So, this is the third time I've tried to get this story uploaded. I keep failing to actually get it up with regular updates, but I'm determined this time around. For those that read it before, early chapters have been edited a little (improved?), so are worth reading.

This is basically a little bit of action-packed Christmas fun. Enjoy!

T'was the day before Christmas, and all through the tower, the Titans were practising their stupendous powers...

Apart from Robin who didn't have any.

Robin threw one last punch at the heavy, leather bag dangling from the ceiling. It flew backwards, chain rattling, and hurtled back towards him. He dodged last minute then stepped away to let its momentum slow to a gentle swing and finally stillness. Robin puffed twice, out of breath from exertion. Around him, his team mates were still exercising: Beast Boy was swinging from a high set of bars, switching to a different animal with every leap; Raven was levitating a set of heavy blocks hurling with her powers; Starfire and Cyborg were weight-lifting.

Robin checked the clock above the door: 7pm. "All right, team," he called. Gradually, the other titans stopped what they were doing to look over at him. "That's enough for today."

Beast Boy grinned – an odd look for a baboon – and flipped down from the bars, transforming back into a human as he landed. "Finally! Time to make my famous egg-free, butter-free gingerbread cookies!"

"As long as you don't expect us to eat any of them," Cyborg said, grimacing at the thought of vegan gingerbread. "Keep to one half of the kitchen; I gotta prep the turkey for tomorrow's dinner."

Beast Boy pulled a face as the two of them made their way out of the training room and up to the kitchen. "Dude! I've been a turkey! He was probably one of my friends!" he cried.

"Since when did you spend your time hanging with turkeys?"

"Uh..."

Within ten minutes, Cyborg and Beast Boy were elbows deep in uncooked turkey and flour respectively. Meanwhile, Robin, Starfire and Raven settled down in front of the television to watch a documentary about frostbite and amputation – Starfire's choice.

They had just reaching a particularly gruesome segment – a doctor was scraping away a layer of purple skin to reveal brown, gooey flesh underneath – when the alarm suddenly went off.

"Titans, trouble!" Robin said, leaping to his feet. They rushed over to the computer where Cyborg quickly tapped a few buttons.

"At Parry's Orchard, just outside town," he said. "Don't know how serious it is and it's freezing outside. Should we take the car?"

Robin nodded. "Let's go."

The group rushed down to the car – Raven was already buckled in the back seat, having transported straight there – and clambered inside. Cyborg carefully climbed into the front and started up the engine.

Usually, it would take fifteen minutes to drive, but with the empty roads and Robin jiggling his knee impatiently in the passenger seat, Cyborg managed to make it in seven, only breaking the speed limit a few times along the way.

They expected the perpetrators to be a bunch of young miscreants who'd broken into the brewery for some free perry and the opportunity to cause mischief. However, when they arrived and burst through the old, wooden doors, having found the pear orchards free of mayhem, the Titans were surprised to find Billy Numerous running amok.

And several of his clones.

"Lookie here, Billy!" Billy cried, rolling around the room on a barrel of freshly-made perry.

"Nice one, Billy!" Billy replied from the top of a mountain of boxes, stamped with the brewery's logo. "How's them pears, Billy?"

Two Billys, ripping open bags bulging with pears, wiped fruit juice from their mouths and gave a thumbs up. "They taste like fruit, Billy," one said.

"Dee-sgusting!" said the other. They dropped half-eaten pears back into the bags, cackling. "Lookin' good, Billy!" they called to another Billy.

"Thanks, Billy!" Billy grinned, force-feeding Parry Partridge, the orchard owner, another rotten pear as another Billy used Parry's bald head as a bongo.

"Hey, Billy." Billy frowned, drawing the bottle of perry away from his mouth. "This is the weirdest apple juice I ever had."

"That's 'cause it ain't apple juice, Billy," answered Billy. "It's pear juice."

"Alco-holic pear juice," Billy added.

"Drop the booze, Billy. This party's over." Robin and the rest of the Titans stood in the doorway, mouths set in unamused straight lines. The Billys looked up in alarm, expressions of horror on their faces, and simultaneously they gulped.

Before head Billy could think up some witty retort, Beast Boy had transformed into a bull and rammed into his stomach. Billy smashed into a stack of barrels which burst upon impact and sprayed everyone with cold perry.

Raven began picking up empty barrels and slamming them down on the Billys whilst Starfire wrenched the distillation tank from the wall and swung it at another group of clones. It sailed through the air and pinned the villains against the wall.

Meanwhile, Robin was picking off clones one-by-one with several well-aimed karate kicks and punches. For every body that went down, more would gather around like lemmings to a brightly-dressed cliff face, jeering and hooting until they were swiftly silenced. Behind them, Cyborg blasted away remaining Billys with his sonic cannon.

For the next few minutes the Titans beat the jingle bells out of Billy Numerous. It was an easy job as he wasn't the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, and he was without the support of the H.I.V.E. Five. Soon, they had whittled the army of clones down to the original – slightly tipsy – Billy, who Starfire had chucked into a crate and now sat and on top to keep him in.

The police arrived a short while later, their sirens and flashing lights disrupting the peacefully dark night outside as they skidded to a halt on the grass. Robin explained the situation to the officer in charge – Sgt. Miller – as Starfire to carried the crate containing Billy to the police car.

"Schools may have broken up for the holiday, but criminal scum bags sure haven't," Sgt. Miller commented. "Thanks for your help, Titans. Merry Christmas!"

Robin didn't reply. He watched coldly as, with a series of slams, the officers disappeared into their cars. They were soon speeding away down the dark country road towards the golden glimmer of Jump City.

"It's strange that Billy should be working on his own," Robin mused as his team mates gathered around him. "The H.I.V.E. Five are probably up to something."

Cyborg's arm flipped open with a series of beeps. "I'll run a check on the security systems of the banks, museums and high end stores in Jump, check for any breeches or anomalies," he said, pressing a series of buttons. "If they are up to something, they would have been breaking in whilst Billy was distracting us here."

A strange mumbling sounded from the brewery. Followed by a scratching. A moan. A growl. A thud. The door shook. Robin and Raven exchanged confused frowns before cautiously approaching the door with the other Titans. It suddenly burst open to reveal a perry-drenched, rope-bound, grumpy old man.

"You teenage hooligans!" the man warbled. "Look what you've done to my brewery! It's been in my family for three generations and you've destroyed it! Get off of my property, you hoodlums! If I find you around here again, I'll have you arrested for trespassing!"

And with that he hopped back inside, grumbling bitterly all the way.

"Huh, I thought he'd be more grateful," Beast Boy commented after the resounding bang of the door being slammed in their faces had faded.

"Maybe if we'd found and untied him," Raven pointed out drily.

Beast Boy pouted. "I didn't know he was in there!"

"We didn't even get any free perry," Cyborg complained, marching back towards the T-car, frown illuminated by the glow of his arm-screen. "It would've gone great with my turkey."

Starfire blinked slowly, looking between her other teammates as they clambered back into the vehicle. "I do not understand this obsession with fermented juices of fruits and other produce," she said.

"It's a type of drink that makes people feel better about themselves," Raven explained.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up. "Like the celebratory brew of fnargorf?"

"...Yeah."

Someone, somewhere, was sitting and smirking.

It had begun.

This chapter's title is from Clement Clarke Moore's 'A Visit from St. Nicholas' (1823)