Have A Merry Christmas

Written by PallaPlease

December 8, 2000

===Author’s Notes: Darn it! I’m losing my mind!…oops, already done THAT…’nyway, here’s another Secret/Robin fanfic, this one being a kind of bittersweet Christmas fic. I hope you enjoy it! Please review, critique me and it’ll make me a better writer. (Maybe.)===

"Sandy…Aaron," she told me, dark eyes shining. I’d met her in the mall while Christmas shopping, both of us reaching for the same gift—a small stuffed Robin toy. Okay, maybe it was a teeny bit self-absorbed of me to think the loveliest girl-slash-superheroine I’d ever known would want a toy Robin, but what-the-heck, why not get it? Sandy (though I didn’t know her name at the time), a petite red-head smaller than me with chocolate eyes, turned scarlet and let go of the doll, stammering an apology. Hell, it wasn’t like *I* was going to be pissed when a cute girl wants to buy a stuffed toy Robin. Might encourage my ego a tad, but otherwise…

My name is Timothy Drake, Robin the Third, which sounds kind of British once I think of it. I’m the newest assistant to the Bat and probably the brainiest guy on the Young Justice team.

Considering the fact that Superboy’s a flirty-flighty all-brawn-no-brain sort of guy and Imp’s constantly wired, that’s not much to say.

I’m getting off topic.

"No, it’s okay," I laughed, picking it up and pressing it towards her with what I hoped was friendly-I’m-not-a-geek smile. Unfortunately, no matter *how* much I try, I always look nerdy when I smile. While not in costume. The girl was pretty cute and her blushing made her even more appealing. She accepted it and hugged it with a surprising gentleness, like she was in love with the li’l bugger. Sorry, fluff-brain, but the chicks dig the real R, not a cheap copy. If Superboy knew I had hormones, the world would end, hands down.

"I’m Tim Drake," I announced suddenly and she smiled brightly at me, grabbing my hand and shaking it with immense vigor. I winced, worrying about whether my poor fingers would be damaged in the future due to her firm grip. Wow. She was, what, 4’3" with a deadly handshake? "Sandy…Aaron," she replied, and I noted that she had the most innocent smile I’d ever seen.

Discounting Impulse, that’s just naïveté. And possibly obliviousness, but never-mind that certain train of thought.

"So…you come here often?" Well, gee, EINSTEIN, nice pick-up line there. It’s only the, let’s see, most commonly used one in the book. Oddly, she shook her head.

"No, first time here."

Wow, she had a beautiful voice. Almost like Secret’s.

As if afraid that wasn’t the answer I wanted, she hastily pointed to the ‘Batman & Robin’ display in the store’s mall-window. "I saw the display and I knew I had to get something from here. I’ve already finished my…Christmas shopping…and I felt like buying something for myself. And the Robin doll was too adorable too pass up…" Her voice trailed off and she studied our feet, shyly peeking up through her long eyelashes, so reminiscent of a wonderful, lovely, perfect girl I know…

Whoops, getting off the train-of-thought there.

"Cool."

Smooth, Tim, real smooth. Why not strip off everything but your underwear, jump up on the store counter, and then scream incomprehensible madman phrases? Wouldn’t *that* be fun, Rob-man?

"Um, I’ve got to go now," she mumbled and I, desperate to stick by the angel, opened my mouth and did something Alfred would’ve been proud of. Heck, Alfred would’ve *knighted* me. "I’ll pay for it!" I blurted, eyes widening a second too late. When she lifted her head, an excuse popped into my head, one that would have made Bruce proud. "Since it’s Christmas, I’ll pay for it and we can say it was a gift," I finished quickly, in a hopeful manner that Dick would have been proud of.

I’m just the little people-pleaser, aren’t I?

To my shock, Sandy’s mouth opened into a delighted smile and she hugged me in the center of the aisle, in the middle of a mass-mall store, where hundreds of harried parents were buying last minute gifts. I had no clue what to do about the situation, but obviously the buyers and store-representatives did---they ‘ah’ed and ‘oh’ed. Dang it.

After I bought the impromptu Christmas present and Sandy and I settled ourselves onto a bench implanted at the foot of one of those unfortunate mall trees that look so scrawny, she pulled the gift-wrapped box containing my impersonator and shook it mischieviously.

"Oh, I wonder what’s in THERE," I said in a stage-voice, adopting an expression of mock-puzzlement. She giggled and went along with it. "Yes, indeed, what-EVER could be wrapped in here?" she proclaimed and I lost control of a snicker. When she purposefully let it lie on her lap, I considered how women-slash-girls learn the many ways of artistic torture. How the heck do they know EXACTLY how to make you want to kiss-and/or-shake them by the shoulders?

I’ll never know. If how Bart acts around Cissie is any indication, neither will he. Poor defenseless guy. Girls with huge blue eyes shouldn’t be allowed to radiate that much kiss-me aura. I swear, Impulse’s gonna lose something other than his marital status to that girl…particularly two things, one starting with ‘h’ and the other with ‘v’ ending in ‘y.’

I bit my lip, eyes locked onto the present, resisting the urge to grab it and rip the paper off despite my knowing what was inside it. After a few more minutes of the possibly unintentional torture, I snapped.

"For God’s sake, open it!" I cried and she burst out laughing. Fumbling with her hands while she shook with giggles and laughs, she unwrapped it quickly, taking extra care to not rip the paper, folding it neatly before, with great pompous air, lifting the box’s lid.

Sandy scooped the doll up and hugged it to her face, kissing the top of its felt head. I felt a bubble of jealousy blow in my chest. Stupid doll.

Yet, in that instant when she held the doll, I recognized her. The small red-head sitting beside me wasn’t a Sandy Aaron or some criminal or whatever---she was Secret.

As I sat there, stunned, the tiny clues I’d been subconsciously gathering finally placed together to solve a puzzle, ‘Sandy’ noticed my silence. "Tim…?" she whispered, and I looked into her eyes. A little blue had trickled into the center of her eyes, around the pupils.

Licking my lips, I leaned forward, far enough so that she could smell the light cologne I put on from habit (and a goofy teenage attempt to impress the girls), as the third boy-wonder or not, and piece it together. "I know a robin," I whispered gently in her ear, watching the hairs on the side of her neck sway from the air I exhaled.

And then I left.

I placed my green mask on with practiced ease, careful to place the sticky side onto the bridge of my nose, my forehead, and the area around my eyes. Running a hand through my black hair, I made sure the style wasn’t recognizable as being Timothy Drake’s. Without thinking, I applied my cologne lightly and felt my heart ache at the too recent memories. Secret, my mind cried, oh, Secret. I should have told you.

There was no time to reminisce. Gotham is a dark city that needed its avenging bird and its dark knight. The dark knight himself was unable to join me that night, him and a certain Catwoman having another engagement (both in civilian form, of course) that lovely, smoggy evening. Why the nerve of Batman…pass up a dank, nasty, depressing evening full of crooks, nutcases, and Joker-wannabes for a girl?

I would have done the same in an instant, for her.

I buckled myself into the Redbird, roaring out of the Cave in an attempt to erase both pairs of haunting eyes…the sapphire blue ones and the chocolate brown ones.

I hoped some really persistent moron would be stealing thousands of dollars in jewels that night. I needed a new punching bag, the one Bruce gave me was in shreds by then.

My staff impacted with his face, knocking him out cold while my elbow broke another thug’s nose. I was too busy paying attention to Monsieur Passed-Out and Lord Bloody-Nose to notice the hulking man-o’-doom that had creeped up behind me. Someone did. A clammy feeling brushed the back of my neck and I knew in an instant that Secret had joined the fight. I turned to see the nastiest thug of the trio fall to the ground, whimpering like a baby.

I glanced up to see Secret glaring down her nose at him, one hand on her hip, floating in the air as if her feet were on a pedestal, a gold light burning out from her body. "Are you all right, Robin?" she asked, her voice beginning cold and emotionless, ending worried and full of emotion.

Damn her.

"..yeah…"

"Good."

She was turning to leave, but I couldn’t let her go.

"Why’d you change…? At the mall?" I asked softly. She hesitated. "I…wanted a Christmas. A happy Christmas."

Secret slowly sank toward the ground, her legs curling underneath her in the form of misty-smoke. "Why…?" I whispered, crouching beside her, barely hearing the sirens in the distance. She looked up at me from where she sat in the dirt. "I thought you might have been…Timothy when I first saw him at the mall. I’ve wanted so badly to talk to you, goof off, be a normal girl…I made a deal with an angel of God. I wanted to have a human body to talk to you, but if I looked like me, then you…Tim…would’ve known I was a superheroine if you weren’t Robin. I couldn’t take that chance."

She paused and I wished I could touch her face.

"Robin, you have no idea how I feel! Kon and Cassie are always together and I see Bart talking on the phone with Cissie…BART, of all people, has a romantic relationship! Ever since I joined the team, I’ve grown fond of you over time. Too fond."

Her voice trailed off, and her shoulders fell.

"When Klarion made us adults," she continued softly, "I wanted to tell you everything. I was a woman. You’d become a man. When we were changed back…I hated it. Do you understand?"

I felt a crystal of cold snow fall onto my cheek, melting at my body heat.

"I was able to realize what I felt for you went so much deeper than friendship. You might not care for me, but I’ll always care for you. I’ve seen how you and Spoiler," her voice spat out the female vigilante’s name with a deep hatred, "act around each other. Flirting. Laughing. Teasing."

She fell silent.

How do you tell a dead girl that you want to hug her? This conversation (plus all emotions as a side-benefit) was something straight out of "X-Files."

The snow fell faster and the police came, picking up the thugs and handcuffing them.

By then, my lady love and I were gone.

Not into the sunset on a white horse, me in sparkling silver armor, her in a flowing, gauzy gown of pink silk, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes at the steed magically directed itself in a perfect straight line to my castle.

We swung off on a cable, me in spandex and tights, her in over coat and mist, holding each other’s hands the best we could and vanishing into the snow.

Some people claim to find true love during Christmas.

I’d found love months before, I just couldn’t see it.

Have a merry Christmas.

**OWARI**

**END**

**FIN**
**OVER**

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