Fic: 12 Years of Christmas 9/12: Because Santa Claus Comes Tonight
Title: 12 Years of Christmas, 9/12
Authors: lady_sarai and zoe_chan
Continuity: Follows Young Justice and Teen Titans and main continuity up to the OYL events of Flash 13, then deviates.
Pairing/Characters: Tim/Cissie.
Rating/Warnings: PGish
Disclaimer: We do not own anything or anyone. We promise.
Summary: Tim and Cissie prepare for Santa Claus. They didn't realize it would be so complicated.
Note: Tim and Cissie's daughter, Sadie, is a little over 3 years old. And very precocious. After they were married, Tim changed his codename to Kestrel. This part begins when they are on their way home from Christmas Eve at the Manor.
Each of the twelve parts of this fic take place on a different year--they *are* in order, but they are not twelve consecutive years. We skipped over a few. Huge thanks to xenokattz for beta-reading! ♥
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
9. Year 16: Because Santa Claus Comes Tonight
~*~
“Can we make cookies for Santa when we get home?”
“Um.” Cissie shot Tim a confused glance before turning to look at their daughter in the backseat. “Sadie, we have cookies. Remember? We baked them last weekend?”
She frowned. “We can’t give him those cookies. Those are old cookies, and they’re getting stale. He needs good cookies.”
Cissie blinked at her. “Sweetheart, we made a million cookies-all different kinds. And they are not stale yet.”
“Please, Mommy? He had a long night, and we’re always nice to Daddy when he has a long night, we should be nice to Santa, too.”
Cissie looked at their three year old in her red velvet party dress and black Mary Janes and huge, pleading blue eyes and sighed. “What kind of cookies?”
Tim reached one hand across the front seat to grab Cissie’s and give it a light squeeze while Sadie clapped in delight.
“Sugar cookies! And can we decorate them, too? Please?”
Cissie swallowed her sigh, squeezing Tim’s hand back. “I… think so,” she said, mentally taking inventory of their pantry. “As long as we have everything we need.”
“I hope we have everything we need,” Tim muttered, barely audible. “I do not want to go out again tonight to hunt down icing.”
Cissie turned around, making a face where Sadie couldn’t see it. “We have some left,” she murmured. “And if all else fails-powdered sugar and food coloring.”
Tim grimaced faintly. “Eww,” he murmured. “Do I have to eat that?”
Cissie shot him a warning glance and shook her head minutely. “The alternative is finding an open grocery store at eleven on Christmas Eve.”
He gave a slight nod. “You win. But still.”
Cissie reached over and pat his knee. “What do you think royal icing is, sweetheart?”
From the backseat, Sadie piped up, “Daddy, will you help?”
Tim stiffened for a moment as he pulled the car into a parking space. “Are you sure you don’t want this to be something you and Mommy do?” he asked finally, trying not to sound hopeful.
Cissie shot him an unimpressed look as she unbuckled and moved to get out of the car. Sadie kicked her feet impatiently from the backseat. “Daddy, please?”
Tim swallowed back a groan as he got out of the front seat and opened the door to the back. “Sure, sweetie. I’ll help,” he said, unbuckling the straps that held her into her car seat and lifting her out of the car. “Sounds like… fun.”
Sadie gave a joyful squeal and hugged his neck tightly. Cissie shook her head as she grabbed the presents from the trunk. “I wonder if we have any mix,” she muttered.
“Be still, my heart,” Tim murmured feelingly. “Can I carry any of those?”
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’m good. You’ve got the munchkin.”
Tim grinned and tossed Sadie over his shoulder, securing her there with an arm around her waist while she giggled happily. “I’ve got a free hand.”
She raised an eyebrow and handed him a bag. “If you insist.”
He took the bag and wiggled his fingers against Sadie’s side a little, making her squeal with laughter. “I think I can handle it.”
Cissie smiled, shaking her head as she pulled the last bag from the trunk and shut it, following Tim and Sadie toward the building. “My big, strong man.”
He tossed a grin over his shoulder as they made their way up the stairs. “You bet,” he said, tightening his grip around Sadie’s waist as she started kicking out her legs in protest.
“Daddy, down,” she said insistently.
“Not until we get inside, baby. Then into your PJ’s before we start with the cookies, okay?”
She let out her breath in a huff and pouted at Cissie over his shoulder. “Do I have to?”
Cissie raised an eyebrow at her while Tim unlocked the apartment door. “Daddy said so,” she replied. “Besides-you don’t want to get flour all over your Christmas dress, do you?”
She made a face. “No… But I have an apron! Then I can wear my dress and keep it clean. Daddy, down! ”
Cissie shook her head and set her bags down by the coat closet. “PJs-now, munchkin. You can wear your apron over your new nightgown,” she added, fishing through the bag of gifts.
Sadie gave a tiny squeak of joy as Tim set her on the ground. She grabbed the gift box from Cissie’s hands and tore off down the hallway and into her bedroom. Tim let his breath out slowly. “Five, four, three, two-“
“Daddy, I need help! I can’t get the buttons!”
He let out a tired laugh and leaned over to kiss Cissie. “I’ll be right back.”
Cissie shook her head, and put their coats away before following them down the hall toward the kitchen. She rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and opened the closest cupboard, eyeing the contents narrowly. She really hoped they still had a package or two of instant cookie mix-she did not want to have to bake sugar cookies from scratch at this hour.
After nearly emptying the contents of two cabinets onto the countertops, she pulled a package from behind the flour with a triumphant “aha!”
“What ‘aha’?” Tim asked, following Sadie into the kitchen.
Cissie turned, triumphantly holding up the sugar cookie mix. “Two eggs and a cup of water, and we’re in business!”
Tim let out a small sigh of relief, while Sadie clapped her hands together happily. “Where’s my apron, Mommy?” she asked.
“In the closet, silly.” Cissie scooped her up, carrying her on her hip to the broom closet next to the refrigerator. She opened the door and let Sadie take her child-sized apron from its hook. She set her down and knelt to tie the apron behind her, kissing her cheek before standing back up. “I’ll get the eggs-bring the footstool over to the counter, sweetie.”
Sadie dragged the footstool to the counter while Cissie grabbed the eggs. Before she could touch anything else, Tim picked her up around the waist and held her up to the kitchen sink so that she could kneel on the edge. He turned on the water and put some soap on her hands. “Wash first,” he said firmly. “That’s always how you start cooking.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know,” she said, rubbing her hands together under the water.
Cissie laughed quietly, getting out a mixing bowl and wooden spoon and measuring cup and setting everything on the counter before going to wash her hands as well. She gave Tim a tired smile as Sadie wiggled to the floor and hopped onto the footstool. “Mommy, can I stir?”
“Of course you can.”
“Wait!” Tim grabbed both of Sadie’s arms by the wrists as she reached for the box of cookie mix. “Let Mommy and me do the measuring, and you can stir after, all right, baby?”
Sadie pouted, twisting her head to look up at him. “I can measure!”
“I know you can, but it’s late, and Mommy and I don’t want to have to sweep cookie mix off the floor tonight, okay?”
She heaved a deep sigh and made a face. “I won’t spill,” she mumbled. “I’m a big girl.”
Cissie kissed the top of her head and proceeded to pour the cookie mix into the bowl and crack the eggs. “You are a big girl, but this is a job for grown-ups. Remember, we talked about that last time you helped me bake?”
“But I helped clean up,” she replied with a winning smile. She picked up the wooden spoon and waved it in the air a few times. “Is it time to stir yet?”
Cissie shook her head, grabbing Sadie’s wrist before she could hit anyone-or anything-with the spoon. “Wait until Daddy puts the water in, munchkin.” She leaned over to kiss the top of Sadie’s head, and let go of her wrist to hunt down the cookie sheets.
Sadie turned to Tim, tugging on his sleeve. “Can I stir now, Daddy?”
“Did I put the water in yet?” he asked, amused, as he reached across her for the measuring cup Cissie had left on the counter next to the bowl. He poured the appropriate amount from the cold tap, heeding the advice Alfred had given him when he was a teenager-that cold water should always be used when cooking, to reduce mineral contaminants from the pipes. He reached back across Sadie and poured the water into the bowl. “Now you can stir-slowly,” he said, putting his hand over hers on the spoon. “We don’t want cookie mix on the walls, right?”
Sadie giggled, standing on her tip-toes to see into the bowl. “But then we’d have cookie walls!” She used her free hand to pry at Tim’s fingers. “Daddy, let go, I can do it by myself! I won’t spill.”
“Cookie walls would be messy, and we couldn’t put them in the oven,” Tim said, stepping back and watching while Sadie stirred. “And we wouldn’t want Santa to come in and see a messy kitchen.”
Sadie whipped her head around, eyes wide. “Would Santa be mad?”
Tim bit down on a laugh. “No-but I think he’d be surprised. He knows what a good girl you are, and good girls don’t make big messes in the kitchen for their parents to clean up.”
She shook her head frantically. “I help clean up!” she cried.
“Yes, you do,” Cissie said, returning with the cookie sheets piled high with a rolling pin and flour and cookie cutters. “You’re a very big help. Let me see what a good job you’ve done mixing.” She took the bowl from Sadie and gave the batter a quick stir. “Perfect,” she declared.
Tim took the bowl from her and pulled out a rolling mat. He turned the cookie dough out onto the mat and took the rolling pin from the pile of cooking implements Cissie had set on the counter. He attacked the dough with the rolling pin, sprinkling both liberally with flour to keep them from sticking together while he worked to flatten the dough.
Cissie took the mixing bowl from him and began to fill the sink so that she could wash the dishes as they were no longer being used. Tim smiled gratefully at her-the sooner this was all done, the sooner they could all go to bed. Sadie took a pair of cookie cutters and sat down on her stool, playing idly with them while she waited for the dough to be ready.
“Daddy,” she asked suddenly. “What do deer eat?”
Tim frowned a little while he continued to work at flattening the dough. “Um, leaves, grass, moss and… tree bark, I think, in the winter. Why?”
Sadie asked thoughtfully, “Do we have any of that stuff?”
Tim froze before turning slowly to look at his daughter. He thought he understood the question now. “No…”
Cissie made a small, distressed noise. Sadie made the cookie cutter reindeer jump over the snowman, frowning. “But what will we leave for the reindeer?”
Tim blinked a couple of times, glancing quickly at Cissie before answering. Her eyes were closed and her face was a study in dismay. Damn, Tim thought, turning his attention back to Sadie. “We can leave them carrots and celery. Celery is like a grass, I bet they’d like that.”
Sadie looked at him, an extremely skeptical expression on her face. “Daddy, celery is not grass,” she informed him solemnly.
“They’re related,” he said defensively.
“Daddy,” Sadie cried, distressed. “We can’t leave them celery, it’s a vegetable! It’s not what they eat!”
Cissie took a deep breath and looked down at her. “Reindeer eat vegetables too sometimes, sweetheart. Besides, if they don’t eat carrots and celery very often, I bet they’d really like them from you. It would be a special treat.”
Sadie scowled. “It would not. Celery and carrots don’t grow in the North Pole-I read the package, and they came from the USA, which is not near the North Pole-you showed me on the globe. Just because they don’t usually eat it, doesn’t mean it’s a treat. I don’t usually eat reindeer food, and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be a treat for me.”
Cissie exchanged a look with Tim, a sinking feeling coming over her. “Santa’s reindeer aren’t normal reindeer, Sadie. I bet they like carrots and celery a lot,” she tried.
“I bet they like reindeer food better,” she said sadly, looking down at the cookie cutter in front of her. “Can we get reindeer food, Mommy?”
Cissie sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “I don’t know, Sadie, it’s very late and most stores are closed for Christmas now.”
“Can we try? Please?”
Tim felt his shoulders slump in defeat. As Kestrel, he faced thugs and muggers and crime bosses on a near nightly basis-not to mention the Grade A crazies that Gotham seemed to breed-and yet he was undone by a sad look on his three-year-old’s face. He let out a small sigh. “All right Sadie-I’ll look. But if I can’t find anything, will celery be all right?”
Sadie scrambled to her feet, leaping off the stool and grabbing Tim’s legs in a tight hug. “Thank you, Daddy!”
“You’re welcome, sweet pea,” he said, tousling her hair. He glanced over at Cissie. “You think you can handle cookies while I look for reindeer food?”
Cissie gave him a sad smile, nodding. She took the rolling pin from him and leaned in to kiss him. “Good luck,” she murmured.
“Maybe Alfred will have some ideas,” he said under his breath.
“I hope so,” she whispered back. “Try not to be out too late-I’ll work on the celery idea. You’ve got about an hour before the cookies can be decorated, I think.”
“Thanks-I’ll see you then.” He kissed her again, then bent down to plant a kiss on Sadie’s forehead. “See you in a little while, baby.”
Sadie let go of his legs. “Bye, Daddy.” She climbed onto her footstool again, and then turned around. “Daddy! Will you be back before Santa comes?”
He blinked at her a couple of times before answering. “I-yes, Sadie. I’m sure I’ll be home a long time before Santa gets here.”
~*~
Cissie sank into bed three hours later, breathing a relieved sigh. She dropped her head to her pillow and made a small, happy noise. She looked over at Tim and laughed quietly. Rolling on her side, she reached out and pulled the pillow off his face. “It might be more comfortable if you put your head on the pillow, rather than the pillow on your head, babe.”
Tim rolled his head to look at her. “Really? I’m so tired that I wasn’t sure.” He lifted his head and put the pillow underneath it. “God, and she’ll be up again in three hours, won’t she?”
Cissie moaned and shifted closer to him, finding his hand and squeezing it. “We did tell her not to leave her room before six. So-we have maybe four hours.”
He shot her a sidelong look. “Does she know how to read her clock?”
She blinked at him. “You showed her. Didn’t you?”
“We’ve been working on it,” he muttered making a face. “Let’s hope she remembers. And please tell me we remembered to get rid of the reindeer food, because I don’t want to get up again.”
“I did,” she assured him, laying her head against his shoulder. “When you were eating the cookies for me-thanks, by the way. And where on earth did you find moss, Tim?”
He hesitated a moment before answering. “I refuse to answer that on the grounds that I may be incriminated. It was Alfred’s idea.”
Cissie lifted her head to raise an eyebrow at him. “Is that supposed to be comforting, that it was Alfred’s idea? Because it’s not.”
“No, it’s meant to deflect the blame.”
“What is the blame I’m deflecting?”
He regarded her for a long moment. “I found it at the zoo,” he said finally.
Cissie didn’t say anything, taking a moment to make sure she had heard him correctly. “The… zoo,” she repeated. “You took moss from the zoo.”
He gave her an uncertain look. “Yes. From the reindeer habitat.”
She looked at him for another long moment, then dropped her head to his shoulder and curled close against him. “If I weren’t so tired, I’m sure I’d have something to say about that.”
“It was Alfred’s idea,” he said again. “And where else would I get food for nine reindeer, because you know she wouldn’t have been happy with just a little bit?”
“You have a point. Though I hope you weren’t planning on returning that moss,” she muttered, making a face.
Tim gave a short laugh. “Not anymore. I forgot to ask-how was baking with the munchkin? And how are you feeling?”
She smiled sleepily. “I’m feeling tired. Baking was fine, although I might not eat sugar cookies for the next six months, so again-thank you for eating them. Were they all right? I tried to limit the frosting, but you know Sadie when she has her mind made up.”
He grimaced. “I know. The cookies were good. The frosting was… sweet. And there was a lot of it, but I think I’ll live.” He leaned his head against hers. “I hope Sadie sleeps in,” he yawned.
She snorted. “You and me both, hon.” Cissie let her eyes close, and was beginning to drift off when a thought occurred to her. “You know what?”
“What?” Tim asked, without opening his eyes.
“This is our last Christmas, just the three of us. We’ll be four next year.”
“Mm,” Tim agreed. “But I think the new little one will be too young to ask about reindeer food.”
Cissie gave a tired laugh. “For a few years, anyway.”
Tim moaned pitifully. “Does this mean I’m going to have to put out moss for reindeer until both of them give up on Santa?”
Cissie made a face, bringing a hand up to pat his chest tiredly. “There’s always a chance Sadie might forget next year.”
“Promises, promises,” he murmured feelingly. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. “Let’s get some sleep before the dimpled darling wakes up. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
“Hmm.” She settled more comfortably against him and kissed his shoulder. “You have the best ideas,” she mumbled. “Night, Tim. Love you.”
“Love you too,” he said with a sigh. “’Night.”
~*~
Tomorrow, Part 10: Tiny Tots With Their Eyes All Aglow.
Authors: lady_sarai and zoe_chan
Continuity: Follows Young Justice and Teen Titans and main continuity up to the OYL events of Flash 13, then deviates.
Pairing/Characters: Tim/Cissie.
Rating/Warnings: PGish
Disclaimer: We do not own anything or anyone. We promise.
Summary: Tim and Cissie prepare for Santa Claus. They didn't realize it would be so complicated.
Note: Tim and Cissie's daughter, Sadie, is a little over 3 years old. And very precocious. After they were married, Tim changed his codename to Kestrel. This part begins when they are on their way home from Christmas Eve at the Manor.
Each of the twelve parts of this fic take place on a different year--they *are* in order, but they are not twelve consecutive years. We skipped over a few. Huge thanks to xenokattz for beta-reading! ♥
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
9. Year 16: Because Santa Claus Comes Tonight
~*~
“Can we make cookies for Santa when we get home?”
“Um.” Cissie shot Tim a confused glance before turning to look at their daughter in the backseat. “Sadie, we have cookies. Remember? We baked them last weekend?”
She frowned. “We can’t give him those cookies. Those are old cookies, and they’re getting stale. He needs good cookies.”
Cissie blinked at her. “Sweetheart, we made a million cookies-all different kinds. And they are not stale yet.”
“Please, Mommy? He had a long night, and we’re always nice to Daddy when he has a long night, we should be nice to Santa, too.”
Cissie looked at their three year old in her red velvet party dress and black Mary Janes and huge, pleading blue eyes and sighed. “What kind of cookies?”
Tim reached one hand across the front seat to grab Cissie’s and give it a light squeeze while Sadie clapped in delight.
“Sugar cookies! And can we decorate them, too? Please?”
Cissie swallowed her sigh, squeezing Tim’s hand back. “I… think so,” she said, mentally taking inventory of their pantry. “As long as we have everything we need.”
“I hope we have everything we need,” Tim muttered, barely audible. “I do not want to go out again tonight to hunt down icing.”
Cissie turned around, making a face where Sadie couldn’t see it. “We have some left,” she murmured. “And if all else fails-powdered sugar and food coloring.”
Tim grimaced faintly. “Eww,” he murmured. “Do I have to eat that?”
Cissie shot him a warning glance and shook her head minutely. “The alternative is finding an open grocery store at eleven on Christmas Eve.”
He gave a slight nod. “You win. But still.”
Cissie reached over and pat his knee. “What do you think royal icing is, sweetheart?”
From the backseat, Sadie piped up, “Daddy, will you help?”
Tim stiffened for a moment as he pulled the car into a parking space. “Are you sure you don’t want this to be something you and Mommy do?” he asked finally, trying not to sound hopeful.
Cissie shot him an unimpressed look as she unbuckled and moved to get out of the car. Sadie kicked her feet impatiently from the backseat. “Daddy, please?”
Tim swallowed back a groan as he got out of the front seat and opened the door to the back. “Sure, sweetie. I’ll help,” he said, unbuckling the straps that held her into her car seat and lifting her out of the car. “Sounds like… fun.”
Sadie gave a joyful squeal and hugged his neck tightly. Cissie shook her head as she grabbed the presents from the trunk. “I wonder if we have any mix,” she muttered.
“Be still, my heart,” Tim murmured feelingly. “Can I carry any of those?”
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’m good. You’ve got the munchkin.”
Tim grinned and tossed Sadie over his shoulder, securing her there with an arm around her waist while she giggled happily. “I’ve got a free hand.”
She raised an eyebrow and handed him a bag. “If you insist.”
He took the bag and wiggled his fingers against Sadie’s side a little, making her squeal with laughter. “I think I can handle it.”
Cissie smiled, shaking her head as she pulled the last bag from the trunk and shut it, following Tim and Sadie toward the building. “My big, strong man.”
He tossed a grin over his shoulder as they made their way up the stairs. “You bet,” he said, tightening his grip around Sadie’s waist as she started kicking out her legs in protest.
“Daddy, down,” she said insistently.
“Not until we get inside, baby. Then into your PJ’s before we start with the cookies, okay?”
She let out her breath in a huff and pouted at Cissie over his shoulder. “Do I have to?”
Cissie raised an eyebrow at her while Tim unlocked the apartment door. “Daddy said so,” she replied. “Besides-you don’t want to get flour all over your Christmas dress, do you?”
She made a face. “No… But I have an apron! Then I can wear my dress and keep it clean. Daddy, down! ”
Cissie shook her head and set her bags down by the coat closet. “PJs-now, munchkin. You can wear your apron over your new nightgown,” she added, fishing through the bag of gifts.
Sadie gave a tiny squeak of joy as Tim set her on the ground. She grabbed the gift box from Cissie’s hands and tore off down the hallway and into her bedroom. Tim let his breath out slowly. “Five, four, three, two-“
“Daddy, I need help! I can’t get the buttons!”
He let out a tired laugh and leaned over to kiss Cissie. “I’ll be right back.”
Cissie shook her head, and put their coats away before following them down the hall toward the kitchen. She rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and opened the closest cupboard, eyeing the contents narrowly. She really hoped they still had a package or two of instant cookie mix-she did not want to have to bake sugar cookies from scratch at this hour.
After nearly emptying the contents of two cabinets onto the countertops, she pulled a package from behind the flour with a triumphant “aha!”
“What ‘aha’?” Tim asked, following Sadie into the kitchen.
Cissie turned, triumphantly holding up the sugar cookie mix. “Two eggs and a cup of water, and we’re in business!”
Tim let out a small sigh of relief, while Sadie clapped her hands together happily. “Where’s my apron, Mommy?” she asked.
“In the closet, silly.” Cissie scooped her up, carrying her on her hip to the broom closet next to the refrigerator. She opened the door and let Sadie take her child-sized apron from its hook. She set her down and knelt to tie the apron behind her, kissing her cheek before standing back up. “I’ll get the eggs-bring the footstool over to the counter, sweetie.”
Sadie dragged the footstool to the counter while Cissie grabbed the eggs. Before she could touch anything else, Tim picked her up around the waist and held her up to the kitchen sink so that she could kneel on the edge. He turned on the water and put some soap on her hands. “Wash first,” he said firmly. “That’s always how you start cooking.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know,” she said, rubbing her hands together under the water.
Cissie laughed quietly, getting out a mixing bowl and wooden spoon and measuring cup and setting everything on the counter before going to wash her hands as well. She gave Tim a tired smile as Sadie wiggled to the floor and hopped onto the footstool. “Mommy, can I stir?”
“Of course you can.”
“Wait!” Tim grabbed both of Sadie’s arms by the wrists as she reached for the box of cookie mix. “Let Mommy and me do the measuring, and you can stir after, all right, baby?”
Sadie pouted, twisting her head to look up at him. “I can measure!”
“I know you can, but it’s late, and Mommy and I don’t want to have to sweep cookie mix off the floor tonight, okay?”
She heaved a deep sigh and made a face. “I won’t spill,” she mumbled. “I’m a big girl.”
Cissie kissed the top of her head and proceeded to pour the cookie mix into the bowl and crack the eggs. “You are a big girl, but this is a job for grown-ups. Remember, we talked about that last time you helped me bake?”
“But I helped clean up,” she replied with a winning smile. She picked up the wooden spoon and waved it in the air a few times. “Is it time to stir yet?”
Cissie shook her head, grabbing Sadie’s wrist before she could hit anyone-or anything-with the spoon. “Wait until Daddy puts the water in, munchkin.” She leaned over to kiss the top of Sadie’s head, and let go of her wrist to hunt down the cookie sheets.
Sadie turned to Tim, tugging on his sleeve. “Can I stir now, Daddy?”
“Did I put the water in yet?” he asked, amused, as he reached across her for the measuring cup Cissie had left on the counter next to the bowl. He poured the appropriate amount from the cold tap, heeding the advice Alfred had given him when he was a teenager-that cold water should always be used when cooking, to reduce mineral contaminants from the pipes. He reached back across Sadie and poured the water into the bowl. “Now you can stir-slowly,” he said, putting his hand over hers on the spoon. “We don’t want cookie mix on the walls, right?”
Sadie giggled, standing on her tip-toes to see into the bowl. “But then we’d have cookie walls!” She used her free hand to pry at Tim’s fingers. “Daddy, let go, I can do it by myself! I won’t spill.”
“Cookie walls would be messy, and we couldn’t put them in the oven,” Tim said, stepping back and watching while Sadie stirred. “And we wouldn’t want Santa to come in and see a messy kitchen.”
Sadie whipped her head around, eyes wide. “Would Santa be mad?”
Tim bit down on a laugh. “No-but I think he’d be surprised. He knows what a good girl you are, and good girls don’t make big messes in the kitchen for their parents to clean up.”
She shook her head frantically. “I help clean up!” she cried.
“Yes, you do,” Cissie said, returning with the cookie sheets piled high with a rolling pin and flour and cookie cutters. “You’re a very big help. Let me see what a good job you’ve done mixing.” She took the bowl from Sadie and gave the batter a quick stir. “Perfect,” she declared.
Tim took the bowl from her and pulled out a rolling mat. He turned the cookie dough out onto the mat and took the rolling pin from the pile of cooking implements Cissie had set on the counter. He attacked the dough with the rolling pin, sprinkling both liberally with flour to keep them from sticking together while he worked to flatten the dough.
Cissie took the mixing bowl from him and began to fill the sink so that she could wash the dishes as they were no longer being used. Tim smiled gratefully at her-the sooner this was all done, the sooner they could all go to bed. Sadie took a pair of cookie cutters and sat down on her stool, playing idly with them while she waited for the dough to be ready.
“Daddy,” she asked suddenly. “What do deer eat?”
Tim frowned a little while he continued to work at flattening the dough. “Um, leaves, grass, moss and… tree bark, I think, in the winter. Why?”
Sadie asked thoughtfully, “Do we have any of that stuff?”
Tim froze before turning slowly to look at his daughter. He thought he understood the question now. “No…”
Cissie made a small, distressed noise. Sadie made the cookie cutter reindeer jump over the snowman, frowning. “But what will we leave for the reindeer?”
Tim blinked a couple of times, glancing quickly at Cissie before answering. Her eyes were closed and her face was a study in dismay. Damn, Tim thought, turning his attention back to Sadie. “We can leave them carrots and celery. Celery is like a grass, I bet they’d like that.”
Sadie looked at him, an extremely skeptical expression on her face. “Daddy, celery is not grass,” she informed him solemnly.
“They’re related,” he said defensively.
“Daddy,” Sadie cried, distressed. “We can’t leave them celery, it’s a vegetable! It’s not what they eat!”
Cissie took a deep breath and looked down at her. “Reindeer eat vegetables too sometimes, sweetheart. Besides, if they don’t eat carrots and celery very often, I bet they’d really like them from you. It would be a special treat.”
Sadie scowled. “It would not. Celery and carrots don’t grow in the North Pole-I read the package, and they came from the USA, which is not near the North Pole-you showed me on the globe. Just because they don’t usually eat it, doesn’t mean it’s a treat. I don’t usually eat reindeer food, and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be a treat for me.”
Cissie exchanged a look with Tim, a sinking feeling coming over her. “Santa’s reindeer aren’t normal reindeer, Sadie. I bet they like carrots and celery a lot,” she tried.
“I bet they like reindeer food better,” she said sadly, looking down at the cookie cutter in front of her. “Can we get reindeer food, Mommy?”
Cissie sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “I don’t know, Sadie, it’s very late and most stores are closed for Christmas now.”
“Can we try? Please?”
Tim felt his shoulders slump in defeat. As Kestrel, he faced thugs and muggers and crime bosses on a near nightly basis-not to mention the Grade A crazies that Gotham seemed to breed-and yet he was undone by a sad look on his three-year-old’s face. He let out a small sigh. “All right Sadie-I’ll look. But if I can’t find anything, will celery be all right?”
Sadie scrambled to her feet, leaping off the stool and grabbing Tim’s legs in a tight hug. “Thank you, Daddy!”
“You’re welcome, sweet pea,” he said, tousling her hair. He glanced over at Cissie. “You think you can handle cookies while I look for reindeer food?”
Cissie gave him a sad smile, nodding. She took the rolling pin from him and leaned in to kiss him. “Good luck,” she murmured.
“Maybe Alfred will have some ideas,” he said under his breath.
“I hope so,” she whispered back. “Try not to be out too late-I’ll work on the celery idea. You’ve got about an hour before the cookies can be decorated, I think.”
“Thanks-I’ll see you then.” He kissed her again, then bent down to plant a kiss on Sadie’s forehead. “See you in a little while, baby.”
Sadie let go of his legs. “Bye, Daddy.” She climbed onto her footstool again, and then turned around. “Daddy! Will you be back before Santa comes?”
He blinked at her a couple of times before answering. “I-yes, Sadie. I’m sure I’ll be home a long time before Santa gets here.”
~*~
Cissie sank into bed three hours later, breathing a relieved sigh. She dropped her head to her pillow and made a small, happy noise. She looked over at Tim and laughed quietly. Rolling on her side, she reached out and pulled the pillow off his face. “It might be more comfortable if you put your head on the pillow, rather than the pillow on your head, babe.”
Tim rolled his head to look at her. “Really? I’m so tired that I wasn’t sure.” He lifted his head and put the pillow underneath it. “God, and she’ll be up again in three hours, won’t she?”
Cissie moaned and shifted closer to him, finding his hand and squeezing it. “We did tell her not to leave her room before six. So-we have maybe four hours.”
He shot her a sidelong look. “Does she know how to read her clock?”
She blinked at him. “You showed her. Didn’t you?”
“We’ve been working on it,” he muttered making a face. “Let’s hope she remembers. And please tell me we remembered to get rid of the reindeer food, because I don’t want to get up again.”
“I did,” she assured him, laying her head against his shoulder. “When you were eating the cookies for me-thanks, by the way. And where on earth did you find moss, Tim?”
He hesitated a moment before answering. “I refuse to answer that on the grounds that I may be incriminated. It was Alfred’s idea.”
Cissie lifted her head to raise an eyebrow at him. “Is that supposed to be comforting, that it was Alfred’s idea? Because it’s not.”
“No, it’s meant to deflect the blame.”
“What is the blame I’m deflecting?”
He regarded her for a long moment. “I found it at the zoo,” he said finally.
Cissie didn’t say anything, taking a moment to make sure she had heard him correctly. “The… zoo,” she repeated. “You took moss from the zoo.”
He gave her an uncertain look. “Yes. From the reindeer habitat.”
She looked at him for another long moment, then dropped her head to his shoulder and curled close against him. “If I weren’t so tired, I’m sure I’d have something to say about that.”
“It was Alfred’s idea,” he said again. “And where else would I get food for nine reindeer, because you know she wouldn’t have been happy with just a little bit?”
“You have a point. Though I hope you weren’t planning on returning that moss,” she muttered, making a face.
Tim gave a short laugh. “Not anymore. I forgot to ask-how was baking with the munchkin? And how are you feeling?”
She smiled sleepily. “I’m feeling tired. Baking was fine, although I might not eat sugar cookies for the next six months, so again-thank you for eating them. Were they all right? I tried to limit the frosting, but you know Sadie when she has her mind made up.”
He grimaced. “I know. The cookies were good. The frosting was… sweet. And there was a lot of it, but I think I’ll live.” He leaned his head against hers. “I hope Sadie sleeps in,” he yawned.
She snorted. “You and me both, hon.” Cissie let her eyes close, and was beginning to drift off when a thought occurred to her. “You know what?”
“What?” Tim asked, without opening his eyes.
“This is our last Christmas, just the three of us. We’ll be four next year.”
“Mm,” Tim agreed. “But I think the new little one will be too young to ask about reindeer food.”
Cissie gave a tired laugh. “For a few years, anyway.”
Tim moaned pitifully. “Does this mean I’m going to have to put out moss for reindeer until both of them give up on Santa?”
Cissie made a face, bringing a hand up to pat his chest tiredly. “There’s always a chance Sadie might forget next year.”
“Promises, promises,” he murmured feelingly. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. “Let’s get some sleep before the dimpled darling wakes up. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
“Hmm.” She settled more comfortably against him and kissed his shoulder. “You have the best ideas,” she mumbled. “Night, Tim. Love you.”
“Love you too,” he said with a sigh. “’Night.”
~*~
Tomorrow, Part 10: Tiny Tots With Their Eyes All Aglow.