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Selina tucks up her feet on the couch and sips her hot chocolate, not even bothering to hide her laughter as Bruce is repeatedly bested by a semi-naked toddler in a room barely a twentieth the size of their home. Bruce, the consummate vigilante, the man who spends his nights pounding Gotham’s most dangerous criminals into dust with his bare hands, can’t seem to catch a three-year-old and make her put on her Christmas dress. He’s resorted to bribes, and it is the cutest damn thing Selina has ever seen.
“C’mon, Lennie, it’s Christmas Eve,” Bruce coaxes as he feels around in the closet, where a squealing, giggling Helena has taken refuge. “Don’t you wanna look pretty for Santa?”
“No!” Helena shrieks defiantly, and then erupts in another fit of giggles.
Selina is pretty sure that Helena has no actual reservations about the Christmas dress. It’s just that she’s three, and no is her favorite word, and she’s having so much fun running around she doesn’t want to stop.
Bruce finally gives up. “Selina,” he complains, giving her a desperate, pouty look that has long come to mean I am in parenting hell, please rescue me.
And even though she knows she shouldn’t rescue him, Selina gives in as she always does. “You’re not going to win a battle of wills with a toddler, baby,” she reminds him for the hundredth time. She reaches into the closet, pushes aside the hanging clothes, and scoops up Helena without asking. “All right, little cutie. We’re getting our clothes on and we’re gonna have some hot chocolate.”
Sensing the game is over, Helena lets herself be dressed. Afterwards she snuggles into Selina’s lap with her little sippy cup of warm-but-not-hot chocolate, and watches with very big eyes as Bruce sets up the little travel Christmas tree on the coffee table.
It was Bruce’s idea to spend the holidays outside of Gotham. By now there are enough Batman copycats to maintain the illusion, at least for a few days, that Bruce and Batman are not the same person. So he booked a suite at the Grand Floridian, bought a tiny swimsuit and some pool toys for baby Helena, and brought the family to Florida to spend Christmas in the most kid-centered place on earth: Disney World. The first night they were here, Helena just about exploded with delight when they took her to the Christmas parade. She met Mickey and Minnie, got a princess makeover, turned up her nose at It’s A Small World when she realized the dolls weren’t available to take home, and absolutely gorged herself on soft pretzels, ice cream bars, and Smucker’s Uncrustables. Bruce has smiled and laughed more in the last week than Selina has seen in all the time she’s known him. It just makes him so happy to see his kid having fun…as well it should.
Now it’s Christmas Eve, and Helena is finally old enough to know what that means. “Presents? Presents?” she says eagerly, pointing to the tree as Bruce hangs little ornaments on the branches. “Tree come with presents?”
“No, no presents, not yet. Santa brings the presents later,” Selina reminds her. She reaches over to the end table for the little advent calendar that has held Helena’s attention all month. “Last day before Christmas hon, you ready?”
The calendar is shaped like a little house. It’s two-sided, with little doors hiding tiny Christmas-themed treasures on both sides. Helena puts all her concentration into opening the biggest door, the one marked 24, and squeaks in excitement when she withdraws, instead of a piece of candy or a bit of plastic jewelry, a little plush doll shaped like Minnie. “Pretty!” she says happily, clutching the tiny stuffed mouse to her chest.
Bruce finishes putting the tree together and sits beside them on the couch. “Come here, Len,” he coaxes, and Helena immediately crawls into his lap with her prize. “If you like that, wait until you see what Santa brings you tonight.”
Helena’s too busy snuggling her tiny plush toy to pay much attention to the promise of more gifts. Selina can’t help but smile; she remembers being that age, when every new thing was magical and exciting, something to be thoroughly savored and explored.
(She doesn’t like thinking about what came after, when she was old enough to know where she came from. But no. She won’t think about that. Not now.)
Back home, they’d go to church. Gotta maintain the image of the Upstanding Wayne Family, after all. Here, Bruce pours them another mug of hot chocolate, and settles down on the floor with Helena and her cloth dollhouse…which is just the right size to accommodate her little Christmas plush. “‘Hi, I’m Minnie,’” she says as her plushie, which she makes “walk” into the house. “‘I wanna see Santa. He here?’”
Bruce watches her play as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Like seeing Helena play with her little dollhouse is better than anything on Netflix. He even reaches up, pulls loose a strand of the fake Christmas tree, and props it up in the corner of the cloth dollhouse. “Now they have a tree for Santa to leave presents under,” he tells Helena, who lets out the happiest little cooing noise and makes her little Minnie plush “dance” in celebration.
Selina stays on the couch, curled up with her mug of chocolate and a plush blanket over her Christmas PJs, fighting a wave of mingled joy and longing at the scene before her. She’s happy to see her daughter happy, of course. But God, what she wouldn’t give for her own childhood to have been this happy. She loved her mom, of course. But if only they hadn’t had to fight for everything…if only they hadn’t had to squat when they lost their apartment…if only she could’ve had more Christmases like this, and fewer on the streets…
No. She forces herself to focus on the here and now. Helena isn’t ever going to know the kind of pain she did, and for that Selina knows she will be forever grateful. She knows Bruce too is trying to make up for a lonely childhood, trying to give Helena only the good things he remembers as a kid and none of the sad, lonely nights spent thinking he would trade all his money for one more night with his parents.
Bruce looks up from Helena’s little game, and meets Selina’s eyes. I love you, she thinks, knowing he will see it on her face, and he gives her the sweetest, shyest little smile. He doesn’t look like a playboy now. He looks like…well, a dad. The dad she never got to meet. The dad her little girl will grow up knowing loves her more than life itself.
Suddenly Selina is the one squealing, as Bruce has jumped to his feet, scooped her into his arms, and is spinning her around like she’s no bigger than Helena. “Put me down! I can kick your ass!” she reminds him, but she’s laughing too hard to make the threat effective.
Helena perks up, looks up from her toys with big eyes. “Mommy says bad word,” she says with the unrepentant joy of a child who’s caught her parent misbehaving.
“She sure did, Lennie,” Bruce chuckles as he sets down Selina. “What should we do to her, hmm? I think…” He reaches out and teasingly boops Selina on the nose. “I think we should make her get us more hot chocolate, what do you think?”
“YES!” Helena squeals as she unsteadily pulls herself to her feet, buoyed by the prospect of more sugar. Bruce picks her up and balances her on his hip, giving Selina an expectant look. Well? You’re not going to say no to THAT?
Selina inclines her head with a little grin, feigning graceful defeat. “Guess I better take my punishment like a woman,” she says, already picking up the near-empty hot chocolate pot. “It’s Christmas, after all. Better be extra good tonight.”
Bruce just looks at her like she’s an angel. “You’re always good,” he says, and it’s not at all true, Selina knows it, but she knows Bruce doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean. He really sees her as good. And that knowledge, coupled with the sight of her husband cuddling their daughter as he looks at her through heart-filled eyes, makes her feel as if she could glow as bright as the Christmas lights.