Disclaimer: Basically, I don't own a single solitary thing in this story, besides the plot. *sighs* So don't even think about trying to slap me with a lawsuit, got that? Oh, well. I can always dream. Maybe I'll get the contract to own Justice League for Christmas… *runs over and starts frantically shaking presents under the tree*

A/N: Happy Holidays, everyone! I hope that this story gets you in the Christmas, Kwanzaa, or Hanukkah spirit, and that all of you have a wonderful holiday with your family gathered around you to celebrate. :D

Summary: The members of the Justice League celebrate Christmas Eve in different ways.

Note: This takes place sometime just after the episode "Destroyer". There are lots of spoilers, so read with caution. :D

Dinah Lance and Oliver Queen:

Black Canary sent her foot right into the thug's ugly face, knocking him flat onto his back with a dull thud. He grunted loudly as the air was forced from his lungs, as as his head smacked roughly against the concrete.

The heroine rubbed her forming black eye ruefully. "Just try that again, I dare you." She snatched the leather purse from his limp hand, and jogged back to the elderly woman standing back at the street corner. "Here you go, ma'am."

"Oh, thank you, sweetheart," the woman said gratefully, hand shaking as she took the purse back. "Thank you so much." Her voice wavered.

"Do you need me to make sure you get home okay, ma'am?" Dinah said.

The woman shook her head. "I can get home all right. I live just down the block." She raised a shaking finger towards a row of cheery houses across the street.

"All right, ma'am. Be careful getting home, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you again, young lady." The woman looked both ways on the street, then started hobbling away.

Dinah watched her go, then raced into the alley directly behind her. She placed both hands on a closed dumpster, using her own momentum to spring up to the roof of the building. She landed perfectly on her feet, showing her gymnastics training from when she was younger. Racing easily across the snow-covered rooftop, her boots sank deeply into the fluffy white stuff. The sidewalks and streets had been cleared earlier by snowplows, but up here there wasn't any such luck. She crouched down, one leg on the small ledge around the roof. She put on elbow on her thigh, and rested her face against her palm. Staring down at the city below, she intently watched for any other signs of crime.

Tiny flakes of snow started floating lightly down. They landed silently on the snow already coating everything. A few landed in Dinah's silky blonde hair, and one landed on her eyelashes. She blinked rapidly, getting it off before it could melt into her eye.

"Hey there, pretty bird. How's it goin'?"

"Ollie!" She spun around, ends of her hair flipping into her face. She smiled brightly when she saw the emerald-clad archer standing there. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just out patrolling, and saw a certain little bird perched up on the roof. I thought I might stop by and see how you were doing," Green Arrow answered, coming over and leaning casually against the ledge. He folded his arms across his chest, clouds of breath puffing in front of his face.

"Oh. You can stop by anytime you want to, but I'm busy at the moment." She smirked at him, and turned to face the street below again.

"What happened to your eye?" Oliver sounded concerned, a hard tone in his voice.

"Just had a little run-in with a mugger. He was all talk and no action." She carelessly waved aside the incident.

"He looked like he had some action to him," Green Arrow said wryly.

"Don't freak about it; I'm perfectly fine."

"Are you sure, Dinah?"

"Yes."

The infamous archer didn't say anything for a few minutes, and the only sound was their quiet breathing, traffic on the street below, and the soft swirling of the winter wind.

"What's wrong?" She turned to look at him, and see what was causing his sudden silence.

Ollie was staring at her with a strange expression on his face, seeming slightly dazed. He leaned slowly towards her, closing his eyes behind the eye covers of his mask. She leaned to meet him, and their lips met. They both felt the spark that formed between them, and wrapped their arms around each other. They kissed almost urgently until they had to come up for air, gasping loudly. Their breathing was ragged.

"That was…amazing," Dinah gasped out, running a hand through her tousled hair.

"I know. I-I think I love you, Dinah," he murmured passionately, moving his arms to her waist. He hugged her tight to his body, running one hand up and down the frozen skin of her right arm.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, still breathless.

On the street, someone let out a piercing scream. "Let go of me, you freak! Let go!"

"Crime never stops," Green Arrow said reluctantly, pulling gently away from her.

"Crime never stops," Black Canary agreed with a snirk. She leaped agilely over the side of the building, aiming for the metal trashcan. Ollie fired an arrow and slid down the trailing rope to follow her to the ground.

Lois Lane and Clark Kent:

Lois Lane was hard at work on her story of Lex Luthor's astonishing disappearance with Darkseid. It had been three months now, and there was still no sign that either were ever coming back. Not her choice on a fun way to spend Christmas Eve, but Perry had insisted on the follow-up article for tomorrow's special edition. The only sound on the whole dark floor was her frantic typing. The only light was from her small desk lamp and the glow from her computer screen.

It's been just over three months since the infamous Lex Luthor aided the Justice League in stopping the resurrected Darkseid from turning Metropolis into his second Apokolips. There have been no signs of any activity from the duo, and several important figures in our city believe that they are gone for good. They wish to remain anonymous. Lois tapped her fingers lightly on the keys without pressing down on them, trying to guess what to write next. Perry wanted the article to be at least four paragraphs, but she's already said just about all there was to say.

"You busy, Lois?" came a deep voice from behind her.

She gasped, spinning her chair around. "Superman! What are you doing here?" She barely refrained from calling him by her little nickname for his alter ego, Smallville, just in case she was wrong and there was someone else around.

"I thought that you might want to go to dinner with a handsome coworker," he said, red cape fluttering gently in the wind coming from the open window behind him.

"I…I can't," Lois peered over her shoulder, making sure there really was no one was around to overhear them. "You know Perry, Clark. He has to have to story in time for tomorrow's issue."

"There'll be plenty of time tomorrow morning to finish this, right? And I might know another reporter who could give you a hand." The Man of Steel looked a little pleading. "I promised Ma and Pa that you would come, Lois. You don't want to disappoint them, do you?"

She sighed, brushing a strand of thick black hair from her eyes. "Okay, you win." There was no way to say no to the love of her life. "You know how much I love your hometown, Smallville," she added sarcastically. She was one who enjoyed the bigger cities better than the little towns, though that didn't stop her from occasionally dropping by for dinner at the Kent farm. She stood, slipping her feet into her violet-colored flats, and switched off her desk lamp. She padded then over to him.

"Ready?" He let her wrap her arms around his neck, and Superman lifted off from the floor. He flew easily out the window, clutching Lois against his powerful and muscled chest. They flew over Metropolis, lights of all the buildings and cars illuminating the city. Tiny snowflakes pelted against their skin.

"It's beautiful," Lois breathed.

"I know. You are," the all-star reporter said romantically.

"That's such an overused line, Smallville. Can't you be more original?" she said, trying to cover her breathlessness over hearing him say it.

It didn't take very long for them to reach the Kent farm, as they avoided all the holiday traffic by flying. The snow was much deeper out here in the countryside of Smallville, almost knee-deep. The mailbox was practically buried.

Clark flew towards the red-painted barn, protecting Lois from the sharp wind with his cape. He opened the door, and landed inside the warmth. A few horses nickered, looking curiously over the tops of their stall doors.

"Gee, I didn't know your family ate in the barn, Clark," Lois said, planting her hands on her hips. She shivered a little, freezing to death in her miniskirt.

"Just a side trip. Wait here, okay?" The Man of Steel flew up to the second floor of the barn, and disappeared from view.

Lois tapped her foot semi-impatiently, glancing around the barn. It was a lot warmer in here than outside, and hay was heaped everywhere. The horses neighed loudly, demanding a scratch or two.

"Ready?" Clark was suddenly beside her, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans. He gave her his usual Boy Scout grin.

"You really clean up nice, Smallville." She wrapped her arms her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek. She inhaled deeply, basking in his scent, which was leather and hay. Totally farm boy-ish.

"Let's head in now, Lois." He smirked down at her, then lifted her back into his arms. She blinked, and they were inside the Kent kitchen. The door closed behind them, and Clark called out, "Ma, we're home!"

"Oh, you two are just in time. We were almost ready to sit down and eat." Martha Kent didn't seemed fazed by her adopted son'd sudden appearance as she lifted a turkey out of the oven, setting it onto the table. The said table was already covered with delicious food, and steam was floating from the hot dishes.

"Can I help you in any way, Mrs. Kent?" Lois said politely. Please say no, please say no. She wasn't really at home with being in the kitchen. She usually got take-out or pre-made TV dinners to warm up in the microwave. Whenever she attempted something to do with cooking, it usually didn't go so well.

"No, that's all right, Lois. I'm done now." Martha pulled off her oven mitts, a cheery expression on her face. She plopped the mitts down on the counter beside the stove, switching off the heat. "Jonathon! Krypto!" she called out the door into the rest of the house.

A white blur streaked into the kitchen, nearly knocking Lois off her feet. Krypto panted excitedly, tongue lolling out, as he bounced around the room. His tail was practically wagging itself right off.

"Here you go, boy." Martha pulled a miniature version of the turkey that the rest of them were having out of the microwave. She dropped it into the silver dog bowl beside the table.

Jonathon Kent came strolling lazily in, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He greeted Lois, then took his place at the head of the table. Martha sat beside him, and Clark and Lois sat together.

"Everyone ready to eat?" Martha said.

"Sure am, Ma," Clark agreed. He sighed when she turned away, expression falling slightly. The only thing that was missing from tonight was Kara. Wherever you are out there, Kara, merry Christmas, he thought somewhat sadly.

"Then let's eat," Jonathon prompted, standing. He raised the big butcher knife and started slicing into the turkey. Thick slices of meat fell richly off the main body, landing in layers. It looked very rich and juicy.

"I love you, Smallville." Lois smiled over at him, leaning over to put her head on his shoulder.

"I love you, too, Lois."

Krypto barked sharply, raising his nose until it rested on the edge of the table. He focused his eyes on the turkey in the middle of the table, drooling profusely.

"Want a leg, Clark?" Jonathon asked cheerfully. It was a tradition for the Kryptonian to always get a turkey leg along with the rest of his food at family get-togethers. He had ever since he was younger.

"What? Oh, um…okay, Pa." He pushed his chair back, the wood scraping against the floor. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going, Clark?" Martha sounded concerned.

"Next time, go to the bathroom before we leave, Smallville," Lois advised, smirking.

"Be right back." Clark hurried out of the kitchen and out to the barn. He rummaged around for a sheet of construction paper inside a drawer in the barn, and found a rusting pen. He scribbled something on it, then got out a metal box from the second floor. Folding the paper inside the box, he went back outside, making sure to activate the Kryptonian signal device on the lid, punching in a certain amount of time.

Clark flew up straight into the air, then soared back down, fists in front of him. He flew back up again, leaving the box buried, then kicked snow back over it effortlessly. He bit his lip, staring at the mound of snow and hoping his plan would work, then went back inside to join his family and Lois.

Kara Kent:

Kara Kent sat on the floor of the balcony attached to the downtown apartment she shared with Brainy 5. Her legs were pulled up to her ches, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She sighed heavily, depressing thoughts weighing against her mind. I wish I was home with Ma, Pa, and Clark, she thought. Heck, I'd even take Krypto, that annoying little pup.

Here in the 31st century, no one even celebrated Christmas anymore. It was a forgotten holiday, told of in stories about long ago times. And most books didn't even tell the story right. None of the authors had been around in the time of Christmas, and had no clue what it had been like. Brainy had offered to celebrate the holiday with her and a few of the other members of the Legion, but she had gently refused. She didn't want to make him celebrate Christmas, when the holiday meant nothing to him. It would have been useless.

"Hey, Kara?" Brainy called, voice drifting outside to her sensitive ears. "I'm going over to the Legion Headquarters, all right? Bouncing Boy thinks that The Kacklepopdon has come back from the dead."

Superman's cousin snorted. That dude had been 'killed' and turned out to be alive at least twenty times. And that number only in the few months that she had been here in the future. "Good luck, Brainy. See you when you get back!" she answered in phony cheerfulness.

"Are you sure that you are all right?" She heard the rustling of curtains as Brainy came to look down at her. "Do you want me to stay…?"

"Nope," she said, and her lips popped on the 'p'. "I'm good. Really. Go ahead and kick Kackle's butt for the millionth time. At least battles with him are never boring, huh?"

"All right." Brainy didn't really sound convinced that he should leave her here alone. "Page me on my comm. link if you need anything."

"Comm. link. Got it."

Brainy's icy lips brushed against her cheek, and she suppressed a shiver. He awkwardly patted her head (he still had trouble showing his emotions, even after all this time), then disappeared back into the house. Moments later, the door slammed.

Kara sunk back into her thoughts. Ma and Pa were probably sitting down to eat around now. Clark was probably there, too, wishing again this year that he'd had the courage to invite Lois. Or did she know his secret by now? Clark would try to peek at presents after dinner, and be foiled by the lead wrapping paper. Krypto would be going crazy trying to find his own present of rawhide bones, smelling them from wherever he was in the house.

And if she were there, not here in the future with Brainy, she'd be helping Ma make cookies, and trying to sneak licks of the bowl. Ma would pretend to scold her, but let her get away with it. And when she wasn't looking Kara, would stick her finger in the bowl then lick it herself.

Supergirl sighed at the thought. Not that she had decided that she was unhappy in the future; Brainy was an amazing boyfriend. There was even talk of marriage between the two of them someday. She just missed her family, celebrating the holidays with them. She even sort of missed the Justice League.

Unexpectedly, a loud beeping assaulted her ears. She leapt to her feet, denim skirt billowing around her slim legs. She frowned, homing in on the signal. What was that thing? It sounded…Kryptonian? Surely not. What would something Kryptonian be doing here in the 31st century? All the artifacts had long since rusted away.

She soared away from the balcony, ignoring the cries of, "It's Supergirl! "Look, it's the girlfriend of Brainiac Five!" from below her. She was used to it by now.

She followed the sound all the way to the edge of New Metropolis, and way out into the country. This was the country where Smallville had been so many gazillions of years ago. This part of Kansania wasn't used much anymore, only by tourists who wanted to live it wild for a few days instead of staying in a posh hotel.

She thought what a coincidence it was that she was being led out near her old home, right when she had been thinking of it, still following the high-pitched beeping. It was much louder now. She stopped when the sound became unbearable, roaring in her ears.

She landed softly on the pure white snow, feet making hardly any sound. She shuddered as some touched her exposed toes at the end of her flip-flop platforms. They were very retro in this time period, but she loved them.

Kara tilted her head to one side, listening. She took a deep breath, then turned her body into a blur of red and denim, like a giant drill. She shoved her feet down into the snow, digging towards the signal. Her feet hit something metal, and she barely stopped herself from crushing it. She bent over and scooped it up into her arms, then flew to the surface of the snow bank.

The box was ancient; who knew how old it was. It was covered with rust and mold, and time had eaten away at it. The Kryptonian 'S' symbol was carved, barely visible, on the lid. All the bright colors had long since faded. It was pretty light in her hands. "What the heck is this?" she wondered aloud, pulling at the lock. It crumbled to dust in her fingers, and she gasped. Raising her eyebrows with mounting curiosity, she carefully raised the lid. Inside was a yellowed sheet of paper that was barely even still solid. It was almost dust by now. How old was this thing, anyway?

Curiosity getting the best of her, Kara reached in and picked up the paper. She was very careful to hold it delicately. She unfolded it, then scanned the square-ish writing rolling across the page. It was barely readable, faded almost beyond recognition.

Dear Kara, it read. Her eyebrows went up with surprise, blue eyes becoming huge. Why hadn't she recognized Clark's writing before? It's Christmas Eve here in Smallville, and I've been thinking of you. I hope that you get this letter. J'onn has been talking over the possibilities of leaving something here in the past for you to discover there in the future, but I don't know if it will work or not. It depends on if the materials I use survive. I miss you so much, Kara. So do Ma and Pa, though they pretend not to. I wanted to tell you that I'm not angry with you for staying in the future. I figured out from Ollie's and John's vague explanations that you're staying with a relative of Brainiac. I hope that you are well and happy. I just wanted to tell you that I miss you, and to have a good Christmas Eve. I love you, Clark.

Kara's eyes filled with unshed tears, and she carefully placed the letter back into the box. She closed it, tucked it under her arm, and flew back towards New Metropolis. Her day was already much better. Christmas was about family, and she loved hers.

And they loved her.

Wally West and Linda Park:

A blur of green and denim streaked into the alley beside Central City's news station, stopping in a small cloud of dust. A newspaper swirled past along with the dust, and the figure brushed himself off. Wally West strode casually from the alley, through the door of the news station. He was carefully holding a single red rose.

He went over to the elevator, glancing around at the people rushing past. Climbing into the elevator, he pressed the button for the tenth floor, and it jerked into motion, chugging sluggishly towards the selected floor. On the way, Wally rehearsed lines in his head.

So, Linda, want to go out tonight? You're busy? Oh, we can go whenever you want to…No, I didn't get us tables at an expensive table to celebrate Christmas Eve; I'm only on a forensic scientist/college student salary. I was thinking more along the lines of a picnic or something. In this cold? Oh, we don't have to if you don't want to…

Wally sighed. Even in his imaginings he sounded nervous and totally lame. He had been dating the reporter for over a month now, and got chills whenever he saw her, either on the news or in person. Usually, he was perfectly at ease with girls. But around Linda…it wasn't so simple.

He glared at the rose he was holding. I still don't know why she wants to go out with me, he thought, depressed. I'm sure that guy she works with, Richard Hanson, could take her out to dinner every night of the week if he wanted to. Could probably afford more than one rose for her; probably nine whole bouquets. Pretty boy smile, Italian leather shoes…

He continued grumbling mentally as the elevator dinged, reaching the tenth floor, and he stepped out. He looked around, watching people bustle past. None of them were saying anything, and he realized that the evening news segment was being recorded.

Grinning as he saw Linda sitting behind the desk talking to the camera, he walked over to stand by the doughnut table. His grin faltered when he saw Richard Hanson sitting beside her, chuckling as if she'd told an especially hilarious joke. It was more than obvious that he had some kind of feelings for her. But then again, who wouldn't? Linda was beautiful, funny, and smart. She was perfect.

Wally glowered, suddenly feeling very underdressed in the jeans, sneakers, and pressed green jacket he had carefully picked out from his limited wardrobe. This Richard dude was wearing a black suit with a flower pinned to the lapel, and looked nearly as perfect as Linda did. He quickly ate seven doughnuts in a blur of movement to calm himself down.

"…and that's all for the eight o'clock news this evening, everyone. Have a happy holiday, and enjoy the next program, Candy and Laughs with Joy Tanners. Good night. I'm Linda Park…"

"And I'm Richard Hanson. Buh-bye, everyone, and merry early Christmas!" the other reporter said in a sugarcoated voice. He smiled brightly at the camera while the cameraman counted down silently with his fingers from five.

Wally sighed. Richard could star in a toothpaste commercial, his teeth were so white. But why was he susprised? This guy was perfect at everything, and he really…wasn't.

"And you're off," the cameraman said. "Good job, you two."

Richard and Linda stood, and Linda looked over towards Wally. A genuine smile lit up her face, and she seemed to be as glad to see him as she always was. "Bye, Richard," she said, walking over to her boyfriend. She was gorgeous, in a black velvet skirt and dark red shirt.

"Hi, Linda," Wally said, winking at her. He covered up his insecurities easily. "I brought this for you." He held up the rose, which he was pleased to note matched her shirt perfectly. Women always seemed to care about those kinds of things.

"Oh, thanks, Wally." Linda took the rose and kissed his cheek. "You're so sweet."

"Glad you like it." He blinked, trying to cover up the slight blush he could feel warming his face.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had night classes today."

"They got canceled, on account of the snow storm coming in from Gotham," Wally said. "I was hoping…that…you would want…to go out. I thought we could…do something," he said weakly. Man, that was even worse than when I rehearsed it, he thought with disappointment. I bet Richard could do better.

"Sure," she said warmly, smelling her flower delicately. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I thought that we could have, you know, a picnic."

"A picnic?" Her voice rose a little in surprise.

"Well, yeah. If you don't want to-"

"No, Wally. That sounds great. Let me just get my coat." She hurried away from him to the coat rack, and grabbed her fur jacket. She slipped it on, then added her matching gloves. Still holding her rose, she came back. "Where to?"

"I was thinking we could go to the observatory. Maybe look at the stars through the glass roof while we eat? I kind of already set everything up, just in case you said yes."

"That sounds amazing. I can't wait."

They got into the elevator, and rode down to the ground floor. Linda chattered easily about her day at the station on the way down, and Wally didn't have to act interested. He always wanted to know what his girlfriend had been doing.

"So, what did you do today?" she finally asked, as the elevator doors clanged open.

"Well...I, um…worked at the lab," he said uneasily. Sure, he had worked there for about ten minutes, but he couldn't tell her what he had done for the majority of the day. It had involved red spandex and talking gorillas trying to take over the world yet again.

"That sounds fun," she encouraged.

"Yeah, I guess so." He paused to open the door for her.

"Linda! Wait one moment, please!" Who else but Richard Hanson came jogging over, pulling on a black leather coat over his suit.

Wally thought some unsightly things in his head, blue-green eyes narrowing slightly.

"What is it, Richard?"

"The rest of the station is going out to dinner in a couple of minutes. We're going to the Red Herring, over on 32nd Street. I was going to invite you to come along. Believe me, you won't want to miss it."

Wally stared incredulously, and felt his mouth drop open a little. I don't believe this guy! he thought angrily.

Linda turned her head towards the disguised speedster, rolling her eyes where her coworker wouldn't see. "I'm sorry, Richard, but I'm going out with my boyfriend. Maybe some other time." She put her arm through Wally's and walked out into the cold night.

"You'll be sorry! It's going to be a blast!" he yelled after them.

A man stood on the street corner with a red bucket, ringing a little bell. The sign proclaimed that it was for a children's cancer fund. Wally pulled out his wallet and dropped a few bills into the bucket, and the man nodded his thanks, pulling his coat tighter around himself.

"Why did you do that? Say no, I mean. You could have gone along," Wally said as they walked away. "I know you like that place that he said they were going to."

"Because I'm going out with you," she said by way of explanation.

"But why would you turn down a chance with a guy like Mr. Look-at-Me-Toothpaste-Commercial to go out with me? I can't take you to the Red Herring, because I'm a working, underpaid college student," he confessed, staring at his shoes. "Richard would probably be much better for you." Oh, crap. Did I just say that out loud?

Linda gasped with shock. "Wally, where is this coming from?" she demanded, pushing him under the striped awning of the store they were passing. She shook melting snow out her hair.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I don't know…I just can figure out why you would go out with someone like me, when there are better guys out there for you."

A dark scowl covered Linda's face. "Wally West, how could you say something like that? I love you, not Richard! Don't you dare think otherwise!"

Wally was a little taken aback. "Really?" he asked, voice coming out in a slight squeak.

"Yes, and get that through your thick head, okay? I will never love another man, only you! Got that?"

"Um…yeah." He was still a little shocked by her outburst.

Linda looked out at the heavier flakes of snow that were coming down, then up at the awning. "Oh, look at that," she murmured.

Wally looked where she was looking, and saw a little sprig of mistletoe hanging from the plastic. They were standing right under it. He looked back at Linda, swallowing hard.

"Kiss me, Wally."

He leaned forward, carefully putting his lips to hers. She threw her arms around his neck, and they kissed passionately under the awning. Snow drifted down romantically above and around the little plastic roof.

"Now how about that picnic?" he asked huskily, finally pulling away from her.

"Sounds great."

Hand and hand, they walked out into the falling snow and towards the Central City observatory.

Vic Sage and Helena Bertinelli:

The Question was in his apartment, sweaty hair a mess and fedora on his desk chair. He was staring intently at a large board hung on his wall, covered with torn pages and various clues. "No, I was wrong," he muttered under his breath. "The flea collars don't lead to the whiteness that dogs get when they're older. They are the signals for the lost tribe of Plutonians to beam messages to CADMUS. Everything keeps going back to CADMUS."

He frowned beneath his mask, moving a photo of a golden retriever wearing a flea collar to the picture of the planet Pluto. He unattached the string trailing along the CADMUS clues and moved it over across Pluto to the dog photo.

The doorknob on his front door rattled, and he ignored the sound. A few seconds later, a red boot kicked the door wide open. It bounced loudly off the wall behind it, causing a picture to fall to the floor, the glass shattering loudly. "Baby doll, what are you doing? We were supposed to go out tonight, remember?" Huntress complained. She had ditched her usual purple and black outfit for a red dress and red leather boots. A black jacket was draped across her shoulders, and she held some kind of plant. It highly resembled a bloodsucking fern from Nevada.

"I'm busy with my project, Helena," Vic muttered distractedly. "The Conspiracy has taken a very surprising turn. Did you know that-"

"Sorry, but I'm not really interested in that mumbo-jumbo junk right now," Helena interrupted with mild annoyance. "We're going out to Christmas Eve dinner tonight, and that's that, Charles Victor Sage." She plunked the plant down on a crowded surface, sweeping a few scrawly papers into the floor.

The plant actually turned out to be a scraggly, potted Christmas tree, about three feet tall. It had a tinfoil star on the top branch, and two ornaments dangling from the scrawny branches. It was already bowling over from the weight of them.

"Thank you." He moved one hand to arrange a scrap of paper on his Conspiracy board, hoping that she wouldn't notice.

"You're welcome. Now stop stalling."

"But, Helena. The flea collars are signaling devices-"

"I know, I know. Whatever. Just change out of that thing and let's get going."

Vic threw one last look at his expanding board of Conspiracy, then at the tiny tree, and walked back towards his bedroom. He tripped over the various clutter around the room on his way, as he never had time to pick anything up. The League and the unraveling Conspiracy took up all his time. Also Helena, of course.

"You really should ditch the conspiracies, Vic!" the ex-League member called to him, bending to pick up an empty pizza box. She held it with the very tips of her fingers and dropped it into the trashcan. True, she loved him even though everyone else thought he was crazy, but she still tried her best to make him give this stuff up.

"Conspiracy!" he corrected, voice slightly muffled through the wall. "There is only one! Everything is connected!"

"Sure, sure, baby doll." She'd heard it all before. That was the usual beginning of his favorite speech. "Just change out of those clothes and hurry up!" She tapped her foot against the tile impatiently.

"This better?" Vic came out of the bedroom in black dress pants and a blue button-down shirt. He tugged at the yellow tie fastened around his neck with one finger, acting as though it were choking him to death. He also still wore his faceless mask.

Helena rolled her eyes. He never had to worry about mismatching his colors. He always wore blue and yellow, and occasionally a little black or gray. She reached over to help him fix his tie. "Aren't you going to take that thing off?" She was referring to his current faceless condition.

"I can't. The cell phone cameras are being monitored by secret government officials. They are watching and waiting for me to come out maskless so they can know my secret identity. I am wanted in many small Central American countries for crimes of finding out the truth that they don't want anyone to know." He grabbed his blue trench coat and pulled it on.

"Don't give me that."

"Quickly, where are we going?" Question hurried over and glanced out the door of his apartment. "We must be careful to watch for mustard bombs being dropped from the rooftop. They are quite deadly."

"Yeah, because a carnivoric person might mistake you for a hot dog, right?" she said sarcastically.

"No. That's completely far-fetched." He opened the door and they stepped outside under the roof of the building.

"Right."

"Where are you going to eat, Helena? Not a fast food restaurant like Sonic, I hope. They do not allow anyone inside because they have top-secret weaponry hidden among the food. And have you ever noticed that no one who goes in comes out alive? They come out as annoyed zombies with plastic smiles. They are being controlled!"

Helena sighed deeply. "No, I don't want to go to Sonic, Q. Let's go to Matronni's or Papa Peia's, okay? I'm in the mood for Italian."

"Inside the word 'papa' lies a hidden code for spies against our country."

"Oh. Huh. Let's go." She grabbed at his arm to pull him out from under the roof and towards her motorcycle.

"Helena, no!" He grabbed her and pulled her back inside.

"What is it this time?"

"Look at the snowflakes! If you stare hard enough, you can see the blinking red lights of camera transmitters inside them!"

"Oh, yeah. I see them, all right." She sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward. "So if you don't want to go out in it, what do you want to do?"

"We have to stand here until the snow is completely dissolved by the radio transmitters being used right now by the CIA."

"Oh." She smirked slyly at him. Turning to face him, she reached up towards his face. She ran the back of her hand along the side of the mask, and he shivered a little.

"Coat pocket."

Helena reached into the pocket and pulled out the little bottle. She sprayed it across his faceless mask, and then replaced it. His hair slowly turned from a dark black-brown to a light red. She moved her arms back to his face, and felt gently until she felt the faint lines where his mask ended. She carefully pulled it away with the tips of her fingernails.

Vic's real face was revealed, red hair sticking up and green eyes half-closed. "The cold of winter burns you secretly over the years until your face has been completely eaten away. You wake up one morning to find your face gone."

"I love you, Victor Sage," she murmured, leaning towards him.

"And I believe that the rapid beating of my heart indicates that I feel the same way about you. Either that or the disease that eating gummy worms produces has finally caught up with me."

"Stop that!" she complained.

"I was joking." Vic's mouth turned up in a little smirk.

"Oh." Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well, okay. That's a change."

"I thought so."

"Shut up and kiss me already." She pressed her lips against his. Outside, the so-called camera transmitters kept floating down lightly to earth.

Kent Nelson and Inza Nelson:

Dr. Fate was in his study after returning from some important business with the Justice League. He levitated before his marble and gold desk, a very thick book on his lap. It was nearly a thousand years old, and very crumby and yellowed. It was full of spells and legends.

Since today was Christmas Eve, there was much magic circulating in the air. This and Halloween were the two times each year that he was the busiest. He had to work quite hard to keep the two scales of magic and sorcery from overbalancing, tipping them away from good favor.

He raised his hands above the book, eyes still scanning the language scrawled across the ancient pages of the spell book. His gloves pulsed with a strange pink energy, the color of his magic. "Quazlan, meca, seestope, noenon…" he muttered mysteriously, energy level slowly building.

"Kent?" Inza appeared in the doorway, a pink cross portal appearing behind her as a way of transportation. It vanished in a flash of light, and only she remained. She looked rather nervous, white hands clasped tightly before her.

"Yes, Inza?" Kent looked up from the book, frowning behind his bell-like helmet. "Is something wrong? I sense that you are not yourself."

"Can we speak a moment?"

"I am quite busy. I am trying to conjure a spell that will repel the magic that the nomads are planning in the Quaztopian plain."

"This is important, I am afraid." Inza's voice was a tone higher with something like worry.

The pink energy vanished from Kent's hands, and he landed easily on his feet. He closed the book, placing it on his desk. "Yes, Inza?" He did not show emotions very well, but he was worried. His wife seemed afraid to speak to him. Something must be gravely wrong. Was it her? Was she sick?

"Take off your helmet. I would like to see your face, Kent," she told him.

Rather reluctantly, he removed his helmet. He hardly ever took it off, usually busy with some sort of magic. He felt more at home inside it than with a bare head. "Yes, my love?" he asked carefully.

She stepped closer, running a hand through his dark brown hair. Her lips curved into a small smile.

"What is it?" He was becoming more and more worried. Inza was not acting like herself right now.

"I have some good news, Kent." She hesitated. "I'm...pregnant."

His mouth dropped open in shock. "Pregnant? You are going to give birth to a child?"

"Yes." She waited for his reaction.

He surprised her by sweeping her up tightly into his arms. He hugged her close, kissing the top of her hair. "Pregnant," he said again, almost to himself. "I must prepare a spell of preparation for the child when it is born. It will need to be sprinkled in magic dust so that it will have our sorcery and magic…"

Inza smiled as she listened to his murmurings. She knew that the unborn baby was a girl; she had already used magic to find out. She placed one hand over her stomach. "I want to name her Sevgi, which means 'love' in Turkish."

"Yes. Sevgi is the perfect name." Dr. Fate stepped back from her, feeling that he was overflowing with joy, and said, "I will go and find the perfect spell dust. I will return shortly." He vanished, sucked into a pink cross portal.

She walked over to the window of their tower, which was invisible from the outside. If you were simply standing there and looking up, you would not see it. She stared down at the softly falling snow. "Sevgi," she said soothingly to her soon-to-be-born daughter.

John Stewart and Mari McCabe:

"This place is great, Boo." Mari, known as Vixen in the Justice League, sat across from John in the middle table of the restaurant. She was wearing a very low-cut dress made of millions of tiny gold sequins, and her silver heels were about four inches high. She had plastered on lots of makeup, giving her face a slightly plastic look.

"I guess." John took a drink of his coke, frowning at the delicate wine glass that held it. He had wanted to stay in and have a little dinner in the dining room of his apartment. Start a fire in the fireplace, hang some romantic mistletoe, and maybe watch a Christmas movie afterwards. They could even put up a tree and decorate it.

Instead, Mari had wanted to come here, to the fanciest place in the city. It was where everyone rich went to celebrate special events and holidays. She had made him put on a tux and rent a limo, then told the waiter that they wanted the table in the very middle of the room. She had explained that she wanted to be seen, because rumors were going around that scouting agents for a ritzy modeling agency were eating there tonight.

It seemed that they had very different ideas on the meaning of Christmas.

"Aren't you having a good time?" Mari asked, expression slightly bewildered.

"Oh, yeah," he answered, glancing away from her searching gaze and over at the fifty foot silver tree just behind her chair. It was covered with glistening gold bulbs. He had been about to sit in the chair she was in, but she had insisted that she sit there. It was the perfect backdrop for her dress, she had said.

"Are you sure, Boo? You seem…distracted." She delicately sipped her wine.

"I'm fine." He looked over at the table a few hundred yards away as Mari's eyes drifted in that direction. She had said that the two scouts were sitting there. She had been busy trying to call their attention to her the entire night.

This wasn't the kind of Christmas that John wanted to be a part of. As if this place wasn't enough, they were going to her boss's mansion for a party after eating. It was supposed to be the party of the century.

He sighed, daydreaming again. What he wanted to do was set up a little tree and pop some popcorn. Then string it in rows and hang it across the green needles. He wanted to have only the company of his true love, to tell her other how much he loved her while drinking eggnog.

Obviously, that wasn't happening.

His mind went back to a Christmas many years ago, one that should have long since faded from his memory, but hadn't. One of being in an alien bar across the galaxy with…Shayera. Though he hadn't enjoyed being pounded on by big purple aliens too much, he had liked being with her. And when she was happy, her whole face glowed. She was so beautiful then.

"…but I think that Chris definitely loves Janna, but she's too caught up with Jasper. I want to try to get them under the mistletoe together tonight at Tray's party. Janna needs to see how Chris feels about her. Will you take care of Jasper for me, Boo?" Mari blinked at him, sort of a wink but not quite. It was one of her many trademarks. "And speaking of love triangles," she lowered her voice mysteriously, "have you seen the way Fire has been looking at Elongated Man? What a couple they would be…"

"Right." He wasn't really paying any attention to her as she prattled on.

She pursed her lips with slightly veiled annoyance. "Would you like to order the lemon chicken or the…" She paused. "…Fried elephant legs?"

"That's great."

"You aren't listening to me, John!" she growled, leaning forward to get up in his face.

He jumped in surprise. "What?"

"What are you doing? You haven't heard a word I've said tonight!"

"Sure I have," he said defensively. "You asked if I was okay, and I said that I was distracted."

"Yeah, about twenty minutes ago. Where is going on in your head tonight?" She huffed impatiently, picking up her menu. She ran her eyes over the expensive dishes printed neatly across the plastic.

"Mari? Have you ever thought of staying in for Christmas Eve? You know, decorating a tree and having a little romantic dinner?"

She snorted unbelievingly. "Why would we do that? We have a perfect tree right behind us, and this dinner is romantic."

"But we didn't decorate that tree. And this isn't exactly romantic, with so many people all around us."

"Yeah, but we can see the falling snow." She motioned towards the glass roof high over their heads. "And there's mistletoe taped everywhere, and this great service. It's perfect."

He said it before he could lose his nerve. "No it isn't."

"What?" She seemed totally shocked.

"Not for me. This isn't how I want to spend Christmas Eve, Mari. Not like this." He pushed his chair back, and it screeched a little. The scouts finally looked over, but not at the moment that she actually wanted the attention.

"What are you saying?" Her voice was shrill with disbelief.

"I want to break up. I'm sorry," John said, almost sincerely. He stood, and walked out of the restaurant and into the snowy night without a second glance behind him. Where he was going, he didn't know.

Shayera Hol and Carter Hall:

Shayera sat on a stool in front of the counter in the bar. Most of the lights were turned down, and it smelled like smoke. She took a depressed sip of her drink.

"Shayera?"

She turned, feeling almost hopeful, then saw that it was only Carter Hall. His wing harness wasn't on, thankfully, and he was clothed in a denim jacket and jeans. He almost looked normal. Who was I expecting so that I was disappointed to see him? Somehow, she knew the answer before she asked herself that.

"Your wings are folded down?" He sadly eyed the back of her jacket. "Why do that to yourself, Shayera? They make you who you are; they are beautiful."

"Sure, Carter." She turned back to face the front again. She stared down at the stained counter, sipping her drink again. "What are you doing here?"

She hadn't seen him for quite a long time, ever since he had accepted that maybe they weren't meant for each other after all. From the way he was acting, it seemed that the old human expression, 'absence makes the heart grow fonder', was really true after all. For him, anyway.

"I was out on the town, and saw you. I recognized you by the sparks of our love floating into the atmosphere." He pulled a stool closer to her and plopped down on it. It swayed unsteadily, creaking.

If it was even possible, he was even crazier than when she had first met him. He seemed determined to make her see the truth about their ancient history together.

"Right," Shayera muttered to him, watching him from the corner of her eye as he raised a hand to the bartender. "Why aren't you with someone you care about? This is Christmas Eve, after all."

"But I am, Shayera." He grinned adorably, taking the glass as the bartender slid it down the bar to him. "What about you? I know that you are unwilling to be with the likes of me on a day such as this. Why aren't you celebrating?"

"I don't celebrate Christmas." That's not really true that you don't celebrate it, her inner voice mumbled annoyingly. A memory of her best Christmas ever, spent in an alien bar with John, popped to the surface. She sighed, mentally cursing her great memory.

"That's too bad. I remember when we celebrated a version back in Egypt that was almost like what is called Christmas in this time, " Carter said fondly. "It was so beautiful, and so were you. No snow of course, we being in the desert, but we both liked it better that way. Thanagar was such a hot-climate planet, you know."

"Yes, I do," she ground out. Even after seeing the flood of memories from the Absorbacron after being kidnapped by Shadow Thief, she still didn't believe what Carter insisted was the truth.

"I'm sorry, Shayera. I know that you do not want to believe the truth of our heritage together…" His voice trailed off as he took a drink.

"You're right," she said curtly.

"I won't push it on you anymore. Please forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive, Carter." She stared off into space, thinking. Mostly about how things had used to be between her and John, and their son Rex from the future. Batman had told her all about him, and she could easily see him in her head. Green eyes, cropped brown hair, beautiful gray wings.

A bell chimed over the wall of drinks as the bartender poured something into a mug for someone sitting further down the bar. Shayera looked up, and saw that it was exactly midnight.

"Make a wish, Shayera," Carter murmured, sounding sane for the moment. "This is the time that your most beloved wishes and dreams come true every year." He went silent, presumably making his own wish.

I doubt that it really works, she thought dubiously. She believed in the kind of magic that someone like Dr. Fate or Zatanna did, but not the kind like what Carter was talking about.

That didn't stop her from closing her eyes and thinking of her deepest, most wanted, most coveted wish. What she wanted to happen most in her life. The person that she loved more than anything.

When she opened her eyes again, John Stewart was coming in the door of the bar, eyes lowered and feet trudging. She gasped with surprise, and he looked up. A smile covered his face, and he walked over to join her.

J'onn J'onnz:

The Martian stood on the balcony of the apartment that he shared with his human wife, staring up at the full moon. He was in his human form, the one he used when he was around her. She didn't mind seeing him in his natural form, and she even knew all about his home planet, but he preferred it this way. He didn't want to force her to love a green-skinned alien. It was easier this way.

The full moon was bright and very luminous in the pitch-black sky. It was much closer than it had been to the skies of Mars, and had taken some getting used to when he had first arrived on this strange new Earth. Now he was almost used to it, happy to see the hovering orb in the night sky.

It seemed friendly somehow, especially the craters that some called 'the man in the moon'. It was round and white, resembling a floating soccer ball that the human children enjoyed kicking around. The only thing missing was the black circles all over it. Stars were glittering around the moon, twinkling brightly. They seemed to be winking down from the velvety blanket called the sky.

It's so bright out tonight; the moon must be really close. Man, it's super creepy. It's like that book where the moon almost crashes into the earth… A teenager walked past down on the sidewalk below, bundled up against the slight winter chill in a warm parka. J'onn could tell that he was American by listening in to his thoughts, though not intentionally.

I think that guy is checking me out. Should I walk over and talk to him or what? Maybe I should call Margie for advice…

I wonder what that guy standing on the balcony is doing. He's just staring at the sky. Maybe there's going to be a meteor shower or something…

My feet hurt. Why did I let Lotus convince me to go shopping with her?

I'm going to starve to death before I get to the pizza place. Why do the Chinese have their food places so far apart in this part of town?

The moon is so beautiful tonight! But it looks a little odd, too. So round and full.

J'onn heaved a deep sigh. The thoughts of humans were so different than the ones of his friends and family back on Mars. There, they had thought with poetry and love, filling their thoughts with feelings and emotions. Here, people thought so strangely. It had been so odd to him when he had first arrived.

I miss you, my family, he thought sadly. This holiday that would happen in the morning, called Christmas, reminded him of one back on his home planet that had been known as Jask`la`san. It had been for celebrating your family and loved ones, and the time that they had shared together. It had been his very favorite event as a young child, and even as an adult.

Now, during the human holidays, he was reminded even more of the family that he had lost. Oh, My'ria'h. How I miss you and the children, he grieved mournfully. It was times like this that he felt most alone.

"John? Could you come here, please?" his wife called from the living room, using his civilian name. Her accent was so beautiful, flowing and gentle, calling his name and caressing the sound with the sweet music she made.

J'onn gave one last glance at the shining moon, and thought, I love you, my My'ria'h. He turned and glided back into the house, a few flakes of snow beginning to rain down outside.

Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince:

"Would you like the main course now, sir?" Alfred asked politely, standing in the doorway of the dining room. He had already put out the appetizers for Bruce and Diana, but they hadn't touched most of them. Bruce was clearing his throat awkwardly every few minutes, and crumpling his cloth napkin. So unlike his usual cool and calm self. And Diana had been biting her lip delicately and sipping from her wine glass.

"Yes please, Alfred. Bring it out." Bruce cleared his throat nervously.

Alfred bobbed his head once, then walked over to remove the dishes. He carried them back into the kitchen.

"So…what's eating you tonight, Bruce?" the Amazon spoke up. She looked perfectly stunning in a glittering black gown that swept against the floor when she walked. Sliver and turquoise Amazonian jewelry perfectly accented the glamorous outfit.

"What?" He frowned. Surely she doesn't mean literally…

"It's something I heard Fla…I mean, Wally say." She stared at the small white tree in one corner of the massive dining room, decorated with red and blue glitter and garland. It was nothing compared to the giant one in the formal living room, though. Was it the wrong thing to say? Sometimes Wally just speaks his mind and not what it polite, she thought worriedly.

"Figures," he muttered darkly, leaning to the side a little as Alfred came back with the steaming plates of buttery lobster and white potatoes. He sat them on the table and retreated back to the kitchen for his own dinner.

Diana lifted her fork and took a dainty bite of the soft potato. "This is delicious," she commented, trying to make conversation. What was wrong with Bruce tonight? He had sounded fine on the phone when inviting her to come to his mansion for Christmas Eve, but now he seemed different and odd. He wasn't like himself right now.

"Alfred makes a splendid chef." He cleared his throat for the gazillionth time. How should I put this? I don't know how to begin this. What if she says no? What if she doesn't even answer me?

"Yeah, um, he does." Hera, this is awkward. Give me strength. She unconsciously raised her eyes towards the ceiling.

"Are you all right?" He used his fork to take a bite of the red flesh of his own lobster.

She nodded meekly, lifting her glass to take a sip of wine, trying to cover up her blush. She knew that it would show up very well against her pale skin.

Bruce took a drink too, trying to think of something to say to fill the long silence.

"Hey, Bru-ce," came an almost singsong voice from the dining room doorway. "Hen-way re-ay ou-yay oing-gay o-tay op-pay he-tay estion-quay?"

He choked on his drink, coughing into the glass.

"Bruce?" She frowned, concerned. This was just too strange. And what language had that been? It was nothing like what she'd ever heard before. Perhaps something was wrong with her hearing...

"Well?" Dick asked slyly, stepping lightly into the dining room.

"What are you doing here?" Bruce ground out with annoyance. He sent his fiercest BatGlare at Blüdhaven's protector. This was just what he didn't need, Dick here to meddle with his affairs. And when tonight was gong to be so important, too. Why did he have to find out about my plans to propose to Diana? Why?

"Hello, Dick," Diana greeted him politely. "Would you like to join us?"

Bruce intensified the Glare, still focused completely on his ex-partner.

Fine, he mouthed. Out loud he announced, "I have plans with Barbara in about thirty minutes. I just thought I'd drop by and see what was happening here at the mansion."

"You can go now," Bruce ordered coldly, voice icier than the lightly falling snow outside.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going. Have a nice time." He winked, then turned to go.

Just then, as if on cue, all the lights flickered. Every bit of electricity winked out, leaving the mansion in complete and total darkness. Everything was silent for a moment, no one saying a word.

"Master Bruce? It seems that a blizzard is occuring outside. It is blowing in through several states." Alfred came hurrying into the dining room with a small candle, nearly bumping into Dick. The faint light flickered across the walls, casting eerie shadows everywhere. "It appears that the power may be out for a while."

"Then I'd better get going if I'm going to see Barbara," Dick said, finally motivated to get out of their hair.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Master Dick." Alfred went over to the large picture window and swept the red velvet curtains out of the way. Deep, white snow was piled all the way over the window, and wind could be heard gushing wildly outside the heavy snowdrift. "I think that it is going to turn into a very bad blizzard, sir."

"How is that even possible?" Dick demanded incredulously. "It was just coming down a little when I got here!" He ran to the window to stare out, like he didn't believe his own eyes.

"I'm afraid the rest of your dinner will have to wait, Master Bruce, Mistress Diana," the elderly butler murmured. "Perhaps you should retire to the living area."

"Maybe you should," Dick said meaningfully, expression crafty in the flickering light from Alfred's candle.

"Do you want to, Diana?" Bruce turned to her with a questioning look, choosing to ignore Dick and his current state of extreme peskiness.

"I suppose so," she said doubtfully.

"I will go light a fire, sir." Alfred marched determinedly away into the darkness, light fading with his shadowy figure.

"See you around, Bruce." Dick melted into the shadows with his perfected Nightwing abilities.

He's acting more like a child than when he actually was one, Bruce thought sourly, feeling the lump in his inside jacket pocket shoving against his chest. What is with him and acting stupidly on holidays? Does he just like to torment me?

Somehow, he knew that the answer was yes.

"Ready to go?" He stood, and walked over to Diana's chair. She nodded, taking one last sip of her wine, and let him pull her chair back in a gentlemanly fashion. She stood, and they both started off into the dark corridor outside the dining room.

"How do you ever find your way around in the dark like this?" Looking up at his perfectly chiseled face and the deep shadows crossing it, she knew that the darkness suited him even when he was out of costume.

"Practice. We get a lot of blizzards in the winter months here in Gotham." He took her arm to guide her past a table with a few framed photographs sitting on its surface.

"I see. We never had weather like this on Themyscira."

"Lucky you." He sent her his famous billionaire grin, just slightly crooked across his face. It was the one he used in every photo taken for various magazines, and at different events. It was the one that he never would have been caught dead using as the famous Dark Knight.

"I guess so." Her voice was slightly breathless. Hera, why am I acting like this? It's just Bruce. Why should I be nervous around him? She swallowed hard, knowing that something was up with him. It had been obvious the entire night, but now she had no choice but to think about it. The sudden absence of food left nothing to keep her attention away from the fact, leaving it free to be captured.

The cheery glow of the fireplace in the formal living room lit up the midnight-like hallway as Alfred got the blaze going. He came casually out of the room just ahead of them, still carrying his candle. "Enjoy the fire, Master Bruce," he said in a voice that showed that he hiding a smile.

Dick. Bruce thought it as one would a curse. It was obvious that the fomer had let the bat out of the cave to Alfred about what he planned to ask Diana tonight.

"Thanks so much, Alfred," Diana thanked him sweetly, rosy cheeks slightly flushed.

"Anything for you, Mistress Diana." He turned and made his way in the opposite direction.

Bruce turned up the volume of his playboy charm. "Shall we?" He gestured towards the doorway of the formal living room.

That beautiful smile that he loved so much crossed her face. "We shall," she agreed playfully. She followed him willingly as they went into the room.

Bruce thought he heard a slight rustling sound in one corner of the room, but decided to pretend that he was imaging it. If Dick were following them, he would be practically committing suicide.

A ten-foot white Christmas tree soared up to brush against the magnificent cathedral ceiling, much larger than the dining room version. It was covered with elegant ornaments, fit for a king's palace. What else would you expect from Bruce Wayne?

"You have a beautiful tree, Bruce," Diana complimented him. 'A beautiful tree'? Think of something better than that, she chastised herself. Don't make small talk with Bruce. You love him. You should be able to talk to him about anything. At least, according to those magazines at the checkout lines.

"Thanks." He led her over to the velvet couch that resembled the snow outside, and they both sunk into the plush cushions.

"So…" She cleared her throat, pretending to look at the tree.

"Well…" Come on, Wayne! Think of an opener, he commanded himself gruffly.

A crooning voice suddenly burst from the speakers of the stereo over beside the roaring fireplace. The voice belted out lyrics about true love and the romance of the holidays, and Diana and Bruce sat there, stunned. The fireplace lighting dimmed as something or someone invisible turned down the flames' intensity.

"That was definitely unexpected," Diana said finally. He didn't plan this, did he? It doesn't really seem like something he would do, but he hasn't been himself all night…

"Yes, it was." He cleared his throat a couple more times. It wasn't really. A certain Dick Grayson was more than likely involved in this. "Diana, I need to ask you something."

"Yes?" What could it be? she wondered, nibbling at her lip.

"I've been dancing around this question for way too long." He moved off the couch, kneeling on the carpet in front of her. She suppressed a gasp, staring at him with wide eyes. "Diana, will you marry me?" He reached into his jacket pocket, sliding out the black velvet box. He popped the lid open, revealing a golden ring with a tiny white diamond sparkling against the blackness.

Bruce held his breath. Say yes, he urged her silently, hands feeling a little sweaty. Proposing was hard work if it could make a billionaire playboy who was famous for being a ladies' man sweat.

Did he just propose to me? Diana thought with shock. Her mind was spinning, whirling wildly out of control. What would Mother say? And my sisters? Actually marrying a man. That is a horrible sin on Themyscira.

"W…well?"

"Say yes," came a faint whisper from the corner.

Both Bruce and Diana jumped, and Bruce glared over at Dick's shadowy form. You are officially grounded. Who cares if you're over eighteen and not living in my house anymore? I'll disable your motorcycle, Bruce promised mentally.

"Bruce…" She swallowed, unable to believe that she was about to say this. "Yes. I'll marry you, Bruce."

His face lit up. "Really?"

"Yes," she repeated, voice singing out the word with pure joy. She reached over and grabbed the engagement ring, and slipped it over the ring finger of her right hand.

"Uh, it's supposed to go on your left hand." He easily slipped it from her finger and put it on the correct finger, ignoring the snicker from the dark corner.

She blushed beautifully. "Oh. I'm kind of new to this kind of thing."

"That's all right. I love you just the way you are."

"I love you too, Bruce." She leaned towards him, wrapping her arms carefully around his neck and shoulders. Their lips met softly, as the blizzard roared outside, snow flashing past in the pale moonlight.

"Such a Kodak moment," Dick muttered, rolling his eyes.

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