Santa's Castle (With The Fortress Of Solitude Down The Road)

Fic: The Princess And The Pilot V: First Yule (1/1)

2009-12-20T22:28:12Z

Title: The Princess And The Pilot V: First Yule (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Diana
Genres: Challenge, Holiday, Romance, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: Mild ‘R’
Warnings: Sap Alert! ;)
Spoilers: None
Summary: Diana and Steve celebrate their first Yule together.
Date Of Completion: December 19, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 20, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1837
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for my 2009 DCU Fic/Art Glitter Winter Holidays Challenge: Prompts: Tinsel, Garlands, Ornaments, Glitter, Star, Jewels, Tiara, Crystals, Jewelry, Sparkle, Shiny (Just in time for Yule!) and for saavikam77’s 2009 DCU Free_For_All Winter Holidays Challenge. Prompts: No. 7: Feast and No. 12: Carols. :)
I had this idea awhile ago but got extra inspiration from kirax2’s Shortest Day for her Twelve Days Of Fic-mas written for my Steve/Diana prompt request. :)
I’ve collected all my Steve/Diana stories that take place early in their relationship under the title The Princess And The Pilot. The entire series can be found here.

Steve entered his home in the quiet Boston neighborhood, a fine powdering of snow on his military cap and coat.

He immediately was hit with the strong scent of pine, evergreen, and aromatic oils. Rosemary, sandalwood, and patchouli fragrances filled the room. Carols were softly playing on the CD player.

He entered the living room, a veritable twinkling Winter Wonderland brought inside. The tree’s lights were shining as the tinsel, garlands and ornaments glittered in the reflected light, the silver-and-gold star on top. Garlands of dark-green holly, ivy and red berries festooned the ceiling and mantel, and candles were lit all around the room, of every color imaginable. The coffee table was cleared of any objects except for another set of unlit violet candles and a fragrant evergreen wreath. The fireplace was unlit, but a huge, round log was set on the brick hearth. Something very good was cooking in the kitchen.

“Angel?” Steve called.

Diana emerged from the hall, clad in a simple white gown of medieval fashion, the bodice and neckline trimmed in gold and tiny jewels of every color and wearing her Amazon gold belt. Her tiara was made of diamonds, sapphires, and topazes, glittering in her dark hair, and she wore long, diamond earrings that swung lightly as she moved. A single crystal pendant on a gold chain was around her neck, the pendant resting comfortably in her cleavage. Her feet were bare. Music swirled around the two of them.

Don we now our gay apparel
Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la.
Troll the ancient Yule-tide carol
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.

“What…?”

“Tonight is the Winter Solstice, my love.” Diana’s blue eyes were shining. “I wish to celebrate, and I wish for you to celebrate with me.”

Steve smiled. This was going to be their first Christmas together, and now Diana wanted him to celebrate her religion’s holiday. Touched and honored, Steve nodded and took her hand. She smelled faintly of sandalwood.

“I have laid out clothing for you, and will tend to the meal while you change.”

Steve smiled and kissed her, happy to do as she asked.

In the bedroom he fingered the soft dark-brown pants and dark-green velvet shirt, cut simply and with thin gold trim around the neckline and hem of the sleeves. A white flat square box was placed on top of the shirt. Reining in his curiosity, he decided to save opening the box until he’d showered.

An examination of the bathroom found a bottle of sandalwood oil and he smiled, rubbing it into his skin after he showered. He combed his wet hair and went out into the bedroom, pulling on a pair of boxers and opening the box.

A crystal that matched Diana’s was nestled on a dark blue velvet lining. Smiling, he put the pants and shirt on, then the gold chain around his neck. He smoothed down the velvet, enjoying the sensation against his skin, and didn’t put on socks or shoes, going barefoot like he’d seen Diana do.

He padded out to the living room and joined Diana on the couch.

“Yule is the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year,” she said, lifting a match and matchbox. He could smell the scent of the candles: bayberry. “It is the time when the Sun God dies and is reborn. The Old Germans had a saying, ‘A bayberry candle burned to the socket brings food to the larder and gold to the pocket’.” She lit the candles. “They are lit as a charm to bring prosperity and growth for the New Year. I have anointed them with Magnetic Oil, the oil having soaked in a magnetite crystal from New Moon to Full."

Steve inhaled the strong scent of bayberry. “It’s beautiful.”

Diana smiled serenely. “Time to light the Yule log.” The CD looped over to start again.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
'Tis the season to be jolly
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la

She rose and picked up the log by hearth, handling it easily with her strength as she placed it in the fireplace. “It is made of oak, to symbolize the Oak King, who is born as the Holly King dies.” She lit the log and it blazed to life. Straightening, she touched the ivy on the mantel. “The ivy is the female element, and the holly with bright red berries represents the Holly King.”

Don we now our gay apparel
Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la.
Troll the ancient Yule-tide carol
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
See the blazing Yule before us.
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Strike the harp and join the chorus.

She went to the kitchen and brought in a large punch bowl and two cups. Setting it down on the coffee table, she sat on the couch.

“What is this?”

“Wassail.”

Steve could smell cinnamon and clove and tasted apple as he drank. “Mmm, this is delicious.” He took another sip. “Orange and lemon?”

Diana nodded and she drank. “Also nutmeg and ginger.” Her eyes were sparkling. “Many of the traditions of the Christian holiday were taken from the Pagan religions as you can see.”

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Follow me in merry measure.
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
While I tell of Yule-tide treasure.
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la

Steve nodded. “I’d read that somewhere.” As a lapsed Catholic, he understood the power of mystery. “The tree and all that celebration of Christmas was banned by the Puritans in Massachusetts as Pagan revelry.”

“Ah, so they understood.”

Steve grinned. “A Puritan always lives in fear of someone somewhere having a good time.” Diana laughed with him. “But I’m glad that the holiday I grew up with has so many Pagan elements to it.” He reached out and took Diana’s hand. “It’s a wonderful blending of traditions.”

She nodded and squeezed his hand, smiling as she put down her cup and pointed to the tree. “The robin ornament symbolizes the Oak King and the coming of spring.” Her eyes danced. “I’m sure Dick would be pleased to hear that.”

“His Gypsy blood must understand,” Steve said with a smile.

“As does your Celtic blood, my love.”

They exchanged heartfelt expressions for a long moment, then Diana squeezed his hand and said, “It is time to feast. Come.”

The dining room table was set with the finest china, and red and green candles burned around a centerpiece of a holly/ivy wreath. Together Steve and Diana brought in several dishes: rosemary-sprinkled roast chicken; a simple salad of lettuce, cucumbers, and tomatoes; cinnamon-sprinkled Yukon Gold mashed potatoes, shrimp and haddock.

“My friend Tony Alveretti’s family always had fish on Christmas Eve,” Steve observed, happily taking a bite of shrimp.

Diana nodded. “It is a Catholic tradition among the Italians, and other cultures further North.”

The snow was a beautiful backdrop as they ate, Steve smiling as Diana produced sparkling champagne. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting muted shadows on the tree as ornaments, tinsel, and garland glittered.

They talked of traditions and holidays, and Steve said, “Christmas Eve was always so magical for my sister and me as kids. We were excited about Santa coming and tried to get to sleep so morning would come faster.”

Diana’s eyes sparkled. “A fine tradition, this of Santa Claus bringing gifts to children all over the world.”

“All in one night.”

She laughed. “A man who dresses in red and lives at the North Pole and flies to millions of children’s houses in one night? Why does that sound familiar?”

Steve grinned. “Does Santa borrow a cup of sugar from Clark at the Fortress?”

Diana smirked. “That reminds me, let us clear away these dishes and I shall bring dessert.”

Steve helped with the clean-up, then sat in the living room on the couch dutifully awaiting Diana and the dessert. Though, truth be told, Diana was dessert enough for him.
Diana entered the living room with a plate of cookies that she set down on the coffee table. They were vanilla, molasses, and gingerbread, frosted with vanilla icing and red and green sprinkles.

“Yule cookies?” Steve asked with a laugh.

“Try one.”

Steve chose a molasses cookie and took a bite. “Oh, Angel, you’ve really come far with your baking lessons!”

“Thanks to your family.” Diana settled on the couch. “They have much patience with a novice in the art of cooking and baking.”

Steve finished his cookie and took another, the gingerbread this time. “Well, Angel, you’re a good student.”

She smiled and took a vanilla cookie.

The carols were a nice background as they ate and talked quietly, then Diana hopped up and went to the tree, picking up a present. She handed it to Steve as she sat down. “A Yule gift, my love.”

“Ah.” Steve hadn’t bought a specific Yule gift for Diana, but he could use one of the Christmas gifts already under the tree. It was given in the same spirit, after all. He unwrapped the shiny gold wrapping paper on the small, square box. When he opened it, he exclaimed, “It’s beautiful, Angel!” Steve lifted out a thick gold bracelet studded with jewels of various colors: red, green, yellow, blue, purple and white. Another one was still in the box, and Diana slipped the one he held on his right wrist.

“They are Amazon bracelets,” Diana explained. “They are worn to emphasize the special status of a Beloved of a royal.”

Steve swallowed. “Th…thank you, Angel.”

She put a hand on his cheek. “You are most special to me, my love.”

He smiled as he put the other bracelet on. “As you are to me, sweetheart.” He drew her into a kiss, her lips sweet and soft. “Mmm.”

Diana’s laughter trilled around the room when they separated, and Steve jumped up. “I have a gift for you, Angel. I think it’ll fit Yule quite nicely.”

He brought the box back to the couch and handed it over. She eagerly tore off the red wrapping paper and silver bow, tossing it on the coffee table. It never failed to amuse Steve that his usual methodical Angel loved to open presents this way.

She opened the box and a smile spread across her lovely face. “They are beautiful, my darling!” She lifted out the pair of crystal earrings. “A perfect match to my necklace.”

Diana immediately took off her diamond earrings and replaced them with the crystals, and she’d been right: they were a perfect match.

A kiss sealed the deal, and Diana whispered, “Come, the other part of celebration must be experienced.”

A little thrill running through his body, Steve happily followed his Princess to the bedroom, pausing under the mistletoe for a deep kiss.

& & & & & &

Flesh-met-flesh as skin slid over silk sheets, crystals glittering and bodies tumbling, mouths meeting and tongues tasting as the scent of sandalwood filled the air and the snow fell outside the window on the longest night.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Deck The Halls
Music, Old Welsh Melody
Lyrics, American 19th Century C.E.

Let It Snow
Sammy Cahn, Lyricist
Jule Styne, Composer
1945 C.E.

Fic: The Prince And The Reporter I: Gift, Unwrapped (2/3)

2009-12-20T01:28:28Z

Title: The Prince And The Reporter I: Gift, Unwrapped (2/3)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Clark/Bruce
Genres: AU, Challenge, Holiday
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: In a world where Bruce’s parents lived, he has carved out a accomplished life for himself and meets an equally-accomplished Clark for the first time.
Chapter Summary: Clark wants to know all he can find out about Bruce Wayne.
Date Of Completion: December 1, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 19, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1264
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for Fic Prompt No. F 21: Write a story where Bruce Wayne's parents lived, where he never became Batman, and where he funnels all that passion and intelligence into something *else*. Clark can be Superman or not, as you wish for the 2009 World’s Finest Gift Exchange and for my 2009 DCU Fic/Art Glitter Winter Holidays Challenge. Prompts: Glitter, Sparkling, Garlands, Christmas Tree, Ornaments, Shining. Also written for saavikam77’s 2009 DCU Free_For_All Winter Holidays Challenge. Prompts: No. 10: Santa Claus/Sleigh/Reindeer and No. 14: Snow/Ice. :)
The entire series can be found here.

II

LUNCHEON WITH THE PRINCE

And, lo,
The banquet hall
Was of glittering gold
And cold-smooth marble,
While the banquet table
Was laden
With the finest meats
And dishes
To water the palate.

The Prince
Bid the Scribe
To partake.

Sapphire Stagg
"Tales Of Spun Sugar
And Glittery Jewels"
1999 C.E.

The restaurant was at the top of the Wayne Enterprises building. Actually, it was the executive dining room, because it wasn’t open to the public, just to the employees of the company, who could bring guests.

Clark was Bruce’s guest, and of course Bruce had the best table, located right in front of a large picture window with a magnificent view of the city.

The room itself was decorated in cream wallpaper with tiny gold threads, and sapphire-blue drapes framing the windows with gold sashes. Each table had a light-blue cloth and the finest glassware and china, all engraved with the company logo. Conversation was hushed, the clink of silverware on china a backdrop.

The waitresses were dressed in modest black silk uniforms trimmed in white lace, and were cheerful and professional, the woman taking Clark and Bruce’s order middle-aged and familiar with Bruce, who charmed her. Clark hid his smile at watching the Prince at work, though he wished that Bruce would work that charm on him.

After the waitress left, Bruce shook out his linen napkin and placed it on his lap. “So, what is your impression of our little project?”

“Impressive. The data you’re gathering now must be invaluable.”

“It is.” Bruce sipped his icewater. “We have released some of the scientific data on meteors and comets and the like. Considering your town’s history, the meteor data must have interested you.”

Again Clark felt pain but hoped that he’d covered it. “It was. Hopefully if a meteor shower threatens Earth again, we can take of it.”

Bruce nodded, eyeing Clark thoughtfully. He ate a wheat roll, curiosity in his eyes.

“Have you always wanted to be a reporter?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a writer, yes. I used to write stories when I was a kid.” Clark blushed slightly. “I wouldn’t show them to anyone now, of course.”

Bruce chuckled. “I wouldn’t show anyone my model rocketships, either. Or at least the ones that were badly put together. Still, the effort counts.”

“And did you name it the Enterprise Project due to…?”

Bruce’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll admit to it. Yes, because of Star Trek.”

Both men laughed. “A good choice,” Clark said.

“Well, how could I not? ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before…’”

Clark almost choked on his icewater but quickly recovered. “Um, yes. An inspiring show.”

“With an inspiring message. When if originally aired in the 1960s, it was a very big deal to have an integrated cast, including a Vulcan!”

Clark saw the mischief in Bruce’s eyes and grinned. Buttering his roll, he asked, “I know that you’re in charge of R&D here at the company, Bruce, but what about the charities? You’re on the board of several, as are your parents. You have a good record of involvement with them.”

“I try. My work takes up most of my time, but I attend some of the meetings of the charities and the special events. I’m on the board of the Wayne Foundation, and that’s almost a second job.”

“No time for partying?” Clark asked with a smile. The wheat roll was delicious.

Bruce’s eyes sparkled. “Not as much as people expect, but I get my time in.” His expression sobered. “Gotham is in such dire need of so much. I feel that I’m making a difference with the Foundation, and hopefully I can make people's lives better with my research, too."

“That’s an admirable sentiment.” The appetizer arrived: crisp salads with lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, red onions, and shredded carrots. The dressing was a light Italian.

“The Foundation has many projects going, one of which is upgrading the quality of the shelters in the city. There’s nothing more depressing to come from an abusive home or find yourself out on the street and wind up in a shelter that’s dirty and dangerous.”

Clark appreciated Bruce’s earnestness. Curious, he asked, “What about your life on the debutante circuit?”

Bruce laughed. “That’s a quaint way of putting it.”

“Some would say I’m a quaint kind of guy.”

Bruce’s smile was really attractive. Clark didn’t know if alluding to being old-fashioned had been the smart thing to do, but he was nervous and trying to cover it up with whatever popped into his head.

Bruce sipped his icewater. “Some would say that quaint is a good thing in our slapdash modern world.”

Maybe he hadn’t botched it after all. “Well, you can’t get more quaint than Smallville.”

Bruce smiled again. “My social life is well-documented by the tabloids. I believe a Ms. Cat Grant is the gossip maven at your paper?”

“She is.”

“I’m afraid I’m not as hot a commodity as she and others of her ilk would like. I don’t party that much and I don’t squire around a bevy of pretty ladies, just a few. Someday I’m sure I’ll find someone, but right now I’m satisfied with the way my social life is going.”

Well, of course Bruce would say ‘ladies’. Most people didn’t mention their own gender when talking about dating, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t at least bisexual.

Dream on, Kent.

They chatted about some of the signature balls and parties Bruce usually attended, their entrees arriving, and Clark enjoyed the roast chicken with rosemary potatoes and chives and the fresh snow peas and carrots while Bruce savored steak hollandaise, baked Yukon Gold potato, and the snow peas and carrots. Bruce had chosen an excellent wine, and Clark decided to indulge. He rarely drank, but he doubted he’d get another chance to sample such an excellent vintage.

“You recently adopted a young boy from the circus?”

“Yes.” Bruce’s face lit up. “He’s a wonderful child. Bright, inquisitive, and sunny.” His expression sobered. “He still has moments when he’s sad, of course, considering what happened to his parents.”

“An accident with their trapeze?”

Bruce nodded. “The ropes broke and they fell. They did a specialty act without a net.” Sadness filled his expressive eyes.

Clark winced. He had read about the accident in the paper, and then followed the story of the grieving young boy whom the Prince of Gotham had taken in.

“He’s been a wonderful addition to the household.” Bruce took a bite of his steak. “In fact, are you heading back to Metropolis tonight or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Then come to dinner tonight at the Manor. I’d like you to meet Dick and Mom, too. And Alfred would be thrilled to cook for someone who appreciates good food.”

“Oh.” Clark blushed. He wondered if he’d ordered too much.

Bruce laughed. “I just meant that you come from a farm. You must appreciate fresh food and feel sorry for us city folk who get our food from supermarkets.”

“Oh! Yes, I do.” Clark grinned.

“Well, Alfred and Mom keep a kitchen garden, and we get all kinds of fresh goodies. Now that it’s winter there are preserves from that harvest to enjoy. I think you’ll find dinner to your liking. Come by at six and we can talk more over dinner.”

Clark nodded. Perry would be ecstatic, and he was happy to spend more time with Bruce. He was also curious about his home, and would like to meet the rest of the family.

So far, this assignment was working out well.

Happy Birthday!

2009-12-20T01:15:48Z

Happy Birthday, Irisbleufic & Jeannev! May you both have A FANTASTIC day! :)

Fic: Phantom Sands (1/1)

2009-12-17T23:17:11Z

Title: Phantom Sands (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Clark/Bruce
Continuity: Smallville/Batman Begins/The Dark Knight
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, disturbing imagery
Spoilers: None
Summary: Clark and Bruce must survive the harsh world of the Phantom Zone.
Date Of Completion: December 5, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 17, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 940
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ Third Anniversary Fic Request Meme for patrese_1. Pairing: SV Clark/BB/TDK Bruce. Prompt: Sand. :) She requested Smallville Clark and Dark Knight Bruce.

Clark winced as the stinging sand blew against his wounds through his thin, tattered clothing. He stumbled, strong arms keeping him upright. He mumbled his thanks, his words snatched away by the wind.

The harsh elements were a perfect commentary on this nightmare world.

His wounds throbbed as he fought to keep moving. They had to get to shelter, and soon.

Clark had felt pain before during the periods he’d lost his powers, but the wraiths’ talons had really done a number on his chest and back. He felt hot, which probably meant fever, especially as he had little resistance while de-powered. He didn’t have the normal build-up of immunity that a human did, considering it wasn’t necessary when he had his powers.

His companion stumbled, Clark reaching out to grab him. Liquid-brown eyes thanked him silently.

They continued on, weary as they fought through sand (nothing more tiring than walking through sand or snow) and tried to avoid jagged rocks and stones while keeping an eye out for the wraiths, Clark afraid that he wouldn’t survive another attack.

They reached a cave and staggered inside, going far enough to be unseen from the entrance. Clark stifled a moan as he was helped down on the hard ground, his back resting against a small, smooth boulder. He looked up at his ragged companion.

“I’m sorry, Bruce.”

His companion brushed hair out of his eyes, his face looking weatherbeaten from the sand and wind, but still beautiful.

“It’s not your fault,” Bruce rasped, coughing as the gritty air had affected his vocal cords. He sounded like his alter ego. “We both got…sucked into…this…this…”

“…Phantom Zone.” Clark grimaced at the bright red slashes across his chest, particles of sand clinging to his skin and wounds. His back felt like it was on fire, his chest not much better.

“How do we find water?” Bruce asked.

“There are springs all around. When…the Zone was designed, water was…included…”

Bruce coughed again. “I guess the harsh environment …was considered…just punishment?”

Clark nodded. “It was used…” he coughed “…instead of execution.”

“I might vote for execution.”

Clark laughed, groaning as pain flared. He grabbed his ribs. They were aching, but he didn’t think anything was broken, thank God.

Or maybe he should say Rao. Kara would be proud of him.

“I’ll get us some water.”

Clark grabbed Bruce’s arm. “You can’t go out there.”

“Clark, we need water.”

"We go together."

“You’ve got a fever and can barely walk!”

“We go together or not all.” Bruce started to leave. “If you leave without me, I’ll just come after you, on my hands and knees if I have to.”

Bruce cursed under his breath but returned to help Clark stand up.

& & & & & &

They found the water by some miracle of God or Rao, and some greens that somehow had grown through the cracks of rocks.

Thoroughly sand-blasted, Clark and Bruce staggered back to the cave, Clark able to appreciate the irony of their choice of shelter.

Doesn’t matter where in the Universe you are, does it, Bruce?

Bruce helped Clark lay down again, Clark nearly numb with pain. Bruce was right. He had a fever.

“Let’s wipe you down.”

“You can’t waste water.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Clark,” Bruce snapped. “You’re burning up with fever!”

Clark blinked away sudden tears. He didn’t like to get Bruce angry at him, and he was so tired and the pain was so bad…

“I’m sorry, Clark, I’m sorry.”

Bruce’s hands cupped his lover’s face and smoothed his hair, his voice worried.

“I’m sorry,” Clark mumbled. “Crying…that’s really manly, huh?”

Bruce laughed and kissed the top of Clark’s head.

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to cry with slashes across your chest and back and stuck in a weird, depressing place like the Phantom Zone.”

Clark laughed and clutched his ribs.

“Sweetheart, drink some more water.”

Clark obeyed, the water blessedly cool as it slid down his parched throat. He closed his eyes, his head throbbing.

& & & & & &

He was burning, fire running along his limbs and through his veins. He was so thirsty, so thirsty…he was bone-tired, bones melting, bones cracking, so afraid, so afraid…the shrieks of phantom wraiths piercing his ears, his heart pounding as he saw his lover torn to shreds just inches away , the iron smell of blood strong as it splashed on him and he screamed, “Bruce!” with a raw throat…

& & & & & &

“It’s okay, it’s okay, oh, god, please be all right, Clark, don’t leave me…”

Strong arms were wrapped around him as he shivered.

“Bruce?”

“Right here, love.”

Clark clung to his lover’s arm as Bruce cradled him to his chest. Blearily he saw a deep slash on a bare arm.

“Br…Bruce?” Clark reached out a shaky hand to touch his lover's arm.

“It’s okay.”

“No…”Clark was weak but determined. “Bruce, you didn’t go out there?”

“I had to get more water for you.”

Clark sighed. “Oh, Bruce.” Long, elegant fingers petted his hair. “You’re crazy…to go out there alone…but I can’t fault your…loyalty.”

Clark could hear the smile in Bruce’s voice.

“That’s right, Clark.” He kissed the top of his lover’s hair. “We’ll survive this place and get back home.”

Clark closed his eyes and slid his arms around Bruce’s waist as Bruce pulled him close. He ignored any pain, feeling safe.

Despite the very real dangers they were in from vengeful phantoms and the struggle to find food and water, Clark was confident that they would do exactly as Bruce said.

Not even the Phantom Zone could stand against the World’s Finest.

Yuletide!

2009-12-16T19:14:09Z

Hi, all! I'd like to encourage those who celebrate Yule to consider creating stories or visual art/graphics to honor this holiday, that's coming up fast (December 21st)! :) Also known as the Winter Solstice, it's a magical day and night, as the day is shortest and the night the longest. And I'm sure you can add some glitter 'n' sparkle! ;)

Yule is one of the holidays mentioned in my 2009 DCU Fic/Art Glitter Winter Holidays Challenge.

I might have a Steve/Diana tale to tell. ;)

Anyway, even if you miss Yule itself, you can post by the end of the year. I'm pretty Grayson-flexible! ;)

December 16, 1944

2009-12-16T17:14:48Z

Sixty-five years ago today, the Battle of the Bulge began, the biggest land battle that the Americans would take part in during World War II. Fought during the worst winter in memory, the Allies went up against the desperate, last gasp of the Germans, the Americans, British and Canadians lulled into complacency by Christmas coming around the corner and getting a rude awakening on the morning of December 16th as German panzers clanked and troops began attacking under-manned outposts.

Despite horrendous losses, the Americans and their allies eventually pushed the Germans back, and a month later the enemy was in full retreat back toward Germany. It was the beginning of the end for the Third Reich as the Americans, British and Canadians pushed from the West and the Russians from the East.

The infamous "Nuts!" reply from American commander Anthony McAuliffe to the Germans demanding surrender entered popular consciousness, McAuliffe's men surrounded at Bastogne but holding the town miraculously, stalling the Germans and helping to turn the tide.

Amazing stories have come out of the Battle of the Bulge. Just a little remembrance on this cold winter's day while we're snug and cozy in our warm houses.

Glitter Winter Holidays Update!!! (12/15/09)

2009-12-16T03:25:24Z

As the holiday season revs up, we have two more entries into the 2009 DCU Fic/Art Glitter Winter Holidays Challenge! :)

First, kirax2 has written a heart-warming Jason Todd Christmas story. Yes, you read that right! ;)

Second, my own entry into the 2009 World’s Finest Gift Exchange is an AU in which Bruce's parents never died in Crime Alley, and intrepid reporter Clark Kent of The Daily Planet comes to Gotham to interview him.

The complete Master List is here.

Title: Christmas Eve in Gotham
Author: kirax2
Characters: Jason Todd (Red Hood)
Disclaimer: The character belongs to DC.
Rating: PG-13 for a couple of cuss words, otherwise harmless.
Word Count: 560
Notes: Written for my Twelve Days of Fic-mas meme, for ladyblkrose. Also for the 2009 DCU Fic/Art Glitter Winter Holidays Challenge.
Warnings: None, really, except the one aforementioned swear words.

Title: The Prince And The Reporter I: Gift, Unwrapped (1/3)
Author: bradygirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Thomas/Martha (Martha does not appear in Chapter 1), Lucius Fox
Genres: AU, Challenge, Holiday
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: In a world where Bruce’s parents lived, he has carved out a accomplished life for himself and meets an equally-accomplished Clark for the first time.
Chapter Summary: Clark interviews the Heir Apparent of Wayne Enterprises for The Daily Planet.
Date Of Completion: November 27, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 15, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1853
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for Fic Prompt No. F 21: Write a story where Bruce Wayne's parents lived, where he never became Batman, and where he funnels all that passion and intelligence into something *else*. Clark can be Superman or not, as you wish for the 2009 World’s Finest Gift Exchange and for my 2009 DCU Fic/Art Glitter Winter Holidays Challenge. Prompts: Glitter, Garlands, Christmas Tree, Sparkling, Ornaments, Shining. Also written for saavikam77’s 2009 DCU Free_For_All Winter Holidays Challenge. Prompts: No. 10: Santa Claus/Sleigh/Reindeer and No. 14: Snow/Ice. :)

Fic: The Prince And The Reporter I: Gift, Unwrapped (1/3)

2009-12-16T01:34:29Z

Title: The Prince And The Reporter I: Gift, Unwrapped (1/3)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Thomas/Martha (Martha does not appear in this chapter), Lucius Fox
Genres: AU, Challenge, Holiday
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: In a world where Bruce’s parents lived, he has carved out a accomplished life for himself and meets an equally-accomplished Clark for the first time.
Chapter Summary: Clark interviews the Heir Apparent of Wayne Enterprises for The Daily Planet.
Date Of Completion: November 27, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 15, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1853
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for Fic Prompt No. F 21: Write a story where Bruce Wayne's parents lived, where he never became Batman, and where he funnels all that passion and intelligence into something *else*. Clark can be Superman or not, as you wish for the 2009 World’s Finest Gift Exchange and for my 2009 DCU Fic/Art Glitter Winter Holidays Challenge. Prompts: Glitter, Garlands, Christmas Tree, Sparkling, Ornaments, Shining. Also written for saavikam77’s 2009 DCU Free_For_All Winter Holidays Challenge. Prompts: No. 10: Santa Claus/Sleigh/Reindeer and No. 14: Snow/Ice. :)
The entire series can be found here.

I

AUDIENCE WITH THE PRINCE

And the humble Scribe
Bowed before the Prince,
Awed by his raiments
Of gold and silver.

The Prince waved his hand,
And bid him speak.

Sapphire Stagg
"Tales Of Spun Sugar
And Glittery Jewels"
1999 C.E.

Clark Kent pushed his glasses up his nose as he looked up at the impressive building known as Wayne Tower. The sky was gray on this cold December day with the promise of snow, but that was par-for-the-course in Gotham. He much preferred sunny Metropolis, but as one of the star reporters of The Daily Planet, he had to grab this story. Lois would be green with envy!

He entered the building, safely anonymous in his fedora and warm winter coat. Even with his picture published next to his byline, most people tended not to notice him. Frustrating in some ways, it worked perfectly for his profession in others.

The lobby was just as impressive, and not in the glass-and-chrome modern way that a Metropolis building like LutherCorp would exhibit. Here was old nineteenth-century solidity with a touch of the modern, like Gotham herself.

He shook his head in amusement at the use of the pronoun. When he had started thinking that way?

It was mildly busy at ten o’clock in the morning and he took the elevator up to the top floor. He presented his credentials to the middle-aged secretary, and the woman’s brown eyes crinkled as she said, “Oh, yes, Mr. Wayne has been expecting you, Mr. Kent. Let me announce you.”

Seconds later Melinda was escorting him into the office of the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Kent,” said the distinguished-looking executive, graying at the temples, a handsome man with bright blue eyes and firm handshake.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. A pleasure to meet you, too.”

“Have a seat.”

The view of the city was magnificent from the wide windows, and Clark said, “My editor Perry White said he got in touch with you about the Enterprise Project.”

Thomas Wayne nodded. “Quite so. Ah, Lucius, come in.” He waved in an African-American man about his age. “This is Clark Kent of The Daily Planet. My true CEO, Lucius Fox.”

Lucius’ brown eyes twinkled as he shook my hand as Clark asked, “True CEO?”

“That’s right. Mr. Wayne is also Dr. Wayne, and spends most of his time at the hospital. We share CEO duties.”

“That’s right, I’m the figurehead and Lucius is the brains.”

Lucius seated himself and crossed his legs, relaxed and alert. Clark could sense the genuine respect and affection between the two men.

“Well, I guess we can get started by you telling me about the Enterprise Project.”

“In a nutshell, the project is aimed at contacting extraterrestrial life,” Lucius said.

Clark nodded, knowing that much already.

“We’re working with the Government, but essentially trying to keep this a civilian project,” Thomas added, his fingers steepled.

“And that is because…?”

“I’d prefer that we keep it within the realm of peaceful applications.”

Clark took a few notes, fascinated by the project. He had always been intrigued by the stars, feeling a yearning to travel among the twinkling points of light. He had gazed through his telescope many a night back in Smallville.

“We are sending out signals now, but so far haven’t received anything back,” Lucius said. “However, we are receiving data that is scientifically valuable.”

They talked about some of the specifics, then Thomas said, “The man in charge of the project is my son Bruce. Lucius will escort you to his office in the R&D wing. He can give you even more details.”

Thanking Thomas, I followed Lucius out of the office and down the hall to another elevator which took us down, down, down to the underground level.

Down here was more modern in design but still had that touch of the old-fashioned in the prints that lined the walls, extolling the virtues of Gotham in decades past. They looked like something the Chamber of Commerce would have put out.

A few white-coated people passed by, nodding to Lucius but ignoring Clark. Business as usual, Clark thought wryly.

“We won’t bother to go to Bruce’s office. He’s probably not there. I left him with a new idea, so he’ll be out in the labs.”

Clark was eager to meet Bruce Wayne. Heir apparent to the vast Wayne fortune, he enjoyed a party or two and was often in the gossip pages and on the TV shows and websites that tracked gorgeous rich young men, but he was making a name for himself as a scientist and inventor. He was active in the Wayne Foundation charities that his parents funded, and had recently adopted a young boy from the circus whose parents had been tragically killed in an accident.

Clark and Lucius entered a lab, the bright lights illuminating several scientists and technicians in white lab coats, and Bruce Wayne was in deep conversation with a young blond woman who wore glasses.

“Bruce,” Lucius said, and the young man turned.

Clark stifled a gasp. He’d seen pictures of the Prince of Gotham, but seeing him in the flesh was stunning. Midnight-blue eyes were lively and intelligent in a handsome face framed by raven-black hair. Broad shoulders filled out the lab coat, and it was obvious that Wayne spent time in the gym.

“This is Clark Kent…”

“…of The Daily Planet. What a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kent. I always read your stories.”

His handshake was firm and his smile genuine. Clark’s heart did a flip-flop.

He wasn’t open about being gay, and this god before him was making him dizzy. He hadn’t seen any mention of the Prince going out on dates with men, so he was resigned to Wayne being heterosexual, but a guy could dream, couldn’t he?

As long as Clark could remember, he hadn’t quite fit in.

He quickly turned on his professional manner and said, “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox says you’re in charge of the Enterprise Project, and that’s what I’m here to find out more about.”

“Excellent. Thanks, Lucius.”

Lucius waved as he left, telling Clark, “You’re in good hands now,” and Bruce introduced the blond as Eve Stanton, the lab tech nodding her acknowledgment.

“Get on that right away, will you, Eve?”

“Yes, sir.”

Bruce turned his full attention on Clark. Clark almost wished for the blond to come back. How could he survive the undivided attention of this gorgeous man?

“So, I assume Dad and Lucius informed you of the basics of the project.” At Clark’s nod Bruce said, “I’ll show you the prototype.”

Bruce was wearing a lightly-scented cologne, sinfully expensive, Clark guessed, and his pants and shirt were of the highest quality under his lab coat, and were those Gucci loafers?

He felt terribly self-conscious about his suit, bought off the rack, and shoes that while shined, were not new or expensive. At least his coat was fairly fashionable, and his fedora seemed to suit him. He nervously pushed up his glasses.

He forgot his nervousness as he saw the gleaming silver prototype of the probe that was already sending signals out toward space.

“We hope to have one ready to go into space by next year,” Bruce said proudly. Clark had automatically begun to think of him as ‘Bruce’, presumptuous or not.

“That’s…wow!” Bruce grinned. “This is a fantastic project, Mr. Wayne.”

“Are you a star-gazer, Mr. Kent?”

Clark grinned, too. “Oh, yes! I would go out to the backyard and look through my telescope, even on cold winter nights. That’s when the sky was clearest.”

“You must have been able to see quite a few stars. You come from Kansas…Smallville, correct?”

“Why, yes.” Clark was amazed that this busy, important man had bothered to research him. He realized that this was a man for whom detail was important. “My mom and dad have a farm outside of town.”

“I envy you. I had a good vantage point from the Manor, but the lights from the city cut down on what I could see.”

Clark was surprised that this self-confident man could be envious of him about anything, but he said, “Well, Mr. Wayne, it was a great spot for star-gazing, to be sure. It took me awhile to get used to the skies over Metropolis.”

“Call me Bruce.”

Startled, Clark smiled. He noticed that Bruce appeared startled, too, but said, “Call me Clark.”

They exchanged smiles.

Bruce gave Clark some technical data, but Clark knew that he wasn’t getting it all. He hadn’t expected to, given the fierce rivalry that Wayne Enterprises had with LutherCorp and Queen Enterprises for projects like this. All three of the heirs apparent had gone to school together at Excelsior, an exclusive prep school, and knew each other well. Clark had met Lex Luthor, and the man was intense and ambitious, and Oliver Queen was rumored to be the same despite his party boy ways.

“Do you believe in alien life out there, Clark?” Bruce asked as they walked around to the other side of the observation room, viewing the prototype from another angle.

“I do. There are just too many stars and planets and galaxies for there not to be. Pretty arrogant of man to believe we’re all that’s out there.”

Bruce smiled. “Even though the only signs of life we’ve had so far have been UFOs and little green men?”

Clark laughed. “And always appearing to people out in the country, like Smallville.”

“You’ve had sightings there?”

“Yes, periodically we get strange lights in the sky, and we had a meteor shower years ago.” He clamped down on a stab of sadness.

Bruce cocked his head. “Are you all right?”

Clark nodded. “I…the meteor shower did extensive damage.”

Bruce studied him for a moment, then said, “I’m sorry to hear that. I remember reading about that shower. No rocketships among the meteors?”

Clark smiled a little. “No.” He changed the subject. “Has the Government given you any trouble about this project? Your father mentioned his desire to keep it under civilian control.”

“We can do so, because we have the money to finance the project. Dad isn’t anti-military, recognizing that we need a strong military for our defense, but he knows the types that make a career in that field, and some of them want to apply everything to military purposes. Dad and Mom believe that we should explore non-military solutions to problems, too.”

“I’d like to get a little deeper into that…”

Bruce briefly rested a hand on Clark’s arm. “You can, but right now I have a meeting. However, if you’d like to wait, I can take you to lunch.”

“I’d like that.”

The fact that he liked the idea for more than his story purposes remained his secret.

“Good. I’ll have Eve escort you back to Dad’s outer office and you can wait there. I’ll be along in about a half hour.”

Clark watched the Prince of Gotham return to his research, and hoped he wouldn’t make a fool of himself over lunch.

Fic: Under The Christmas Tree (Tied Up With A Big, Red Bow) (1/1)

2009-12-15T01:47:32Z

Title: Under The Christmas Tree (Tied Up With A Big, Red Bow) (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Mel/Johnny, Red/Homer (implied)
Fandom: Public Enemies
Genres: Challenge, Fluff, Holiday, Humor, a touch of Crack! ;)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sap alert! ;)
Spoilers: Not really. :)
Summary: Johnny yearns for a Christmas gift he can’t have. Or can he?
Date Of Completion: December 4, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 14, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1936
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my 2009 Guns_Fedoras Public Enemies Fic/Art Winter Holidays Challenge. :)

Under the Christmas tree,
You will see,
The prettiest gift
To you from me.

All tied up
With a bow
Of red,
All tied up,
Is what I said.

Just give the bow
A gentle tug,
And watch your gift
Tumble out
Onto the rug.

Silky-soft
And shimmering,
Silky-soft
And glimmering.

And no more
Christmas blues.
All your dreams
Just came true.

Sapphire Stagg
"O, Christmas Tree!"
1934 C.E.

Christmas music played from a loudspeaker from the Christmas tree lot on the corner as Johnny watched the toy train chug along the tracks around the tree in the department store display window. Silver tinsel glittered on the branches and huge, shiny, round ornaments of red, blue, green, and yellow decorated the tree. A multicolored star topped the tree.

Gaily-painted Nutcrackers and wooden soldiers were arranged along the sides and under the tree; a china doll with big, blue eyes and golden hair stared out with a rosy china-painted smile, and a family of Teddy bears were dressed in red-and-green while using a plastic tea set of red-and-white.

Snow was piled on the sidewalks and dusted the trees in the lot. The weather forecast predicted another storm, just in time for Christmas Eve tomorrow.

Johnny sighed wistfully just as Red approached and clapped a big hand on his shoulder.

“Got the holiday blues, my friend?”

Johnny smiled slightly. “I guess. I got some presents for Audrey and Hubert and the kids. Don’t worry, I sent them the gifts by a safe method.” He didn’t mention the gift he had gotten for his father. Despite their estrangement, he just couldn’t leave his old man out.

“I know you won’t endanger the boys.” Red squeezed his shoulder and removed his hand. “Aren’t those bears playing that new game they’re testing out?”

Johnny craned his neck. “They are! That’s a Monopoly board, all right.”

“So what do you want for Christmas?”

Wistfulness once again crossed his friend’s face. “Something I can’t have,” he said softly.

Red stifled a sigh. Johnny wasn’t as child-like as Homer could be, but he was still young, even though he was thirty years old.

It was probably because he had spent nearly all of his twenties in prison for a fifty-dollar stick-up. Johnny had an appetite for life that was very appealing.

It was Johnny who had suggested this Christmas shopping trip to the mid-sized city of Grand Rapids. Risky, but Johnny lived for risk. Red had to admit that it gave him gray hairs but was exciting, too.

“Hey, Red!” Homer hurried up the sidewalk, brightly-colored bags bouncing against his legs and a stack of shiny-wrapped boxes in his arms, nearly obscuring his face. “You should go into the department store and see all the great stuff they’ve got. I bought almost all of my presents.”

Red smiled affectionately. “Great, Homer. Put your stuff in the car and you can come with me while I shop and finish yours.”

Homer hurried to the side street where they had parked the Buick.

“Are you finished shopping, Johnny?”

“Yeah. I put my presents in the car.” He pulled his fedora lower over his eyes. “I’m going to go take in a movie. I’ll meet you guys at the car at five.”

Red watched as his best friend walked down the sidewalk, shoulders slumped. He loved Johnny like a brother. He really wished he could get him what he wanted, impossible as it was.

& & & & & &

Johnny slumped in the theater seat. As much as he loved movies, he hadn’t really cared what was playing. He just wanted to watch the Movietone news, always in hope...

The Warner Brothers cartoon ended and the newsreel began.

Johnny watched as the Germans chanted and saluted, “Heil Hitler!” for their new Chancellor. Johnny was amazed at how in lockstep the Germans could be. He couldn’t imagine Americans agreeing about anything so uniformly, especially not a political leader or movement.

All this saluting and boot-clicking made him vaguely uneasy.

The news switched to Ethiopia, the impressive Emperor Haile Selassie reviewing his troops, and then there was a shot of Buckingham Palace as King George V waved from the balcony to his adoring subjects.

Domestic scenes came next, the screen flickering as Eleanor Roosevelt was shown at a square dance in West Virginia, then her husband speaking about the Civilian Conservation Corps, then a shot of the Bureau of Investigation headquarters in Washington, D.C.

Johnny sat up, expression hopeful as he listened to the narration.

“Director J. Edgar Hoover honored his No. 1 G-Man, Melvin Purvis, with a commendation for the apprehension of several criminals in Kansas City.”

Johnny’s eyes were riveted to the screen as the Special Agent stepped up to the microphone in front of a gaggle of reporters. Johnny leaned forward.

Agent Melvin Purvis wore his raven-black hair slicked back in the fashion of the day, accentuating high cheekbones and a sensuous mouth. Enormous eyes captivated Johnny.

“Thank you, Director. I am honored to receive this commendation, and wish to commend my colleagues in the Kansas City Bureau. It is with teamwork that we brought down the Kansas City gang.”

The warm, honeyed Southern-accented tones washed over Johnny.

He tried to restrain his yearning, but gave up and let it roll over him as he avidly drank in the sight of Mel’s beauty, and the man had plenty of that.

He’d seen Melvin Purvis before, on the theater screen and in newspaper photos. He’d picked up a copy of Time magazine and seen some glossy photographs in a story on the Bureau, and when one of the gang had remarked on a cover story about Purvis in Life magazine, Johnny had read the copy and eagerly looked at the color photographs, many featuring the No. 1 G-Man, the ‘Clark Gable’ of the Bureau.

Clark Gable is a good comparison, though ol’ Mel is prettier.

He sighed. He had a craving for this man that could never be satisfied.

Johnny let himself indulge in aesthetic appreciation of the beautiful man on-screen.

“John Dillinger? We of the Bureau will apprehend him, that I promise, suh.”

Johnny smiled.

We’ll see, Beautiful.

& & & & & &

The house the gang had rented was decorated with fresh evergreen garlands wound around the front pillars. Inside, they smelled fragrant looped around the staircase leading up from the small foyer. Red had picked out a wreath for the front door, decorated with red berries and a red velvet bow.

In the living room was a tree decorated with newly-bought ornaments of red, green, yellow, and blue, gold and silver garland and silver tinsel winking in the sunlight. Johnny had picked out the silver-and-gold star on top of the tree, his infectious enthusiasm caught by his gang, who had gotten into the holiday spirit.

In that spirit, his men had not only bought presents to send back home to their families, but for each other. Flush with cash from their last bank job, they had spent generously. The results were piled under the tree in shiny wrapping paper and glittery bows of red, green, and gold, Johnny checking a few tags and finding his name. He surveyed the rest of the presents while sipping a cup of hot chocolate, tiny marshmallows floating around on top of the drink.

He liked hiding in plain sight. People never really noticed you if you did that. And decorating the house was just part of the neighborhood. Besides, he liked the holiday trappings. After nine years of drab prison, he liked everything about this time of year, from the taste of cold snowflakes on his tongue to the smell of fresh evergreen in the house.

“The boys went all out, eh?” Red asked as he came in from the kitchen.

“They sure did.” Johnny took a sip of chocolate. “Guess the money was burnin’ a hole in their pockets.” He smirked. “I didn’t see a gift from you under the tree.”

“Hey, I’m still thinkin’.” Red bent down to read a tag. “Whatever I get you, it’ll be tied with a nice, big, red bow.”

Johnny grinned. “With any luck, you’ll be able to have plenty of time to shop. At this time of year, even Feds get distracted with shopping and office parties and writing letters to Santa.”

Red laughed. “Oh, never change, Johnny.”

& & & & & &

Johnny smiled, his gaze falling on the newspaper tossed on the coffee table. The headlines screamed, ‘No. 1 G-Man Coming To Detroit For A Conference On Crime.’ A picture of the Golden-Haired Boy graced the front page, except of course he wasn’t golden-haired, but the thought counted.

Red saw the longing and a crazy idea hit him.

Even crazier than robbing banks under the noses of the Feds.

& & & & & &

Well, this was all cozy: a fire crackling in the hearth, fresh-baked Christmas cookies from the local bakery, hot chocolate, and snow falling outside the windows.

Johnny felt very domestic as he sat in a comfortable chair by the tree, the radio volume low as Christmas music played. The rest of the gang was in the kitchen wrapping last-minute gifts and enjoying the assortment of cookies.

The only thing missing was Red. He’d been gone for hours on his last-minute shopping trip. Had the Feds picked him up?

“Now a pretty little song on Christmas Eve…” intoned the radio announcer. “Winter Wonderland…

“Sleigh bells ring/Are you listening/In the lane/Snow is glistening…”

Johnny peered out at the snow rapidly falling outside. The flakes were getting bigger, and as a lifelong Indianan, Johnny knew a developing snowstorm when he saw one. He hoped Red could get back in time before it became impossible.

He returned to his Lone Ranger novel, enjoying the Western derring-do as he concentrated on the coziness of the scene, sipping his chocolate and eating shortbread cookies with vanilla icing and red and green sprinkles, worry for Red in the back of his mind.

& & & & & &

An hour later, Johnny heard the sound of the Buick’s engine chugging through the snow. Setting aside his book, he jumped up, relief washing over him at his friend’s safe return.

He opened the front door, “Where have you been all day…?” just as Red came through the door carrying a traveling bag used for clothing. It was slung over his shoulder, Johnny’s jaw dropping. “What the hell…?”

Red walked into the living room, tiny flakes of snow showering down as he laid the bag under the tree, followed by a sputtering Johnny.

“Red, what are you doing?”

Red unzipped the bag and gently shook it, a man rolling out wrapped in shimmering red silk, sooty lashes curving over high cheekbones. A red bow was tied around his neck and around his wrists in front of his body.

Johnny’s jaw dropped as he gazed upon the gorgeous form of Melvin Purvis.

Red brushed by him as he said, “Merry Christmas, Johnny. Hey, Homer, I smell gingerbread cookies!”

“Santa Claus is comin’ to town…” crooned the voice from the radio.

Johnny stared, then he broke into a big smile as he leaned down, admiring the glitter of tinsel sprinkled in Mel’s dark hair. His gaze traveled the length of the long, lean body, his smirk growing wider as he saw the red bow tied around Mel’s groin. Mel’s eyes fluttered open and met his for a long moment, Johnny’s hand reaching down to untie the bow...well, no surprise which one!

Red sure was a great friend.

Best Christmas gift ever!

Happy Birthday!

2009-12-14T02:28:07Z

Happy Birthday,

Quyllur!

May your day

Be the best

EVER!!!

:)

Week 14: New England Patriots 20, Carolina Panthers 10 (8-5) (Sunday, December 13, 2009)

2009-12-14T02:20:07Z

Week 14: New England Patriots 20, Carolina Panthers 10 (8-5) (Sunday, December 13, 2009)

It’s probably good that the Patriots played a team today that couldn’t move the ball. The Pats came out flat as pancakes, and were absolutely a dead-ass team in the first half, ironic since they usually play that way in the second half of games this year.

This week had drama in Foxboro. On the day of our first major snowstorm on Wednesday, four players were late. Instead of just being fined, they were sent home. Why? Because after the horrendous Miami loss of the week before, Belichick had explicitly exhorted the team to come in early and stay late, something that is the culture down there but could be slipping this year. Forty-nine other guys, including rookies, had made it in on time. Tom Brady’s wife Giselle had a baby boy less than 24 hours earlier and he was there on time. Adalius Thomas, one of the four sent home, talked to the press and was pretty insubordinate, so was benched today. Fans had hoped that the team would come out on fire. Instead, they tanked in the first half, scraping a TD to go into the locker room at the half at 7-7. Three turnovers were killers today.

They finally cranked it up in the second half, having a sharp drive, and eventually won the game 17-10, but they were dead-ass in part of the second half, too. Tom wasn’t sharp, suffering from an injured finger, shoulder, and rib (that may be cracked, but the Foxboro Kremlin will never say, heh heh), so he was struggling but still managed to pull out a win.

Wes Welker was fantastic, moving up into the NFL’s higher echelons with over 100 catches yet again this season (10 today), his third in a row. He was a bright spot in the offense, and so were Kevin Faulk, Lawrence Maroney, and Ben Watson.

Tough division game up in Buffalo next week. They’re only up by a game over the Jets and Dolphins, so they better not think they’ve got the division and the playoffs sewn up.

Notes On Rainbow's Freedom

2009-12-13T05:07:29Z

So, The Dark Knight Of The Soul Arc has been wrapped up, and the House Of Wayne is stronger than ever, having weathered a very dark time, indeed.

Clark and Bruce have learned new things about each other, and Dick and Alfred have shown their own mettle in the Days of Darkness. Brendan has drawn closer to the inner circle, and is a trusted member of the Family, too.

The Arrows came through with flying colors, and Steve and Hal weathered revelations of their own, and plan to help free Diana and the Amazons.

So what’s up in the next arc, The Jewel In The Crown?

The House Of Wayne travels off-world to a planet that treasures its pleasure slaves in ways that are different from Earth’s, and Clark and Bruce learn more about their Master/slave dynamic, in addition to their relationship as lovers.

There’s kink! And a definite lightening of the atmosphere after such a dark arc as we’ve just read. My kinks are pretty mild. No golden showers or other squicky stuff like that! And there will be warnings, but mostly, this arc is more about fun mixed in with the serious stuff. :)

As a supporting plot, Hal and Steve come up with a way to help Diana and the Amazons free themselves after centuries of slavery.

Rainbow’s Freedom is going on hiatus while I concentrate on holiday projects. The end of the year is approaching fast, and I need to get some writing and typing done! I hope you’ll enjoy the holiday stories in the meantime before the next arc begins.

Thanks to all who read and comment, because without you, I wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace on this project.

*hugs*

Happy Birthday!

2009-12-13T04:13:28Z

Happy Birthday,

Saavikam77!

May your day

Be as sweet

As you!

:)

Fic: Rainbow’s Freedom (The Dark Knight Of The Soul Arc) (38/38)

2009-12-13T02:53:28Z

Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (The Dark Knight Of The Soul Arc) (38/38)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce (Clark does not appear in this chapter), Jim Gordon, Kathy Kane, Lana Lang, Martha Kent, Elias Stark, Hal/Steve, Harold Allston, Carl Winslow
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. A Great Trial crashes down upon the House Of Wayne. Can Bruce and Clark’s relationship survive? Will the Family’s strength be enough to see them through this Time of Fear and Darkness? The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Drama, Slavefic
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Plans are made, some for justice, some for revenge.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): January 25, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 12, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 860
Feedback welcome and appreciated.

"Man and his plans…what would he do without them?"

Raj Nehru
"An Observer Of
The Human Condition"
2216 C.E.

XXXVIII

VENGEFUL JUSTICE

The screams echoed in the living room as Bruce shut off the TV.

Two very shaken women sat on the couch, a third in the overstuffed armchair. Jim Gordon sat in the other chair.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, but…”

“No, it’s okay, Bruce,” Kathy said softly.

“I stopped it after five minutes. You get the gist.”

Lana rocketed off her chair. “That sadistic bastard!” She was trembling with rage. “Those poor souls! My God, Bruce! We don’t even treat murderers and rapists like this! This…it’s utter insanity!”

“I know.”

Lana began pacing. “I’m going to show this fucking tape to the Congressional committee I’m on.”

“Some people would like what they see,” Jim said.

“No doubt, but there will be those as appalled as we are. If this tape doesn’t convince people of the need to have Slave Protection Laws, I don’t know what will.”

Martha looked parchment-white. “Are those people dead?”

“I would guess they are, Mrs. Kent,” said Jim. “We could check the Caldwell inventory, but the victims could have been purchased for torture only, and possibly from unscrupulous slave dealers who sell smuggled bondsmen. There would be no records in that case.” He sighed. “But even if they were legal purchases, we could do nothing. As you well know, a Master has utter dominion over a slave. They can torture and kill at will.”

Anger reflected in the women’s eyes. Lana stood stiffly, red wisps of hair trailing out of her ponytail.

“Commissioner,” she said. “Would you be willing to put your considerable influence behind a bill to enact sweeping Slave Protection Laws?”

“I’m not that influential, Senator…”

“Don’t be so modest, Commissioner. You are more influential than you know.”

“I would be happy to help, Senator. I’m tired of a system that ties my hands when it comes to justice.”

“It’s Lana, please, and understandable that you should be frustrated, Commissioner.”

“Jim, please.”

“A great alliance, then,” Bruce said.

“A productive one,” Lana added as she shook hands with Jim.

“We will stop these abominations.” Jim’s mouth was set in a hard line.

Everyone in the Kane living room nodded grimly.

& & & & & &

Elias Stark looked over the meeting minutes about the Kryptonian Hunt. Nothing spectacular, but still productive. A band had been discovered and wiped out just last week.

He sipped from his water glass, studying the computer screen.

Damn, he could have used Wayne’s input. Queen and Luthor hadn’t been able to make it, and a civilian could have added some needed perspective.

The little incident with Edmund Caldwell had mucked things up. So what if his whore had broken his arm? Couldn’t the slut suck it up?

Beyond his usual sucking.

Stark smirked.

It had been amusing to watch Wayne rail about breached security. He doubted they’d discover how Edmund got in.

After all, he hadn’t been a general for all these years and not know good infiltration tactics when he saw them.

Smiling, he returned to his reading.

& & & & & &

“Do you really think that Dr. Allston can come up with a substitute for the drugs the Govs are giving the Amazons?” Steve asked.

He and Hal were sitting in their living room. Hal carefully stretched, trying to keep improving.

“Bruce assured us he’s not only the best at what he does, but he’s an Aldebaran shellmouth of discretion.”

Steve settled back in his chair. “I wish we didn’t have to wait.”

“Dr. Allston says we can have the sub drug ready by the time we go on leave in September. Until then, we plan.”

Steve bit his lip. “I just hate to think of Diana suffering…” he rubbed between his eyes “…but after four centuries, what’s a few more months?”

& & & & & &

Harold studied the results of his latest tests. Soon he’d have the perfect fake drug to give to the majors.

Man, he was really getting involved in deep stuff here. Not only was he helping Bruce shield his Squire from the Hunt Decree against the Roma by supplying the masking agent to obscure the genetic evidence, he was helping to plot a major upheaval on Paradise Island against the Federal Government.

It was a good thing he liked living on the edge.

“Let me know when you’re through here, Doc, and I’ll straighten up.”

Harold looked up at the newly-hired lab tech. “Sure, Carl.”

The man nodded and closed the door.

& & & & & &

Carl Winslow smiled. It had been almost too easy getting a job here. He was very low-level, performing the most basic of tasks, but it beat cleaning houses for a living.

He didn’t mind flying under the radar. If he played his cards right, by the time he figured out a fitting revenge on the almighty Prince for getting him fired from Aaron Breck’s cleaning service*, he could strike swift and deadly. By now Wayne would have forgotten all about him.

Revenge would be sweet.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

*Chapter 3: Violation (Shadow Of The Bat Arc)

End Of The Dark Knight Of The Soul Arc

Next: The Jewel In The Crown Arc

Quick Reminder & 2010 Challenge Thoughts

2009-12-12T04:03:08Z

Just a quick reminder that all Challenges I’m hosting will end on either December 31, 2009 or January 1, 2010!

Some thoughts on 2010 Challenges:

Yes, I’m cooking up some new stuff! :) I’ll always host Valentine’s Day and Halloween Challenges as long as there’s a community here, but what about the others?

Well, I hadn’t intended to run a year-long Challenge next year, but an idea came to me that works perfectly for all year ‘round, so hopefully you’ll enjoy it!

As far as the others go, I have a few ideas running around, some possible quickies (maybe a month or two in posting length) or different themes. Then again, you may see similar themes again, depending on what I ultimately come up with.

So you can count on at least three Challenges in the DC fandom next year. :)

As for Public Enemies fandom, I’m considering a few ideas. I’ll probably host another Halloween Challenge, since it fits the fandom well, and it’s my favorite holiday, anyway. ;) As for the rest, I doubt there will be a continuous stream of Challenges, as we’re a much smaller fandom, but who knows? Now that the DVD is out, maybe guns_fedoras will get more members! :)

So keep your eye on this journal for some announcements at the end of the year!

"Kandor" (9.07) (November 8, 2009)

2009-12-11T19:32:14Z

"Kandor" (Season 9) (Episode7) (November 8, 2009)

Well, it’s been ages since this aired and I watched the tape (thanks to the lovely clarkscherry!), but I had some thoughts I wanted to share:

Three things stood out to be about this episode:

1) How Jor-El/Zod paralleled Clark/Lex.

2) The true Jor-El was finally revealed.

3) Clark held a father who died in his arms for the second time in his life.

The great friendship, the ‘stuff of legends’, between Jor-El and Zod, ended tragically, and now they are great enemies. It’s always sad to see great friends fall out with each other. And love turned to hate is the worst of all. Clark and Lex were truly Destiny, it seems.

Little wonder that Clark was wary of meeting Jor-El. All he had to go by was the AI of the Fortress. Which makes me think the programming was sabotaged before it left Krypton or was corrupted somehow. Jor-El/AI is too capricious, cruel, and interested in Clark taking over Earth for humanity’s own good. The Jor-El we saw in flashbacks and as the clone was the Jor-El of comics and ‘toonverse: good, kind, noble, and more like the kind of man Clark would descend from than the AI’s personality. Even though more of Jor-El’s true personality was coming out in the AI towards the end.

Did you heart break when Jor-El died in Clark’s arms? *sniffles*

I did like the scene in which Ollie told Clark he’d go to hell and back just to see his parents again. I’d say he and Bruce could commiserate on that. Ollie’s pain is understandable, just as Clark’s wariness is before he realizes Jor-El’s true nature.

And that’s doubly sad. He just learns to appreciate his father without the filter of the warped AI, and he loses him. My poor, poor Clark.

Poll: Should I Write Jason Todd?

2009-12-11T04:34:50Z

So, a plot bunny hit me in Jason's voice! Yowza! :) He's insisting upon being the POV observing the Bruce/Dick relationship, and I thought I'd post a fun poll about it. I probably won't be writing this until after New Year's because of the zillion holiday stories I still need to write, but fun is any time of year! ;)

View Poll: Should I Write Jason Todd?

Happy Birthday!

2009-12-11T03:33:01Z

Happy Birthday,

Lyraeinne!

May your day

Be a happy one!

:)

Fic: Johnny Angel (1/1)

2009-12-11T01:24:00Z

Title: Johnny Angel (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Mel/Carter, Mel/Johnny
Fandom: Public Enemies
Genres: Angst, AU, Challenge, Drama, Holiday, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: For the movie, natch. :)
Summary: Melvin Purvis grieves for one lover lost and one slipping away.
Date Of Completion: December 1, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 10, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1940
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: A Christmas gift for khylara. I couldn’t find anything angel-themed to suit you this year, darlin’, and got this plot bunny instead. I hope you enjoy this little offering.
Also written for my 2009 Guns_Fedoras Public Enemies Fic/Art Winter Holidays Challenge. :)
I couldn’t reference the film, It’s A Wonderful Life, as it came out in 1946, but I’m sure the folklore about angels and their wings was around before that. :)

When an angel
Gets his wings,
My heart sings.

ZuZu Petals
"Angels' Wings"
1926 C.E.

Mel walked through the stark white halls of St. Cecilia’s Hospital, snow falling outside the windows. Not surprising for Wisconsin in December.

He reached Room 106 and pushed open the door, balancing the pot of deep red poinsettias he was carrying. Tiny bells attached to the pot jingled softly.

A few other vases of flowers decorated the room, get well cards tacked to the corkboard on the wall opposite the bed, and a tabletop Christmas tree was set on the round table in front of the window. Right next to it was a menorah.

Mel carefully set the poinsettia pot on the nightstand, his gaze drawn to the man in the bed.

Carter Baum looked peaceful, as much as any man in a coma could.

Mel’s heart ached as he gently touched Carter’s chestnut hair. He pulled up a chair and began his vigil.

“Hello, Carter. It’s snowing out, not too bad, actually. The forecast is good, but it looks as if it’ll be a white Christmas. Hanukkah, too.”

Mel poured a glass of icewater from the pitcher on the nightstand. His throat was painfully dry. Hospitals were such arid places.

After his drink he continued, “At least the Bureau is taking good care of you. I used some of my trust fund to upgrade for you, too. A private room is better. If it was okay to move you, I’d bring you closer to me in Chicago, but maybe it’s fitting you’re here in Wisconsin, close to Little Bohemia.” The hand holding the glass shook slightly. “Nelson shot you up pretty badly, including that bullet off your temple. It’s been almost nine months.” His voice trembled. “I miss you.”

A nurse entered the room, nodding to Mel. The staff was used to seeing the agent at their comatose patient’s bedside. She took Carter’s vitals, wrote on the chart, and left.

“Things just aren’t the same at the Bureau without you. I…I haven’t felt right about things there for a long time, especially after the Biograph.” Mel rubbed the back of his stiff neck. “It was the damned hottest day on record for Chicago, 103 degrees, frying-eggs-on-the-sidewalk weather. I can’t blame Johnny for wanting to go to the movies in the refrigeration. I was thinking how miserably hot I was waiting outside.”

Mel knotted his fingers in his lap. “I should have warned him, Carter. I should have yelled something, alerted him. Instead, I just stood by while he was shot down like a dog in the street.” He took a pained breath. “I slept with him, Cater.”

Eyes haunted, Mel continued, “You saw what happened in Tucson. You saw what was going on when I saw Johnny in the flesh for the first time. God, I wanted to jump his bones in that jail cell! I could barely restrain myself, and I knew you knew. I know you assured me that it was all right, but I broke down, Carter. Johnny and I spent a week snowbound in a cabin in upper Wisconsin, and…” Guilt flared in Mel’s liquid-dark eyes. “I…I loved him, too, Carter. I don’t know, can you love two people at once?” He dashed away a tear.

Mel seemed to huddle in on himself, misery clinging to him like a cloak. He hugged himself, watching desperately for signs of Carter coming out of his coma, but of course he didn’t.

Mel rocked back-and-forth slightly, his voice raspy. “I was going to tell you, but then we had to run off to Little Bohemia, and then Nelson shot you, tried to butcher you, and you’ve been lost to me ever since…”

He fell silent, the snow muting traffic noises outside.

“I killed Nelson when he was escaping,” he whispered. “And I’d do it again.”

Mel wondered if it was possible to die of a broken heart…twice.

“I’m sorry, Carter. I’ve been hoping for you to come back to me, and ever since I lost Johnny, too…nothing’s the same. I can’t care about my work at the Bureau anymore, and I’m disturbed by what’s going on there. We’re no better than the gangsters we chase with our brutal interrogations and shoot-first, ask-questions-later policy.” His voice grew shaky. “I can still smell his blood on that hot July night, and yours on a cold March evening.” He lifted a trembling hand to wipe away tears. “I can’t believe Johnny’s gone, and now I’m losing you, too.”

Mel took hold of Carter’s hand and let his tears flow freely, finally resting his head on the bed in exhaustion, falling into a troubled sleep.

& & & & & &

Warm. Quiet. Peaceful.

He drifted, bobbing on waves as he felt contentment. No worries, no pain, no grief.

“Time to rise and shine, sugar.”

Carter frowned. The voice was familiar.

“C’mon, sweetness. Our Mel needs us.”

Carter struggled to open his eyes, finally succeeding. He squinted as a bright light backlit the figure standing in front of him. He lifted a hand to shade his eyes.

He saw the trademark smirk as the slender man stood there in a crisp white shirt and tan pants, tortoiseshell glasses pushed down his nose as he peered over the rims.

“John…Dillinger?”

“Always knew you were a smart cookie, Agent Baum.”

Carter frowned. “What is this place?” He looked around at the blue-white surroundings, cottony clouds drifting by. “The last I remember…” His eyes widened. “I was in a gunfight with your gang at…at Little Bohemia…and I was driving my car to cut off your gang and Baby Face Nelson…”

“Yeah, I know.” Johnny’s expression was regretful. “I’m sorry about that. I should have followed Walter Dietrich’s advice: never work with someone you don’t know. Nelson was too much of a loose cannon.”

“Was?”

“Yes. Our Mel killed him at Little Bohemia.”

Shocked, Carter tried to process that, then realized something else Johnny had said.

“Our Mel?”

Johnny nodded, chewing gum casually. He looked like he was leaning against something, his leg crooked and crossed over the other one, but there was nothing there.

“Yeah, looks like we got a little situation here.”

Carter looked around. “It’s all wispy cotton around here. What is this place?” A frightening thought seared through him. “Are we dead?”

Johnny’s smile was a bit wistful. “You’re not, no.”

Carter’s brown eyes blinked. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad. It’s interesting up here. And someday we’ll all end up here, anyway.”

“You’re quite the philosopher.”

Johnny grinned. “You’d be surprised how people have messed up the whole religion thing.”

Carter thought of what he had to deal with because of his Jewishness and nodded. “What happened?” He waved toward Johnny. “With you?”

“Your Bureau got me last summer. Just saw the latest Clark Gable film. Gangster picture.” Johnny was clearly amused.

“That’s unique.”

“As a matter of fact, you’re right.” Sadness entered Johnny’s eyes. “Our Mel blames himself for both of us.”

“He loves you,” Carter said softly.

“Yes.” Johnny looked a little guilty. “I love him, too.”

“Good.” At Johnny’s blink, Carter smiled. “Unrequited love isn’t fun.”

Johnny’s mouth quirked into a smile.

“So what happens now? If I’m not dead, what’s my next move?” A thought occurred to Carter. “Am I in a coma?”

“You get another kewpie doll. No wonder Mel is smitten with you.”

Carter chuckled. “I could say the same, Johnny.”

“Well, that’s right nice of you, Carter.” Johnny looked thoughtful. “Seems to me you’ve got to go back. I’ll help you. It’ll be a great way to get my wings.”

“Wings?”

Johnny winked. “It’s what angels wear, right?” His eyes twinkled. “Whenever you hear a bell ring, an angel gets his wings.”

Amused, Carter asked, “Isn’t that miscasting?”

Amber eyes sparkled. “You’re a sharp one, Carter. I like that. And that means you’re a good match for our Mel.” His smile faltered slightly. “I know you were there first…”

Carter put up his hand. “Mel’s got enough love to go around. And I can understand the attraction.”

Johnny’s smile grew confident again. “I can see what he sees in you.”

Carter’s smile was just as confident.

“Our Mel is wracking himself with guilt about us,” Johnny said softly.

Carter felt pain spear through him. “He’s always been too hard on himself.”

“He’s high-strung, like a champion thoroughbred.”

Carter chuckled. “Good description. Lean and long-legged with those long, elegant fingers that delight.”

“Yes, ‘long’ is a good description for our man.” They shared a grin, then Johnny said, “Come with me.”

Carter followed him through the mist, the clouds drifting around like wisps of cotton candy. He didn’t know how long they walked, but he supposed time didn’t matter much here.

Finally they stopped, Johnny turning to face Carter. “You have to make a choice, my friend. Go, or stay.”

“Stay here?”

“That’s right. Here there are no worries, no fears…no pain.”

“And all of that is waiting for me if I go back?”

“That’s right, but you also get Mel.”

“That really tips the scales.”

“Worth it, eh?” Johnny’s tone was wistful.

Carter understood the attraction of this man: cocky, insouciant…vulnerable.

“He is.” Carter smiled. “I’ll go.”

“Close your eyes, click your heels, and think of home.”

“What?”

“Sorry, inside joke. You never read L. Frank Baum? Any relation?” Johnny snickered. “Get ready.”

Carter took a deep breath, the mists rolling in, starting to obscure Johnny.

“Take care of him.”

The mists rolled across Johnny as he disappeared.

“I will.”

& & & & & &

“I should be able to stay for awhile, Carter. I’m still Hoover's Golden Boy, though my halo’s starting to tarnish.” Bitterness laced Mel’s voice. “Anyway, I still have enough juice to get time off. I need it.” His voice was tired. “I need you.”

Carter felt sore, every limb leaden as he fought to open his eyes. He heard water being poured into a glass and finally managed to open his eyes.

“Can I have some of that water, sweetheart?”

His vision was fuzzy but he could see the shock on Mel’s face.

“C…Carter?”

“That’s my name.” His throat hurt and his voice was rusty from disuse.

“Omigod!” Mel set aside the glass he’d almost dropped. He touched Carter’s face with a trembling hand. “Carter, love, how do you feel?”

“Like a truck hit me.” He licked his lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mel quickly poured more water in the glass and held it to Carter’s lips, lifting his head slightly. Carter drank gratefully. He felt as parched as the Sahara. “Are you still thirsty?”

“I’m fine.”

Mel put the glass on the nightstand. “Can you move?”

Cater tested his fingers and toes. “Yeah.”

Tears shone in Mel’s eyes. “Thank God!” He carefully hugged his lover.

They clung to each other, then Mel drew back. He caressed Carter’s face, drinking him in.

“I hoped…I prayed…that you’d return to me.”

“Knowing you were here waiting for me made all the difference.”

Mel blinked away tears. “I’d better get the nurse.”

He stood, his hand brushing against the bells on the poinsettia pot. The jingling sound was followed by Carter’s laughter, slightly raspy but music to Mel’s ears.

“What?” Mel asked with a smile.

“An angel just got his wings.”

Mel looked confused but was so happy to have Carter back that he squeezed his lover’s hand and went to get the nurse.

“Thanks.”

Carter heard the whisper in his ear.

“Same to you, Johnny Angel.”

Laughter echoed in the room as Carter closed his eyes with a smile, waiting for his Mel to return.

Fic: Family Traditions III: A Robin Gets His Wings!!! (Christmas Eve) (1/1)

2009-12-09T23:06:24Z

Title: Family Traditions III: A Robin Gets His Wings!!! (Christmas Eve) (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Wee!Dick, Alfred, Bruce
Genres: Challenge, Fluff, Holiday, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: G
Warnings: Sap Alert! ;)
Spoilers: None
Summary: It’s Dick’s first Christmas Eve at the Manor.
Date Of Completion: November 29, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 9, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 772
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for fictionalknight’s 2009 Wish List. She requested Wee!Dick on Christmas Eve. :) Also written for my 2009 DCU Fic/Art Glitter Winter Holidays Challenge: Prompts: Ornaments, Garlands, Glitter, Shining, Sparkle, Icicles/Tinsel and saavikam77’s 2009 DCU Free_For_All Winter Holidays Challenge. Prompts: No. 8: Family/Home and No. 11: Candy Canes/Cookies.
The entire series can be found here.

The tree’s glittering,
The fire’s crackling,
The snow’s falling…
A perfect Christmas Eve.

Sapphire Stagg
"O, Christmas Tree!"
2009 C.E.

Snow fell softly outside the Manor windows, the faint sounds of church bells ringing as the fire crackled in the living room hearth.

Dick sat cross-legged before the fire, gazing up at the giant Christmas tree. The ornaments and silver and gold garlands glittered in the firelight, reflected back by Dick’s shining eyes.

Alfred smiled at the picture the boy made. Dick reminded him of another small boy who had once believed in the magic of Christmas.

You’ve brought that back to that little boy who’s all grown up.

Bruce was suddenly next to Alfred, putting a hand on his old friend’s shoulder. Giving his shoulder a squeeze, Bruce entered the living room.

“You’ve been a good boy, Dick. Waiting to see what Santa brings you?”

Dick laughed, his eyes sparkling. “Isn’t he Clark’s neighbor?”

“Clark’s neighbor?”

“Yeah, up at the North Pole.”

Bruce laughed this time, ruffling Dick’s hair. “Come to think of it, I seem to remember that Clark mentioned that he’d seen Rudolph practicing his flying last week.”

Dick giggled.

“Christmas cookies, sirs,” said Alfred as he brought in a tray with the treats and glasses of buttermilk.

“Awesome!” Dick took a plate and several cookies and a glass, returning to his seat before the fireplace. He bit into the shortbread cookie with green icing and red sprinkles. “Mmm, you’re still the best, Alfred!”

“I should hope so.”

Dick grinned as he finished his cookie and started a second one.

Bruce sat in his favorite chair, Alfred in his, and there was bantering conversation as the family enjoyed Christmas Eve together, Dick teasing as he shook presents and crawled around the tree, inspecting each tag, a silver icicle catching in his hair as he returned to his spot in front of the tree.

“We always had Christmas Eve off,” Dick said softly as his eyes watched the dance of firelight on the tree, the Kryptonian crystal glowing like a flamejewel. “The whole circus would gather around a bonfire and eat chocolates and cookies and drink cider while singing and dancing, and then we’d all go back to our trailers and have our own little traditions. We always had a tree and Dad would read The Night Before Christmas and when I woke up the next morning, Santa had been there.” Dick’s eyes shimmered but he smiled, and Bruce blinked, discreetly wiping at his eyes. “Christmas Eve was always a time for magic.”

Dick looked back and smiled, and Alfred and Bruce smiled back.

“Every Christmas Eve, we would roast chestnuts and open one gift before the morning.” Alfred’s voice was fondly reminiscent. “Mother cooked a Christmas goose and always prepared the Christmas pudding with currants while Father made the eggnog. Nothing tasted quite as good as that pudding, I must say.”

Dick swiveled around to face Bruce and Alfred, his eyes rapt, the icicle glittering in his hair.

Bruce spoke softly. “We’d sit here in the living room, admiring the tree. I’d be sitting right where you are, Dick. We’d eat cookies and sing carols and I’d be so excited for Santa.” His voice quivered slightly but he continued. “The night seemed…magical. Like there were all kinds of possibilities.”

Dick smiled. “All kinds of possibilities,” he repeated. His hand brushed against a silver bell ornament, the tiny jingle melodic. “Does that mean an angel gets his wings?” Dick laughed.

Amused, Bruce answered, “I think Jimmy Stewart had it right.”

“That’s a nice notion, though, that a bell signals getting your wings. Very cool.”

The snow glittered as it fell outside the windows, matching the sparkle of the Christmas tree. Dick sighed happily.

& & & & & &

The clock chimed ten, Bruce rising from his chair and gathering a sleeping boy in his arms.

“The warmth of the fire and those good cookies of yours did him in.”

Alfred smiled serenely as he began to clean up. “I expect the excitement of his first Christmas here at the Manor contributed to his exhaustion.” Alfred’s voice softened. “This first Christmas without his parents could have been very difficult, but you helped make it special.”

Bruce’s chest tightened. He remembered his first Christmas without his parents. Without Alfred, he wouldn’t have survived it.

“So did you.”

Alfred smiled, then left the room with the dishes and glasses. Bruce turned, his elbow hitting the bell ornament that jingled merrily.

He laughed softly. “A Robin gets his wings.” He kissed Dick’s temple and brought him upstairs as the snow continued to fall.

Fic: Rainbow’s Freedom (The Dark Knight Of The Soul Arc) (37/38)

2009-12-09T02:45:06Z

Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (The Dark Knight Of The Soul Arc) (37/38)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. A Great Trial crashes down upon the House Of Wayne. Can Bruce and Clark’s relationship survive? Will the Family’s strength be enough to see them through this Time of Fear and Darkness? The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Drama, Slavefic
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: Brief mention of rape
Spoilers: None
Summary: After the latest incident with Edmund, Clark and Bruce reveal some truths to each other.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): January 23, 2009
Date Of Posting: December 8, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 831
Feedback welcome and appreciated.

"A slave’s good instincts will probably
save his emotional well-being, not to mention his life."

Dr. Hayley Quinzell
"Slave Psychology"
2246 C.E.

XXXVII

INSTINCTS

“How dare that old leche try and hurt you again! He’s insane, you know! Absolutely off-his-rocker! I’ll make sure he pays for what he did to you, Clark!”

Bruce had been ranting ever since they had arrived home from the hospital. Despite going to the hospital that the Wayne family had supported for years, Bruce had watched the emergency room physician like a hawk as he had set and fused the bones in Clark’s arm.

Clark was sitting on the bed, careful of his cast. He would have to wear it for a few days to protect the newly-fused bones.

“I won’t let Edmund terrorize you any longer! And I’ll keep Dick and Alfred safe from him, too. I’ve beefed up the security around here and I intend to make sure those kidnapping charges stick.”

“Bruce…”

“And I’m going to make sure that old man is branded a pariah! He’s insane! He shouldn’t be allowed to own slaves! Crazy old coot!”

“Bruce…”

“He’ll find he’s met his match in me. I swear he won’t hurt you ever again!”

“Bruce!”

Bruce stopped in mid-tirade. “What? Are you in pain? I knew I should have insisted on stronger meds…”

Clark grabbed his lover’s arm. “I’m fine.”

Bruce blinked, then sank down ruefully onto the bed. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed Clark’s good arm. “I…I just couldn’t believe it when Dick burst into my office, terrified and pleading with me to save you. He could have done it himself with his Robin training, but of course that was out of the question.”

“He’s a great kid.”

Bruce looked down. “He is.” He continued stroking Clark’s arm. “Clark, I’m so sorry.”

“None of this was your fault, Bruce.”

Bruce looked up and met Clark’s eyes. “I failed you.”

“Security let Edmund slip through…”

“I’m not talking about today.” Pain reflected in Bruce’s eyes. “I’m talking about the day you were kidnapped.”

“Bruce…”

“I won’t let you out of my sight, Clark.”

Clark smiled slightly. “That isn’t very practical.”

Bruce pushed the stubborn lock of hair back from Clark’s forehead. It always tried to loop into a curl.

“I can make it practical.”

“Ruling the world, huh?”

Bruce smiled slightly. “What good is being the Prince if you can’t shape the world the way you want?”

Clark laughed softly. “You do a good job if it.”

“Thank you,” Bruce said, allowing some smugness in his voice.

Clark squeezed his lover’s arm. “Please don’t feel so guilty.”

“Clark, he raped you.” Bruce nearly flinched at the word. “Though, of course, I’m guilty of the same.”

“No!” Clark shook his head vigorously. “I know technically, you could say that of all Masters and pleasure slaves, but I’ve been thinking about this lately.

“Bruce, I’ve never been afraid of you.”

Bruce tilted his head. Clark smiled at his puzzlement.

“I’ve felt safe with you from Day One. When I first came home to the Manor with you, I was a little nervous, of course, but it still felt safe. It was why I offered myself to you that first night.”

“That was the drugs and your training…” Bruce said, guilt in his eyes.

“No.” Clark took Bruce’s hands. “The drugs would have made me too woozy to think clearly, except for my instincts.”

Bruce tried to pull away. “Your training dictated you offer yourself.”

“That was part of it.” Clark’s grip was firm. “But I wanted to offer myself, Bruce.”

“Out of obligation.”

“No.” Clark squeezed Bruce’s hands. “Out of gratitude, and out of a sense that you’d never hurt me.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

“I have good instincts, Bruce. I knew you would never hurt me.”

“So slamming you into a wall didn’t hurt you?” Bruce said bitterly, thinking of a later incident.

“You were hurting and lost, trying to protect me. I never feared you hurting me in bed. I was only afraid of you sending me away.”

Bruce looked down at their clasped hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Please, Bruce.” Bruce met Clark’s eyes. “That’s over and done. I know you’d never hurt me.” His gaze was soft. “My first memories upon waking up in a new world to me were all harsh and humiliating and horrific, and then you took me in and I felt safe for the first time I could literally remember.”

Bruce swallowed. “I…”

“Bruce, why are you so hard on yourself? Do you know how happy you’ve made all of us? Haven’t you heard when Alfred hums in the kitchen, or when Dick laughs when he’s on the trapeze or playing in the garden?” Clark smiled his beautiful smile. “Or how I feel when I’m with you?”

Bruce blinked, then drew Clark into a fierce hug.

“How did I get so lucky getting you in my life?”

“I’m lucky, too, Bruce.”

Clark rubbed Bruce’s back, Bruce holding him tight.

Public Enemies Day!!! :)

2009-12-08T17:41:54Z

What’s today? It’s Public Enemies Day! :)

The DVD (also on Blu-Ray) is being released today! And I’m sure Netflix will have it available, too.

I stand by the review (spoilers) I wrote a day after seeing the film, and my recommendations (spoiler-free) which I’ll quote here because they are part of the review entry:

If you’re a Christian Bale fan, you will love him in the clothes. Sorry, he never gets out of them. ;) He has a supporting role so isn’t in the film as often as Johnny Depp, but he was in it more than I expected. The lighting does him justice, and especially highlights his beautiful eyes in certain scenes. Hands are very yummily noticeable, too, not to mention other, um, assets. ;)

If you want to enjoy his beauty, go, but if you don’t like understated performances, perhaps this movie is not for you, Christian fan or not.

The violence wasn’t as bad as I expected. In fact, it wasn’t much worse than you would see on a Law & Order episode. I’d bet that the final scene in the ‘67 flick Bonnie & Clyde was bloodier.

If you love period pieces, this is a good film. If you have no interest, then you probably won’t like it.

If you know about John Dillinger’s story or want to learn more, this is a film that I would recommend.

Also, if you like slash… ;)

And now on to the slash couple that is my favorite (though you can slash more!):

Spoiler-free pimping of beautiful men:

The pairing of John Dillinger and Melvin Purvis appeals to me because in many ways they’re star-crossed lovers, with tragedy lurking around them, but you also have the freedom to come up with ‘happily ever after’, and one giving up everything for the other. Usually it’s Mel, because it’s harder for Johnny to give up his life of crime to ‘go straight’ for his G-Man, but if anyone could do it, Johnny could! ;) Usually fics of this sort do involve Mel giving up everything: career, his life as he knew it, etc., all for love. The romantic in me finds this very appealing!

The two are only on-screen with dialogue for less than ten minutes, but what a scene! Filled with UST and suggestive dialogue. Don’t let some of the lines fool you. There has to be macho bono fides established, especially with Melvin’s men right there in the room, but the smiles and looks and body language…sizzle! ;)

They have two other scenes together but in one, they don’t even see each other but are in proximity, and the other they are in closer proximity but it’s not face-to-face. I don’t want to say more as it would get into spoiler territory.

What, how can a fandom be built around less than ten minutes of actual interaction? Well, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan from The Phantom Menace were together for less than a third of the film and thousands of stories have been written about them. I guess we Mel/Johnny fans can make something out of a sizzling scene. ;)

And there are other pairings available to fans: the canon het pairing of Johnny/Billie, and other slash pairings of Mel/Carter (another fellow agent), and Mel/Charles (Winstead, another agent and ex-Texas Ranger). This pairing has a mentor/apprentice feel to it as Winstead is at least ten years older than Mel and acted much like a mentor during the film. There’s even Mel/Hoover for the squick factor, LOL. Though I’m afraid it’s pretty much one-sided.

Hmm, seems like Melvin Purvis is gettin’ a lot of action! It’s always the quiet ones. ;)

Everyone’s tastes are different, and even if you do see this film you may think I’m nuts for loving it and may see no slash at all, but that’s cool. You may even think the scene I described as slashy isn’t at all. I have no problems with that! I just tells it like I sees it. ;)

As you may already know, I started guns_fedoras for everything creative about the film, so you might want to check out the stories there (though a lot will have spoilers). Just sayin’! ;)

Remembrance

2009-12-07T18:01:12Z

Remember

December 7, 1941

Wow! More Cookies! :)

2009-12-07T17:20:32Z

Thanks and hugs to neversince, lee_ashburn, and an anonymous friend, gifting me with more virtual snowflake cookies! Yum! :)

I added more names to yesterday's thank you post before I logged off because I am showered with snowflakes! :)

*bounces* :)

Week 13: Miami Dolphins 22, New England Patriots 21 (7-5) (Sunday, December 6, 2009)

2009-12-07T02:41:11Z

Week 13: Miami Dolphins 22, New England Patriots 21 (7-5) (Sunday, December 6, 2009)

*sighs*

What can I say? This team is an enigma. Good thing they were flexed out of the night game on NBC so they wouldn't embarrass themselves nationwide again!

They started out crisp, ready to put last week behind them, then once again fell apart in the second half. They missed opportunities, and Tom threw an terrible interception in the end zone! Momentum swung the Dolphins’ way, and the offense simply couldn’t get the job done. The defense played better than last week but were torched too many times.

This team is only one game ahead of Miami and the Jets now. The playoffs are no longer assured. Tom looked out-of-sorts all day, his finger swollen and bruised and his ribs aching from a series of shots he took. He was one of the reasons the Patriots lost. And the coaching decisions were dubious.

What the hell is going on?