl stopped bouncing. “Just because you know the lesson doesn’t mean you’ve learned the lesson. Come on, get up, I have to show you how fun-loving and outgoing you used to be.”

“Oh, I can see how fun-loving I used to be just fine from here.”

“But… but…” Batgirl jumped down and ran to the window. “I went through your whole past to find incidents that are not only relevant, but happened on or near Christmas! And there was a lot of material to sift through.”

“Are you calling me old?”

“Remember that Christmas Eve when Dick put that mistletoe over your bed? Remember the Christmas when Dinah made everything perfect, even though you were sure things were ruined?”

“Yes, I remember. I was there.”

“Well, you wanna relive ‘em as a ghost?”

“No, I want to sleep. Go ‘way.”

Batgirl ripped the covers off the bed. “You can’t sleep! We have time travel to do! When you were my age, you could stay up until this hour and do school and an evening date the next day.”

Barbara took a Batarang out from under her pillow. “Give the sheets back.”

“Or what? You’ll—“

The rest was lost, drowned out by the noise of the Batarang rebounding off Batgirl’s skull. Grumbling, Barbara crawled down the bed to retrieve her sheets, then pulling them back over her and went to sleep. Batgirl laid at the foot of the bed unconscious until the Ghost of Christmas Present nudged her with his foot.

“Hey Babs,” Dick said, “wanna come and know me better?”

“Isn’t it ‘come in and know me better, man’?”

“If you were a man, you wouldn’t be coming.” Dick helped her to her feet. “And now, we’re gonna pop in and visit my equally attractive, but not quite as bright, namesake. Two Dick Graysons for the price of one! Am I not the best ghost ever? Don’t even withhold judgment until you get to ghost numero tres; he’s creepy.”

“I’m not Barbara, you idiot, I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past!”

Dick started. “What are you still doing here? It’s my turn! I’ve got to show her myself, Tim, Bruce, her dad, Dinah, Helena, Barda…”

“Barda? What does Barbara care about Barda?”

“Nothing, but she and Scott are ‘ringing in the New Year’ early and just how often do you get to see that?”

Batgirl crossed her arms. “I don’t think my future self would approve of such voyeurism.”

“Oh, grow up.” Dick leaped onto the bed and shook Barbara. “Babs, wakey-wakey.”

“Five more minutes, Brucie, I don’t wanna go to school,” Barbara mumbled in her sleep.

“Y’see? She’s just not getting with the program. I think you might have to come back later.”

“What about you?”

Batgirl crossed her arms. “I still haven’t hit her with the first set of truths, so your stuff is just going to have to wait.”

“But Barda and Scott are probably having weird Apokolips sex now!” Dick whined. “Besides, you had your shot. This is my ball-game now.”

Dick grabbed a glass of water and poured it out on Barbara’s head.

“What the hell!? Aquaman, gonna kill you!” Barbara sat up to see Nightwing and Batgirl standing over her. “You’re still here? And you brought Dick?”

“Howdy,” Dick said. “We’re gonna have great fun. Conveniently, all your closest friends are having social gatherings and demonstrations of familial togetherness for you to wish you were partaking in. And Scott Free’s having sex with Big Barda, so we might be able to catch some of that if we hurry.”

“Ignore him,” Batgirl said, jamming an elbow into his ribs as she stepped in front of him. “We still have to go over your past. Remember your first Christmas after you were paralyzed? In hindsight, you’ll find it has much to teach…”

Barbara was snoring.

“Well. You can’t help but be a little offended,” Dick commented.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got KOed by a narcoleptic. Now what?”

“I don’t know. I guess we could wait for her to wake up. I know technically we’re supposed to do this all in one night, but I think one night and one afternoon would count. That still leaves Christmas evening.”

Batgirl sat down on Barbara’s bed. “You’d think she’d be somewhat interested in this. I don’t think Dinah hyped us enough.”

Dick sat down beside her. “I know what you mean. Hey, maybe we could pool our lesson.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like, I could take her to see Dick and then drop a line like ‘remember that Christmas you spent with him? Remember, remember, rememberrrrrr...’ Badda-bing, you step in, provide a little contrast, hand her back to me, and on we go.”

Batgirl considered it, ended up toggling her finger at Dick. “I like it. See, I was going to start off with a look at her life before she became Batgirl, then a Robin and Batgirl Christmas, then post-paralysis, time permitting one with the Suicide Squad…”

Batgirl went on at length, so much so that she took almost the whole hour up with her planning. She’d planned for everything, even preparing speeches to give Barbara in case of pointed questions. She’d practiced those in front of the mirror.

Barbara gave them false hope by stirring in her sleep a few times, but it just ended with her moaning “Dick…” and drooling on her pillow.

“She still has it bad for him, doesn’t she?” Batgirl said.

“Yeah. Which sucks, because I think Dick and Kory are doing a Gift of the Magi thing. She still has enough hair left over to look good with the combs he’s bought for her.”

“Oh, poor Babs.”

“She’ll be fine. She still has Dinah to fall back on.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Batgirl said, “but even the closest of friends can’t provide the same fulfillment as a romantic relationship.”

“That’s not really a problem. Trust me. Dinah and Barbara are quite a bit closer than closest, if you get my drift.”

“What?”

“Indigo Girls CD in the stereo.”

“They do good music.”

“Poster of Kara Thrace on the wall.”

“A computer nerd likes sci-fi. Stop the presses.”

“Batgirl, look at the boots.”

Batgirl looked at the boots. None of them were yellow, or had high heels. They were lined up in a row, apparently from butch to more butch.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Mmmm,” Barbara moaned in her sleep. “Dinah…”

“I’m gonna be a lesbian!?” Batgirl cried.

“Hey, it’s not easy on me either. I’m going to be the last guy who dates you before you become a lesbian. Think about it.”

Batgirl paced around the room, her cape drawn tightly around her. Dick followed her, in such perfect lockstep that when she stopped, he bumped into her.

Then Barbara began snoring.

“It sounds like a chainsaw cutting down an old-growth forest!” Batgirl said, covering her ears. “No wonder she can’t keep a boyfriend!”

“Or a girlfriend,” Dick needled.

Quickly, they went into the other room. The Christmas tree was half-decorated, with the cardboard boxes of decoration lying around it like opened presents. In counterpoint to a tidying-up, Dick began doing up the Christmas tree. After a moment, Batgirl joined him in untangling the lights.

“So, what’s your plan?”

“Really? No plan, just winging it. I figure Barbara’s got enough friends that I can shift her around if one or more of them aren’t in the holiday spirit. Really, statistically speaking…

Batgirl bopped him.

Suddenly, the Clocktower chimed. Although the bedroom was insulated against the noise, it vibrated into the living room, shaking pine needles onto the floor. The bell struck three.

Batgirl and Dick traded a panicked look.

“The third ghost!”

They ran to the bedroom just in time to see the Ghost of Christmas Future, in the guise of Batman, standing over Barbara.

“I was dreaming about Dick and Dinah!” Barbara said, furious.

Over her yawning protests, Batman picked her up, slung her over her shoulder, and carried her into the night.

“Uh-oh,” Batgirl said.

“Really, now, the whole dystopian future is all it really takes to get the point across. She doesn’t need us to lecture her.”

“I’m gonna get fired!” Batgirl said. “I need this job! What other job can I do? Unless Barbara needs a Tyler Durden alter-ego…”

“That’d be hot,” Dick said as he made his way to the refrigerator. “Hey, she’s got eggnog.”

“How can you think of eggnog at a time like this?”

“Well, it’s not like she’ll be drinking it. Come on, we screwed up big-time. Might as well enjoy it.”

***

I don't know what to do!" cried Barbara the next morning after she awoke as fresh and bright-eyed as anyone ever had, laughing and crying in the same breath. "I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolgirl. I am as giddy as a drunkard. A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world!”

“Keep it down!” someone yelled from the living room.

Still merry, but a suspicious sort of merry, Barbara threw herself into her wheelchair and investigated. Dick opened the door before she could get to it, holding it open a slant just large enough to let his head out.

“Congratulations, Barbara, on learning the true meaning of Christmas!”

“Yeah, uh-huh, what are you still doing here?”

Dick blinked. “Wha?”

“Fat lot of good you did me. Batman had to go back and show me my past and present.”

“Yes, well, there’s always next year.”

“Assuming I forget everything I’ve learned this Christmas.”

“Yes, you’d be surprised how often that happens. Do you know how many visits we’ve made to Bruce?”

“We?” Barbara shoved the door open.

Batgirl was still on the couch, dressed only in her yellow cape.

“Oh God, I used to be such a hussy!”

“Hey!” Batgirl cried. “Just because you’re my future doesn’t mean you get to be mean!”

“Yeah,” Dick chimed in. “Didn’t you learn to keep Christmas in your heart?”

“Well… yeah…”

“You know, Christmas doesn’t have to come just once a year,” Dick said as he sat down beside Batgirl. “I do have a thing for MILFs…”

A Batarang ricocheted off his head.

“Okay, he had that coming,” Batgirl admitted as Dick slumped onto her. “But what is it with you and Batarangs?”

“They’re the gift that keeps on giving.”