Chapter Text
December 1st
It was kind of silly if not a little sad, both of them being as secular as they came, but they were keeping the tradition alive, at least a little. They did this at Kate’s every year because — her words, not his — that way he actually got to visit like a cousin should and — Alfred’s words, not his — going somewhere that was neither the Mansion nor a boardroom nor a Justice League meeting would do him a world of good. So, every year, they lit their family’s Hanukkah menorah at Kate’s and shared cheap presents — if no world-ending event had prevented them from doing their last-minute shopping, of course.
Kate took the shamash, an intricately decorated blue candle, and used it to light the other menorah candles slowly, with a measure of reverence. She reached the fourth candle, put the shamash back in its place, and walked to where Bruce was sitting in one of the leather armchairs of Jack’s study. Well, Kate’s study, now that Jack was behind bars.
Bruce smiled and offered her the box of Advent chocolates — she chose a delicious pepper and cinnamon fine chocolate croquant — and his gift.
She plopped her own gift to him on his lap and ate her croquant in one bite.
“Hmm nice.” She turned the Wonder Woman statuette this way and that. This year Bruce had settled on Justice League merch. Kate loved the JL women.
Bruce smiled and unpacked his own gift, delicately unwrapping the paper. He chuckled at the sight of a weird red bird bobblehead. Kate had written in sharpie on a little bristol card.
“So.”
“So?” Bruce put the bobble-head on a side table and sat back into the plush armchair.
“Christmas, with both families, huh?” she prompted, still completely baffled that Bruce, of all people, would subject himself to a house full of people for the holidays.
Love really did make people do crazy things.
“You know, you could come with your new girlfriend,” Bruce commented. “Whatshername.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, with your fifty thousand kids and Clark’s metahuman three-ring circus? Hard pass.”
“Come on, Kate. This’ll just be family. Clark’s and mine,” he said, not quite pleadingly, but still.
It sounded just as ludicrous as it had twenty minutes ago when he’d first floated the idea of her coming over for Christmas.
“So, about twenty people more than I’m ready to show my new squeeze to. I don't want her to be a casualty in a food fight and I’d like to fuck her again sometime this century.”
Bruce shrugged and picked up his hot chocolate. “You could still come on the 25th, when we’ll exchange presents.”
Kate shuddered. That sounded even worse than dinner. Bruce’s kids were chaotic, but Clark’s could get downright feral too.
“If plus-ones are allowed, that could be about forty people. I’m thinking of about five things I’d rather do, among them fighting Scarecrow, taking a trip to Apokolips, and having a frontal lobotomy, Bruce.”
“Alright, then.” He swirled his beverage slowly in his mug. He didn’t sound very disappointed, surely because one fewer person at a dinner of fifty thousand must be wonderful for an introvert like him. Galas notwithstanding, and in spite of what his armada of sidekicks and children might indicate, Bruce outside of his personas was not a social butterfly.
She squinted, sipping her own hot chocolate — no alcohol on patrol night. “You seem unusually relaxed for a guy who’s twenty days away from a Napoleonic-sized invasion of his own home.”
“I’ve been taking my meds.” A beat. “So? Still a no? The kids love you, you know.”
“Full offence Bruce, but I’d rather chew my own leg off than enter the hellhole that your mansion is going to turn into when your family starts opening presents.” She shuddered. “Your family and your boyfriend’s family, no less.”
“Oh, come on, Kara and Kon aren’t that bad.” He hesitated. “I mean…” He stopped himself before he ended up listing all the ways Kara and Kon could be annoying when present in the same room together. “Damian is doing great.”
“Mmmmyeah, my idea of a good dinner is wine and a nice girl, not whining and hormonal teenagers. I give it a fifty-percent chance that they don’t all blow up the house by accident.”
“That would make for quite a shitty one-year anniversary.”
Kate snorted, remembering the absurdly long time that Clark and Bruce had danced around each other and the mad amounts of money that had changed hands in the superhero community when they got very publicly together the previous year after a high-octane JL mission that crashed everyone’s holiday plans. “Can’t believe you tapped that for fucking Christmas.” She raised her mug to Bruce. “You have my very homosexual congratulations.”
The smile on Bruce’s face was unusually soft, and a bit pensive. “Can’t believe it, either.” He drank the last of his chocolate, relishing the taste and warmth, not at all looking forward to the cold and slush he’d be met with on patrol. “He asked for a Christmas with both of our families… It’s a lot but…” Bruce shrugged.
“Ugh. Stop being disgustingly in love.”
Bruce looked affronted.
“Where’s Clark, by the way?”
“Space.” Bruce thought about the League meeting and the assignment, the way Clark had laughed before going to the zeta tubes with Hal. How he’d said Batman, don’t forget to invite everybody. Ugh. “Phantom Zone duplicate radiation readings.”
“Sounds bad.”
“It should be routine.” It absolutely wasn’t. Bruce frowned, looked at Kate’s attentive eyes and thought he maybe could admit it here. “Kate.”
She raised her eyebrows, sipping her chocolate loudly.
“Bruce.”
He sighed loudly.
“I hope the Phantom Zone opens up so I have an excuse not to have sixteen people plus whoever my kids manage to drag or threaten into coming to the Manor.”
“Hm hm. Maybe ask Superman to chuck them all in there on his way back.”