A Very Tim and Cassie Christmas by Anonymous *** December 1. "DECK THE HALLS WITH BOWS OF HOLLLLLL-LY! FA LA LA LA LAAAAA, LA LA LA LAAAAA!" Tim Drake ripped his head out of his pillow, grabbing for the bo he kept propped beside his bed. A few pants later, he realized that he wasn't being attacked. Cautiously, he stuck his head out the doorway, just in time to see his singing roommate skipping towards the bathroom. "Merry Christmas!" she greeted cheerily. "What did you eat for breakfast?" Tim growled. Cassandra Cain grinned merrily. "Truffle elf!" Tim raised an eyebrow. "Truffle elf?" "Truffle elf!" Tim scratched his head. "Can I have one?" "Nope!" Tim went back to bed for the ten minutes before he had to get ready for work. *** December 2 "Want this one!" "No. No obscene ones." "Then... want this one!" "No Soder-drinking polar bears." "Then... want this one!" Tim glanced at the box. "Cassie, are you SURE you want to send Bruce a card with Superman on it? I, personally, would like to live this year." Cassandra crossed her arms and stuck out her lower lip. "Why not we have card like Donna?" Tim shuddered. "Cass. PLEASE." "Noo... Not six-page letter about stupid cats. Just the card part." Tim and Cassandra, not to mention half of the free world, had received, promptly on December 1st, a photographic card of Donna Troy and Kyle Raynor, looking like they'd just escaped from an episode of "the Waltons," along with an extensive narrative regarding Donna's rather dull exploits of the year. "Cass, why do you want to send out pictures of us? Only married people do that. Only sugary married people do that." "Donna and Kyle not married." "Give 'em a year," Tim grumbled. "Besides... Greetings from Tim and Cassie... It's all so... BLAH!" He stuck out his tongue for emphasis. Cassandra shrugged. "Thought it be nice." Tim squirmed inwardly. Dana would certainly think it was adorable. He wasn't sure how his father would feel about it. Barbara would be confused. Dick would tease him a lot. Bruce would be *really* confused... He looked over at Cassandra, who was angrily fishing through the boxes of generic Christmas cards. "Look, Cass, I'll make you a deal, okay?" She raised one eyebrow. "I'll let you stick a picture of us on the Christmas cards... if you give me one of those truffle elves." "Nope." She snatched a box off the shelf. "Look, Tim! Card with gator on! Want this one!" Tim snorted. Curses. Foiled again. *** December 3 "We're really on top of it this year," Tim announced cheerfully. "December 4th, and we're already shopping! So what do you think Dinah would like?" "Truffle elf." Tim scratched his head. "Speaking of truffle elves..." "No." "Dammit." *** December 4 "Christmas, Christmas, time is near... Time for toys and time for cheer..." Tim chuckled to himself as he navigated Gotham morning traffic and Alvin, Simon, Theodore and Cassandra sang it old school. "Want a plane that loop the loop! Me, I want a hooooo-la hoop!" Tim grinned to himself as Cassandra sang along with her typing. Mostly, he was just thrilled that she was actually typing. The Christmas spirit was just a bonus. * * * "I still want my harmonica!" Tim smiled to himself as Cassandra did a little dance while she made copies. Typing and copies. What had he done to deserve this?" * * * ".. Time for toys and time for cheer..." Tim gripped the steering wheel. It was starting to get old. * * * "... Me, I want a hoooooooolaaaaa--" "Cassie!" "What?" "Can we give the Chipmunks a break? You've been singing all day." "Kay." Cassandra went back to chopping vegetables in silence. Tim continued setting the table. It seemed awful... quiet. Chop... chop... "On the first day of Christmas," he started quietly. "My true love gave to me--" "A beer!" Cassie finished cheerfully. "On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... two turtle necks--" "And a beer!" Much better, Tim decided. *** December 5 To the Wayne-Lances, It's been an exciting year for all of us-- congratulations on your first Christmas together. We know that this year will be the first of many happy Christmases filled with togetherness and joy. We thank you for letting us be such a big part of your lives over the past year, and wish you all the luck and prosperity in the year ahead for yourselves and your ever-expanding family. Merry Christmas, Timothy Drake and Cassandra Cain To Donna and Kyle, Thanks for letter about cats. We have no cats, because Tim says they spit up on the carpet. If we had cats, I would put reindeer antlers on them, and take pictures. You should put reindeer antlers on your cats and take pictures. I would put one on our refrigerator. Merry Christmas, Cassandra Cain and Tim Drake To the Graysons, Here's hoping you all have a wonderful holiday season! May you all be safe and healthy throughout the coming year. You guys are really blessed to have each other, so we hope you take this season to relax and enjoy each other's company. Oh, and don't forget to have us over for dinner. Lots. Merry Christmas, Timothy Drake and Cassandra Cain To Ms. Stephanie Brown Thank you for the very nice card, even though we have no idea why you send cards year after year. Maybe you should get a cat. Merry Christmas, Cassandra Cain and Tim Drake To the Drakes, Dear Dad and Dana, Happy Holidays! Have a busy and fun-filled Christmas season. Here's hoping for another safe and healthy year for our family, and thanks for all the love and support you've given us this year. Give Bert a special hug from his big brother, and tell him we'll be there to help him watch for reindeer on Christmas Eve. Merry Christmas, Timothy Drake and Cassandra Cain To Roy and Cissie and Lian, Thank you for the funny card with the penguins on it. Tim laughed, even though he tell you he didn't. See you soon! Merry Christmas, Cassandra Cain and Tim Drake PS Have lots of sex. Roy and Cissie, I mean. Not Lian. Cassandra looked up from her cardwriting. "Not fair. You get all our friends that we like. Look at your list! Bart and Suzie, Mr. Fox, Mr. and Mrs. Superman... I get Aquaman and Plasticman. Only good person I got is Roy and Cissie." Tim scratched his head. "I know it's not fair, Cass, but, I just don't have your talent." "Huh?" "I mean, anyone can write a nice, polite Christmas letter. It takes an artist to express one's true feelings for a person in such a way that they can't even accuse you of being rude. I mean, would you rather send one of my heartfelt Christmas greetings to Aquaman or..." he picked up Cassandra's half-finished card, "'Dear Aquaman, tell all the fish I said Merry Christmas.'" Cassandra contemplated this for a second. "You right. My bad." And then they went back to writing. *** December 6 "Cass... please come inside..." "Oooh! This look good! You come look!" "I'm not coming to look, I was *you* to come in!" "Not done with lights yet." "Cassandra. We live on the twenty-third floor. We have no balcony. There is *no need* for lights. Please come inside before you hurt yourself..." "Been hanging off buildings just as long as you have." "And I wouldn't want to be out there, either, you notice. What's taking so long anyway? I thought you were just lining the windows." "Had better idea." "Better idea? *What* better idea?" "Hold the horses. Almost done." Tim took a frantic swig of Maalox, tapping his foot impatiently. "There! Turn 'em on!" Hestitantly, Tim placed the plug of the extension cord into the socket. Brilliant light blazed back at him from outside his window. He stuck his head out the window. It was outlined in sparkling colored lights, as was their other window further down the building. But as for the bare wall space in between. "You didn't..." "I like it!" Tim covered his face with his hands. Because if there was one thing he *didn't* need in his life, it was "Santa, drop presents here," electrified on the outside of his apartment. *** December 7 "We get Spud this!" "What is-- no!" Cassandra stuck her lower lip out. "Spud loves cowboys! Got Dusty the Cowboy and Buckshot the Bronco. Dinah got toy cows. Need this!" "That is NOT a cowboy." "Cowboy, cowgirl... all is same. She got cow-print chaps!" "Look, Spud's a little boy. He's not gonna wanna play with girlie toys." "Spud not CHEVY-NIST!" "Say what?" "Chevy-nist. When Roy tease Cissie, she call him chevy-nist. Means not likes girls." "Chauvinist." "Chauvinist, chevy-nist, all the same. Spud *like* cowgirl! Promise!" "What would he need a cowgirl for?" Cassandra, sighed dramatically, and looked at the doll. "Long cattle drive. Cold night. Dusty might get a little... chilly... in bed... by self..." "I... I think Spud could use a cowgirl. Round out the set. Yessir." "Ha! Knew it!" "Of course you did." December 8 "JINGLE BELLS! BATMAN SMELLS! ROBIN LAYS AN EGG!" "Bart, could you possibly..." "THE BATMOBILE LOST A WHEEL!" "Look, sweetie! Cassie made cookies!" Suzy Allen chirped, shoving a cookie into Bart's mouth. "Sweet Mother of Jimmy Olsen, she shut him up! It *is* a match made in heaven," Kon-El gasped dramatically. Tim clutched his head with one hand and his eggnog with the other. "Anyone wanna watch 'White Christmas'?" Wonder Girl asked, waving her tape cheerily. "'Christmas Story'!" Cissie replied in protest. "'Wonderful Life'! 'Wonderful Life'!" Cassandra piped up. Robin slurped some more eggnog. "You like 'White Christmas,' don't you, Kon?" Cassie Sandsmark pleaded, pulling out the deer eyes. "'Lampoon.'" Kon grumbled. "What was that?" "I said I like 'National Lampoon.'" "Don't fight with her," Robin shook his head, refilling his eggnog glass. "She can wipe the floor with you. Don't fight with her." "'WONDERFUL LIFE'!" "Shometimesh I jusht wish I'd never been born," Tim announced in a perfect Jimmy Stewart impression. "Tim, that was uncanny," Cissie replied, making a face. "Don't ever do that again." "Oh, watch that movie as many times as I've seen it this season, and you'll be able to do that, too," Tim groaned. "Look, look!" Suzy announced happily. "The Garfield show is on!" "Score!" The girls forgot about their movies and settled down to watch some good, old-fashioned Christmas animation. Which lasted for about five minutes. "Hey, Cissie." "Yeah, Cass?" "Roy show you his arsenal, yet? "CASS!" Tim just kept the eggnog flowing. Kon chuckled. "She must be a pistol to live with, eh, Rob?" "We, uh, have our moments." "And how's the married life treating you, Oh Personification of Distraction?" "Huh?" Bart asked, looking up. "The old ball and chain? How do you like taking out the trash every night?" "Yuk it up," Bart replied, crossing his arms. "But I'm getting something you guys certainly aren't getting for Christmas." "A DVD player?" Tim asked hopefully. Kon made a face. "For Pete's sake, Tim, you're the only person in the universe who doesn't have one yet. Even poor-as-dirt Bart had one way back in the glory days. Dude, you have a *six-figure income.* Go *buy* yourself one." Tim slammed back more eggnog with a glower. "It's...uh... nonessential... I have..." "Okay, okay, Bart, what are you getting for Christmas that's so great?" Kon asked, taking the bait. Bart nodded sagely. "Play." Tim just gulped more eggnog. *** December 9 Tim awoke and stared angrily at the ceiling. He really didn't want to be awake. He expressed that in the one word that accurately summed up his feelings towards the world at presence. "GRRRRRNNNNNNNNUUUUUHHHHHH." Cassandra stuck her head in his room. "You up yet? Nearly two o'clock." Tim tried to look cute. Maybe she'd have pity on him. "No! Stop that! You pass out at party and I have to drag you home." Tim sat up slowly, clutching his head. "The last thing I remember was Bart trying to dance to Jingle Bell Rock at superspeed and Cassie trying to give you hair tips." "That was when you fell in eggnog bowl. I tried to get it all out, but I think still some in hair." "Then I had a dream where I was Jimmy Stewart, but Bruce and Dinah were my parents. Dinah kept trying to get me to eat her mashed potatoes by saying 'How does the piggy eat, Timmy, how does the piggy eat?' while Bruce read the paper and kept grumbling about the furnace. Dick was there, too, and he kept pestering Bruce for a BB gun. And then Barbara came down the chimney and tried to steal our Christmas tree, which was about two feet tall and had a total of six needles, until you came into the room and said 'Why, Santy Claus, why?' And then we all had Roast Who Beast and eggnog." Cassandra blinked at him. "Stupid Tim not drink so much." Then she walked out. *** December 10 It had been a long night, but overall, it was quiet in Gotham. Batman and Robin stood the roof of Wayne Enterprises, their silhouettes barely distinguishable against the dark sky. "Something's on your mind, isn't it, Robin?" Batman asked softly. "Yeah, I guess it is," the Boy Wonder replied. "It's about... well, you know who." The Dark Knight nodded. "I mean, we're living together this year. And overall, it hasn't been that different. But with the holidays, I feel so much closer to her, and yet, at the same time... I feel so... so shut out. Like there's something great I'm missing out on. And I want a part of that, but at the same time, I don't want to lose this closeness that I've gained. Do you understand?" "She won't give you any truffle elves, will she, Tim?" "Not a one." "Dinah's the same way. I..." He trailed off. "Dammit, I want one." Dark Knight and Boy Wonder shook their heads at the injustice of the cosmos. "Women." *** December 11 Tim tried to quiet the chattering of his teeth. She might hear him. Using all the stealth skills at his command, he crept along the wall, inching towards his destination. Closer... closer... He reached out, his fingertips brushing it. He leapt for it, hand grabbing at the dial. "NO TOUCH THERMOSTAT!" Tim scowled. "Cass, it's 54 degrees in here." "Is cheap! You think we made of money? Go get another sweater." "Since when are you the cheap one? And I'm already wearing three sweaters! I *can't bend my elbows.*" She raised one eyebrow. "With three sweaters, you be cozy hot." Tim kicked the carpet dejected. "But I'm co-o-o-o-ld!" he whined. "Tim, that is sad." He used his secret weapon. "No! Not puppy eyes! Stop puppy eyes!" He was unrelenting. "ARRRRGGH! Okay, fine." "YES! HEAT!" And then Cassandra calmly turned the thermostat up to 56 degrees. *** December 12 When Tim Drake woke up, there was a layer of frost on the window outside. He was out of bed and into the shower with speed that would have make Impulse blink. Adjusting his tie, he skidded into the kitchen, where Cassandra was already wolfing down Farrina with a vengeance. "I'm not hungry today," Tim announced dramatically. "DONE!" Cassandra yelled, throwing her bowl into the sink and dashing out the door. "OH, NO, YOU DON'T! YOU GOT TO DO IT YESTERDAY!" Tim bolted out of the apartment, throwing Cass aside bodily to get into the elevator, punching the close button repeatedly. Cass was not to be denied. She whipped a batarang out and made for the nearest window. * * * Tim leapt off the elevator and ran for the street, and with a perfunctory nod to the doorman, dashed into the crisp morning air. "THE DAY IS MINE!" he announced to the population of Gotham City. But it was not to be. For Tim rounded the corner, only to see Cassandra Cain, wearing the beloved Garfield's Paw Icescraper Mitt, removing the frosty covering from the front windshield of Tim's minivan. "Beat you," she said simply, sticking out her tongue. "Curses," Tim muttered. "Foiled again." *** December 13 "It says we need fresh nutmeg. Do we have a nutmeg grinder around here anywhere?" "Use Old Bay!" "It's kinda long and conical... I saw one once on 'Two Fat Ladies...'" "Use Old Bay!" "I guess we'll just have the use the stuff out of the canister. What's next?" "Old Bay." Tim ignored her and consulted the cookbook. "Cream of Tartar." "Oh. My bad." "Right. Your bad. You just 'accidentally' saw Cream of Tartar and read Old Bay. Happens all the time. Riiiiight." "LIKE Old Bay." "Old Bay does not belong in cookies!" "Says you." "Yes, says me! If Old Bay belonged in cookies, there would be Old Bay in the recipe." Tim shot her a glare as he walked over to the cupboard in search of Cream of Tartar. Cassandra Cain's stealth skills were legendary. He never had a chance. *** December 14 The Christmas Cookie Table on the seventeenth floor of the main branch of Wayne Enterprises looked strangely deserted. Sandra's Pecan Sandies were reduced to a few measly crumbs. Only one of Dave's Coconut Haystacks remained, and a rather smushed one at that. A fine patina of sprinkles was all that bespoke the former presence of Patty's Famous Sugar Cookies. Cassandra and Tim's Lumps of Unidentified Matter had not been touched. Kevin Ormond was starving. And Tim Drake was staring at him. He'd missed lunch. He wanted a cookie. Smushed Haystack? It had been on the ground, and he heard that Crazy Norm down in Accounting had licked it. Tim stared at him harder. Kevin reached for a Lump of Unidentified Matter. How bad could it be? He put it in his mouth. He chewed. He chewed some more. "Novel." "Yep." "Chewy." "Yep." "Texture-ous." "Yep." "Vaguely reminiscent of... crab." "Oh, yes." Kevin grabbed the last Haystack and ran like the wind. *** December 15 "Why Bruce have tree full of bows?" Tim swished his champagne, hoping it made him look cool. "Because he has a bored, pregnant wife." "No balls, no tinsel, no pickles... just bows?" "Dinah and I made those bows. All 137 of them." He leaned forward and whispered. "We sat in the Batcave and made bows. For hours. It was hell." "Pretty bows." "Those are Dinah's. She... used to have... a flower shop... and stuff... y'know." "Oh, this one is deformed." "That one's mine." "Nice of Bruce to put your deformed bows on his tree. Especially for Christmas party." "Nice party, huh?" "Wanna go home." "Me, too." * * * Across the room, however, the conversation was *not* about Christmas bows. "Jeez! Even on their time off, Drake spends all his time with his secretary!" "I heard they live together." "Yeah? Well, I heard that Wayne forced the secretary on him. She's horrible." "Maybe she's some relative of Wayne's." "I think he's afraid Drake'll take his company out from under his nose, and stuck him with her to keep him in check." "Nah! I think she's some sort of bodyguard. I mean, Drake knows a lot of stuff about the company and let's face it-- if he got kidnapped or something, he'd be blabbing Wayne's secrets in seconds!" "I think they're secret lovers, personally." Suddenly, a head full of blonde curls poked its way into the conversation. "Who are we gossiping about?" The group of lower level execs and underlings stuttered and sputtered for a few moments. Dinah Lance waved her hand dismissively. "C'mon! Who are we gossiping about? I wanna play." "Er... Drake and his secretary." Dinah narrowed her eyes. "Well, *I* think they're a covert strike force that my husband keeps a failsafe in order to protect the company should anything go wrong, masquerading as office flunkies in order to protect their secret identities." There was a pause. And then a torrent of hysterical laughter. "That was great, Mrs. Wayne!" "Thanks," Dinah replied. *** December 16 "Elmo love EVERYBODY!" In seventeen seconds, this track will end, Tim told himself. Please Lord... if you are a merciful Lord... please let it go on to that song about how much Rosie is going to eat for Christmas. A mittened hand darted towards the repeater button. "NOOOOOOO!" Tim screamed in absolute agony. "What?" Cassandra asked icily. "Again!" a cheerful voice popped up from the backseat. "Want Elmo again!" "You saying?" Cassandra continued frigidly. "I was saying...uh... don't let it go on to that next track! I want to hear Elmo again too! Especially the part where he baas like a sheep! And the part where he tells Rosie O' Donnell that he loves her!" Tim blurted out, his own mouth betraying him. "Good. Me, too," Cassandra replied, smacking the repeat button. As the CD player whirred, Tim's heart sunk down into his lower intestines. It took twenty minutes to get to the mall. The song was four minutes long. How on Earth had they heard it twelve times already? Tim glanced in the rear view-- not to observe the cars behind him, but to get a glimpse of his baby brother in the backseat. Tim hoped he was warm enough. He'd packed the little guy in his sweater, snowsuit, hat, mittens, scarf, boots, jacket and thrown a blanket on top, but kids could get cold. You always had to watch out for pneumonia. Gator sat on Bert's stomach. Bert kept making biting motions towards the ragged stuffed animal, but, as he was unable to move any of his joints, his attempts met with limited success. "Why you put so many clothes on Bert?" Cassandra demanded. "He can't move!" "He'll freeze." "It fifty degrees out!" "He's small. He doesn't have a lot of body fat." "*I* not have a lot of body fat. You want I wear stupid snowsuit?" "You're tough." "Tim! I hot!" Bert protested suddenly. "See? He hot. His face turn red! Bert explode and it all your fault!" "He's not going to explode!" "Go kaBOOM!" Bert shrieked joyfully. "He's not going to..." "Don't wanna slpode!" Bert suddenly realized. "DON'T WANNA SLPODE!" Tim pulled the minivan into a parking space, and turned around. "You're not going to explode." "GONNA SPLODE!" * * * Ten minutes later, Tim, Cassandra, Gator, and Bert, clad in his overalls, jacket, hat and mittens walked into the mall. Technically, Tim and Cassandra walked. Bert rode on Tim's shoulders, Gator clutched in his hands, faded snout in his mouth. "You ready to go see Santa, Big Buddy?" Tim asked, giving Bert an extra bounce. "SANTA!" "You been good boy this year?" Cassandra asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Yes." "Gator been good boy?" "Nope! He ated sixty bagajillion people!" "Guess I gotta take his presents back," Cassandra shrugged. Bert contemplated Gator for a moment. "Well, maybe he didn't. He ated Daddy, though!" "He did not eat Daddy," Tim reminded him. "Mommy and Daddy just went Christmas shopping today." "Gator eat Tim!" Bert announced, shoving Gator's open mouth against the top of Tim's head. "Grrrr! Grrrr!" "Good Gator," Cassandra remarked. "Now I drive home." "Hey, look, it's Santa's house," Tim declared, as anxious to get away from the topic of Tim-as-Gator-snacks as possible. "You remember what to say when we get up to see Santa, Bert?" "Love you, Santa!" "And?" "I been good boy!" "And?" "Want truck!" "And most importantly?" "Tim been very good boy and want DVD player." "Riiiiight. You *are* a good boy, Bert." "What else you want for Christmas?" Cassandra asked, tugging on one of the earflaps of Bert's hat. "Cape." "And?" "Truck." "And?" "Pudding." "And?" "Truck." "And?" "Rocketship Stan!" "And?" "Truck!" Twelve repetitions later, and Bert stood at the front of the line to visit the Head Honcho. He chewed on his mittens nervously. "Tim, Santa is big." "It's okay, Bert. He's not as big as Bruce." "But is furry. Is Santa a bear?" "No, he's not a bear, he's--" "Furry like Elmo," Cassandra supplied. Bert looked skeptical. "I think Santa is bear." At which point, a surly looking middle-aged man with a five o' clock shadow and curly shoes came to take Bert by the hand, and lead him over to Big Red. A quick boost, and Bert sat next to a stomach that shook like a bowl full of jelly, staring up at a pair of merrily twinkling eyes and a nose like a cherry. "HO, HO, HO! What's your name, little boy?" Bert looked blank. "Bert," Tim hissed from the sidelines. "Well, Bert, have you been a good boy this year?" Bert looked blank. "I'm sure you have. Now, Bert, what do you want for Christmas?" "GATOR EAT SANTA! GRRRR!" Tim just buried his head in his hands. Now, there was no way he was getting that DVD player. *** December 17 "This is stupid. He has everything." "Yup." "The man owns a boat shaped like a bat. I mean, he can buy pretty much anything he wants. And does." "Yup." "I mean, this is the ultimate case of the man who has everything. I mean... what could we possibly get him?" Cassandra grinned. "Cookies." *** December 18 "Cassandra, I can't feel my feet. Is there any way we can hurry this up? Just a little?" "Shhhhhh..." Cassandra Cain stuck her head into the Douglas fir. "Whuz she doin'?" Crazy Lou, Christmas Tree Guru asked, scratching his ample stomach lazily. "It's... part of her religion," Tim lied. "Yeeeah?" "Sure. She was raised by Buddhist monks. They've got this Zen one-hand-clapping thing they have to do before they can sever the life of a tree." "This one NO GOOD!" Cassie yelled from within the tree, then pulled her head out. "Next!" Crazy Lou stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Well, I only gots one tree left on the lot. We call 'er... Big Bertha." "No..." Tim gasped. Cassie's eyes lit. * * * "Full. She's a little full." "Is BEAUTIFUL!" "Cassandra, I had to cut two feet off to fit her in here." "Is BEAUTIFUL!" "We had to move the couch into the hall." "Is BEAUTIFUL!" "It's going to take eighteen strands of lights to cover her. It's all yours." "Is BEAUTIFUL!" "I'm going to bed." "Is BEAUTIFUL!" "Whatever you say, Cass." *** December 19 "Cass... Cass, help, I fell in a pile of tinsel and I'm never getting out." "I do lights. You not even help. Stop complaining." "How late were you up last night doing that, anyway?" "Not important. Hand me garland." "You never went to sleep, did you? I notice we're out of Ho-Hos." "Ho-Hos are very... nutritious. Need garland, now." "Nutritious? Good for keeping you up all night long, yes. Nutritious, no." "You go sit on couch." "I can't. It's in the hallway." "Fine. Go... go eat tree popcorn." "You told me not to eat the tree popcorn." "Why you so difficult?" "Why is there my body weight in tinsel on the tree?" "Because we not have ornaments, so I do my best, 'kay?" Tim's jaw dropped. "What do you mean we don't have any ornaments? We have all the glass balls. See, you've put them all in the same corner of the tree." Cassandra fiddled with her hair. "Not that kind. We go to your house. You have Tim's First Christmas, Bert's First Christmas, snowman you made at school, things your mother make. I... got tinsel." Tim waded through the masses of tinsel on the floor until he could put his arms around Cassandra. "Look, it's our first Christmas together. So... maybe things'll be a little sparse." He blinked. "As sparse as you can get with a seven-foot-tall tree with more lights than Gotham International Airport. Point being, I'm sure that in a few years, our tree'll be packed with more stuff than you can shake a stick at. Promise." Cassie cocked her head slightly. "We have Tim and Cassie's First Christmas?" Tim grinned. "I'll get the Sculpy." *** December 20 "Cass... I don't know about this." "Is good idea!" "You know what's going to happen if we do this..." "Yup!" "Dick's gonna kill us..." "Yup!" "Barbara, too." "Yup!" "But..." "Roy and Cissie *love* it!" "Ahhh, what the hell. Sure." *** December 21 "Thanks for coming," Roy greeted merrily. Of course, it was hard not to be merry while wearing a blinking Santa hat. "I know we're all gonna see each other on Christmas, but I thought it'd be fun to have a little get together... you know. For the big kids." "And Cissie not there," Cassandra added. "That, too. Come on in." Roy led them towards the rec room, where Barbara and Dick and Cissie were already laughing and sipping eggnog. "The Graysons brought the happy juice," Roy supplied. "Oh, we brought something for you, too," Tim replied, handing Roy a long, wrapped object. Cassandra handed a similar one to Cissie. Their faces began to break out into twin, horrible grins. "No..." Dick gasped. "Is it...?" Roy murmured. "Could it be...?" Cissie added. "It's a beeflog!" Roy hooted. "It's a cheeselog!" Cissie crowed. Roy cleared his throat dramatically. "Beeflog, beeflog, what a treat! "A hefty hunk of processed meat, "Dipped in mustard, Oh what joy! "I'm jolly beeflog boy! "Hot and spicy, mild or plain, "I'll even eat the cellophane, "I might share some with my dog, "Cuz we both love beeflog, "Oh boy!" Cissie put on a stern face. "Roy, I beg to disagree, "Cheeselog is the log for me, "As a meal or as a snack, "It's my favorite saturated fat. "Cheeselog, cheeselog, "Cylindrical and yellow, "Cut the cheeselog, "And I'm a happy fellow!" At which point Roy chimed back in with his chorus, and the two continued on merrily. Dick glared at Tim and Cassandra while Barbara just stared on in horror. "You just *had* to do it, didn't you? Just *had* to get the beeflog and cheeselog, didn't you?" Tim looked at Cassandra. Cassandra looked at Tim. They both looked back at Dick. And then nodded enthusiastically. *** December 22 "You never get me!" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "That's what you think!" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "I never defeated!" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "I've got you on the run, now, lady!" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "My name is Cassandra Montoya! You killed my father! Prepare to die!" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "The Dread Pirate Drake leaves no prisoners!" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "You not kill me!" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "Perhaps if you make a deal... I could be persuaded to spare your life." WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "What kind of deal?" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! "Your life... for a single truffle elf." WHAP! WHAP! CRACK! Cassandra blinked at the broken wrapping paper tube in her hand, also half wrapped around Tim's head. "Looks like I win for now, Dread Pirate Drake!" "Nuts. Let's go wrap some more so we can get another tube." "Score." *** December 23 "Tim?" "Yeah, Cass?" "Wasn't we looking for Dinah's present way back at beginning of December?" "Yes, Cass." "And we still not find anything?" "No, Cass." "Tim?" "Yeah, Cass?" "My feet hurt." "Cass?" "Yes, Tim?" "Did you just complain of physical discomfort?" "Yes, Tim." "Yeah, that's what I thought. That's it! We're buying..." Tim glanced wildly around the store, then pointed, "That!" "The t-shirt that say 'Wide Load'?" "Yep," Tim replied proudly. It was even on sale. "Really?" Cassandra asked, incredulously. "We buy Dinah that?" "Yep." "Score." *** December 24 "--Bumbles BOUNCE!" Cassandra lay on her stomach, watching the television, absolutely fascinated. Though he knew she's seen "It's a Wonderful Life" in excess of thirty times, Tim didn't think she'd ever experienced the joys of "Rudolph" before. Next to him, on the couch, Bert struggled to keep his eyes open. He sucked on Gator's foot sleepily. Finally, the credits of the show began to roll. "Gee, Jack," Dana Drake announced dramatically. "It's *awfully* late. When do you think Santa will get here?" "Any minute now," Jack replied, playing along. "Too bad our two boys are still wide awake..." "Not me, Dad," Tim replied, punctuating the statement with a large yawn. "Boy, am I ready for bed! Right, Cass?" "Right! Time for sleep!" Bert glanced between his brother and parents, his face creased with an statement of concern only heightened by the Gator hanging from his mouth. The adults *never* went to bed before him. Something was up. "You tired, Bertie?" Tim asked. Bert contemplated this, then shook his head in the negative. Whatever was going on, he wanted a part of it. "No?" Shake. "Even for a story?" Bert paused, then nodded in the affirmative. "You want Daddy to read you a story?" Bert mumbled something. Tim reached over and pulled Gator out of his mouth. "Come again?" "Tim." "You want me to read to you?" Nod. "Okay, bud. Let's go." Bert crawled off the couch and led his big brother up to his room. Tim scanned Bert's shelf of picture books, before selecting a rather tattered one he remembered from his own childhood. Bert crawled in bed, and Tim perched on the edge. It wasn't until he closed "Morris' Disappearing Bag," when Bert looked up at him with liquid brown eyes. "Tim?" "Yeah, Bertie?" "Santa comes tonight, right?" "Right." "Comes down chimney?" "Yup." Bert fiddled with Gator. "Think Santa might be scared to come to our house?" Tim brushed back Bert's unruly hair. "Why would you say that?" "Gator try to eat him." "Oh, Santa knows Gator didn't mean it." "What if Gator tries again?" "Then you'd better hold tight to him, so he doesn't get away." "Tim?" "Yeah, Bertie?" "If Gator gets loose, you and Cassie protect Santa, 'kay?" "Okay." "If Gator eats Daddy, that's okay." "Okay." "Tim?" "Yeah, Bertie?" "Love you." "Love you, too, Bertie." "Gator love you, too." "Um, Cassie loves Gator, too." "Merry Christmas, Tim." "Merry Christmas, Bert." * * * When Tim returned downstairs, Cassie was watching the news. His parents had disappeared-- off to dig out the presents, he supposed. "Hey, Cass?" She looked up. "If Gator tries to eat Santa in the middle of the night, we're supposed to stop him, okay?" Cassandra looked confused. "Stop Gator or stop Santa?" "Gator." Cassandra nodded sagely. "Check." *** December 25 Tim awoke on Christmas morning to see a pair of catlike, brown eyes staring into his own. "AAAUUGH!" "Me, stupid." "I, uh, I knew that." "Course you did." "It's, um, four in the morning." "Santa came!" "Please tell me you haven't woken Bert up yet. My parents will kill you, and... and no good can possibly come of that." "Nope." She whipped a present out from behind her back and dropped it on Tim's stomach. "OOF!" "Open!" "It's heavy." "Open!" Carefully, Tim peeled away the tape and slid the box out of the wrapping. "It's... it's a DVD player!" Cassandra beamed. "You... wow! You got me a DVD player!" "You say you want one. Is good one? Babs helped pick." "It's great... it's just... after all this build up... I expected truffle elves or something." Cassandra blinked. "Ran out of truffle elves on December first. Bug Dinah. I think she has a stash. Is DVD player better than truffle elves?" Tim chuckled. "Nah. But you're better than a million truffle elves OR a DVD player." He got a smooch for that one. "Now what you get me?" "It's under the tree." "We go look." "Let's go back to sleep..." "I go get Bert..." "C'mon, crawl in bed with me and my DVD player... it's cozy." "But I want presents!" "Toooo baaaaad." "Tim! Tim wake up!" "Zzzzz." "TIM!" *** Happy Holidays! *** The End