Fic: Ring Out, Wild Bells (BM/WW)
Ring Out, Wild Bells
Synopsis: A brief New Year's Eve encounter on a Gotham City rooftop
Fanfic 100 prompt: New Year
Setting: JLAU, at some point after “This Little Piggy”
Rating: G
* * *
Gotham City, December 31, 11:40 PM
With just the softest thump, Diana landed on the roof of the Stevenson Building. She moved quietly to the edge of the parapet and sat next to the caped figure, whose shape was barely distinguishable from the shadows.
“Expecting trouble tonight?” she asked. “I heard all of your usual suspects were safe in Arkham for once.”
“Can’t be too careful.” Batman’s gaze never wavered as he scanned the crowd of New Year’s Eve revelers below, many dancing to the music blaring outside as they waited for the ball to drop.
“Ever thought about taking a night off?” She rested her chin on her hand. “I bet Bruce Wayne could hit any party in town.”
“You missed today’s society page, Princess. Bruce Wayne’s recovering at home.” He continued to watch the crowd. “Fell off his polo pony.”
“Perhaps he’d like some riding lessons.” She wondered if her smirk was evident in her voice. “I’m available next Saturday.”
Receiving no response, Diana simply sat and watched the revelers for a little while before deciding to try a different approach. “What behaviors are you watching for?”
“Suspicious body language. Sudden, jerky movements.”
“Like that?” Diana pointed out a man who appeared to be attempting to dance to the loud music, but with wild, uncoordinated motions and without rhythm. “Or is that just the gift of Dionysus?”
The corner of his mouth turned up for a moment. “Dionysus, but he ought to ask for a refund.”
The bells of Gotham’s cathedral began to peal, marking the quarter hour.
“Ring out, wild bells,” Batman murmured.
Diana listened. “They’re loud, but I wouldn’t call them wild.”
“It’s from a poem. One of Alfred’s favorites. He recites it every New Year’s Eve.”
“Oh, a tradition.”
“Yes.” They sat in silence for a while as the crowd’s attention focused on the glowing ball that was about to drop.
The music stopped and loudspeakers broadcast Snapper Carr’s voice as he led the countdown. But at five, the ball’s descent halted. Out of the corner of her eye, Diana saw Batman’s hand rest on his grapple gun as he moved into a crouch, and she readied herself for flight.
“Sorry, folks, minor technical difficulties,” said Snapper Carr. The ball resumed its fall, and Diana let out the breath she’d been holding.
The crowd chorused with Snapper Carr, “Four…three…two… one. Happy New Year!” Their cheers nearly drowned out the cathedral’s bells. “Auld Lang Syne” played over the loudspeakers, and couples kissed. Batman stood and Diana joined him.
“Another tradition?” she asked. Not waiting for an answer, she leaned toward him and brushed her lips against his cheek, just below his cowl.
He seemed surprised, even though it wasn’t the first time they’d kissed. She hoped he wasn’t remembering her brief adventure as a pig.
After a moment, he turned to face her. “That’s not the tradition.”
“It’s not?”
“No. This is.” And he reached for her, clasping her face with his gauntlets. She closed her eyes and felt his lips against hers, like that kiss in the Indian restaurant - yet different this time, with no audience, no desperate attempt to hide from Thanagarian troops. Her arms encircled his neck, pulling him closer. She felt his chestpiece press against her breastplate.
A sudden gust of wind blew across the roof, and Batman broke their embrace just long enough to enfold Diana in his cape. She nestled against him, not about to say that she hadn’t actually been cold, just savoring this rare occasion of intimacy. Time seemed to stand still.
The bells pealed again. Diana drew back and regarded him as she wondered what - if anything - this event meant, what it might lead to.
His mouth quirked upward, and after a moment, he spoke. “Happy New Year, Diana.”
She wished she could see the expression in his eyes behind the cowl’s white lenses.
Ring Out, Wild Bells
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
- Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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