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seriousficTitle: Cass's First Christmas
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Cassandra Cain, Tim/Steph, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent.
Word Count: 5,536
Summary: With Superman helping out around Gotham, there's no need for Batman to have a Robin or a Batgirl supporting him. So Tim is tasked to spend the holidays with Cass. But even with Cass not looking for trouble, will trouble find her in... "The Case of the Excessive Eggnog"?
Cass had her arm around Tim’s as they walked side by side, wrapping her right around his left so that they crossed at the elbow and her hand held his from behind. He didn’t try to correct her.
“Is this a date?” Cass asked as their footsteps crinkled down the icy sidewalk.
***
Three hours earlier…
Batman glared at Superman, who fastidiously adjusted the Santa cap so that the jangling tip didn’t rival his famous spit-curl.
“No.”
“It’s tradition!” Clark protested.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s tradition for when Lois is out of town on an assignment, despite it being Christmas,” Clark grumbled darkly. “And Ma and Pa are getting sick of me. So I spend each day of advent in a different city, helping one of my pals!”
Batman grinded his teeth. “It’s the last day of advent.”
“I saved the best for last. Besides, this of all days I thought you should lay off all the elves in your workshop.”
Bruce blinked.
“You know, give them the day off? Let the poor kids get some sleep for once. We can watch the city together.”
An entire night with a big blue boy scout dogging his every step. Now there was something more than the music that Bruce hated about the holidays.
“We can ride around in the Batmobile!” Clark chirped.
Bruce sighed. “What happens if I refuse?”
“I will find a group of Christmas carolers and we will sing outside your, I must admit, very stately manor.”
“For how long?”
Superman just smiled.
“Fine. I’ll go tell everyone.”
***
An hour after that…
Cass hit her fist into her open palm.
Batman shook his head. “No fighting.”
Cass thought about it for a moment. Then she mimed a magnifying glass with her fingers and looked through it.
“No, we won’t be doing detective work either. Superman and myself will be working alone.”
Cass wondered what Batman could be doing with Superman. Then she remembered the movies she’d watch with Dick for Hollow Ween. When she got scared, Dick had told her that she didn’t need to worry about Count Dracula because Superman could take him easy. Was that why Batman needed Superman’s help? There were vampires in the city? Questioningly, Cass mimed plunging a stake into a vampire’s chest. Hand gripping the invisible stake, motioning it up and down, up and down, up and down…
Batman’s eyes went round. “Who told you that?”
“Dick,” Cass answered innocently.
“…I’ll have to have a talk with him. But tonight,” Bruce gestured, “you don’t have to work. You can do whatever you like.”
Cass hit her fist into her open palm again..
Batman shook his head again.
***
And an hour after that…
Bruce tightened the belt on his dressing gown, giving Superman a continuing evil eye. The Kryptonian’s bright primary colors were desperately out of place in Wayne manor, even with the festive touches that Alfred had put in place. Superman looked back at him, a milk mustache on his face from the eggnog Alfred had served him.
“So, how long until sundown?”
“Too long,” Bruce said sharply.
“Cheer up, Wayne. Think about it. Because of you, Dick is at home with Barbara, Tim is out with Steph, and everyone’s having a merry…”
“Don’t say it.”
“Maybe if you had someone to cuddle up to under the mistletoe, you wouldn’t be so grouchy. Isn’t that way, Alfred?”
Alfred topped off Clark’s eggnog. “Quite right, Master Kent.”
“I know! Maybe we could swing by Selina’s place and…”
”No,” Bruce said, his hands squeezed into fists with black-hole tightness.
Clark scratched his head. “I can’t help but think that I’m forgetting someone. Wait! What’s Cass doing for Christmas?”
“I don’t know. Meditating, or training I presume. Perhaps familiarizing herself with the crime database files…”
“Bruce!” Clark crowed, echoing Alfred’s understated glare of disappointment.
“What? What is it?”
“Master Bruce, am we to truly assume you intend to keep young miss Cassandra cooped up in her cave on Christmas Eve?”
“She wants to!” Bruce protested. “It was all I could do to talk her out of going on patrol.”
Clark stood, spreading his arms in a benevolent gesture. “Bruce, Christmas is a time to embrace the love of friends and family. No one should spend Christmas alone. True, Christmas is a magical time of year, but unless we keep our hearts open to that magic, it withers and…”
“Fine! If I find Cass some company for Christmas, will you stop talking about the true meaning of Christmas?”
“…may…be?”
***
Yet another hour after…
“These?” Cass asked, holding up the woolen gloves that covered her hands and, incidentally, completed the fashionable ensemble that Alfred and Superman had assembled for her while Bruce slowly went out of his mind.
“Mittens.”
”Mittens!” Cass moved her thumbs about. “Hmm.”
Tim walked into the foyer, pulling his hood down from his head to reveal red ears and nose. “Okay, you got me away from Steph… whoa, Cass, nice outfit.”
“Scarf!” Cass said, throwing it over her shoulder to wind around her neck.
Alfred nudged Bruce expectantly. Bruce stopped kneading his temple and apologetically looked at Tim.
“Tim, could you do me a small favor?”
“Sure, Bruce, anything.”
“Can Cass spend Christmas with you?”
***
Back where we started…
“No, Cass, this isn’t a date. Not that you’re not, uh, date-able, but we’re just going to my house to watch Christmas movies upstairs while the adults schmooze downstairs. I just introduced Steph to the folks, so this has to be perfect.”
They passed under a sprig of holly hanging from an awning. Cass kissed Tim’s cheek. Tim didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t mistletoe.
“So, like, could you try to be in stealth mode? Just let me do all the talking until we get you upstairs.”
Cass mimed zipping her lips.
“Yes, exactly!”
They passed under another sprig of holly. Cass pecked his cheek again. Tim blushed.
“And, uh, none of that in the house, okay?”
***
Batman crouched amidst the gargoyles, a shadow’s shadow, gazing out at Gotham Square through binoculars. From the building he lurked upon, he could see for miles. But none could see him. He was invisible, a wraith, Gotham’s silent protector. The darkness cloaked him, concealed him. But when the moment came, the guilty would see him. And he would be the last thing they saw before prison bars closed over their fate.
“Hey Superman!” someone shouted from below.
“Merry Christmas!” Superman wished him, waving back.
Batman gritted his teeth. “Don’t wave!”
Superman hovered back down into the shadows. “Sorry.”
“This is why I didn’t want you to come along. It is impossible to maintain operational integrity with you compromising my stealth!”
“Batman, it’s Christmas! Even the criminals are at home with their families. Look out there, everyone’s filled with holiday cheer!”
“Or hopped up on drugs. There’s a crime being committed. There’s always a crime being committed. A-ha!”
Down in Gotham Square, a man had ran out of a toy store, pushed a Salvation Army Santa down, and then disappeared into a dark alley. Batman shot out a grapple-gun and swung down, but before he had landed, Superman had flown into the alley and returned with the thief.
The thief was in his fifties, a few scraggly gray hairs on his chin and a knit-cap covering his no-doubt balding head. His face was ruddy with cold and pleasingly oval, although the eyes stuck out a bit.
“Well, what’ve you got to say for yourself?” Superman asked, giving him a bit of a prim shake.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry… could I say goodbye to my kid? My house is on the way to the police station, if you could just swing me by there…”
Batman looked at what the man had stolen. It was a present shaped like a dinosaur under the wrapping paper. Batman grabbed it from him.
“I’ll give this back to the store.”
“Wait, Batman,” Clark said, holding up a hand. “Why steal that? Surely there were more expensive things you could’ve taken.”
“Kal…” Batman grumbled warningly.
“I just lost my job in November. It never paid the best, but I’ve just about emptied my bank account making ends meet. My son, Josh, he’s a good kid. He never gets any good stuff… his clothes are all hand-me-downs from the neighbors, didn’t even get a cake for his birthday. But he never complains, not ever. I just thought… I mean… it’s Christmas, ya know?”
“You can tell your sob story to the boys at the station house,” Batman growled.
“Batman!” Superman chastened.
“What? He’s guilty! He just admitted it. You heard him.”
“He may have done the wrong thing, but it was for the right reason. Sir, what is it you do?”
Batman rolled his eyes. Sir.
“I’m a plumber, Mister… Superman.”
Superman looked at Bruce. “I’m sure there are lots of jobs for a good plumber, if you just know where to look.”
“He’s a criminal!”
“Batman…”
Batman felt sure bile was rising in the back of his throat. “I’m make a few calls. What’s your name?”
“Melvin. Melvin Schrub.”
“Keep trying to find a job, Melvin. And no more crime.” He grabbed Melvin by the lapels and pulled him close. “I’ll be watching!”
“And while he’s watched…” Clark opened a compartment on his belt. “Here, twenty bucks. That oughta cover your son’s Christmas present!”
“Actually, it’s more like fifty. It’s one of those remote-control dinosaurs, with the articulated limbs and if you push the red button it roars…”
“That’s all the change I had on me.” Superman looked at Batman imploringly.
“No. Not going to happen.”
“It’s Christmas.”
“I refuse to aid and abet robbery.”
“Batman, Christmas.”
Grudgingly, Bruce reached into his utility belt and pulled out a hundred. Melvin took it, his eyes glowing.
“Thank you, Batman! Thank you! Merry Christmas!” He ran off, doing a quick turn to run back towards the store.
“There now.” Clark clapped a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Doesn’t that warm your heart with the Christmas spirit?”
“Don’t touch me.”
***
On the first floor of the Drake residence, the party was in full swing. Although most of the guests were dressed semi-formally, Jack had settled for a Christmas sweater. He and Dana laughed politely at each anecdote they were told as the party wore on. Caterers in smart, elfin uniforms flittered about, serving eggnog and Hors d'œuvres.
Tim and Cass came in through the front door, Tim looking around like a hunted animal. He pulled Cass under a wreath, and Cass kissed his cheek again. Tim blushed even more furiously.
“Okay, we should…”
“Tim! Tim, my boy!” Jack Drake got up from his throne on the couch, clearing a way through the partiers. “Thought you weren’t going to make it! Bill, this is my son, the honor student.”
“He’s made us very proud,” Dana chimed in. “Straight As.”
Tim blushed so hot that Cass wondered if someone was kissing his other cheek. She looked. No one was.
“Gee, I’m just… I mean, they grade on a curve…” Tim belatedly realized that eyes were shifting from him to the strange Asian girl sniffing around him. “Oh, this is Cass. She’s a friend from school.”
Jack offered her his hand. “Pleased to meet you. The more the merrier!”
Cass looked at his hand, trying to determine if he was offering her something invisible.
Tim picked up the slack. “Uh… Cass came here to play some Nintendo with me and Steph, is that alright? We’ll keep the volume down real low.”
“Sure, Timothy, that’s…”
Cass suddenly remembered. She grabbed Jack’s hand and shook it heartily, shaking harder when Tim kicked her shin, then stopping when Tim kicked her shin again.
“Quite a grip you got there, little lady.”
“Mittens!” Cass said, holding up the hand she’d used to shake.
Jack looked at Tim askew. “…a friend from school, you say?”
Tim shrugged. “I told you they graded on a curve?” he offered meekly.
“Mr. Drake, it’s a pleasure to be permitted into your fine estate. Let me issue you my sincerest gratitude at being allowed to spend Christmas with your son.”
Jack looked at Cass, even more askew. “You’re very welcome.”
“Smashing! Then allow me to depart with your son for the upstairs, where shall play with his Wii.”
Hooking her arm in his, Cass dragged Tim up the stairs.
“What was… who the…?”
“Alfred’s been giving me lessons in high suh-sahy-i-tee. What’s an estate?”
“It’s a house,” Tim answered numbly as he led Cass into his room. Steph was already inside, curled up on his bed. She was on her belly, legs crossed in the air, with Tim’s plush Crocky slippers hanging off her feet. A mug of hot chocolate was in her hands, steaming, with marshmallows floating on the surface.
“Tim, you have a TV in your room,” she informed him.
“Yeah, I’m aware of that.”
“How does your family afford all this!?”
“Being rich helps. Cass is here.”
Steph looked past Tim to see Cass hiding in the doorway. “Cassie! Hey girl!”
“What’s an estate?”
“A house and stuff.” Impressively managing not to spill her cocoa, Steph spun into a sit. “When’d tall, dark, and gruesome decide to let you out of the cave?”
“He’s spending time with Superman, and they want to be alone.” To show where her investigation of that had led, Cass mimed staking a vampire. Up and down, up and down.
Steph nodded. “Really? Okay, keeping around a series of young boys in short-shorts was, no offense Tim, but a little…” she let her wrist flop down. “But I had no idea about Superman. I thought he was into, you know…” she made a circle with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, then poked the forefinger of her other hand in and out of it.
Cass started with fear. What if Batman and Superman weren’t slaying Dracula? What if they were, instead, sticking their fingers in their hands and pulling them out again? No! It couldn’t be true! She shook her head and mimed staking Dracula even harder.
“Okay, as Freudian as this is, I’d really like to eat some caramel corn and watch some Christmas movies,” Tim said, having stopped trying to figure out the women in his life long ago.
Reluctantly, Cass sat down on the bed beside Steph. The mattress quaked under her. She stood back up again instantly.
“Jello!”
Steph drained her cocoa. “No, Cass, waterbed. Because Tim is a rich girl and he can rely on the old man’s money.”
“It’s easy on my back!” Tim said defensively. He sat down by Steph, who bounced up and down in an attempt to shake him off the bed. Tim crossed his legs and didn’t budge. “Believe me, if my cousin Jamie can’t unseat me in waterbed wars, you can’t either.”
Steph casually snuck her leg under Tim’s hanging feet and swept it upward, knocking Tim onto his back. He was totally defenseless as Steph rolled on top of him.
“Your cousin Jamie is eight years old. Me, on the other hand…” She pressed down on the waterbed to either side of him, shaking him up a little. “I’m all woman.”
“Certainly are.”
“Heat Miser!” Cass said, dropping down onto the bed as the show came back from commercial. She grabbed Tim and Steph and yanked them up. “He’s Mr. Green Christmas! He’s Mr. Sun!”
For a while they watched TV, the noises of the party drifting up to occasionally blunt the stereo. Tim drifted down to the floor, his back against the bed. Steph got down beside him, head supported by his shoulder and hand wrapped around his, thumb rubbing small circles behind his knuckles. Cass huddled herself inside the cave of Tim’s comforter, legs dangling beside the lovebirds. Eventually, she kicked off her boots, flexing her toes happily with each new musical number.
But even as they explained things to Cass during the commercials, something nagged at Tim. It was like a case he was just about to solve. All the evidence was there, he just needed to put it together.
Suddenly, Tim went bolt upright, disturbing Steph. He looked over at the miniature aluminum tree, two gift-wrapped presents under it with bright red bows topping them. Then he looked at Cass, cuddling one of Tim’s ancient stuffed animals to her chest as she hummed with joy.
“Uh, Steph, could I have a word with you in private?”
Steph raised an eyebrow.
“Not that kind of word.”
“Oh,” Steph said, disappointed.
Getting to their feet, they strolled toward the bathroom. Steph ruffled Cass’s hair on the way.
“Don’t run off, ‘kay?”
Cass nodded.
In the bathroom, Tim sat down on the toilet while Steph jumped up onto the sink. She only let one jealous glance drift to Tim’s shower, muttering barely audibly that he probably had hot water.
“Steph, you know how we agreed to exchange presents?”
Steph crossed her legs. “Yeah. Is it okay if mine’s from the heart, because I couldn’t afford an actually nice present?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. But did you get anything for Cass?”
Steph’s face screwed up. “I didn’t know she celebrated Christmas.”
“Apparently she does now! We have to get her something! But what?”
Steph hopped down. “I know what she wants! We were watching Saturday morning cartoons the other day and a commercial came on for that new toy, the one with the articulated limbs and if you push the red button it roars…”
From the bedroom came the TV, volume turned up. Tim and Steph looked at each other, then poked their heads out the door.
Cass was bouncing up and down with excitement, karaoking to Robo-Rex’s theme song. She actually had a pretty good singing voice, even if it was singing the virtues of a toy guaranteed to rampage 110% more destructively than the competitor’s remote-control dinosaur.
“That’s pretty cheap,” Steph said. “What, fifty bucks?”
Tim rifled through his wallet. “I can cover it.” He checked his watch. “Ack! All the stores must be closed by now!”
“Not Sam Marshall’s on Thor Street! He never closes!”
“Why not?”
“His family died of cancer or something, so he subverts his pain by throwing himself into his work obsessively.”
“Man, what is it with this city?”
“Don’t talk, your best friend is a clone.”
Tim brushed up his hair in the mirror, using his hands. “Okay. Thirty minutes there and back. You watch Cass, make sure she doesn’t make any trouble.”
“It’s Cass! What trouble could she get into?”
A moment passed as they thought about it.
“Well, she could kayo pretty much anyone here, but I doubt she would. Unless they were threatening her. Or she thought they were threatening her. Or they were thinking about threatening her.”
Tim stared at her.
“Right, right, I won’t let her out of my sight. You get that present, and be sure it’s wrapped.”
They walked out of the bathroom. Cass was still on the bed, happily squirming along to the movie. Tim gathered up his coat. He wondered if this was what Alfred felt like. He did have an inexplicable urge to describe things as “bloody” and make lots of pointed commentary on people’s mental states.
“Cass, I’m going out for a minute. You gonna be okay here with Steph?”
Cass nodded, then frowned. “But… but…” she gestured to TV. “Don’t you want to know if they save Christmas?”
“Relax, Cass, I’ve already seen it.”
Cass went boondoggled as Tim left, debating fiercely inside herself and looking from hand to hand as she tried to work out a personal conundrum.
“Tim can see into the future?” she asked Steph.
***
Batman slammed the hood shut. The engine had guttered out because of the cold and the car had drifted into a snow bank. Superman had hauled it out and Batman had repaired the engine. The driver thankfully shook both their hands.
“Thank you so much! Now I can get these presents to the orphanage on time! The kids will be so happy!”
Superman smiled at Batman, who kept his face resolutely blank.
“Drive safe,” he growled. “And remember to wear your seatbelt!” An implied or else lived at the end of his sentence.
“I will! Thank you, once again!”
Superman watched the taillights of the car as it drove off. “See? The Christmas spirit! Doesn’t it just warm your heart?”
“No.”
Batman turned on his heel and marched toward the Batmobile, which was parked nearby within a rough circle of road flares.
“Come on, Bruce. Can’t you celebrate Christmas at least a little?”
“I donate money to every orphanage and children’s hospital in the city. That good enough for you?”
“Christmas isn’t about money. It’s about…”
Bruce stuck a finger in his face. “You promised! Tim spends time with Cass, no lectures on the meaning of Christmas. I bought gift cards for everyone on my Christmas list.”
Superman pouted. “You got people money for Christmas?”
“How could I be expected to know what someone like Barbara…”
“A slot in the beta test for the new Orion operating system.”
“…obviously. But what would Dick…”
“Tickets to the Georgian State Dance Company.”
“Fine. But how could I be expected to know what you, a man who has everything, would want for Christmas?”
Superman gave Bruce a long look. “I’d want to spend some time with my best friend. And maybe a colander.”
***
Steph poured eggnog into shotglasses for both herself and Cass. “Okay. Whenever Rudolph’s nose glows, we take a shot.”
Cass sipped hers. “What’s this made out of?”
“I don’t know… my mom makes hers out of milk, cream, sugar… eggs. I think some nutmeg for flavor? Usually a lot of alcohol if my dad’s at home.”
Alfred had explained to Cass where eggs came from. But she still had questions. “Where does sugar come from?”
Steph told her.
“And where does cream come from?”
“Same place as the milk.”
“But where does milk come from?”
“Cows.”
Cass frowned. “How?”
“It’s kinda hard to explain…” Steph grabbed Tim’s laptop. “Let me see if I can find a video on Youtube, it kinda speaks for itself.”
***
Tim clutched his coat tight around him inside Sam Marshall’s. Something about the proprietor sitting at the cash register, brooding as darkly as a man could in a hideous chain-store vest with a nametag clipped on it, made him feel depressed. He plopped the toy down on the counter.
“Hi.” Tim tried.
Sam Marshall rung up the Robo-Rex.
“Nice weather we’re having, huh?”
Sam Marshall looked out the window at the flurry of snowflakes. “Gotham’s crying.”
“Really? I could get the metaphor if it was raining, or even sleeting, but snowflakes aren’t particularly tear-like.”
“They’ve frozen because Gotham is a frigid bitch.”
“Oh. Yes. That would explain it.”
“A frigid bitch whore.”
“Isn’t a frigid whore an oxymoron? You know, bit of a contradiction in terms?”
Sam Marshall stared at Tim.
“49.99.”
Tim handed him the money.
“Paper or plastic?”
“Paper.”
Sam Marshall threw the toy inside a paper bag.
“Merry Christmas,” Tim said.
“Only the dead have merry Christmases.”
***
Cass watched the video with growing horror.
“That’s milk?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And it comes out of them!”
“Yeah.”
Cass put her hands over her eyes, but peeked between them to see Steph drink some eggnog.
“It helps your bones grow!” Steph threatened, upper lip damp with the horrible cow-juice.
Cass backed away from her friend, slowly starting to hyperventilate. Did the public know of this? No, they couldn’t. It must be a secret available only to Batman’s allies! Otherwise, why would they drink such an awful liquid? To heck with the secret, she couldn’t let this continue! She had to warn the people!
Taking the stairs two at a time, Cass ran down to the first floor.
Everyone.
Was drinking.
Eggnog.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
She snatched a glass out of the nearest person’s hand and shattered it on the ground. “Don’t drink the eggnog!” Cass slapped another glass out of someone’s hand. “Don’t drink it!” She ran rampant through the party, spilling eggnog wherever she found it. “EGGNOG IS MADE OUT OF COWS!!! IT’S COWS!!!”
***
Batman looked at the crime board within the Batmobile. An icon indicated a disturbance at… the Drake house!?
He turned to Superman in the passenger seat. “Tim’s in trouble. Hang on, we’re going to driving a ludicrous speeds.”
Superman glanced at the speedometer. “How fast does this thing go?”
“Seven hundred miles per hour.”
“I can get us there faster.”
***
Batman reminded himself that letting Superman carry him through the night sky with arms around his chest was for the greater good.
***
Someone tried to restrain her. Obviously, the eggnog had driven him mad. Cass karate-chopped him in the neck, her least painful disablement. It wasn’t his fault. It was the eggnog.
Steph came downstairs, holding up a hand to her face. The party was in chaos. The floors ran white with eggnog. People’s clothes were splattered with it. The guests were in a full-blown riot, trying to get away from the crazy girl who’d demanded their eggnog or trying to stop her, an effort which only earned them unconsciousness.
Cass set her eyes on the punch bowl atop the buffet table. It was full of eggnog. And it had to go.
Steph followed her gaze there. She hopped the guardrail and landed between Cass and the punch bowl.
“Cass, you have to stop!”
“Out of my way, Steph!”
“There’s nothing wrong with milk! You’re overreacting! Cass, this is your chance! You can either sink down to the instincts of violence or you can rise above it and show everyone that Cassandra Cain controls her own destiny!”
Cass thought about it for a moment. Then she tackled Steph into the buffet table, spilling the punch bowl’s contents all over them. Slathered in eggnog, Cass began strangling Steph.
“You made me do shots of it!”
Just that moment, Tim snuck in through the backdoor, the fully-wrapped Robo-Rex in his hand. He looked at his girlfriend and his friend who was a girl rolling around on the floor, covered in eggnog. I’ve had dreams like this, he thought to himself. Usually after I eat a lot of chili.
“Cass,” he said helplessly, holding out her gift. “This is for you.”
Cass looked up. “For me?” She frowned. “It’s not eggnog, is it?”
Tim shook his head.
Slowly, Cass stood. With exaggerated casualness, she walked up to Tim and whispered in his ear. “Everyone here is a vampire. They live off cow-blood. We have to…” She mimed staking them.
“…Cass, I don’t think that’s a good—oh! OH! Stake them. Wow, I was way off there.”
Jack Drake stepped forward, eggnog dripping out of his hair. “Timothy Maurice Drake, what is the meaning of this!? Your friend has ruined Christmas!”
Tim held up his hands. “Hold on a minute! If you just wait, there’s a perfectly valid explanation for all of this.”
They waited, fifty party guests staring at Tim.
“Okay, that was a lie, there’s no explanation.”
Suddenly, there was a clatter on the roof. Everyone looked up to see what was the matter.
A bit of soot dripped down the chimney.
“No way,” Tim said.
Two black boots landed in the fireplace, stirring up ashes.
“No way,” Jack said.
Then a dark shape crouched down and finally Batman emerged from the fireplace in a menacing stride.
“THIS ENDS NOW, SCUMBAGS! TONIGHT YOU…” He stopped. Quizzically lifted one foot and put it down again. The soggy carpet squished under him. And what was that smell? “Eggnog?”
“It’s made from cows!” Cass reported. “I didn’t want to believe it either, but it’s true! Steph showed me!”
Steph, who had been drying herself off with several napkins, found all eyes on her. “Uh, I, uh… trying to increase her knowledge base, help her… assimilate into American…” She pointed. “LOOK, OVER THERE, A DISTRACTION!”
Everyone but Batman turned. “Nice try.”
Jack Drake stepped up to Batman, pointing a finger at Cass. “I want that girl arrested!”
“Dad, you can’t!”
“Just watch me! She’s embarrassed our family in front of all our loved ones! I want her to pay for ruining Christmas!”
“Ruined?” Superman asked, coming through the front door. “Or made better?”
A rustle went through the crowd. Superman grinned. For once, people weren’t confusing him for a bird or a plane.
“Christmas,” he began, “isn’t about parties or fancy social events.”
Batman pinched his sinuses between his fingers and shook his head. “Here we go…”
“It’s about the love of families, whether related by blood or simply by friendship, or a common cause, or that most precious of all things… love. Mr. Drake, your son loves Cass.”
“Ex-SCUSE me?” Steph said, hands planted firmly at her hips.
Superman raised his hands to ward her off. “In a platonic way. And Cass loves him, also in a platonic way. The way I see it, no matter how hard it gets or what problems it causes, bringing more love into your house isn’t a bad thing. It’s what Christmas is all about.”
A thoughtful pause ran through the crowd. Jack looked at his shoes for a moment, then up at the Man of Steel. “He’s right.” The crowd chorused their approval. “He’s right! Christmas isn’t something you put in a blender and mix with alcohol.” He tapped his heart. “It’s in here.”
“Now,” Superman said, picking up a party hat. “What say we get this party really hopping?”
***
It was a few minutes later that Superman walked out onto the porch, where Batman was standing alone in the shadows. The effect was somewhat diminished by the grill sitting nearby.
“Come on in, Batman. They’re starting a conga line.”
Batman’s eyes were white slits. “That’s not my place.”
“Bruce…”
“Clark.” Batman’s sharpness brought him up short. “I know bad things have happened to you and I know you’ve gotten over it. That’s how you work. You bring people hope. But I can’t let go of the past. My pain gives me strength. Without it, I’d lose my edge. And if that happens, people die.”
“I think that’s just the excuse you use to keep people away. Are you really telling me that if you let one person care about you, if would make you less smart, less fast, less strong?”
“It would make it hurt more when they went away.” Batman turned. “Wayne manor is a short walk from here. Go. Enjoy the party.”
Batman’s feet wouldn’t obey his orders to start walking. He heard the swish of Clark’s cape as the other man walked up to him, put a strong hand on his shoulder.
“I’d enjoy it more if I knew you were enjoying it too.”
“Unfortunately, that’s a weakness the Batman can’t afford.”
Brushing Clark’s hand off, Batman walked off into the night.
***
Steph finished balling up the last wad of tissue paper. She was dry enough, but she still smelled like eggnog. And unlike the other guests, who’d adopted it as a sort of tribal tattoo (even Superman had doused a cup over his head), she didn’t like it. Her first Christmas together with Tim as a couple… ruined.
Tim surprised her by running a finger over Steph’s cheek, then licking it. “Mmm, cinnamon.”
“Not funny.”
“Eau de eggnog… very funny, but then I have a weird sense of humor. Ready to open gifts, beautiful?”
“I’m not really in the mood.”
Tim took her hand gently. “We can watch other people open theirs.”
“Oh, where’s the fun in that?”
Smiling, Tim led her by the hand into the foyer. Cass was sitting cross-legged with a present in her lap.
“Now?” she asked.
“Now.”
She ripped through the wrapping paper, unraveling it in nanoseconds to get to what laid behind. Her eyes went wide, glowing with happiness.
“A Robo-Rex! With fully articulated limbs and a real electronic roar!” She pressed a button on the remote control and it went RRAAARGH! “How did you know?”
“It was Steph’s idea,” Tim said cheerfully.
“Well, Tim was the one who paid for…”
It was too late. Cass was already across the room and hugging Steph tightly.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Steph was stunned for a moment, then she slowly wrapped her arms around Cass and gave her a squeeze in return.
There was a knock at the door. Leaving Tim to open his present from Steph (“A Blue Beetle collectible air ship with cast-iron construction! Where’d you find this!?”), Jack Drake answered it.
Bruce Wayne shoved a modest gift box into his hands. “I know I already RSVPed, but the business meeting I was expecting got canceled. Hope you saved some eggnog.”
“No. Long story.” He gestured inside. “I trust you’ve met my close personal friend, Superman? The Superman?”
Bruce looked at Superman, as if trying to place his face. Superman beamed.
“I’m sure our paths have crossed.” From under his arm, Bruce fetched a present and handed it to Superman. “Merry Christmas.”
Superman opened it. “A colander?”
“For the man who has everything. Except a colander.”
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Cassandra Cain, Tim/Steph, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent.
Word Count: 5,536
Summary: With Superman helping out around Gotham, there's no need for Batman to have a Robin or a Batgirl supporting him. So Tim is tasked to spend the holidays with Cass. But even with Cass not looking for trouble, will trouble find her in... "The Case of the Excessive Eggnog"?
Cass had her arm around Tim’s as they walked side by side, wrapping her right around his left so that they crossed at the elbow and her hand held his from behind. He didn’t try to correct her.
“Is this a date?” Cass asked as their footsteps crinkled down the icy sidewalk.
***
Three hours earlier…
Batman glared at Superman, who fastidiously adjusted the Santa cap so that the jangling tip didn’t rival his famous spit-curl.
“No.”
“It’s tradition!” Clark protested.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s tradition for when Lois is out of town on an assignment, despite it being Christmas,” Clark grumbled darkly. “And Ma and Pa are getting sick of me. So I spend each day of advent in a different city, helping one of my pals!”
Batman grinded his teeth. “It’s the last day of advent.”
“I saved the best for last. Besides, this of all days I thought you should lay off all the elves in your workshop.”
Bruce blinked.
“You know, give them the day off? Let the poor kids get some sleep for once. We can watch the city together.”
An entire night with a big blue boy scout dogging his every step. Now there was something more than the music that Bruce hated about the holidays.
“We can ride around in the Batmobile!” Clark chirped.
Bruce sighed. “What happens if I refuse?”
“I will find a group of Christmas carolers and we will sing outside your, I must admit, very stately manor.”
“For how long?”
Superman just smiled.
“Fine. I’ll go tell everyone.”
***
An hour after that…
Cass hit her fist into her open palm.
Batman shook his head. “No fighting.”
Cass thought about it for a moment. Then she mimed a magnifying glass with her fingers and looked through it.
“No, we won’t be doing detective work either. Superman and myself will be working alone.”
Cass wondered what Batman could be doing with Superman. Then she remembered the movies she’d watch with Dick for Hollow Ween. When she got scared, Dick had told her that she didn’t need to worry about Count Dracula because Superman could take him easy. Was that why Batman needed Superman’s help? There were vampires in the city? Questioningly, Cass mimed plunging a stake into a vampire’s chest. Hand gripping the invisible stake, motioning it up and down, up and down, up and down…
Batman’s eyes went round. “Who told you that?”
“Dick,” Cass answered innocently.
“…I’ll have to have a talk with him. But tonight,” Bruce gestured, “you don’t have to work. You can do whatever you like.”
Cass hit her fist into her open palm again..
Batman shook his head again.
***
And an hour after that…
Bruce tightened the belt on his dressing gown, giving Superman a continuing evil eye. The Kryptonian’s bright primary colors were desperately out of place in Wayne manor, even with the festive touches that Alfred had put in place. Superman looked back at him, a milk mustache on his face from the eggnog Alfred had served him.
“So, how long until sundown?”
“Too long,” Bruce said sharply.
“Cheer up, Wayne. Think about it. Because of you, Dick is at home with Barbara, Tim is out with Steph, and everyone’s having a merry…”
“Don’t say it.”
“Maybe if you had someone to cuddle up to under the mistletoe, you wouldn’t be so grouchy. Isn’t that way, Alfred?”
Alfred topped off Clark’s eggnog. “Quite right, Master Kent.”
“I know! Maybe we could swing by Selina’s place and…”
”No,” Bruce said, his hands squeezed into fists with black-hole tightness.
Clark scratched his head. “I can’t help but think that I’m forgetting someone. Wait! What’s Cass doing for Christmas?”
“I don’t know. Meditating, or training I presume. Perhaps familiarizing herself with the crime database files…”
“Bruce!” Clark crowed, echoing Alfred’s understated glare of disappointment.
“What? What is it?”
“Master Bruce, am we to truly assume you intend to keep young miss Cassandra cooped up in her cave on Christmas Eve?”
“She wants to!” Bruce protested. “It was all I could do to talk her out of going on patrol.”
Clark stood, spreading his arms in a benevolent gesture. “Bruce, Christmas is a time to embrace the love of friends and family. No one should spend Christmas alone. True, Christmas is a magical time of year, but unless we keep our hearts open to that magic, it withers and…”
“Fine! If I find Cass some company for Christmas, will you stop talking about the true meaning of Christmas?”
“…may…be?”
***
Yet another hour after…
“These?” Cass asked, holding up the woolen gloves that covered her hands and, incidentally, completed the fashionable ensemble that Alfred and Superman had assembled for her while Bruce slowly went out of his mind.
“Mittens.”
”Mittens!” Cass moved her thumbs about. “Hmm.”
Tim walked into the foyer, pulling his hood down from his head to reveal red ears and nose. “Okay, you got me away from Steph… whoa, Cass, nice outfit.”
“Scarf!” Cass said, throwing it over her shoulder to wind around her neck.
Alfred nudged Bruce expectantly. Bruce stopped kneading his temple and apologetically looked at Tim.
“Tim, could you do me a small favor?”
“Sure, Bruce, anything.”
“Can Cass spend Christmas with you?”
***
Back where we started…
“No, Cass, this isn’t a date. Not that you’re not, uh, date-able, but we’re just going to my house to watch Christmas movies upstairs while the adults schmooze downstairs. I just introduced Steph to the folks, so this has to be perfect.”
They passed under a sprig of holly hanging from an awning. Cass kissed Tim’s cheek. Tim didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t mistletoe.
“So, like, could you try to be in stealth mode? Just let me do all the talking until we get you upstairs.”
Cass mimed zipping her lips.
“Yes, exactly!”
They passed under another sprig of holly. Cass pecked his cheek again. Tim blushed.
“And, uh, none of that in the house, okay?”
***
Batman crouched amidst the gargoyles, a shadow’s shadow, gazing out at Gotham Square through binoculars. From the building he lurked upon, he could see for miles. But none could see him. He was invisible, a wraith, Gotham’s silent protector. The darkness cloaked him, concealed him. But when the moment came, the guilty would see him. And he would be the last thing they saw before prison bars closed over their fate.
“Hey Superman!” someone shouted from below.
“Merry Christmas!” Superman wished him, waving back.
Batman gritted his teeth. “Don’t wave!”
Superman hovered back down into the shadows. “Sorry.”
“This is why I didn’t want you to come along. It is impossible to maintain operational integrity with you compromising my stealth!”
“Batman, it’s Christmas! Even the criminals are at home with their families. Look out there, everyone’s filled with holiday cheer!”
“Or hopped up on drugs. There’s a crime being committed. There’s always a crime being committed. A-ha!”
Down in Gotham Square, a man had ran out of a toy store, pushed a Salvation Army Santa down, and then disappeared into a dark alley. Batman shot out a grapple-gun and swung down, but before he had landed, Superman had flown into the alley and returned with the thief.
The thief was in his fifties, a few scraggly gray hairs on his chin and a knit-cap covering his no-doubt balding head. His face was ruddy with cold and pleasingly oval, although the eyes stuck out a bit.
“Well, what’ve you got to say for yourself?” Superman asked, giving him a bit of a prim shake.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry… could I say goodbye to my kid? My house is on the way to the police station, if you could just swing me by there…”
Batman looked at what the man had stolen. It was a present shaped like a dinosaur under the wrapping paper. Batman grabbed it from him.
“I’ll give this back to the store.”
“Wait, Batman,” Clark said, holding up a hand. “Why steal that? Surely there were more expensive things you could’ve taken.”
“Kal…” Batman grumbled warningly.
“I just lost my job in November. It never paid the best, but I’ve just about emptied my bank account making ends meet. My son, Josh, he’s a good kid. He never gets any good stuff… his clothes are all hand-me-downs from the neighbors, didn’t even get a cake for his birthday. But he never complains, not ever. I just thought… I mean… it’s Christmas, ya know?”
“You can tell your sob story to the boys at the station house,” Batman growled.
“Batman!” Superman chastened.
“What? He’s guilty! He just admitted it. You heard him.”
“He may have done the wrong thing, but it was for the right reason. Sir, what is it you do?”
Batman rolled his eyes. Sir.
“I’m a plumber, Mister… Superman.”
Superman looked at Bruce. “I’m sure there are lots of jobs for a good plumber, if you just know where to look.”
“He’s a criminal!”
“Batman…”
Batman felt sure bile was rising in the back of his throat. “I’m make a few calls. What’s your name?”
“Melvin. Melvin Schrub.”
“Keep trying to find a job, Melvin. And no more crime.” He grabbed Melvin by the lapels and pulled him close. “I’ll be watching!”
“And while he’s watched…” Clark opened a compartment on his belt. “Here, twenty bucks. That oughta cover your son’s Christmas present!”
“Actually, it’s more like fifty. It’s one of those remote-control dinosaurs, with the articulated limbs and if you push the red button it roars…”
“That’s all the change I had on me.” Superman looked at Batman imploringly.
“No. Not going to happen.”
“It’s Christmas.”
“I refuse to aid and abet robbery.”
“Batman, Christmas.”
Grudgingly, Bruce reached into his utility belt and pulled out a hundred. Melvin took it, his eyes glowing.
“Thank you, Batman! Thank you! Merry Christmas!” He ran off, doing a quick turn to run back towards the store.
“There now.” Clark clapped a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Doesn’t that warm your heart with the Christmas spirit?”
“Don’t touch me.”
***
On the first floor of the Drake residence, the party was in full swing. Although most of the guests were dressed semi-formally, Jack had settled for a Christmas sweater. He and Dana laughed politely at each anecdote they were told as the party wore on. Caterers in smart, elfin uniforms flittered about, serving eggnog and Hors d'œuvres.
Tim and Cass came in through the front door, Tim looking around like a hunted animal. He pulled Cass under a wreath, and Cass kissed his cheek again. Tim blushed even more furiously.
“Okay, we should…”
“Tim! Tim, my boy!” Jack Drake got up from his throne on the couch, clearing a way through the partiers. “Thought you weren’t going to make it! Bill, this is my son, the honor student.”
“He’s made us very proud,” Dana chimed in. “Straight As.”
Tim blushed so hot that Cass wondered if someone was kissing his other cheek. She looked. No one was.
“Gee, I’m just… I mean, they grade on a curve…” Tim belatedly realized that eyes were shifting from him to the strange Asian girl sniffing around him. “Oh, this is Cass. She’s a friend from school.”
Jack offered her his hand. “Pleased to meet you. The more the merrier!”
Cass looked at his hand, trying to determine if he was offering her something invisible.
Tim picked up the slack. “Uh… Cass came here to play some Nintendo with me and Steph, is that alright? We’ll keep the volume down real low.”
“Sure, Timothy, that’s…”
Cass suddenly remembered. She grabbed Jack’s hand and shook it heartily, shaking harder when Tim kicked her shin, then stopping when Tim kicked her shin again.
“Quite a grip you got there, little lady.”
“Mittens!” Cass said, holding up the hand she’d used to shake.
Jack looked at Tim askew. “…a friend from school, you say?”
Tim shrugged. “I told you they graded on a curve?” he offered meekly.
“Mr. Drake, it’s a pleasure to be permitted into your fine estate. Let me issue you my sincerest gratitude at being allowed to spend Christmas with your son.”
Jack looked at Cass, even more askew. “You’re very welcome.”
“Smashing! Then allow me to depart with your son for the upstairs, where shall play with his Wii.”
Hooking her arm in his, Cass dragged Tim up the stairs.
“What was… who the…?”
“Alfred’s been giving me lessons in high suh-sahy-i-tee. What’s an estate?”
“It’s a house,” Tim answered numbly as he led Cass into his room. Steph was already inside, curled up on his bed. She was on her belly, legs crossed in the air, with Tim’s plush Crocky slippers hanging off her feet. A mug of hot chocolate was in her hands, steaming, with marshmallows floating on the surface.
“Tim, you have a TV in your room,” she informed him.
“Yeah, I’m aware of that.”
“How does your family afford all this!?”
“Being rich helps. Cass is here.”
Steph looked past Tim to see Cass hiding in the doorway. “Cassie! Hey girl!”
“What’s an estate?”
“A house and stuff.” Impressively managing not to spill her cocoa, Steph spun into a sit. “When’d tall, dark, and gruesome decide to let you out of the cave?”
“He’s spending time with Superman, and they want to be alone.” To show where her investigation of that had led, Cass mimed staking a vampire. Up and down, up and down.
Steph nodded. “Really? Okay, keeping around a series of young boys in short-shorts was, no offense Tim, but a little…” she let her wrist flop down. “But I had no idea about Superman. I thought he was into, you know…” she made a circle with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, then poked the forefinger of her other hand in and out of it.
Cass started with fear. What if Batman and Superman weren’t slaying Dracula? What if they were, instead, sticking their fingers in their hands and pulling them out again? No! It couldn’t be true! She shook her head and mimed staking Dracula even harder.
“Okay, as Freudian as this is, I’d really like to eat some caramel corn and watch some Christmas movies,” Tim said, having stopped trying to figure out the women in his life long ago.
Reluctantly, Cass sat down on the bed beside Steph. The mattress quaked under her. She stood back up again instantly.
“Jello!”
Steph drained her cocoa. “No, Cass, waterbed. Because Tim is a rich girl and he can rely on the old man’s money.”
“It’s easy on my back!” Tim said defensively. He sat down by Steph, who bounced up and down in an attempt to shake him off the bed. Tim crossed his legs and didn’t budge. “Believe me, if my cousin Jamie can’t unseat me in waterbed wars, you can’t either.”
Steph casually snuck her leg under Tim’s hanging feet and swept it upward, knocking Tim onto his back. He was totally defenseless as Steph rolled on top of him.
“Your cousin Jamie is eight years old. Me, on the other hand…” She pressed down on the waterbed to either side of him, shaking him up a little. “I’m all woman.”
“Certainly are.”
“Heat Miser!” Cass said, dropping down onto the bed as the show came back from commercial. She grabbed Tim and Steph and yanked them up. “He’s Mr. Green Christmas! He’s Mr. Sun!”
For a while they watched TV, the noises of the party drifting up to occasionally blunt the stereo. Tim drifted down to the floor, his back against the bed. Steph got down beside him, head supported by his shoulder and hand wrapped around his, thumb rubbing small circles behind his knuckles. Cass huddled herself inside the cave of Tim’s comforter, legs dangling beside the lovebirds. Eventually, she kicked off her boots, flexing her toes happily with each new musical number.
But even as they explained things to Cass during the commercials, something nagged at Tim. It was like a case he was just about to solve. All the evidence was there, he just needed to put it together.
Suddenly, Tim went bolt upright, disturbing Steph. He looked over at the miniature aluminum tree, two gift-wrapped presents under it with bright red bows topping them. Then he looked at Cass, cuddling one of Tim’s ancient stuffed animals to her chest as she hummed with joy.
“Uh, Steph, could I have a word with you in private?”
Steph raised an eyebrow.
“Not that kind of word.”
“Oh,” Steph said, disappointed.
Getting to their feet, they strolled toward the bathroom. Steph ruffled Cass’s hair on the way.
“Don’t run off, ‘kay?”
Cass nodded.
In the bathroom, Tim sat down on the toilet while Steph jumped up onto the sink. She only let one jealous glance drift to Tim’s shower, muttering barely audibly that he probably had hot water.
“Steph, you know how we agreed to exchange presents?”
Steph crossed her legs. “Yeah. Is it okay if mine’s from the heart, because I couldn’t afford an actually nice present?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. But did you get anything for Cass?”
Steph’s face screwed up. “I didn’t know she celebrated Christmas.”
“Apparently she does now! We have to get her something! But what?”
Steph hopped down. “I know what she wants! We were watching Saturday morning cartoons the other day and a commercial came on for that new toy, the one with the articulated limbs and if you push the red button it roars…”
From the bedroom came the TV, volume turned up. Tim and Steph looked at each other, then poked their heads out the door.
Cass was bouncing up and down with excitement, karaoking to Robo-Rex’s theme song. She actually had a pretty good singing voice, even if it was singing the virtues of a toy guaranteed to rampage 110% more destructively than the competitor’s remote-control dinosaur.
“That’s pretty cheap,” Steph said. “What, fifty bucks?”
Tim rifled through his wallet. “I can cover it.” He checked his watch. “Ack! All the stores must be closed by now!”
“Not Sam Marshall’s on Thor Street! He never closes!”
“Why not?”
“His family died of cancer or something, so he subverts his pain by throwing himself into his work obsessively.”
“Man, what is it with this city?”
“Don’t talk, your best friend is a clone.”
Tim brushed up his hair in the mirror, using his hands. “Okay. Thirty minutes there and back. You watch Cass, make sure she doesn’t make any trouble.”
“It’s Cass! What trouble could she get into?”
A moment passed as they thought about it.
“Well, she could kayo pretty much anyone here, but I doubt she would. Unless they were threatening her. Or she thought they were threatening her. Or they were thinking about threatening her.”
Tim stared at her.
“Right, right, I won’t let her out of my sight. You get that present, and be sure it’s wrapped.”
They walked out of the bathroom. Cass was still on the bed, happily squirming along to the movie. Tim gathered up his coat. He wondered if this was what Alfred felt like. He did have an inexplicable urge to describe things as “bloody” and make lots of pointed commentary on people’s mental states.
“Cass, I’m going out for a minute. You gonna be okay here with Steph?”
Cass nodded, then frowned. “But… but…” she gestured to TV. “Don’t you want to know if they save Christmas?”
“Relax, Cass, I’ve already seen it.”
Cass went boondoggled as Tim left, debating fiercely inside herself and looking from hand to hand as she tried to work out a personal conundrum.
“Tim can see into the future?” she asked Steph.
***
Batman slammed the hood shut. The engine had guttered out because of the cold and the car had drifted into a snow bank. Superman had hauled it out and Batman had repaired the engine. The driver thankfully shook both their hands.
“Thank you so much! Now I can get these presents to the orphanage on time! The kids will be so happy!”
Superman smiled at Batman, who kept his face resolutely blank.
“Drive safe,” he growled. “And remember to wear your seatbelt!” An implied or else lived at the end of his sentence.
“I will! Thank you, once again!”
Superman watched the taillights of the car as it drove off. “See? The Christmas spirit! Doesn’t it just warm your heart?”
“No.”
Batman turned on his heel and marched toward the Batmobile, which was parked nearby within a rough circle of road flares.
“Come on, Bruce. Can’t you celebrate Christmas at least a little?”
“I donate money to every orphanage and children’s hospital in the city. That good enough for you?”
“Christmas isn’t about money. It’s about…”
Bruce stuck a finger in his face. “You promised! Tim spends time with Cass, no lectures on the meaning of Christmas. I bought gift cards for everyone on my Christmas list.”
Superman pouted. “You got people money for Christmas?”
“How could I be expected to know what someone like Barbara…”
“A slot in the beta test for the new Orion operating system.”
“…obviously. But what would Dick…”
“Tickets to the Georgian State Dance Company.”
“Fine. But how could I be expected to know what you, a man who has everything, would want for Christmas?”
Superman gave Bruce a long look. “I’d want to spend some time with my best friend. And maybe a colander.”
***
Steph poured eggnog into shotglasses for both herself and Cass. “Okay. Whenever Rudolph’s nose glows, we take a shot.”
Cass sipped hers. “What’s this made out of?”
“I don’t know… my mom makes hers out of milk, cream, sugar… eggs. I think some nutmeg for flavor? Usually a lot of alcohol if my dad’s at home.”
Alfred had explained to Cass where eggs came from. But she still had questions. “Where does sugar come from?”
Steph told her.
“And where does cream come from?”
“Same place as the milk.”
“But where does milk come from?”
“Cows.”
Cass frowned. “How?”
“It’s kinda hard to explain…” Steph grabbed Tim’s laptop. “Let me see if I can find a video on Youtube, it kinda speaks for itself.”
***
Tim clutched his coat tight around him inside Sam Marshall’s. Something about the proprietor sitting at the cash register, brooding as darkly as a man could in a hideous chain-store vest with a nametag clipped on it, made him feel depressed. He plopped the toy down on the counter.
“Hi.” Tim tried.
Sam Marshall rung up the Robo-Rex.
“Nice weather we’re having, huh?”
Sam Marshall looked out the window at the flurry of snowflakes. “Gotham’s crying.”
“Really? I could get the metaphor if it was raining, or even sleeting, but snowflakes aren’t particularly tear-like.”
“They’ve frozen because Gotham is a frigid bitch.”
“Oh. Yes. That would explain it.”
“A frigid bitch whore.”
“Isn’t a frigid whore an oxymoron? You know, bit of a contradiction in terms?”
Sam Marshall stared at Tim.
“49.99.”
Tim handed him the money.
“Paper or plastic?”
“Paper.”
Sam Marshall threw the toy inside a paper bag.
“Merry Christmas,” Tim said.
“Only the dead have merry Christmases.”
***
Cass watched the video with growing horror.
“That’s milk?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And it comes out of them!”
“Yeah.”
Cass put her hands over her eyes, but peeked between them to see Steph drink some eggnog.
“It helps your bones grow!” Steph threatened, upper lip damp with the horrible cow-juice.
Cass backed away from her friend, slowly starting to hyperventilate. Did the public know of this? No, they couldn’t. It must be a secret available only to Batman’s allies! Otherwise, why would they drink such an awful liquid? To heck with the secret, she couldn’t let this continue! She had to warn the people!
Taking the stairs two at a time, Cass ran down to the first floor.
Everyone.
Was drinking.
Eggnog.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
She snatched a glass out of the nearest person’s hand and shattered it on the ground. “Don’t drink the eggnog!” Cass slapped another glass out of someone’s hand. “Don’t drink it!” She ran rampant through the party, spilling eggnog wherever she found it. “EGGNOG IS MADE OUT OF COWS!!! IT’S COWS!!!”
***
Batman looked at the crime board within the Batmobile. An icon indicated a disturbance at… the Drake house!?
He turned to Superman in the passenger seat. “Tim’s in trouble. Hang on, we’re going to driving a ludicrous speeds.”
Superman glanced at the speedometer. “How fast does this thing go?”
“Seven hundred miles per hour.”
“I can get us there faster.”
***
Batman reminded himself that letting Superman carry him through the night sky with arms around his chest was for the greater good.
***
Someone tried to restrain her. Obviously, the eggnog had driven him mad. Cass karate-chopped him in the neck, her least painful disablement. It wasn’t his fault. It was the eggnog.
Steph came downstairs, holding up a hand to her face. The party was in chaos. The floors ran white with eggnog. People’s clothes were splattered with it. The guests were in a full-blown riot, trying to get away from the crazy girl who’d demanded their eggnog or trying to stop her, an effort which only earned them unconsciousness.
Cass set her eyes on the punch bowl atop the buffet table. It was full of eggnog. And it had to go.
Steph followed her gaze there. She hopped the guardrail and landed between Cass and the punch bowl.
“Cass, you have to stop!”
“Out of my way, Steph!”
“There’s nothing wrong with milk! You’re overreacting! Cass, this is your chance! You can either sink down to the instincts of violence or you can rise above it and show everyone that Cassandra Cain controls her own destiny!”
Cass thought about it for a moment. Then she tackled Steph into the buffet table, spilling the punch bowl’s contents all over them. Slathered in eggnog, Cass began strangling Steph.
“You made me do shots of it!”
Just that moment, Tim snuck in through the backdoor, the fully-wrapped Robo-Rex in his hand. He looked at his girlfriend and his friend who was a girl rolling around on the floor, covered in eggnog. I’ve had dreams like this, he thought to himself. Usually after I eat a lot of chili.
“Cass,” he said helplessly, holding out her gift. “This is for you.”
Cass looked up. “For me?” She frowned. “It’s not eggnog, is it?”
Tim shook his head.
Slowly, Cass stood. With exaggerated casualness, she walked up to Tim and whispered in his ear. “Everyone here is a vampire. They live off cow-blood. We have to…” She mimed staking them.
“…Cass, I don’t think that’s a good—oh! OH! Stake them. Wow, I was way off there.”
Jack Drake stepped forward, eggnog dripping out of his hair. “Timothy Maurice Drake, what is the meaning of this!? Your friend has ruined Christmas!”
Tim held up his hands. “Hold on a minute! If you just wait, there’s a perfectly valid explanation for all of this.”
They waited, fifty party guests staring at Tim.
“Okay, that was a lie, there’s no explanation.”
Suddenly, there was a clatter on the roof. Everyone looked up to see what was the matter.
A bit of soot dripped down the chimney.
“No way,” Tim said.
Two black boots landed in the fireplace, stirring up ashes.
“No way,” Jack said.
Then a dark shape crouched down and finally Batman emerged from the fireplace in a menacing stride.
“THIS ENDS NOW, SCUMBAGS! TONIGHT YOU…” He stopped. Quizzically lifted one foot and put it down again. The soggy carpet squished under him. And what was that smell? “Eggnog?”
“It’s made from cows!” Cass reported. “I didn’t want to believe it either, but it’s true! Steph showed me!”
Steph, who had been drying herself off with several napkins, found all eyes on her. “Uh, I, uh… trying to increase her knowledge base, help her… assimilate into American…” She pointed. “LOOK, OVER THERE, A DISTRACTION!”
Everyone but Batman turned. “Nice try.”
Jack Drake stepped up to Batman, pointing a finger at Cass. “I want that girl arrested!”
“Dad, you can’t!”
“Just watch me! She’s embarrassed our family in front of all our loved ones! I want her to pay for ruining Christmas!”
“Ruined?” Superman asked, coming through the front door. “Or made better?”
A rustle went through the crowd. Superman grinned. For once, people weren’t confusing him for a bird or a plane.
“Christmas,” he began, “isn’t about parties or fancy social events.”
Batman pinched his sinuses between his fingers and shook his head. “Here we go…”
“It’s about the love of families, whether related by blood or simply by friendship, or a common cause, or that most precious of all things… love. Mr. Drake, your son loves Cass.”
“Ex-SCUSE me?” Steph said, hands planted firmly at her hips.
Superman raised his hands to ward her off. “In a platonic way. And Cass loves him, also in a platonic way. The way I see it, no matter how hard it gets or what problems it causes, bringing more love into your house isn’t a bad thing. It’s what Christmas is all about.”
A thoughtful pause ran through the crowd. Jack looked at his shoes for a moment, then up at the Man of Steel. “He’s right.” The crowd chorused their approval. “He’s right! Christmas isn’t something you put in a blender and mix with alcohol.” He tapped his heart. “It’s in here.”
“Now,” Superman said, picking up a party hat. “What say we get this party really hopping?”
***
It was a few minutes later that Superman walked out onto the porch, where Batman was standing alone in the shadows. The effect was somewhat diminished by the grill sitting nearby.
“Come on in, Batman. They’re starting a conga line.”
Batman’s eyes were white slits. “That’s not my place.”
“Bruce…”
“Clark.” Batman’s sharpness brought him up short. “I know bad things have happened to you and I know you’ve gotten over it. That’s how you work. You bring people hope. But I can’t let go of the past. My pain gives me strength. Without it, I’d lose my edge. And if that happens, people die.”
“I think that’s just the excuse you use to keep people away. Are you really telling me that if you let one person care about you, if would make you less smart, less fast, less strong?”
“It would make it hurt more when they went away.” Batman turned. “Wayne manor is a short walk from here. Go. Enjoy the party.”
Batman’s feet wouldn’t obey his orders to start walking. He heard the swish of Clark’s cape as the other man walked up to him, put a strong hand on his shoulder.
“I’d enjoy it more if I knew you were enjoying it too.”
“Unfortunately, that’s a weakness the Batman can’t afford.”
Brushing Clark’s hand off, Batman walked off into the night.
***
Steph finished balling up the last wad of tissue paper. She was dry enough, but she still smelled like eggnog. And unlike the other guests, who’d adopted it as a sort of tribal tattoo (even Superman had doused a cup over his head), she didn’t like it. Her first Christmas together with Tim as a couple… ruined.
Tim surprised her by running a finger over Steph’s cheek, then licking it. “Mmm, cinnamon.”
“Not funny.”
“Eau de eggnog… very funny, but then I have a weird sense of humor. Ready to open gifts, beautiful?”
“I’m not really in the mood.”
Tim took her hand gently. “We can watch other people open theirs.”
“Oh, where’s the fun in that?”
Smiling, Tim led her by the hand into the foyer. Cass was sitting cross-legged with a present in her lap.
“Now?” she asked.
“Now.”
She ripped through the wrapping paper, unraveling it in nanoseconds to get to what laid behind. Her eyes went wide, glowing with happiness.
“A Robo-Rex! With fully articulated limbs and a real electronic roar!” She pressed a button on the remote control and it went RRAAARGH! “How did you know?”
“It was Steph’s idea,” Tim said cheerfully.
“Well, Tim was the one who paid for…”
It was too late. Cass was already across the room and hugging Steph tightly.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Steph was stunned for a moment, then she slowly wrapped her arms around Cass and gave her a squeeze in return.
There was a knock at the door. Leaving Tim to open his present from Steph (“A Blue Beetle collectible air ship with cast-iron construction! Where’d you find this!?”), Jack Drake answered it.
Bruce Wayne shoved a modest gift box into his hands. “I know I already RSVPed, but the business meeting I was expecting got canceled. Hope you saved some eggnog.”
“No. Long story.” He gestured inside. “I trust you’ve met my close personal friend, Superman? The Superman?”
Bruce looked at Superman, as if trying to place his face. Superman beamed.
“I’m sure our paths have crossed.” From under his arm, Bruce fetched a present and handed it to Superman. “Merry Christmas.”
Superman opened it. “A colander?”
“For the man who has everything. Except a colander.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2007-12-19 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 01:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-19 11:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 01:19 am (UTC)Rankin-Bass Cass? Too much! :)
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Date: 2007-12-20 12:41 am (UTC)Hmm, wondeirng if you can clear up for me exactly what's up with Cass and talking? Because in some comics and fics and she seems to be talking like a normal person, and sometimes she's Silent But Deadly, and sometimes it's her learning to talk goofily... apparently not in chronological order! I'm confused!
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Date: 2007-12-24 01:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 04:13 am (UTC)Helena Bertinelli. Cass takes over as Batgirl later and can barely talk.
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Date: 2007-12-24 10:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 05:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-20 12:52 am (UTC)There were so many lovely little bits to this, funny and heartwarming and hi-LARIOUS! Cass was adorable and funny as hell--I loved her fascination with the robot dinosaur and her vampire staking gag had me rolling on the floor every time. And the eggnog, oh my god, I'm so not going to be able to partake of any this year without cracking up XD
And of course, humbug Bruce and Spirit of Christmas Clark were darling.
Tim's exchange with the store owner killed me.
This is going straight into the memories, and I'm pulling it out to read through on gray days :3
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Date: 2007-12-25 01:04 am (UTC)Well, I'm glad this isn't one of those things that's only funny for five minutes. Like SNL sketches and Shrek movies.
Thank you so much for the feedback!
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Date: 2007-12-20 12:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-20 03:28 am (UTC)This deserves to be published and possibly turned into a comic as *The* superhero Christmas story. It's just that damn brilliant.
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Date: 2007-12-25 01:02 am (UTC)Maybe if I throw in some gratuitious nudity and evisceration, DC will go for it.
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Date: 2007-12-20 12:02 pm (UTC)There aren't many fics where Superman continually lectures people about the True Meaning of Christmas that I could stand, but this one is truly inspired. You have a lunatic sense of comedic timing delivery that made this just a joy to read.
Cass started with fear. What if Batman and Superman weren’t slaying Dracula? What if they were, instead, sticking their fingers in their hands and pulling them out again? No! It couldn’t be true! She shook her head and mimed staking Dracula even harder.
This bit of comedy probably shouldn't have amused me so deeply. And yet it did. At a can't-seem-to-stop chuckling level.
“Only the dead have merry Christmases.”
But I think the true winner of this story was Sam Marshall, the Goddamn Retail Store Owner. Just...awesome.
And the colander made me beam.
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Date: 2007-12-25 01:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-20 12:11 pm (UTC)Thank you for restoring my faith in holiday fics.
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Date: 2007-12-20 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-21 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-22 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 10:34 pm (UTC)So, you loved everything then? :)
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Date: 2007-12-24 11:53 am (UTC)Thank you for the wacky.
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Date: 2007-12-24 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-30 06:38 pm (UTC)It's awfully early in the fic to be killing your audience.
But here I am. Dead.
“There now.” Clark clapped a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Doesn’t that warm your heart with the Christmas spirit?”
“Don’t touch me.”
Oddly enough, I actually found myself sympathizing with Bats, here. I mean, this must feel like a literal VIOLATION of who and what he is. He's being raped right in his philosophy-ass with Christmas spirit.
Cass started with fear. What if Batman and Superman weren’t slaying Dracula? What if they were, instead, sticking their fingers in their hands and pulling them out again? No! It couldn’t be true! She shook her head and mimed staking Dracula even harder.
... *tilts and falls over*
Cass was bouncing up and down with excitement, karaoking to Robo-Rex’s theme song. She actually had a pretty good singing voice, even if it was singing the virtues of a toy guaranteed to rampage 110% more destructively than the competitor’s remote-control dinosaur.
Oh.
My.
God.
I think it's entirely possible that this fic has become my favorite thing in the entirety of existence, at least for the moment.
She snatched a glass out of the nearest person’s hand and shattered it on the ground. “Don’t drink the eggnog!” Cass slapped another glass out of someone’s hand. “Don’t drink it!” She ran rampant through the party, spilling eggnog wherever she found it. “EGGNOG IS MADE OUT OF COWS!!! IT’S COWS!!!”
That moment seems to be holding.
But yes, the big blue cheese was really amusing in this, walking that line between goofy parody and just being what he is, someone that just doesn't Get It on why some people can't feel and think like he does, partly because he doesn't want to, but in a much more warm-hearted and positive way than a lot of people with that kind of outlook do.
Also, Cass... was just hilariously insane in this. XD There's no other word for it, she's just nuts, and it is glorious.
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Date: 2008-01-12 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-12 03:55 am (UTC)Udder madness, I know.
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Date: 2008-03-09 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-16 04:04 am (UTC)Questioningly, Cass mimed plunging a stake into a vampire’s chest. Hand gripping the invisible stake, motioning it up and down, up and down, up and down…
Batman’s eyes went round. “Who told you that?”
LOL! Oh gods, that was hilarious. It was great how it kept coming back throughout the story, too, until Tim finally figured out that Cass was talking about vampires. =P
Loved all of Cass's faux pas, from mistaking the holly for mistletoe, to the egg nog catastrophe of DOOM!
The Robo-Rex was awesome ... it was really cool how you used it both with the poor plumber guy Supes and Bats apprehended, and then later as the present Cass wanted. :)
Steph ruffled Cass’s hair on the way.
“Don’t run off, ‘kay?”
That was cute. :D
Batman reminded himself that letting Superman carry him through the night sky with arms around his chest was for the greater good.
Comedy gold!
Oh gods, I could really quote this entire fic. Also, I just love how Clark's sincerity broke through the dogged cheerfulness every once in a while:
Superman gave Bruce a long look. “I’d want to spend some time with my best friend. And maybe a colander.”
Everyone mistaking Batman for Santa was priceless. And the ending!!!!!! Bruce showed up with a colander *squee* This made my night!
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Date: 2009-02-26 08:41 pm (UTC)Brilliant.