FIC: You Better Watch Out
Title: You Better Watch Out
Pairing/Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne
Rating: G
Warnings: None needed
Continuity: Current comics.
Word Count: 1120Summary: Clark and Bruce meet in Austria in December and Clark needs Bruce to help save Christmas!
Notes: For the World's Finest Gift Exchange, Prompt F36, "Christmas traditions/folklore from another country."
Bruce Wayne stood on the ruins of an ancient fortress and looked out over the city of Graz, its red roofs shining in the weak winter sun. He heard familiar footsteps coming up behind him and smiled slightly, but didn't turn around.
"So, why Graz?" Clark Kent leaned on the hand rail next to him, watching the funicular ratchet its way down into the city. "Vienna seems a more obvious choice for an Austrian city."
"Vienna doesn't have a brother and sister duo who fight crime in its streets. Graz does." Bruce shot an oblique glance at Clark, squinting against the sun. "So what coincidence brings you here at the same time as me?"
"Amazingly enough, a different coincidence than the ones that happened to bring me to Tokyo, Buenos Aires, and Paris when you were there." There was a smile in Clark's voice. "I'm visiting an old friend, a doctor I met while I was traveling here a long time ago."
"What a coincidence," Bruce said, keeping his voice as dry as possible.
"Indeed."
"A person might almost be inclined to think you were following me around and keeping an eye on me."
Now Clark laughed out loud, a warm chuckle that seemed to banish the December chill in the air. "Only a very paranoid person, surely."
Bruce decided a simple snort was sufficient answer to that.
They walked around the ruins in a companionable silence for a time, admiring the view. "Will you be back in Gotham for the holidays?" Clark asked.
"I plan on it, barring any unexpected emergency. Next week is Istanbul and Dubai. Then home."
"The kids will be glad to have you back."
Bruce laughed. He was still surprised how easy it was to laugh, lately. Things didn't seem to weight him down as much right now, somehow. "They've got things well under control in Gotham without me. I'm sure they hardly even miss me."
Clark suddenly reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, a warm touch. "The former may well be true," he said. "But never the latter."
Bruce wasn't sure how to respond to that or the concerned affection in Clark's eyes. Luckily, he was saved from having to by a chirping from Clark's coat pocket. Bruce frowned as he recognized the ringtone: the theme song from that ridiculous, highly inaccurate television show about Batman that had aired a while ago. Clark snapped the phone open before the song reached its final "na-na-na-na," looking slightly embarrassed. "Hello?" he said, then grinned, switching into decent German. "Doctor! How are you? Yes, I'm in town for a few days, and...oh? Oh, that's too bad, I'm sorry to hear it. What? You need--" He looked at Bruce with an alarmingly assessing gleam. "I think we can help you there, Doctor."
"I don't like the sound of this at all," Bruce said as he closed his phone.
"It's your chance to help save Christmas, Bruce!" Clark cajoled.
Bruce resisted the urge to facepalm. "What is it, Clark?"
"The doctor's home town is just outside Graz, and tonight is their Christmas parade. Unfortunately, there was a car crash--no fatalities, just some broken bones and concussions, but they need someone to play Saint Nicholas and Krampus, and they thought it would be great if someone the kids didn't know could--"
"Krampus?" The name sounded familiar.
"Yes, well." Clark cleared his throat. "Krampus is a...well, he plays bad cop to Saint Nicholas's good cop. Krampus goes around threatening bad children with a switching and basically scaring the heck out of them. It's all in fun," Clark added hastily. "It's an Austrian Christmas tradition."
"And what exactly does Krampus look like?"
Clark cast innocent eyes upward. "Well. He's...he's a demon. Usually all in black." He looked at Bruce, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "With horns," he added, helpfully putting up his index fingers beside his head to illustrate.
Now Bruce did facepalm. "No," he groaned. "No, no, no, no,"
: : :
A group of children, their cheeks rosy with cold, shrieked as Krampus minced toward them, their screams laced with a good measure of glee. The demon reached for the switches on his back and the children went into paroxysms of giggling terror, scrambling for the safety of their parents' arms. "Have you been bad little children?" cackled Krampus, waggling his fingers menacingly.
A chorus of spirited denial answered his question.
"Because Krampus will find you, and Krampus knows if you are lying," the demon announced in a gravelly, menacing voice, causing a few of the children to hide behind their parents.
St. Nicholas decided that was about enough from Krampus. "Behave, demon!" he rumbled from behind the white beard attached to his face. "Only naughty children need fear you. And it is clear to me that all the children here are very good children indeed. Aren't you?" He knelt to rumple one little girl's golden locks, and she beamed up at him adoringly.
"I've tried to be very good, sir," she lisped.
"And has she been good?" Saint Nicholas asked her parents, who were trying to hide their laughter as Krampus continued to caper and pull faces at their daughter. When they asserted that she had been a good girl most of the time, St. Nicholas pulled a little box out of his sack and handed it to her. "Don't worry," he assured her, "I'll make sure that wicked Krampus stays far away from you."
The little girl promptly flung her arms around his neck and announced, "I love you, Saint Nicholas!" to his acute embarrassment.
Krampus grinned at him, his unearthly blue eyes filled with mischief and affection beneath the black greasepaint as he danced around the saint, laughing and brandishing his switches.
"Sometimes it's a good idea to shake things up a little," Clark had said earlier, holding out the bright red suit to him, "not get too hung up on the usual roles. Maybe I just feel like being the scary one tonight. Besides," he had added, picking up Krampus's horned mask and smiling at it like an old friend, "whether it's terrifying the wicked or rewarding the virtuous, it's all in the cause of justice, right? Saint Nick and Krampus are really both on the same side, after all."
And Bruce Wayne, handing out another little box of candy to a delighted child, watching the surging crowd smiling joyously at him, couldn't bring himself to disagree.
Pairing/Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne
Rating: G
Warnings: None needed
Continuity: Current comics.
Word Count: 1120Summary: Clark and Bruce meet in Austria in December and Clark needs Bruce to help save Christmas!
Notes: For the World's Finest Gift Exchange, Prompt F36, "Christmas traditions/folklore from another country."
Bruce Wayne stood on the ruins of an ancient fortress and looked out over the city of Graz, its red roofs shining in the weak winter sun. He heard familiar footsteps coming up behind him and smiled slightly, but didn't turn around.
"So, why Graz?" Clark Kent leaned on the hand rail next to him, watching the funicular ratchet its way down into the city. "Vienna seems a more obvious choice for an Austrian city."
"Vienna doesn't have a brother and sister duo who fight crime in its streets. Graz does." Bruce shot an oblique glance at Clark, squinting against the sun. "So what coincidence brings you here at the same time as me?"
"Amazingly enough, a different coincidence than the ones that happened to bring me to Tokyo, Buenos Aires, and Paris when you were there." There was a smile in Clark's voice. "I'm visiting an old friend, a doctor I met while I was traveling here a long time ago."
"What a coincidence," Bruce said, keeping his voice as dry as possible.
"Indeed."
"A person might almost be inclined to think you were following me around and keeping an eye on me."
Now Clark laughed out loud, a warm chuckle that seemed to banish the December chill in the air. "Only a very paranoid person, surely."
Bruce decided a simple snort was sufficient answer to that.
They walked around the ruins in a companionable silence for a time, admiring the view. "Will you be back in Gotham for the holidays?" Clark asked.
"I plan on it, barring any unexpected emergency. Next week is Istanbul and Dubai. Then home."
"The kids will be glad to have you back."
Bruce laughed. He was still surprised how easy it was to laugh, lately. Things didn't seem to weight him down as much right now, somehow. "They've got things well under control in Gotham without me. I'm sure they hardly even miss me."
Clark suddenly reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, a warm touch. "The former may well be true," he said. "But never the latter."
Bruce wasn't sure how to respond to that or the concerned affection in Clark's eyes. Luckily, he was saved from having to by a chirping from Clark's coat pocket. Bruce frowned as he recognized the ringtone: the theme song from that ridiculous, highly inaccurate television show about Batman that had aired a while ago. Clark snapped the phone open before the song reached its final "na-na-na-na," looking slightly embarrassed. "Hello?" he said, then grinned, switching into decent German. "Doctor! How are you? Yes, I'm in town for a few days, and...oh? Oh, that's too bad, I'm sorry to hear it. What? You need--" He looked at Bruce with an alarmingly assessing gleam. "I think we can help you there, Doctor."
"I don't like the sound of this at all," Bruce said as he closed his phone.
"It's your chance to help save Christmas, Bruce!" Clark cajoled.
Bruce resisted the urge to facepalm. "What is it, Clark?"
"The doctor's home town is just outside Graz, and tonight is their Christmas parade. Unfortunately, there was a car crash--no fatalities, just some broken bones and concussions, but they need someone to play Saint Nicholas and Krampus, and they thought it would be great if someone the kids didn't know could--"
"Krampus?" The name sounded familiar.
"Yes, well." Clark cleared his throat. "Krampus is a...well, he plays bad cop to Saint Nicholas's good cop. Krampus goes around threatening bad children with a switching and basically scaring the heck out of them. It's all in fun," Clark added hastily. "It's an Austrian Christmas tradition."
"And what exactly does Krampus look like?"
Clark cast innocent eyes upward. "Well. He's...he's a demon. Usually all in black." He looked at Bruce, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "With horns," he added, helpfully putting up his index fingers beside his head to illustrate.
Now Bruce did facepalm. "No," he groaned. "No, no, no, no,"
: : :
A group of children, their cheeks rosy with cold, shrieked as Krampus minced toward them, their screams laced with a good measure of glee. The demon reached for the switches on his back and the children went into paroxysms of giggling terror, scrambling for the safety of their parents' arms. "Have you been bad little children?" cackled Krampus, waggling his fingers menacingly.
A chorus of spirited denial answered his question.
"Because Krampus will find you, and Krampus knows if you are lying," the demon announced in a gravelly, menacing voice, causing a few of the children to hide behind their parents.
St. Nicholas decided that was about enough from Krampus. "Behave, demon!" he rumbled from behind the white beard attached to his face. "Only naughty children need fear you. And it is clear to me that all the children here are very good children indeed. Aren't you?" He knelt to rumple one little girl's golden locks, and she beamed up at him adoringly.
"I've tried to be very good, sir," she lisped.
"And has she been good?" Saint Nicholas asked her parents, who were trying to hide their laughter as Krampus continued to caper and pull faces at their daughter. When they asserted that she had been a good girl most of the time, St. Nicholas pulled a little box out of his sack and handed it to her. "Don't worry," he assured her, "I'll make sure that wicked Krampus stays far away from you."
The little girl promptly flung her arms around his neck and announced, "I love you, Saint Nicholas!" to his acute embarrassment.
Krampus grinned at him, his unearthly blue eyes filled with mischief and affection beneath the black greasepaint as he danced around the saint, laughing and brandishing his switches.
"Sometimes it's a good idea to shake things up a little," Clark had said earlier, holding out the bright red suit to him, "not get too hung up on the usual roles. Maybe I just feel like being the scary one tonight. Besides," he had added, picking up Krampus's horned mask and smiling at it like an old friend, "whether it's terrifying the wicked or rewarding the virtuous, it's all in the cause of justice, right? Saint Nick and Krampus are really both on the same side, after all."
And Bruce Wayne, handing out another little box of candy to a delighted child, watching the surging crowd smiling joyously at him, couldn't bring himself to disagree.