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“All right, men,” Damian began. Chris sat up straight and listened, because he was a good listener, and Damian was good at having people listen to him. Chris looked to Colin, to make sure he was paying the proper amount of attention to their group’s de facto leader.
“As you both well know, my father and his alien husband have declared that we are not to be permitted to use any fireworks,” Damian went on. Chris ignored the offended feeling that rose in him at hearing Damian disdainfully describe his dad as “alien.” It wasn’t so much the word itself… it was Damian’s tone. But he didn’t want to pick a fight with Damian, especially not now that they were friends. He was actually beginning to suspect Damian didn’t even mean anything by it. That was just how he talked to people, for some reason.
Continuing his speech, Damian put his hands behind his back and paced the floor like a general preparing for war. “As you well know, I find this rule unfair. Since I’ve come to live here with my father, I’ve gotten to understand this holiday. We celebrate the independence of the country by eating barbecued meat and blowing things up. They’re violating our constitutional rights by not letting us use explosives.”
Colin stood up and declared, “Don’t tread on me!”
Damian nodded. “That’s the spirit. This is Independence Day, and today we take our independence!”
“With fireworks!” Colin exclaimed.
“Precisely,” Damian agreed. “So what about you, Kent? Are you in?”
Chris hesitated. He wanted to go along with Damian’s plan, of course, but he knew his father must have his reasons for saying they shouldn’t play with the fireworks. And he still wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with independence. He’d heard the others talk about screeching eagles and freedom and tea being thrown in a harbor, but none of it made much sense. It all differed so drastically from what he’d read in his history book.
“Um…” Chris shifted uncomfortably. “Well, what’s so great about fireworks?”
Colin and Damian exchanged an incredulous glance. “Are you kidding?” Colin demanded. “It’s colorful sparks. Actual fire, Chris.”
“What’s so great about them,” Damian continued, “Is that they’re fun. And every other kid in the country will have access to them this evening. Do you really think it’s fair for them to exclude us just because they don’t think it’s ‘safe?’” He put air quotes around the word, “safe,” as if it wasn’t even a real word.
“It’s un-American,” Colin chimed.
“We’re unfairly being held to a different standard than everyone else,” Damian reasoned. “We should be given more privileges, not less.”
Chris cocked his head. “Oh? And why is that?”
Damian sighed heavily. “Because I am the son of Batman. How many people can say that?”
Chris was preparing to say that several people could say that, and they had the siblings to prove it, but he didn’t think the comment would help any.
“And you,” Damian went on. “Well, you’re practically indestructible. You could walk through a real fire and the only damage would be to your clothes.”
Chris shrugged and nodded. “I guess.”
“Aren’t your dads always telling you both that you need to have more of a ‘normal’ childhood?” Colin asked.
“Well, yeah,” Chris agreed reluctantly.
“Then it’s settled,” Damian concluded. “They want us to be normal, so we’ll start today. We’re going to take back our Independence Day. All three of us. Together.”
“The three musketeers!” Colin exclaimed. Then, grinning and shaking his head, he amended, “The three patriots!”
Chris wrinkled his nose and finally asked the question he’d been dying to. “So… what exactly do fireworks have to do with independence?”
Damian frowned. “Well… it’s fun, and it’s tradition. According to your father, that’s what holidays are about.” Then, clearing his throat, he went on, “So stop asking so many questions, and come on, Kent!”
&&&
Clark loved the Fourth of July. He’d say this about every holiday, but this one was probably actually his very favorite. Bruce knew that, and though he personally couldn’t care less about it, Independence Day would always be a big to-do… because Clark enjoyed it. The previous year he had flown the Kents to Gotham and thrown such a big party they had all unfortunately ended up with their pictures in Us Weekly.
This year, however, Jonathan Kent had been chosen to play George Washington in the Smallville Independence Day Pageant, so the Kents couldn’t come to Gotham. And because of work, Clark couldn’t get away to spend the time with his parents. He had barely been able to take the afternoon and evening off. So Bruce decided they’d simply have a barbecue at the Manor, but he had a surprise lined up for Clark and the kids for that night. It wasn’t as big of a celebration as he’d like to have been able to have, but it was better than nothing. And Clark had been smiling all day… that was what mattered.
Bruce was preparing to go and join the older kids outside as Clark finished up the story he was writing in the study when he heard noise in the attic. And he had been raising these kids long enough to know what that noise sounded like… it sounded just like trouble.
He snuck quietly but quickly up the stairs and listened outside the attic for a moment before opening the door. He was greeted with the sight of Damian holding several explosives and Chris and Colin standing over a box with several more inside.
Bruce crossed his arms and put on a serious expression. “What do we have here?”
“Oh,” Damian began. “Hello, Father.”
Bruce shook his head. “Hello, son. And I asked you a question.”
“We’re, uh,” Chris sputtered. “We’re finding something to…”
“To play with,” Colin supplied. At that, Damian shot him a murderous glance.
Bruce took the explosives from Damian, who scowled deeply. “We don’t play with illegal explosives!”
The boy began to protest. “But…”
“But nothing,” Bruce cut in. “These are not toys. Alfred took them from you last week… you knew better than to come up here looking for them.”
“You realize that’s unfair, I hope,” Damian huffed. “I bought them with my own money!”
Bruce sighed heavily. “No, it is not unfair for me to keep you all from using illegal explosives. And I don’t care who bought them or with what, but don’t think we won’t be having a conversation about your online shopping habits later. My point is that you know better, young man.”
“We didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” Chris offered.
Again Bruce sighed, but not of frustration, like he had before. “I realize that, Chris. But I think you still knew it was a bad thing to do, didn’t you?”
Chris nodded, looking down at his shoes ashamedly. “Yes, sir.”
“Then you should have known better,” Bruce said quietly but forcefully. “You all knew better,” he concluded, eyes falling on each boy in turn, but lingering on Damian. He knew his youngest son well enough to know he was undoubtedly the mastermind of this little operation.
“I still don’t see how it’s fair,” Damian grumbled.
“Well, maybe it isn’t. But life isn’t fair,” Bruce told them as he began to walk away. Over his shoulder he added, “And if you’re all good boys and behave yourselves for the rest of the day, we’re going to give you something special this evening as a surprise. Now, I have to get out to the pool… I need to watch your older siblings.”
Bruce waited to see that the boys came down from the attic before he headed out to the pool. There he found Cass and Steph swimming, seemingly minding their own business. The ones he needed to watch were Dick, Jason, and their guests Wally and Roy. The four of them had a cooler full of beers and the cooler was now floating in the pool with them. And the more they drank, the more they chanted, “USA! USA! USA!” or “America, motherfuckers!” He was almost regretting telling Alfred to take the day off.
Bruce settled himself in a deck chair to watch the festivities… so he could make sure none of those drunken idiots drowned.
&&&
By the time Cass and Steph got out of the pool, the older boys were so loud and merry the girls couldn’t even hear one another. And with Tim, Kon, and Kara all in Kansas, Cass was glad that she at least had Steph so she didn’t have to spend all her time with a bunch of boys. Steph was more fun than them anyways.
The girls were preparing to go back into the house, since their skin had long ago gotten prune-like wrinkles, but Clark had just fired up the barbecue grill. Bruce was standing nearby, presumably to help him, and it was always amusing to watch Bruce in a food preparation situation. Cass was now wondering if they shouldn’t stick around out here.
“Let’s cuddle on the grass,” Stephanie requested, smiling and raising a brow, apparently on the same page as her girlfriend.
Cass wrinkled her nose and shook her head, but smiled softly. “Too hot.”
“That’s the idea,” Steph replied.
Cass took her hand and jerked her head in the direction of the house. If they were going to cuddle (which certainly did sound appealing) they could do it in Cass’s bedroom, where there was air conditioning and no dads or brothers to watch them.
No one paid attention as the girls slipped away and into the house. Stephanie pressed her body up against Cass’s back as they moved and she giggled softly into Cass’s hair. Once they were in the house, Steph pressed a few soft kisses to Cass’s shoulder and neck and Cass felt herself flushing.
She turned around and slipped her arms around Steph’s waist. Steph grinned and kissed her and she felt her breath catch in her throat.
“Thought you just wanted to cuddle,” Cass whispered.
Steph grinned. “Yeah… I lied.”
Cass moved to kiss her again, but before she had a chance to get lost in what might have been a very romantic moment, she heard what sounded like laughter. A little boy snickering.
The two of them broke apart in time to turn around and see Damian, Chris, and Colin trying to sneak past, each carrying a bag. The snickers had come from Colin, who giggled more than the other two put together on any given day.
“What are you brats up to?” Stephanie asked, raising a brow skeptically.
“None of your business, Brown,” Damian replied defiantly.
Cass raised a brow. “What’s in the bags?”
“Just some stuff,” Chris supplied.
Colin nodded eagerly. “For later.”
Sounded suspicious. Cass walked closer to the boys and peeked inside the bags. Just as she thought – fireworks. She simply shook her head.
“They’re legal,” Damian insisted.
Stephanie sighed. “We know that Bruce passed a no firework rule.”
Damian scowled and looked like he was about ready to stomp his foot. “And it’s a stupid rule!” Then he sighed heavily and looked to Cass. “Come on. Be a good sister.”
“Oh, I’m your sister now, am I?” Cass asked, laughing. Damian wasn’t as slick as he thought he was… that might have worked on her when he first joined the family, but not now. She knew what he was up to.
Stephanie took the bags from each of the boys at that. “All right now. Where’d you even get this stuff?”
“From Dick’s room,” Chris answered. He was now getting one of Damian’s scowls.
“Go swim,” Cass told them, pointing to the door. The boys grumbled and left, and once they were out of the way the girls couldn’t help laughing.
Steph took Cass’s hand again and gave her a soft smile. “So do you suppose this is what Bruce and Clark feel like all the time?”
Cass cocked her head curiously.
“Getting interrupted in the middle of a really good moment by a bunch of obnoxious kids, I mean,” Steph answered, laughing once.
Cass laughed and gave Steph’s hand a playful squeeze. Then, eyebrow raised, she asked, “Why don’t you ask them sometime?”
“Don’t think I won’t!” Stephanie exclaimed, and they exchanged grins. Everything else aside, this was a good holiday, Cass decided.
&&&
Hours later, well after the barbecued steaks and chicken and hot dogs had been consumed, Clark leaned forward in his seat just as the fireworks show was about to begin. Bruce had gotten them tickets to the local university’s fireworks extravaganza, and they were good seats. They had a box to themselves at the stadium, but the empty seats reminded him of the fact that he and Bruce had decided to leave the boys at home.
“Stop looking,” Bruce admonished when he caught Clark glancing at the spots where Chris, Damian, and Colin should have been sitting.
Clark frowned. “Do you think we did the right thing? Leaving them behind, I mean.”
Bruce sighed. “We told them multiple times no fireworks. It was for their own safety. Yet time and again they tried to disobey that rule.”
“I know,” Clark conceded. “And you did say they could come tonight if they behaved… which they didn’t…”
“I know you haven’t dealt with children as long as I have, but you have to be firm with them,” Bruce said with some conviction. “You have to stick to your word. If you say there’s going to be a punishment, there should be.”
Clark rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. Casually stretching his arm and putting it around Bruce, he laughed once. “I suppose you’re right… about most of that, anyways. But I’ve been dealing with kids exactly as long as you have.”
“Oh, please,” Bruce laughed. “I’ve had Dick since he was nine. You’ve only been in the picture since…”
Clark cocked a brow. “Tread lightly.”
“Well,” Bruce began, shifting in his seat and seemingly searching for the way to make his point that would be least likely to result in him sleeping alone that night. “It’s just that being the favorite uncle is a bit different than being the dad.”
Clark shook his head. “Do you remember when Dick had to build that model of a medieval cathedral out of sugar cubes for school?”
Bruce sighed. “Yes…”
“Or when Jason had the mumps,” Clark added. “Or the no less than four times you pissed him off so much he turned up at my apartment?”
“I get it,” Bruce sighed. “And I’m still rather… glad you were there for all of that.”
Clark raised a brow. “But?”
“But nothing,” Bruce conceded. “It’s just sweet that you’re such a soft touch with the kids… and now that I think of it, you always have been.”
Clark smiled. “Yeah, well… you have your moments, you know?”
Bruce hummed something indistinct and tried to snuggle a little closer to Clark. They were mostly quiet for some time, and the fireworks show began. The music of John Phillips Sousa played as colorful fireworks shot off in the sky.
Eventually, Clark heard Bruce clear his throat. He wasn’t sure if that was an invitation to reopen the conversation, so he simply asked, “Hm?”
“Are you having a good Fourth of July?” he asked.
Clark smiled. The day had been busy, complicated, and though unlike the celebrations from previous years, it was also just what he was used to… because he spent it with most of the family. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s been pretty nice.”
“But you miss the boys,” Bruce supplied.
Clark eyed him and almost asked what would make him suggest that… but it would have been a silly question. He sometimes hated that Bruce could always read between the lines with him.
Obviously pleased at being right, Bruce smiled to himself and Clark laughed once. But then Bruce came close to Clark’s ear and asked, “Do you wanna go home?”
And for a number of reasons, that sounded better than seeing the rest of the show. Now was the time to enjoy the rest of his evening off at home… because holiday or not, that was the best way to spend an evening off.