It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year...

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

An out-of-towner wouldn't know that it's December in San Francisco, much less that there are only two shopping weeks until Christmas. There isn't a speck of snow to be seen, and the temperature is in the mid-fifties with a light breeze blowing down Market Street, swirling through the Union Square Shopping District. All the hallmarks of the Christmas shopping season, however, are in full force, with large wreathes hanging from light posts, Christmas muzak being pumped through the speakers in front of almost every store in the area, and the enormous tree situated in the middle of the Square.

Then, of course, there are the crowds.

Fathers and mothers and children and teenagers and grandparents. The list goes on. Families with one kid, two kids, half a dozen. This was the part of the holidays that Grant really wasn't too big on. He doesn't mind the muzak - in fact, he actually rather enjoys Christmas music - or even the laborious process of shopping. Children, really, don't bother him either. He'd only just visited a children's hospital and he and Flamebird had both agreed that it was a great experience. But the huge crush of people milling about, jostling one another, parents chasing down an errant child. He can handle fighting super villains, but a stampede of wild shoppers is rather terrifying.

Still, he was determined to get something nice for Mar'i. She had been informed by Nightwing that her former lover, Ibn, had returned, apparently from the dead - only he hadn't bothered to contact her directly or even leave her a message. Grant and Mar'i had talked about it and he'd been rather pleased - and not a little surprised - that she still wanted to date him. Not that he wouldn't have gotten her something before, but now, Grant wants to make her present particularly special.

Walking through the shopping district, wearing a light jacket to ward off the brief gusts of wind, Grant moves along slowly, looking at each of the shop fronts, a small frown resting on his features. "This is harder than I thought..." he says to no one in particular.

Comments

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

Grant resists the urge to take a small step back. He isn't used to having someone that close to him, nor has he been kissed by a Leaguer before. But he stands his ground, actually leaning a little closer so that he can hear her better.

"Oh...I..." Grant doesn't have a clue what she might actually add to the roses, but the proposal comment comes across loud and clear. And, much as she predicted, he is blushing, although maybe not quite as strongly as she had expected or hoped for.

"Uh...no, it's...it's not like that. We only just started dating..." Grant feebly explains, his voice quiet.

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

She giggles and hip bumps him again. "I was teasing. But honestly, the roses and the mistletoe should be fine for now."

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

A wide smile breaks over his face at the hip bump and the giggle. Like so many of the other heroes of late, she's been nice to him, helpful, friendly. For whatever reason, he still can't quite believe he's deserving of this kind of attention, but he isn't going to complain. One thing he knows for certain, Bea is a lot of fun, even if she's also really confusing.

"Alright," he replies, nodding to her. Grant glances down at the presents, then turns to look at Bea once more. "You heading back to Gotham then?"

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

She shrugs with a smile, looking around the Square.

"Yeah, I think so. I've done as much damage here as I could." She gives him a sly look. "No pun intended." Giggle.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

"That's alright. I've made that one a few times myself and done it on purpose," Grant replies, a tight smile resting on his lips. He turns his gaze to follow hers, looking over the crowd, the lights, the wreathes, the tree. It's starting to get a little darker out.

Glancing down at the packages in his arms, Grant turns and looks at Bea again, one eyebrow raised. "Uh...you going to be able to get all these back to Gotham by yourself?" he asks.

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

She starts taking bags and packages back from him with a wry smirk. "Maybe. Hopefully. Otherwise, someone over Kansas will have an early mystery present in their yard."

She chuckles with a muffled oof.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

The Titan lifts his hands to steady the pile of packages and bags that Bea now has cradled in her arms, the grin remaining just as wide as she chuckles. "Alright," Grant replies with a nod. There is a brief glance down at his shoes and a slight shuffling of his feet, but his dark eyes lift quickly to meet her gaze, a warm if awkward smile on his face.

"Thanks for everything, Bea," Grant replies. "Merry Christmas." There, it's stupid, but he said it. She'll probably laugh. Or bump him with her hip again. Or something. But he really is glad he ran into her nonetheless and isn't sure what he can do to properly thank her - although she'd seemed rather pleased with that kiss.

[flame-of-green.livejournal.com]

Her smile is more genuine this time and a lot less cocky. "Você é bem-vindo, menino do açúcar. Feriados Felizes."

She doesn't laugh, or hip bump him again. But she does give him a little kiss on the cheek.

She smiles again as she backs up, then it turns into that self confident grin and he gets another wink before she ignites her fire and takes off for home with another wave.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

He really wishes he spoke Portuguese, but whatever she said, it sounded nice. And he's pretty sure that last part means something like "Happy Holidays." Maybe not. Bea's reaction surprises him almost as that first kiss had. Instead of a full on smooch, Grant gets a very chaste peck on the cheek.

He doesn't say anything as Bea steps back, waving to him, grinning and winking, then igniting her fire and lifting into the air. Instead, he just stands there, jaw a little slack. Close your mouth, you moron...He closes his mouth.

Looking up into the air as Fire rises, Grant smiles, watching as she streaks off into the night, a trail of brilliantly glowing green fire following her in wake. "A card...I have to get her a card..." he says to no one in particular, looking over at the Christmas tree again. Grant turns and heads north toward Market Street and home, whistling to himself.

There'll be much mistletoeing and hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near! It's the most wonderful time of the year!