Fic: 12 Years of Christmas 7/12: Baby, It's Cold Outside
Title: 12 Years of Christmas, 7/12
Authors: lady_sarai and zoe_chan
Continuity: Follows Young Justice and Teen Titans and main continuity up to the OYL events of Flash 13, then deviates.
Pairing/Characters: Tim/Cissie.
Rating/Warnings: PGish
Disclaimer: We do not own anything or anyone. We promise.
Summary: Tim and Cissie's first Christmas as a married couple. Tim has to work. Cissie is not amused.
Note: Tim and Cissie have been married since summer; they have an apartment in Gotham. Tim has since changed his codename to Kestrel.
Each of the twelve parts of this fic take place on a different year--they *are* in order, but they are not twelve consecutive years. We skipped over a few. Huge thanks to xenokattz for beta-reading! ♥
Part 1, Part2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
7. Year 10: Baby, It’s Cold Outside
~*~
Tim watched the end credits roll for A Muppet Christmas Carol with a certain amount of regret. It was already late, and he would much rather have stayed in tonight with Cissie instead of going out into Gotham looking for bad guys but… People were dying, and it was-sort of-his fault, which meant no rest for Kestrel tonight. Even if it was Christmas Eve.
He waited for the credits to finish before standing and taking the DVD out of the player. He put it in its case and set it back on the shelf with the other Christmas movies. He was stalling. He knew he was stalling.
Cissie approached him quietly, coming to stand behind him and wrap her arms around his waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and even though she knew what Tim would say, she asked, “So what’s our next movie?”
He turned in her arms and gave her a slight smile. "You should pick your favorite. I have to get ready to go."
She sighed. “Do you have to?”
He made a face. "Yeah, kind of. I'm sorry."
Cissie looked away for a moment, steeling herself. She stepped back, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them. “Tim,” she said slowly, “please don’t. One night,” she said quickly, before he could reply. She gave him a small smile. “Just stay in with me tonight.”
He sighed. "You have no idea how much I want to say yes, hon, but I really can't. Not tonight."
Cissie put her arms around his neck, and leaned up to kiss him lightly. “We can watch White Christmas,” she suggested. “And The Bishop’s Wife. I’ll even watch A Charlie Brown Christmas.”
"You're trying to bribe me with A Charlie Brown Christmas, and I have to turn you down," Tim said sadly. "The world is so unfair."
She frowned a little, settling back on her heels to look at him. “Why do you have to turn me down?”
Tim shifted uncomfortably. "A case I'm in the middle of," he said, trying not to be evasive. "It can't really wait the night."
Cissie’s frown deepened slightly and she moved her hands from behind his neck to rest on his upper arms. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
"I know," he said, frowning. "And if it were any other case, I'd let it rest, but I can't. People are dying, Cissie."
She pursed her lips for a moment. “Tell me,” she said finally.
"It's just-a serial killer. I'm hoping to catch him before he ruins someone else's Christmas."
Cissie was quiet a moment, sliding her hands down to cup his elbows. “I don’t ask very often,” she said finally, quietly. “Can’t Bruce handle it tonight?”
Biting his lip, Tim shook his head. "I'm really sorry, Cissie. The-the victim profile is too broad. He can't handle it on his own. Jason is off doing God knows what, God knows where, and Dick is in Star City this year with Roy. It's me or no one."
Cissie looked away for a moment. Finally, she said, “This is the same case that’s kept you out all week.”
"Yeah."
Cissie didn’t reply at first, continuing to look at a point past his shoulder. Then she looked at him and said sharply, “Don’t go. Stay in with me, please. It’s Christmas, Tim, and-you haven’t been home all week, and-it’s our first Christmas.”
"I know, and I'm really sorry. If I could stay in with you tonight, I would. I really, really wish I could."
“Yeah,” she said dully. She dropped her hands from his arms.
"I'm really sorry, Cissie," he said again with a small sigh, wishing there were some way he could make this better.
Cissie stepped back. “It’s fine.”
"Right," Tim said skeptically. "Which is why you're so mad."
She looked sharply at him. “I’m not-” She stopped, pursing her lips and crossing her arms. She looked toward the Christmas tree. “It’s just-this is not how I thought Christmas would be this year.”
Tim gave a sharp laugh. "Yeah, me either," he said dryly.
She glanced at him and watched him for a moment before turning on her heel and heading for the coat closet. “Try not to be out all night,” she said, pulling out her sneakers. “We’re supposed to be at the Manor for brunch at eleven.”
"I'll try," he agreed, watching Cissie in confusion. "Where are you going?"
“Out.”
Tim blinked a couple of times against the abruptness of her tone. "Out where?"
She finished tying her sneakers as she spoke. “Downstairs. See if Rosa wants help playing Santa for the girls.”
He nodded slowly. "Okay… I'll see you when I get home, then?"
Cissie gave a jerking nod, and then sat where she was, on the floor in front of the closet. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. Merry Christmas.”
Tim winced and knelt behind her to wrap his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Cissie. Really. I'll be home as soon as I can."
She made a strangled noise and pushed at his hands. “Just-go,” she murmured.
He swallowed his sigh as he stood up again. "Love you-I'll see you tonight."
Cissie seemed to curl in on herself, pressing her hands over her mouth. She nodded.
He reached out a hand to brush the top of her head. "Merry Christmas, love," he murmured.
~*~
Cissie sat in the armchair. She rested her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs and the throw blanket over them. The radio next to the bed was playing Christmas music, but she wasn’t paying it any attention. All of her attention was on the balcony door as she waited for Tim to return.
It was late. Later than usual.
The balcony door finally slid opened and Tim slipped through. He blinked around the room in surprise. It was late, and the lights were on. His gaze slid across the room until it found Cissie, sitting in the armchair. He smiled. "Hey, you. I didn't think you'd still be up."
Cissie’s eyes widened slightly as she looked him over and took in the fresh cuts and bruises on his face. She uncurled, setting the blanket aside and sliding her feet to the floor. “What happened?”
Tim shook his head and went over to her. "We caught the bad guys, that's all."
Cissie stood and reached for him, touching his face. She lightly ran her fingers over his new injuries and blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “About earlier.”
"Me too," he murmured, pulling her into a hug. "I wish I could have stayed here, rather than going out tonight."
“I know,” she said, hugging him back tightly. “I do. I’m sorry I was so stupid about it.”
"You weren't stupid," he said, pulling back to kiss her. "I wanted me here, too."
Cissie made a face. “It’s Christmas. I didn’t want to fight with you.”
"I know. It's really okay, though." He tugged gently on her hair to make her smile.
She did, and leaned up to kiss him again. “So you caught them?”
He nodded, exhaling. "Yeah."
She looked at him and smiled a little wryly. “You’re not going to tell me about this case, are you?”
He made a face. "Probably not."
Cissie exhaled heavily and ducked her head, pressing her forehead against his collarbone. After a long moment, she muttered, “We should go to bed.”
"Mmm," Tim agreed, hugging her tightly once more before releasing her. "Unless you want to do Christmas stuff before we go to bed. I mean, technically, it is Christmas morning."
“We… could.” She hesitated and shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe we should wait. I… don’t know that I’m in the right mood.”
Tim let out a little laugh. "Thank you-I'm not really either, but I didn't want to make Christmas suck any more than I already have."
Cissie made a small, frustrated noise and scrubbed her hands over her face, pushing them into her hair. “Tim. You haven’t.”
He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and kissed her on the forehead. "Maybe. Bedtime?"
She looked at him and nodded after a moment. “Bedtime,” she agreed.
He smiled and kissed her again. "Yay," he murmured happily. He turned back to the balcony to lock the door and pull the curtains closed over it. He stripped off his shirt and pants in preparation for bed, tossing them into a corner. He would toss them in the laundry later, but he was tired and just wanted to go to bed, now.
While Tim locked the door, Cissie moved to the bed, pulling back the covers. She had changed into her nightgown hours before, though she hadn’t been able to sleep. She looked up just before sliding into bed and froze. A sick feeling washed over her as she noticed the gauze covering Tim’s left arm from elbow to shoulder. “Tim. What happened?”
"Hmm? Oh," Tim grimaced at the arm. "Close encounter with a shuriken-not mine. It's not quite as bad as it looks."
“God, Tim.” Cissie sat on the bed, shaking her head. “I don’t-know what to do with you.”
He sat down next to her. "I'm sorry-I should have told you."
She dropped her head to his uninjured shoulder. “There’s a lot you should tell me.”
He exhaled slowly. "What… What do you want to know?"
She shook her head minutely, and took a moment to find her voice. “It’s just-you haven’t been here, all week. Even when you’re here, you’re-not. And it’s Christmas, and I’m your wife and… Tim, I just want you to talk to me.”
"I know, I just…" he hesitated. He knew how it would sound, and he knew how she would react. They had had this conversation or one like at least a dozen times already. "The case. It was-I didn't want to worry you with it."
Cissie made an inarticulate noise and sat up to look at him. “I wish you would stop doing that. I worry anyway.”
Tim made a face. "And I wish you would stop doing that."
She frowned at him. “Worrying?” She looked away, crossing her arms. After a minute, she said quietly, “I don’t, usually. Much.”
He bumped her gently with his shoulder, smiling a little. "Much?"
She couldn’t help a small smile, and turned enough to curl against his side, laying her head on his shoulder again. “You’ve been so-weird all week. Distant, you know. I can tell when something’s bothering you. It… I know you’re just trying to protect me, but it just makes me worry more when I know you’re hiding something, because-you don’t hide things unless they’re serious.”
"You're… right," he said grimacing a little.
Cissie exhaled explosively, bringing a hand up to thump his chest lightly. “Would you just tell me what happened?” she asked irritably.
Tim made a noise in the back of his throat. "The serial killer we were after was more of an… assassin, actually. He was working for an old enemy of mine." He took a breath, setting his jaw. "The victim profile was people who look like me."
She pulled back to look at him. “Like you.”
He frowned. "Well, me, in particular, but I think he was working from a list of possibilities, because he didn't know who I was, just what I look like."
Cissie drew a deep breath. “And you were on this list. And you didn’t tell me.” She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “I know why you didn’t,” she added irritably, before he could say anything.
"I'm sorry, I just-I was worrying enough for three people, and I didn't want you to have to worry about it, too."
“So instead you keep me in the dark?” She exploded, looking incredulously at him. “Instead you’re irritable and snappish with me all week so I start wondering if I did something to piss you off and I barely see you and we fight on Christmas Eve because you don’t want me to worry?”
"Cissie, the guy was killing families, too," he snapped. "He'd kill the not-Robin, then kill the entire family to reduce the chances of a vengeance retaliation. I'm sorry! I thought you would be safer if I wasn't here!" He scowled, trying not to relive the panic he had felt at the first few crime scenes when he had realized that this was what the assassin had been doing.
“Did you think I’d be safer if you didn’t tell me?”
"I should have told you," he admitted. "I'm sorry. But I didn't want you to worry about me." He snorted derisively. "Not when the 'big bad' was Johnny Warlock."
She frowned a little, and looked at him. “Johnny Warlock, really?” she asked, a bit skeptically. “Did you know that before tonight?”
"No," he said, making a face. "If I had known, I would have just taken out the assassin and left Johnny until after the New Year."
Cissie scrubbed at her face. “Tim. I don’t want to fight with you. Not anymore.” She sighed heavily. “Not on Christmas.”
"Me either. I'm sorry." He let out his breath slowly. "I'll try to be better about this."
She sighed with him, and looked at him. “I’ll try, too. And-I am sorry for giving you a hard time earlier.”
"I kind of deserved it," he said with a little half smile. "I'm sorry I missed our first Christmas Eve."
Cissie returned the smile and shifted to lean against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, too. But-” she tilted her head up to look at him with a small smile, “it’s just our first Christmas. We’ll have others.”
"Mmm," he agreed, circling her with his arms and toppling them both over onto the bed. He pulled the blankets up around them and buried his face in her neck. "Merry Christmas, Cissie."
She laughed a little and shifted to a more comfortable position in his arms. She leaned her head against his and let her eyes shut. “Merry Christmas, Tim. I love you.”
~*~
Tomorrow, part 8--What Child is This?
Authors: lady_sarai and zoe_chan
Continuity: Follows Young Justice and Teen Titans and main continuity up to the OYL events of Flash 13, then deviates.
Pairing/Characters: Tim/Cissie.
Rating/Warnings: PGish
Disclaimer: We do not own anything or anyone. We promise.
Summary: Tim and Cissie's first Christmas as a married couple. Tim has to work. Cissie is not amused.
Note: Tim and Cissie have been married since summer; they have an apartment in Gotham. Tim has since changed his codename to Kestrel.
Each of the twelve parts of this fic take place on a different year--they *are* in order, but they are not twelve consecutive years. We skipped over a few. Huge thanks to xenokattz for beta-reading! ♥
Part 1, Part2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
7. Year 10: Baby, It’s Cold Outside
~*~
Tim watched the end credits roll for A Muppet Christmas Carol with a certain amount of regret. It was already late, and he would much rather have stayed in tonight with Cissie instead of going out into Gotham looking for bad guys but… People were dying, and it was-sort of-his fault, which meant no rest for Kestrel tonight. Even if it was Christmas Eve.
He waited for the credits to finish before standing and taking the DVD out of the player. He put it in its case and set it back on the shelf with the other Christmas movies. He was stalling. He knew he was stalling.
Cissie approached him quietly, coming to stand behind him and wrap her arms around his waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and even though she knew what Tim would say, she asked, “So what’s our next movie?”
He turned in her arms and gave her a slight smile. "You should pick your favorite. I have to get ready to go."
She sighed. “Do you have to?”
He made a face. "Yeah, kind of. I'm sorry."
Cissie looked away for a moment, steeling herself. She stepped back, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them. “Tim,” she said slowly, “please don’t. One night,” she said quickly, before he could reply. She gave him a small smile. “Just stay in with me tonight.”
He sighed. "You have no idea how much I want to say yes, hon, but I really can't. Not tonight."
Cissie put her arms around his neck, and leaned up to kiss him lightly. “We can watch White Christmas,” she suggested. “And The Bishop’s Wife. I’ll even watch A Charlie Brown Christmas.”
"You're trying to bribe me with A Charlie Brown Christmas, and I have to turn you down," Tim said sadly. "The world is so unfair."
She frowned a little, settling back on her heels to look at him. “Why do you have to turn me down?”
Tim shifted uncomfortably. "A case I'm in the middle of," he said, trying not to be evasive. "It can't really wait the night."
Cissie’s frown deepened slightly and she moved her hands from behind his neck to rest on his upper arms. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
"I know," he said, frowning. "And if it were any other case, I'd let it rest, but I can't. People are dying, Cissie."
She pursed her lips for a moment. “Tell me,” she said finally.
"It's just-a serial killer. I'm hoping to catch him before he ruins someone else's Christmas."
Cissie was quiet a moment, sliding her hands down to cup his elbows. “I don’t ask very often,” she said finally, quietly. “Can’t Bruce handle it tonight?”
Biting his lip, Tim shook his head. "I'm really sorry, Cissie. The-the victim profile is too broad. He can't handle it on his own. Jason is off doing God knows what, God knows where, and Dick is in Star City this year with Roy. It's me or no one."
Cissie looked away for a moment. Finally, she said, “This is the same case that’s kept you out all week.”
"Yeah."
Cissie didn’t reply at first, continuing to look at a point past his shoulder. Then she looked at him and said sharply, “Don’t go. Stay in with me, please. It’s Christmas, Tim, and-you haven’t been home all week, and-it’s our first Christmas.”
"I know, and I'm really sorry. If I could stay in with you tonight, I would. I really, really wish I could."
“Yeah,” she said dully. She dropped her hands from his arms.
"I'm really sorry, Cissie," he said again with a small sigh, wishing there were some way he could make this better.
Cissie stepped back. “It’s fine.”
"Right," Tim said skeptically. "Which is why you're so mad."
She looked sharply at him. “I’m not-” She stopped, pursing her lips and crossing her arms. She looked toward the Christmas tree. “It’s just-this is not how I thought Christmas would be this year.”
Tim gave a sharp laugh. "Yeah, me either," he said dryly.
She glanced at him and watched him for a moment before turning on her heel and heading for the coat closet. “Try not to be out all night,” she said, pulling out her sneakers. “We’re supposed to be at the Manor for brunch at eleven.”
"I'll try," he agreed, watching Cissie in confusion. "Where are you going?"
“Out.”
Tim blinked a couple of times against the abruptness of her tone. "Out where?"
She finished tying her sneakers as she spoke. “Downstairs. See if Rosa wants help playing Santa for the girls.”
He nodded slowly. "Okay… I'll see you when I get home, then?"
Cissie gave a jerking nod, and then sat where she was, on the floor in front of the closet. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. Merry Christmas.”
Tim winced and knelt behind her to wrap his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Cissie. Really. I'll be home as soon as I can."
She made a strangled noise and pushed at his hands. “Just-go,” she murmured.
He swallowed his sigh as he stood up again. "Love you-I'll see you tonight."
Cissie seemed to curl in on herself, pressing her hands over her mouth. She nodded.
He reached out a hand to brush the top of her head. "Merry Christmas, love," he murmured.
~*~
Cissie sat in the armchair. She rested her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs and the throw blanket over them. The radio next to the bed was playing Christmas music, but she wasn’t paying it any attention. All of her attention was on the balcony door as she waited for Tim to return.
It was late. Later than usual.
The balcony door finally slid opened and Tim slipped through. He blinked around the room in surprise. It was late, and the lights were on. His gaze slid across the room until it found Cissie, sitting in the armchair. He smiled. "Hey, you. I didn't think you'd still be up."
Cissie’s eyes widened slightly as she looked him over and took in the fresh cuts and bruises on his face. She uncurled, setting the blanket aside and sliding her feet to the floor. “What happened?”
Tim shook his head and went over to her. "We caught the bad guys, that's all."
Cissie stood and reached for him, touching his face. She lightly ran her fingers over his new injuries and blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “About earlier.”
"Me too," he murmured, pulling her into a hug. "I wish I could have stayed here, rather than going out tonight."
“I know,” she said, hugging him back tightly. “I do. I’m sorry I was so stupid about it.”
"You weren't stupid," he said, pulling back to kiss her. "I wanted me here, too."
Cissie made a face. “It’s Christmas. I didn’t want to fight with you.”
"I know. It's really okay, though." He tugged gently on her hair to make her smile.
She did, and leaned up to kiss him again. “So you caught them?”
He nodded, exhaling. "Yeah."
She looked at him and smiled a little wryly. “You’re not going to tell me about this case, are you?”
He made a face. "Probably not."
Cissie exhaled heavily and ducked her head, pressing her forehead against his collarbone. After a long moment, she muttered, “We should go to bed.”
"Mmm," Tim agreed, hugging her tightly once more before releasing her. "Unless you want to do Christmas stuff before we go to bed. I mean, technically, it is Christmas morning."
“We… could.” She hesitated and shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe we should wait. I… don’t know that I’m in the right mood.”
Tim let out a little laugh. "Thank you-I'm not really either, but I didn't want to make Christmas suck any more than I already have."
Cissie made a small, frustrated noise and scrubbed her hands over her face, pushing them into her hair. “Tim. You haven’t.”
He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and kissed her on the forehead. "Maybe. Bedtime?"
She looked at him and nodded after a moment. “Bedtime,” she agreed.
He smiled and kissed her again. "Yay," he murmured happily. He turned back to the balcony to lock the door and pull the curtains closed over it. He stripped off his shirt and pants in preparation for bed, tossing them into a corner. He would toss them in the laundry later, but he was tired and just wanted to go to bed, now.
While Tim locked the door, Cissie moved to the bed, pulling back the covers. She had changed into her nightgown hours before, though she hadn’t been able to sleep. She looked up just before sliding into bed and froze. A sick feeling washed over her as she noticed the gauze covering Tim’s left arm from elbow to shoulder. “Tim. What happened?”
"Hmm? Oh," Tim grimaced at the arm. "Close encounter with a shuriken-not mine. It's not quite as bad as it looks."
“God, Tim.” Cissie sat on the bed, shaking her head. “I don’t-know what to do with you.”
He sat down next to her. "I'm sorry-I should have told you."
She dropped her head to his uninjured shoulder. “There’s a lot you should tell me.”
He exhaled slowly. "What… What do you want to know?"
She shook her head minutely, and took a moment to find her voice. “It’s just-you haven’t been here, all week. Even when you’re here, you’re-not. And it’s Christmas, and I’m your wife and… Tim, I just want you to talk to me.”
"I know, I just…" he hesitated. He knew how it would sound, and he knew how she would react. They had had this conversation or one like at least a dozen times already. "The case. It was-I didn't want to worry you with it."
Cissie made an inarticulate noise and sat up to look at him. “I wish you would stop doing that. I worry anyway.”
Tim made a face. "And I wish you would stop doing that."
She frowned at him. “Worrying?” She looked away, crossing her arms. After a minute, she said quietly, “I don’t, usually. Much.”
He bumped her gently with his shoulder, smiling a little. "Much?"
She couldn’t help a small smile, and turned enough to curl against his side, laying her head on his shoulder again. “You’ve been so-weird all week. Distant, you know. I can tell when something’s bothering you. It… I know you’re just trying to protect me, but it just makes me worry more when I know you’re hiding something, because-you don’t hide things unless they’re serious.”
"You're… right," he said grimacing a little.
Cissie exhaled explosively, bringing a hand up to thump his chest lightly. “Would you just tell me what happened?” she asked irritably.
Tim made a noise in the back of his throat. "The serial killer we were after was more of an… assassin, actually. He was working for an old enemy of mine." He took a breath, setting his jaw. "The victim profile was people who look like me."
She pulled back to look at him. “Like you.”
He frowned. "Well, me, in particular, but I think he was working from a list of possibilities, because he didn't know who I was, just what I look like."
Cissie drew a deep breath. “And you were on this list. And you didn’t tell me.” She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “I know why you didn’t,” she added irritably, before he could say anything.
"I'm sorry, I just-I was worrying enough for three people, and I didn't want you to have to worry about it, too."
“So instead you keep me in the dark?” She exploded, looking incredulously at him. “Instead you’re irritable and snappish with me all week so I start wondering if I did something to piss you off and I barely see you and we fight on Christmas Eve because you don’t want me to worry?”
"Cissie, the guy was killing families, too," he snapped. "He'd kill the not-Robin, then kill the entire family to reduce the chances of a vengeance retaliation. I'm sorry! I thought you would be safer if I wasn't here!" He scowled, trying not to relive the panic he had felt at the first few crime scenes when he had realized that this was what the assassin had been doing.
“Did you think I’d be safer if you didn’t tell me?”
"I should have told you," he admitted. "I'm sorry. But I didn't want you to worry about me." He snorted derisively. "Not when the 'big bad' was Johnny Warlock."
She frowned a little, and looked at him. “Johnny Warlock, really?” she asked, a bit skeptically. “Did you know that before tonight?”
"No," he said, making a face. "If I had known, I would have just taken out the assassin and left Johnny until after the New Year."
Cissie scrubbed at her face. “Tim. I don’t want to fight with you. Not anymore.” She sighed heavily. “Not on Christmas.”
"Me either. I'm sorry." He let out his breath slowly. "I'll try to be better about this."
She sighed with him, and looked at him. “I’ll try, too. And-I am sorry for giving you a hard time earlier.”
"I kind of deserved it," he said with a little half smile. "I'm sorry I missed our first Christmas Eve."
Cissie returned the smile and shifted to lean against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, too. But-” she tilted her head up to look at him with a small smile, “it’s just our first Christmas. We’ll have others.”
"Mmm," he agreed, circling her with his arms and toppling them both over onto the bed. He pulled the blankets up around them and buried his face in her neck. "Merry Christmas, Cissie."
She laughed a little and shifted to a more comfortable position in his arms. She leaned her head against his and let her eyes shut. “Merry Christmas, Tim. I love you.”
~*~
Tomorrow, part 8--What Child is This?