Thought of Waiting 'till Christmas....Then Slapped Myself
I went to the Planet Comicon the other day, and I'm soooo filled with comic-joy! I thought I would go easy on the purchases this time, but that just shows how little I know myself. I got dozens of miscellaneous issues, several tpbs, The Mystery of the Batwoman dvd, a print of Superboy & Wondergirl, and a Nightwing T-shirt.
My current sadness is that these conventions can really make me notice which issues I'm missing sometimes. I had a few things I was specifically searching for and I only got two of those. If only I knew where to find Young Justice #20 and the "World without YJ" Robin issue...
As for the fic, I thought for a split-second about actually waiting till Christmas to post this, but then I thought "What am I thinking? I don't have that kind of patience!" So, here ya go...
Title: It’s Nice to be Told
Rating: G
Chars: Jack & Tim Drake
Summary: It *is* nice to be told, and for Tim Drake, that’s a serious understatement.
Disclaimer: The characters are DC’s. It’s not my fault they leave so much emotional territory uncharted.
He’s passing by during the Holiday Shopping Rush that seems to overtake everyone at this time of year. He’s feeling joyful because he’s Jack Drake and he’s out shopping to get a present for his beautiful new wife, Dana. He’s decided to not be like everyone else, and take his time. Perhaps it’s because he’s in no hurry that he actually reads the sign: Have You Told Your Kids You Love ‘Em Today? It’s a simple add for new child’s toy, but it makes Jack think. Has he told his son any such thing today? Has he talked to Tim at all today? Now that it’s been brought to his attention, he realizes that he hasn’t at all. He woke up, saw Tim walk out the door with a breakfast bar in hand, and plopped down to sip on the coffee that his boy had left for him. With a twinge of guilt and a spark of resolve, Jack firmly decides to show some affection towards his son today.
He gets home a lot later than he originally planned. All he wants to do is hide the gifts, and curl up with Dana for the rest of the night. But no. Tim first. He promised himself. He sits on the couch and proceeds to wait for Tim to get home. He waits. And waits. Does Tim always come home so late? Shouldn’t he already know the answer to that? Perhaps it is only the waiting that makes it seem so long. Yes, that must be it.
It takes hours, but Tim finally steps through the door. He looks...completely exhausted. Totally beat. Are those bruises? No, just a trick of the light. As tired as he seems, he passes by Jack with a mumbled greeting as he trudges up the first few steps, prepared to call it a day.
“Son?” he interups.
“Dad?”
Jack pauses. He doesn’t really know where to begin. He knows what he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to say it too abruptly or randomly. Perhaps...small talk first?
“How was your day?”
“Hmm, not too much happening.”
“You seem pretty tuckered out.”
“Hung with a few friends today. One of ‘em has a...short...attention span and can run a guy pretty ragged. Had to make sure none of the other guys succeeded in throttling him.”
Jack feels a hint of sucess when a tiny smile lights upon one end of Tim’s mouth.
“Well, just be glad it’s not new years yet. When that time comes around for rambunctions kids like those...”
The smile grows wider and more substantial.
“Oh, believe me, Dad, I’m already dreading it.”
Jack allows himself a light chuckle and a smile of his own.
“Well, merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Dad.”
That’s it. The perfect moment. He’ll never get a better opening. He calmly approaches the youth on the steps, not too fast, not too slow, and sweeps him up in the biggest hug he can manage.
“I love you, Tim.”
He can feel Tim instantly stiffen in his arms and quickly pull back, a growing fear overtaking his face.
“Dad, has...has something happened? Are you ok?”
Jack is puzzled to realize that he is not the least bit familiar with the expression in his boy’s eyes. Tim seems to be...searching him. His stance, his hair, his eyebrows, his forehead, looking for any indication of pain or illness or bad news.
“No, son. Nothing’s the matter. I just...I just wanted to tell you I love you.”
His eyes seem impossibly wide before they soften into an expression of wonder. He seems strangely awestruck, and if Jack actually trusted the lighting in the room, he’d almost swear that those were tears threatening to fall.
“I...I love you too, Dad. Merry Christmas.”
This time, Tim returns the hug with an enthusiasm he’s never seen the youth devote to work or play. Jack fondly wonders when his boy got so strong.
~ f i n ~
My current sadness is that these conventions can really make me notice which issues I'm missing sometimes. I had a few things I was specifically searching for and I only got two of those. If only I knew where to find Young Justice #20 and the "World without YJ" Robin issue...
As for the fic, I thought for a split-second about actually waiting till Christmas to post this, but then I thought "What am I thinking? I don't have that kind of patience!" So, here ya go...
Title: It’s Nice to be Told
Rating: G
Chars: Jack & Tim Drake
Summary: It *is* nice to be told, and for Tim Drake, that’s a serious understatement.
Disclaimer: The characters are DC’s. It’s not my fault they leave so much emotional territory uncharted.
He’s passing by during the Holiday Shopping Rush that seems to overtake everyone at this time of year. He’s feeling joyful because he’s Jack Drake and he’s out shopping to get a present for his beautiful new wife, Dana. He’s decided to not be like everyone else, and take his time. Perhaps it’s because he’s in no hurry that he actually reads the sign: Have You Told Your Kids You Love ‘Em Today? It’s a simple add for new child’s toy, but it makes Jack think. Has he told his son any such thing today? Has he talked to Tim at all today? Now that it’s been brought to his attention, he realizes that he hasn’t at all. He woke up, saw Tim walk out the door with a breakfast bar in hand, and plopped down to sip on the coffee that his boy had left for him. With a twinge of guilt and a spark of resolve, Jack firmly decides to show some affection towards his son today.
He gets home a lot later than he originally planned. All he wants to do is hide the gifts, and curl up with Dana for the rest of the night. But no. Tim first. He promised himself. He sits on the couch and proceeds to wait for Tim to get home. He waits. And waits. Does Tim always come home so late? Shouldn’t he already know the answer to that? Perhaps it is only the waiting that makes it seem so long. Yes, that must be it.
It takes hours, but Tim finally steps through the door. He looks...completely exhausted. Totally beat. Are those bruises? No, just a trick of the light. As tired as he seems, he passes by Jack with a mumbled greeting as he trudges up the first few steps, prepared to call it a day.
“Son?” he interups.
“Dad?”
Jack pauses. He doesn’t really know where to begin. He knows what he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to say it too abruptly or randomly. Perhaps...small talk first?
“How was your day?”
“Hmm, not too much happening.”
“You seem pretty tuckered out.”
“Hung with a few friends today. One of ‘em has a...short...attention span and can run a guy pretty ragged. Had to make sure none of the other guys succeeded in throttling him.”
Jack feels a hint of sucess when a tiny smile lights upon one end of Tim’s mouth.
“Well, just be glad it’s not new years yet. When that time comes around for rambunctions kids like those...”
The smile grows wider and more substantial.
“Oh, believe me, Dad, I’m already dreading it.”
Jack allows himself a light chuckle and a smile of his own.
“Well, merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Dad.”
That’s it. The perfect moment. He’ll never get a better opening. He calmly approaches the youth on the steps, not too fast, not too slow, and sweeps him up in the biggest hug he can manage.
“I love you, Tim.”
He can feel Tim instantly stiffen in his arms and quickly pull back, a growing fear overtaking his face.
“Dad, has...has something happened? Are you ok?”
Jack is puzzled to realize that he is not the least bit familiar with the expression in his boy’s eyes. Tim seems to be...searching him. His stance, his hair, his eyebrows, his forehead, looking for any indication of pain or illness or bad news.
“No, son. Nothing’s the matter. I just...I just wanted to tell you I love you.”
His eyes seem impossibly wide before they soften into an expression of wonder. He seems strangely awestruck, and if Jack actually trusted the lighting in the room, he’d almost swear that those were tears threatening to fall.
“I...I love you too, Dad. Merry Christmas.”
This time, Tim returns the hug with an enthusiasm he’s never seen the youth devote to work or play. Jack fondly wonders when his boy got so strong.
~ f i n ~