December All Year
Placing the last box in the cupboard, Dick Grayson sighed; all done. Oracle was finally sorted out in her new place and everything had been put away where she could reach it.
"Just a minute my impatient ex boy wonder, just one more thing," Barbara Gordon chided lightly and reached for a cardboard roll that had sat against the desk all this time. She slid her fingers inside and uncoiled a large, glossy 'poster'... no a calendar.
"I want this right above my desk where I can look at it every day," she smirked slightly and unfurled the roll.
Dick Grayson stood rooted to the spot as the picture formed and he realized what it was.
Roy Harper was a dead man.
"What do you think?" Barbara asked, "Shall I stick to the right month, or just choose my favorite model and leave it December all year around?"
"Where did you get that?" Dick spluttered as a shot of an almost naked Garth grinned back at him.
"Oh, it was a gift."
"Roy Harper, it has to be him, the bastard!" Dick dropped into the chair in abject shock. "I don't believe that he had those printed, oh my God, what will Bruce say?"
Barbara finally threw back her head and hooted, "Calm down shyboy, I have the only copy. Well, that's not strictly true, he had one printed for all of the women involved in the Titans or the JLA. Oh, and Black Canary too, but she just intimidated him into it. Oh yeah, and the Huntress, she offered him a choice, 'death or a calendar'."
"H..h..how many women actually have one of these?"
"Hmmm? No more than twenty, so don't panic." Barbara waved her hand in Dick's direction and smiled, "Oh and Superman has one, but we promised him we wouldn't talk about that," she added with a smirk.
"*Twenty*?" Dick's voice shot up a tone, "He printed twenty of those things!"
"No, I think that the print run was actually fifty, but I'm not sure about that, something about it being a dollar fifteen cheaper if he had fifty run...."
Barbara smiled as she began to leaf idly through the pages. A sweet Arsenal shot with a strategically placed quiver. A Tempest pose to knock your eyes out with him standing in the water, barely covering his blushes, but when she reached
December, Barbara paused.
"Aw, my favorite. I just love a man with muscles and an attitude!" she sighed longingly.
On the page in front of her was the delectable Nightwing, standing side on, one arm flexed causing his bicep to stand proud, wearing only his mask, a Santa Claus hat and a 'Bat-scowl'.
Suddenly the calendar disappeared from her fingers.
"You shouldn't be looking at that!" Dick gasped as his face flushed red, "That was a private photo session for someone who The Titans owed a really big favor. It was supposed to be a few 'art' shots which never went any further!"
"Give me back my calendar!"
"Dick Grayson, hand it over or you die."
"Hand it over or I call Roy and get him to make Bruce a gift of one for Christmas."
"You wouldn't dare," Dick swallowed hard.
"You willing to test out that theory, Grayson?"
Dick could feel the flush spreading from his toes to his hairline. What on Earth had possessed him to pose in the first place? He'd use the 'I was drunk' excuse, but he didn't drink... well, not until today anyway.
Babs sighed and shook her head, "Why are you so ashamed of your body?" she asked in her best 'school marm-ish' voice.
"I...I'm not!" Dick replied.
"Then give me back my calendar before I decide to damage a part of it."
"Do you realize how much harm this could be to my reputation?" he insisted with almost childlike petulance.
"You mean the reputation of guy who wore tights and a mask from a very early age and spent his nights hanging around the streets with another guy in a rubber suit?"
Dicks jaw fell open, "I am going to tell Bruce you said that!" he threatened.
"You always were a little tell-tale."
"I was not!"
"Were too. Robin was such a good boy, he never told lies..." Babs began to chuckle, "Bruce never knew you quite like I did, did he?"
Pouting deliciously, Dick shrugged, "I never pretended to be perfect."
Babs leaned forward and touched Dick's hand, "Dick Grayson was the cutest kid I ever met and an ace manipulator from an early age. Now he just has the best butt in Gotham!" she beamed, bobbing her eyebrows playfully, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Using his best glare, the one he saved for the Jokers and the Dudley Soames of this world, Dick clasped the calendar to his chest and refused to let go.
"You crumple that ass, Grayson and you are toast," Barbara returned the glare before swinging her chair around and picking up the telephone.
"What are you doing?"
"Do I get my calendar back?"
"Okay. Hi, Roy, it's Oracle. I need a favor. Do you have any of those calendars left?"
Eyes widening to kitten proportions, Dick hissed, "Stop it!"
"You do? Oh that's great, could you send me another one? Oh and I need one for a friend too..."
Leaping from the chair, Dick grabbed the phone and slammed it down. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh really? I'm sure Bruce would appreciate the 'artistic merit' of it just as much as I do."
"You...you can't do this to me!" Dick's voice had gone from 'Nightwing' to 'Robin' in a second. "We're supposed to be friends," he whined pitifully.
"And we'll remain friends as long as you hand over my calendar," Babs 'whined' back.
"Are you going to stamp your foot?" she sniggered, "You used to do that when I wouldn't let you get your own way. That and the legendary 'Dick Grayson teenage hissy fit'."
Suddenly Dick's face changed, the expression that was Nightwing returned; calm, controlled and 'just formulated a plan of attack'.
"Okay," Dick smoothed the calendar out and handed it back, "If seeing me naked gets you that hot, who am I to deny you your thrill?" he smirked as he leaned back against the desk and folded his arms across his chest. "Want me to sign it for you? 'To my biggest fan, love Nightwing'?"
The look on Babs' face almost made him snigger, but he needed to remain serious for this to work fully and decided he'd slip on the old 'Bat face'. Hey, it always worked for Bruce.
"I just never realized that seeing my butt would get you so excited, or I'd have shown it to you sooner," he teased, giving her a wink and a faint leer.
"You are such an arrogant b..."
"Now, now, there's no use denying it. Here let me put it up right behind your monitor, where you can gaze longingly at it all day!" He reached out for the calendar, but it was snatched out of the way.
"Never mind, I'm not sure the desk can take the weight of you and your ego, birdboy!" she snorted. "Maybe I'll stick to June after all, Tempest looks pretty hot all wet and drippy that way..." she muttered just loud enough for him to hear, but placing the calendar in the desk drawer.
Ouch. That hurt. But a superhero should never be dissuaded by sharp words.
"Anything else I can do for you before I go?" he whispered, flashing her his best lady-killer smile.
"Just watch that the door doesn't hit you in that cute butt on the way out!"
Laughing now, Dick grabbed his jacket and shrugged it onto his shoulders.
"Okay, see you later, beautiful," he kissed her lightly on the cheek and jumped as she whacked him hard across the ass.
"Don't be late for supper on Christmas Eve, I don't care how many maniacs escape from Arkham, I want you here by eight, okay?"
Opening the door, Dick couldn't help but feel just slightly smug about his 'victory'.
"Oh and Dick?" Babs' voice echoed into the corridor as he stepped out of the door.
"What's the full zipcode of Wayne Manor?"