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“That’s it?” Cass confirms, seeing only ripped-up wrapping paper and empty bags by now. She realizes only as she asks the question that she’s grinning uncontrollably.
Steph grins back. She is so happy so often nowadays— and true-happy, not pretending. Cass loves it. The excited wideness of her eyes, the lean her body unconsciously does when she wants closer, how her dimples appear when she real-smiles— it’s all… Steph. Happy Steph, which isn’t a rarity anymore. Cass loves her.
“Not yet,” Steph says. Her mouth-shapes are nervous and her hands are jittery, but joy still controls most of her. “One more gift.” She stands and sheepishly states, “We need to go outside and walk a bit for it.”
Cass gets up. “Okay. Don’t care. Hold my hand?”
“Always.”
They pick each other’s outfits, as usual. Cass wears almost all new gifts: a hand-knit candy cane scarf from Babs, expensive snow-proof boots from Batman, and hers and Steph’s matching coats. She kisses Steph under the mistletoe as they exit and lets her lead the way.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
The path isn’t familiar and Cass doesn’t care enough to deduce the possibilities, so she busies herself with feeling Steph’s gloved hand in her own and watching the people passing by. Today— Christmas day— means a lot of families, a lot of couples, and a lot of happiness. It’s nice to see even when their stress is raised too. There are many little girls in little dresses and little pigtails. One Cass sees is fighting with her twin over a toy, but she’s far more playful and happy than… murderous— and another is on her dad’s shoulders, babbling and giggling and happy-screaming and not covered in blood. There are so many that Cass stops processing them as dangerous after a certain point.
It hurts to see but not as much as it used to. Cass died and then Cass died again; Batgirl saves lives and then Batgirl saves more— and it’s not enough for most things, but it is enough for Cass to be able to look away, so she hides her face from the street by looking more at Steph, who’s happy and safe and alive.
“Okay, close your eyes,” Steph says with anticipation threaded through her voice. A few more steps and Cass is led into a building, a receptionist greets them, a second door clicks shut, and she’s told to open them.
It’s a dance studio. The floor is padded and the walls are mirrored. Cass feels herself grin. “A dance?”
“A dance,” Steph agrees nervously. “I figured it’d mean more than a card. C’mon, sit and I’ll start.”
Cass sits; Steph starts. The song is Cass’ favorite, playing from Steph’s loud but tinny phone speaker, and she already likes how it sounds better than when Batman plays it in his million-dollar surround-sound system. Steph’s dance isn’t the typical ballet moves she was expecting— not hip-hop or contemporary or waltzing or whatever others she doesn’t know the names to, but…
It’s them. Cass takes a second to recognize the fighting moves she’s taught Steph since they don’t seem violent at all anymore— the blocks and punches are more of a push and pull, rising Gotham tides of frustration and pain but overwhelming love and protection, as well. It’s not a comprehensive story as much as it is pure emotion; a love poem in movements. Cass didn’t think her language could ever be so non-violent— Cass didn’t think she’d ever see it spoken with purpose again, not outside of her dead mother’s perfection and maybe Batman’s clumsy attempts. Steph’s is clumsy too, of course, but this is self taught— a labor of love. It means so, so much.
Her movements become slower and closer to the present as the song gets to its end. She ends sitting in front of a stunned and love-struck Cass.
Before she has the chance to speak with words again, Cass surges forward and kisses her hard. They laugh, both smiling too much for the kiss to be very good, and try their best anyway. Only after that valiant effort, hands clasping the other’s, Cass speaks again.
“I loved it. Thank you.”
Steph’s smile is wide and her hair is wild. She presses another, more chaste and successful kiss, to Cass’ cheek, then pulls back to look deep into her eyes. Her brown irises hold all the love in the universe.
“Merry Christmas.”