Fic: The Greatest Gift I Can Give You | DCU/SR/BB | Clark/Bruce | PG-13 | 8/8
Title: The Greatest Gift I Can Give You - Part 8
Fandom: DCU (Superman Returns/Batman Begins)
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,125 (this section)
Summary: (this section) Christmas has come to Wayne Manor!
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: Written for The Greatest Gift: A Superman/Batman Fanzine. This is it, the last part. I hope you've all enjoyed the ride as much as I have. ^_^ *huge hugs to all*
Index Post
Part 8
Jason wakes on Christmas Eve morning to the sound of something hitting the window with light, sharp taps. Blinking away the sleep, he throws back his covers, figuring it's probably raining. Just my luck, he thinks, just like his Mom says. He's still never seen snow on Christmas, like they have in all the stories and the specials on TV. His eyes land first on the two action figures perched on the bedside table, their fists poised and ready to take on the nasty rain and make it nice outside. “Bet you guys could make it-”
But his mouth falls open as his gaze finally travels over to the window and he sees it.
“It's snowing!!” he shouts, jumping up on his bed and bouncing. “It's snowing, it's snowing!! It's-” he stops himself, little heart pounding with glee. “I gotta wake Dick up!”
Landing hard on the floor, he thunders out of his room and makes a hard left, going straight for his new friend's room to get him out of bed. He throws the door open with an almost-crash. “Dick!” he calls out, heading for the other boy's bed and grabbing his shoulder through the covers to wake him. “Wake up! Wake up! It's snowing! It's snowing!”
Mumbling sleepily, Dick shifts, then opens his eyes one by one beneath shaggy black hair. “Huh?”
“It's snowing, wake up, already!” Jason prods him, shaking his shoulder again with a little more force.
“Gaahh!!” the other boy protests, coming awake and moving to sit up. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Take it easy, I'm awake, already. What's all the fuss for?”
“It's snowing outside, I said! It's snowing!”
Dick blinks toward his window, both boys watching the fat flakes hitting the glass and decidedly not melting. “Okay,” the older boy shrugs, “it's snowing. What's the big deal?”
Jason hops up on the bed to sit next to him, not understanding how Dick can be not excited. “It's snowing on Christmas Eve,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “That doesn't ever happen!”
“Sure it does!” Dick counters. “In Europe, there are places that are covered in snow all the time, so if you want to have snow on Christmas, you just drive a few miles, and bam! White Christmas,” he finishes with a loud clap.
The younger boy only stares, envying his new friend. “I wish I could just go somewhere that it snowed all the time.”
“Don't you get to travel much? I thought your other Dad was an international reporter?”
Jason shakes his head. “Nope. Even when Daddy gets to travel, I have to stay home. We used to go up on Dad's plane a lot, and sometimes fly to the lake in the summer, but we haven't gone anywhere in a long time.”
Dick's face scrunches up in confusion, not believing a kid could be tied down and not allowed to do anything or go anywhere like that. “So... you have to stay put all the time, even though you can go places if you want?”
“Yup.”
“And you don't ever get snow on Christmas?”
“Nope.”
Looking out the window, then back at Jason, another cold reality settles in on Dick, and he stubbornly resolves, “Well... I guess we'd better make the most of the snow before it goes away, then!”
A grin alights on Jason's face as he thinks this might get to be the best Christmas he's ever had. “Yay!!”
* * * * *
An hour later the two boys are finishing breakfast in the kitchen with Bruce, Alfred insisting on working on Christmas Eve dinner and popping huge bowls of popcorn - for later, they've been told - while the trio polishes off the last of the banana nut pancakes and maple sausages. Jason thinks it's the best breakfast he's ever eaten, but he just can't wait to go play in the snow. “Hurry up, Dick, I wanna go outside!” he rushes the other boy, bouncing in his seat.
“Hold on, you two,” Bruce says, holding up his fork. “We've got something to take care of before you can go out and play.”
Dick knows the look Bruce is giving them. Something is up. “What is it?” he asks cautiously, before stuffing the last bite of sausage into his mouth.
“Something Clark and I-”
“Hmm-hmm,” Alfred clears his throat.
“-and Alfred! - have been looking forward to,” he finishes with a smirk at the butler.
As if on cue, there's the sound of doors being thrown wide open from the back entrance. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” comes Clark's cheerful voice, booming though the Manor.
Leaping from the table with barely a glance at each other, Dick and Jason run to intercept him, stocking feet pounding in a mad stampede on the floors as Bruce and Alfred trail behind.
The sight that meets them makes the boys' eyes light up, Clark carrying at least a ten-foot-tall Christmas tree in through the immense rear foyer and toward the living room. “Merry Christmas!” he greets them again, grinning from ear to ear at their chorus of astonished exclamations.
Following him, the boys squealing and chattering happily, they all watch expectantly as he sets and secures the tree into the stand Alfred has set up at one end of the living room. The tree reaches nearly to the vaulted ceiling, its branches spread wide as they fall into their natural positions.
Jason is the first to touch it, sliding his fingers over the surprisingly soft needles and watching them spring back into place behind his hand. “Wow...” he breathes for the tenth time, looking up from the height of the tree to Clark. “We never had a real tree at home before!”
Clark kneels next to him. “Well, you'll always have a real tree here. I promise,” he says warmly, drawing his little boy into a hug.
Next to them, Dick paces around the tree, eying it from all angles. After a few moments of close scrutiny, he puts his hands on his hips and says, with grinning declaration, “This is definitely better than any tree we ever had at the circus. Never had one this huge. So. Can we decorate it now?”
Bruce chuckles at how easy the boys set aside their plans to play in the snow. “I thought you'd never ask! Clark, you handle the lights. Alfred, you come with me and we can dig out those boxes of ornaments.”
“Your parents' ornaments, Master Bruce?” the butler questions carefully.
“The same,” he confirms, his face more relaxed and at peace than even Alfred remembers seeing in many years. “Dick, Jason, go and grab those bowls of popcorn from the kitchen. There's a big needle and some string over there on the coffee table that you two can use to start making some garland.”
“You make garland out of popcorn?” Jason asks, not ever having heard of such a thing.
“Yeah! You just string it all together,” Dick says. “It's really fun!”
Ruffling the younger boy's hair, Clark suggests, “We can all make it together while Bruce and Alfred hunt up those ornaments.”
“Okay!” Jason nods.
As the two boys run off toward the kitchen with grins plastered on their faces, then, Clark turns to Bruce. “Are we gonna have enough ornaments for this tree?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
“God, I hope so,” Bruce frowns in mock horror. “And if not, we can always make more, right?”
* * * * *
“And this one,” Bruce says, lifting an old, chipped ornament from a flat box, “was in honor of my very first Christmas.” As he holds it up, the light catches the silver of the star clutched in the hands of a tiny, hand-painted little boy.
“That's beautiful!” Dick breathes. He can hardly believe all the antique ornaments, most of what's left of them charred and cracked from the fire that destroyed the original Manor. The stories Bruce has for each one go back generations, all the way to the eighteen hundreds. It's almost more than the little boy can take in at once, and he's sure Jason's head is spinning with it all, too.
His stomach all jittery as Bruce hands him the last of the fragile ornaments to hang on the tree with the others, he hopes he might get to have an ornament with his name on it, too. His own story to add to the legacy of Wayne Manor.
“All right, that's the last,” Clark announces, plugging in the final strand of twinkling multicolored lights. Standing back, he hugs Jason around the shoulders. “There's just one more thing. Bruce, after you.”
Clearing his throat, Bruce retrieves a small box from the fireplace mantel. “In honor of our first Christmas together, Clark and I thought we'd do something special for the tree.” He kneels then, pulling the lid off the box gently. Tissue paper is folded aside, and as the two little boys peer down into the box, a set of ornaments is revealed.
One shining red and blue ball, with the crest of the House of El glittering in red and yellow relief against the glass. One black and silver ball, with a sparkling silver bat etched on one side. Another red and blue, with the crest of the House of El etched in silver and gold. And the last, a brightly sparkling green, red, and yellow ball, with the image of a little boy swinging from a trapeze shining and glittering in the light.
The boys stand speechless, their mouths agape, until Clark prods Jason gently. “Go on, the third one is yours.”
“It's really mine?” the little boy asks hesitantly. Mommy would never let him have something like this before.
“It's all yours, Jason,” Clark insists, kneeling to hug him tightly again, his heart swelling with love for this amazing little boy that he can finally call his own. His son. “Everything I have is yours. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Clark. I'm so glad you came back. I love you,” he chokes, hugging Clark tighter. He can't believe how awesome it's been already, coming to spend Christmas with Clark and Bruce, making a new friend. It's so much more than he could have ever imagined, it's... it's just too much, and he lets out a little sob.
“I love you, too, Jason. I love you, too.”
Watching them, Dick can't help a pang of jealousy and longing, missing his Mom and Dad. He wishes so much that he could have them back, that he could have kept them from being taken away from him in the first place. That he could spend Christmas with them, at the circus... But he knows it's selfish to be jealous of Jason. After all, his new friend had never even seen a trapeze before yesterday. He's glad he could share that with him.
The thought brings his attention back to the colorful, sparkling ornament already dangling from his hand. It's the prettiest thing he's ever had, he thinks. And it's all his. His own story to add to the tree. Knowing he's not alone here, that he's got the two greatest heroes and the coolest butler in the world taking care of him, that he's got a friend now to share it all with, he just can't be sad anymore.
His Mom and Dad would want him to be happy.
Smiling again, he looks to Bruce, the man also watching Clark and Jason with a distant expression on his face. “This is awesome, Bruce. Thank you. For everything,” he grins, his heart filling with gratitude again as he grabs the Bat in a hug of his own.
Startled out of his own reverie, Bruce returns Dick's hug, glad he could make a difference in the life of this - his - little acrobat, his little boy. After a moment spent choking back an involuntary whimpered sob, he manages, “You're welcome, Dick. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Dick echoes happily.
The sound of Alfred clearing his throat brings them all back to the present. “I'm loathe to interrupt this beautiful moment, but perhaps you should all hang your ornaments on the tree, before they get broken.”
Four pairs of blue eyes look up to find the butler standing in the entrance to the living room, a tray with four mugs of hot cocoa in his hands.
“Probably a good idea, Alfred,” Bruce smirks. “Now put that down. You don't think we forgot you, did you?”
“Sir?” the older man questions as he sets the tray on the coffee table.
Folding back another bit of tissue paper in the box, Bruce reveals the fifth and final ornament, and holds it up into the light. The shining black and silver ball spins lazily around, revealing an image of Wayne Manor etched in gold.
“Master Bruce!” Alfred breathes, taking the ornament in hand. “This is too much, sir!”
“False modesty will get you nowhere, Alfred,” Bruce smirks. “Besides, you're just as much a part of this family as any of us. If it weren't for you, none of us would be standing here right now.”
“Your parents would be right proud of you, sir. Thank you,” he nods with a tight grin, moving forward to add his ornament to the tree as the rest of the family adds theirs as well.
Standing back, the three men and two boys admire the eclectic tree. Green, red, blue, yellow, and white lights twinkling, popcorn garland draped around, the Wayne family ornaments faded and cracked, a brilliant star perched on the top branch high above, and five new shining Christmas balls glittering and sparkling in the light. The sight brings a tear to Clark's eyes and makes Bruce swell with pride. Their tree. Their family tree.
“Can we go play in the snow now?” Jason pipes up, breaking the spell.
Sharing a look, Clark and Bruce break out into hearty laughter.
“By all means,” Bruce says, “go play!”
“Don't forget your hat and gloves, Jason!” Clark calls after them as the two boys sprint off to have their fun, Alfred disappearing, presumably to get back to Christmas Eve dinner, if the wonderful smells of turkey and gingerbread wafting from the kitchen are to be believed.
Then Bruce and Clark are alone in the living room, staring at the tree and leaning into one another. Neither can believe they've come so far in only a few short months; it seems like yesterday that the Manor was a silent, hulking place with no light, no laughter.
Pulling away from his lover and partner, Clark grabs up two cups of cocoa from the tray Alfred left, handing one to Bruce and sipping the warm, rich liquid. Almost as good as Ma's, he thinks as the pair moves to gaze out the enormous picture window and watch the boys playing in the snow. Already, Dick and Jason are beginning to roll large balls across the yard to make a snowman, their heavy winter coats swallowing them.
“I never thought we'd get those ornaments done in time,” Bruce confesses lightly.
“With me on the job?” Clark gasps in mock offense.
Bruce smiles that toothy smile that's always made his Kryptonian melt. “Heh. I stand corrected.”
“Darn right. You should know by now never to underestimate Superman.”
“Or Batman, for that matter,” Bruce finishes. “So, how do you think we're doing so far?” he wonders between sips of cocoa.
Clark grins, “I think we're doing pretty well, actually. Jason and Dick... both of them seem really happy.”
“I think so, too. Can't wait to see how much happier Dick is when we go to visit Haly's tomorrow.”
“They're in Gotham again?”
“Mm-hmm. For a few days. They're giving a Christmas show,” Bruce answers quietly, his gaze transfixed on the little acrobat. “Jason will love it, too,” he adds, giving Clark a knowing sideways glance as they both remember Clark's anguish over not being able to take his little boy before.
The taller man is taken aback by Bruce's surprise. “Thank you,” he breathes.
Bruce smirks, reaching over and interlacing his fingers with his lover's. “I bet he'll be ecstatic to meet his Grandma Kent the day after tomorrow, too. Same for Dick. And you know I'm terrified.”
Sighing happily and still somewhat overwhelmed by it all, Clark gives partner a quirky smile. “I can't wait for you and Dick to finally meet her. And you have no idea how long I've been waiting for Ma to meet Jason.”
“Fourteen months, twenty-six days, fifteen hours, and forty-one minutes,” Bruce rattles off easily, finishing with a sip of cocoa. “And counting.”
“Wha- You've been counting!?” Clark gapes. At Bruce's shrug, he narrows his eyes. “You know, you can be a bigger smart ass than me, sometimes.”
“Gotta keep you on your toes,” the Bat smirks again.
With a chuckle, Clark shakes his head, releasing Bruce's hand and slipping an arm around his waist, and the two men settle against each other, watching their boys play in the glistening wonderland, assembling their snowman.
“Thank you, Bruce,” Clark says after a long while.
“For what?”
“For this. For everything. You gave me my life back. My career. My son.”
Hearing the choked back sob in his lover's voice, Bruce sets his cocoa down on the window ledge, taking Clark's and depositing it as well. “Clark,” he starts, gripping his lover's shoulders through the faded red plaid flannel. “Your career was your doing. Otherwise, I only gave you what I could. And helping you get your son back was the greatest gift I could ever think to give you. I love you.”
“But, I-” Clark begins to protest, before Bruce shushes him, answering his needless humility and embarrassment, and brushing an errant lock of hair back from his eyes.
“And you've given me the greatest gift I've ever received, too. You've kept me grounded, kept me from losing it when I was so worried about taking Dick in. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
With his expression softening into a smile at that, Clark dips his head toward Bruce's, drawing his partner close and breathing in his scent of expensive cologne, Christmas tree, and cocoa. “I love you, too,” he whispers, and when Bruce's arms slip around Clark's neck, the two men meld together in a deep kiss that warms them both to the very center of their beings.
It's already a Christmas that neither of them will ever forget, the Christmas that the Wayne/Kent family, their family, became whole. And even with the actual holiday still many hours away, neither Clark nor Bruce can think of any way it could possibly get any better. It's already perfect.
* * * * *
Fandom: DCU (Superman Returns/Batman Begins)
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,125 (this section)
Summary: (this section) Christmas has come to Wayne Manor!
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: Written for The Greatest Gift: A Superman/Batman Fanzine. This is it, the last part. I hope you've all enjoyed the ride as much as I have. ^_^ *huge hugs to all*
Index Post
Part 8
Jason wakes on Christmas Eve morning to the sound of something hitting the window with light, sharp taps. Blinking away the sleep, he throws back his covers, figuring it's probably raining. Just my luck, he thinks, just like his Mom says. He's still never seen snow on Christmas, like they have in all the stories and the specials on TV. His eyes land first on the two action figures perched on the bedside table, their fists poised and ready to take on the nasty rain and make it nice outside. “Bet you guys could make it-”
But his mouth falls open as his gaze finally travels over to the window and he sees it.
“It's snowing!!” he shouts, jumping up on his bed and bouncing. “It's snowing, it's snowing!! It's-” he stops himself, little heart pounding with glee. “I gotta wake Dick up!”
Landing hard on the floor, he thunders out of his room and makes a hard left, going straight for his new friend's room to get him out of bed. He throws the door open with an almost-crash. “Dick!” he calls out, heading for the other boy's bed and grabbing his shoulder through the covers to wake him. “Wake up! Wake up! It's snowing! It's snowing!”
Mumbling sleepily, Dick shifts, then opens his eyes one by one beneath shaggy black hair. “Huh?”
“It's snowing, wake up, already!” Jason prods him, shaking his shoulder again with a little more force.
“Gaahh!!” the other boy protests, coming awake and moving to sit up. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Take it easy, I'm awake, already. What's all the fuss for?”
“It's snowing outside, I said! It's snowing!”
Dick blinks toward his window, both boys watching the fat flakes hitting the glass and decidedly not melting. “Okay,” the older boy shrugs, “it's snowing. What's the big deal?”
Jason hops up on the bed to sit next to him, not understanding how Dick can be not excited. “It's snowing on Christmas Eve,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “That doesn't ever happen!”
“Sure it does!” Dick counters. “In Europe, there are places that are covered in snow all the time, so if you want to have snow on Christmas, you just drive a few miles, and bam! White Christmas,” he finishes with a loud clap.
The younger boy only stares, envying his new friend. “I wish I could just go somewhere that it snowed all the time.”
“Don't you get to travel much? I thought your other Dad was an international reporter?”
Jason shakes his head. “Nope. Even when Daddy gets to travel, I have to stay home. We used to go up on Dad's plane a lot, and sometimes fly to the lake in the summer, but we haven't gone anywhere in a long time.”
Dick's face scrunches up in confusion, not believing a kid could be tied down and not allowed to do anything or go anywhere like that. “So... you have to stay put all the time, even though you can go places if you want?”
“Yup.”
“And you don't ever get snow on Christmas?”
“Nope.”
Looking out the window, then back at Jason, another cold reality settles in on Dick, and he stubbornly resolves, “Well... I guess we'd better make the most of the snow before it goes away, then!”
A grin alights on Jason's face as he thinks this might get to be the best Christmas he's ever had. “Yay!!”
* * * * *
An hour later the two boys are finishing breakfast in the kitchen with Bruce, Alfred insisting on working on Christmas Eve dinner and popping huge bowls of popcorn - for later, they've been told - while the trio polishes off the last of the banana nut pancakes and maple sausages. Jason thinks it's the best breakfast he's ever eaten, but he just can't wait to go play in the snow. “Hurry up, Dick, I wanna go outside!” he rushes the other boy, bouncing in his seat.
“Hold on, you two,” Bruce says, holding up his fork. “We've got something to take care of before you can go out and play.”
Dick knows the look Bruce is giving them. Something is up. “What is it?” he asks cautiously, before stuffing the last bite of sausage into his mouth.
“Something Clark and I-”
“Hmm-hmm,” Alfred clears his throat.
“-and Alfred! - have been looking forward to,” he finishes with a smirk at the butler.
As if on cue, there's the sound of doors being thrown wide open from the back entrance. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” comes Clark's cheerful voice, booming though the Manor.
Leaping from the table with barely a glance at each other, Dick and Jason run to intercept him, stocking feet pounding in a mad stampede on the floors as Bruce and Alfred trail behind.
The sight that meets them makes the boys' eyes light up, Clark carrying at least a ten-foot-tall Christmas tree in through the immense rear foyer and toward the living room. “Merry Christmas!” he greets them again, grinning from ear to ear at their chorus of astonished exclamations.
Following him, the boys squealing and chattering happily, they all watch expectantly as he sets and secures the tree into the stand Alfred has set up at one end of the living room. The tree reaches nearly to the vaulted ceiling, its branches spread wide as they fall into their natural positions.
Jason is the first to touch it, sliding his fingers over the surprisingly soft needles and watching them spring back into place behind his hand. “Wow...” he breathes for the tenth time, looking up from the height of the tree to Clark. “We never had a real tree at home before!”
Clark kneels next to him. “Well, you'll always have a real tree here. I promise,” he says warmly, drawing his little boy into a hug.
Next to them, Dick paces around the tree, eying it from all angles. After a few moments of close scrutiny, he puts his hands on his hips and says, with grinning declaration, “This is definitely better than any tree we ever had at the circus. Never had one this huge. So. Can we decorate it now?”
Bruce chuckles at how easy the boys set aside their plans to play in the snow. “I thought you'd never ask! Clark, you handle the lights. Alfred, you come with me and we can dig out those boxes of ornaments.”
“Your parents' ornaments, Master Bruce?” the butler questions carefully.
“The same,” he confirms, his face more relaxed and at peace than even Alfred remembers seeing in many years. “Dick, Jason, go and grab those bowls of popcorn from the kitchen. There's a big needle and some string over there on the coffee table that you two can use to start making some garland.”
“You make garland out of popcorn?” Jason asks, not ever having heard of such a thing.
“Yeah! You just string it all together,” Dick says. “It's really fun!”
Ruffling the younger boy's hair, Clark suggests, “We can all make it together while Bruce and Alfred hunt up those ornaments.”
“Okay!” Jason nods.
As the two boys run off toward the kitchen with grins plastered on their faces, then, Clark turns to Bruce. “Are we gonna have enough ornaments for this tree?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
“God, I hope so,” Bruce frowns in mock horror. “And if not, we can always make more, right?”
* * * * *
“And this one,” Bruce says, lifting an old, chipped ornament from a flat box, “was in honor of my very first Christmas.” As he holds it up, the light catches the silver of the star clutched in the hands of a tiny, hand-painted little boy.
“That's beautiful!” Dick breathes. He can hardly believe all the antique ornaments, most of what's left of them charred and cracked from the fire that destroyed the original Manor. The stories Bruce has for each one go back generations, all the way to the eighteen hundreds. It's almost more than the little boy can take in at once, and he's sure Jason's head is spinning with it all, too.
His stomach all jittery as Bruce hands him the last of the fragile ornaments to hang on the tree with the others, he hopes he might get to have an ornament with his name on it, too. His own story to add to the legacy of Wayne Manor.
“All right, that's the last,” Clark announces, plugging in the final strand of twinkling multicolored lights. Standing back, he hugs Jason around the shoulders. “There's just one more thing. Bruce, after you.”
Clearing his throat, Bruce retrieves a small box from the fireplace mantel. “In honor of our first Christmas together, Clark and I thought we'd do something special for the tree.” He kneels then, pulling the lid off the box gently. Tissue paper is folded aside, and as the two little boys peer down into the box, a set of ornaments is revealed.
One shining red and blue ball, with the crest of the House of El glittering in red and yellow relief against the glass. One black and silver ball, with a sparkling silver bat etched on one side. Another red and blue, with the crest of the House of El etched in silver and gold. And the last, a brightly sparkling green, red, and yellow ball, with the image of a little boy swinging from a trapeze shining and glittering in the light.
The boys stand speechless, their mouths agape, until Clark prods Jason gently. “Go on, the third one is yours.”
“It's really mine?” the little boy asks hesitantly. Mommy would never let him have something like this before.
“It's all yours, Jason,” Clark insists, kneeling to hug him tightly again, his heart swelling with love for this amazing little boy that he can finally call his own. His son. “Everything I have is yours. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Clark. I'm so glad you came back. I love you,” he chokes, hugging Clark tighter. He can't believe how awesome it's been already, coming to spend Christmas with Clark and Bruce, making a new friend. It's so much more than he could have ever imagined, it's... it's just too much, and he lets out a little sob.
“I love you, too, Jason. I love you, too.”
Watching them, Dick can't help a pang of jealousy and longing, missing his Mom and Dad. He wishes so much that he could have them back, that he could have kept them from being taken away from him in the first place. That he could spend Christmas with them, at the circus... But he knows it's selfish to be jealous of Jason. After all, his new friend had never even seen a trapeze before yesterday. He's glad he could share that with him.
The thought brings his attention back to the colorful, sparkling ornament already dangling from his hand. It's the prettiest thing he's ever had, he thinks. And it's all his. His own story to add to the tree. Knowing he's not alone here, that he's got the two greatest heroes and the coolest butler in the world taking care of him, that he's got a friend now to share it all with, he just can't be sad anymore.
His Mom and Dad would want him to be happy.
Smiling again, he looks to Bruce, the man also watching Clark and Jason with a distant expression on his face. “This is awesome, Bruce. Thank you. For everything,” he grins, his heart filling with gratitude again as he grabs the Bat in a hug of his own.
Startled out of his own reverie, Bruce returns Dick's hug, glad he could make a difference in the life of this - his - little acrobat, his little boy. After a moment spent choking back an involuntary whimpered sob, he manages, “You're welcome, Dick. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Dick echoes happily.
The sound of Alfred clearing his throat brings them all back to the present. “I'm loathe to interrupt this beautiful moment, but perhaps you should all hang your ornaments on the tree, before they get broken.”
Four pairs of blue eyes look up to find the butler standing in the entrance to the living room, a tray with four mugs of hot cocoa in his hands.
“Probably a good idea, Alfred,” Bruce smirks. “Now put that down. You don't think we forgot you, did you?”
“Sir?” the older man questions as he sets the tray on the coffee table.
Folding back another bit of tissue paper in the box, Bruce reveals the fifth and final ornament, and holds it up into the light. The shining black and silver ball spins lazily around, revealing an image of Wayne Manor etched in gold.
“Master Bruce!” Alfred breathes, taking the ornament in hand. “This is too much, sir!”
“False modesty will get you nowhere, Alfred,” Bruce smirks. “Besides, you're just as much a part of this family as any of us. If it weren't for you, none of us would be standing here right now.”
“Your parents would be right proud of you, sir. Thank you,” he nods with a tight grin, moving forward to add his ornament to the tree as the rest of the family adds theirs as well.
Standing back, the three men and two boys admire the eclectic tree. Green, red, blue, yellow, and white lights twinkling, popcorn garland draped around, the Wayne family ornaments faded and cracked, a brilliant star perched on the top branch high above, and five new shining Christmas balls glittering and sparkling in the light. The sight brings a tear to Clark's eyes and makes Bruce swell with pride. Their tree. Their family tree.
“Can we go play in the snow now?” Jason pipes up, breaking the spell.
Sharing a look, Clark and Bruce break out into hearty laughter.
“By all means,” Bruce says, “go play!”
“Don't forget your hat and gloves, Jason!” Clark calls after them as the two boys sprint off to have their fun, Alfred disappearing, presumably to get back to Christmas Eve dinner, if the wonderful smells of turkey and gingerbread wafting from the kitchen are to be believed.
Then Bruce and Clark are alone in the living room, staring at the tree and leaning into one another. Neither can believe they've come so far in only a few short months; it seems like yesterday that the Manor was a silent, hulking place with no light, no laughter.
Pulling away from his lover and partner, Clark grabs up two cups of cocoa from the tray Alfred left, handing one to Bruce and sipping the warm, rich liquid. Almost as good as Ma's, he thinks as the pair moves to gaze out the enormous picture window and watch the boys playing in the snow. Already, Dick and Jason are beginning to roll large balls across the yard to make a snowman, their heavy winter coats swallowing them.
“I never thought we'd get those ornaments done in time,” Bruce confesses lightly.
“With me on the job?” Clark gasps in mock offense.
Bruce smiles that toothy smile that's always made his Kryptonian melt. “Heh. I stand corrected.”
“Darn right. You should know by now never to underestimate Superman.”
“Or Batman, for that matter,” Bruce finishes. “So, how do you think we're doing so far?” he wonders between sips of cocoa.
Clark grins, “I think we're doing pretty well, actually. Jason and Dick... both of them seem really happy.”
“I think so, too. Can't wait to see how much happier Dick is when we go to visit Haly's tomorrow.”
“They're in Gotham again?”
“Mm-hmm. For a few days. They're giving a Christmas show,” Bruce answers quietly, his gaze transfixed on the little acrobat. “Jason will love it, too,” he adds, giving Clark a knowing sideways glance as they both remember Clark's anguish over not being able to take his little boy before.
The taller man is taken aback by Bruce's surprise. “Thank you,” he breathes.
Bruce smirks, reaching over and interlacing his fingers with his lover's. “I bet he'll be ecstatic to meet his Grandma Kent the day after tomorrow, too. Same for Dick. And you know I'm terrified.”
Sighing happily and still somewhat overwhelmed by it all, Clark gives partner a quirky smile. “I can't wait for you and Dick to finally meet her. And you have no idea how long I've been waiting for Ma to meet Jason.”
“Fourteen months, twenty-six days, fifteen hours, and forty-one minutes,” Bruce rattles off easily, finishing with a sip of cocoa. “And counting.”
“Wha- You've been counting!?” Clark gapes. At Bruce's shrug, he narrows his eyes. “You know, you can be a bigger smart ass than me, sometimes.”
“Gotta keep you on your toes,” the Bat smirks again.
With a chuckle, Clark shakes his head, releasing Bruce's hand and slipping an arm around his waist, and the two men settle against each other, watching their boys play in the glistening wonderland, assembling their snowman.
“Thank you, Bruce,” Clark says after a long while.
“For what?”
“For this. For everything. You gave me my life back. My career. My son.”
Hearing the choked back sob in his lover's voice, Bruce sets his cocoa down on the window ledge, taking Clark's and depositing it as well. “Clark,” he starts, gripping his lover's shoulders through the faded red plaid flannel. “Your career was your doing. Otherwise, I only gave you what I could. And helping you get your son back was the greatest gift I could ever think to give you. I love you.”
“But, I-” Clark begins to protest, before Bruce shushes him, answering his needless humility and embarrassment, and brushing an errant lock of hair back from his eyes.
“And you've given me the greatest gift I've ever received, too. You've kept me grounded, kept me from losing it when I was so worried about taking Dick in. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
With his expression softening into a smile at that, Clark dips his head toward Bruce's, drawing his partner close and breathing in his scent of expensive cologne, Christmas tree, and cocoa. “I love you, too,” he whispers, and when Bruce's arms slip around Clark's neck, the two men meld together in a deep kiss that warms them both to the very center of their beings.
It's already a Christmas that neither of them will ever forget, the Christmas that the Wayne/Kent family, their family, became whole. And even with the actual holiday still many hours away, neither Clark nor Bruce can think of any way it could possibly get any better. It's already perfect.
* * * * *