"Please, please don't do this. It's almost Christmas. This is the time for giving."

"You're right, it is," Fox chuckled. He spread his hand, and gestured towards the gold emblem. "So how about you give me that cross."

The priest shook his head, huddled on the floor with the gold cross stretched out behind him, as if keeping it out of their reach would be enough. Behind Fox, Shark and Vulture tittered.

Batman had faced these three goons before. The Terrible Trio, as the Press had dubbed them. Where Vulture was skin and bone with a devious mind, Shark was a muscle-bound oaf lacking in original thought. Left to their own devices, they were of little concern.

Shark would attempt robberies without a thought toward escape, and soon be apprehended. Vulture meanwhile, would have a better plan, but he lacked the courage or stupidity to carry them out. He'd team up with someone eventually, only to inevitably betray them. Either the police or his own vengeful associates would catch up to him before long.

Fox was another thing entirely. He bridged the gap between the two subordinates. He commanded Vulture's loyalty and controlled Shark's impulsiveness. Lean and agile, he was as cunning as his namesake.

Until now.

"Have you no shame?"

"Sure I have shame. I'm ashamed of supporting the Gotham Knights. They had a terrible season and lost me a lot of money. Now, I'm making recuperations."

"Big word," Batman boomed. "Did you learn it in Sunday School?"

Gliding down from the church rafters, Batman snarled at the burglars. Of all places, of all times, they chose a church. How dare they? Righteous fury burned his in heart as he ground his teeth. This time, he wouldn't go easy on them. A line had been crossed and the rules no longer mattered.

He plummeted like a mortar shell and exploded into action beside Shark. Always take out the biggest threat first. Delivering a flurry of blows, he realized this wasn't the Trio he'd fought before. Shark was still a powerhouse, but he was calmer, more restrained. He had the leaner strength of a swimmer, rather than the hulking power of his predecessor.

"Umph."

Shark also had the right jab of a boxer.

Batman sprung away as Vulture jumped in. His poise suggested training in the martial arts, a discipline favouring kicks. Fox, meanwhile, grabbed the priest, pulling him to his feet. A switchblade flicked out a cut a crimson thread into the skin of the Father's throat.

"Come any closer," he said. "Well… I think it goes without saying, don't you?"

Batman relaxed his arms and his cape slid back into place, covering him like a death shroud. Shark and Vulture back up to re-join their fearless leader. Somehow, Batman found it an extra insult that they had impersonated former enemies. And now, Fox threatened the life of a man of the cloth. A man who had dedicated his life to doing good works.

Beneath the cape, his fists clenched tighter.

"What now?" Batman asked.

Fox hesitated, looking around as if there might be answer somewhere in the church, painted in the stained-glass windows, or whispered among the pews. Perhaps there was one answer, one course of action left to him.

Pray.

"You let us walk out of here, with the loot," Fox said, barely managing not to stutter. "And we let the priest go. Once we're far enough away."

"That's not going to happen."

Fox swallowed hard. "Sure it is. Unless you want me to kill him?"

"You're not a killer."

"Forget the priest, dude," Vulture drawled. "We don't need no hostage. We can take him."

"Yeah. He's just one guy."

Fox shook his head. He wasn't as smart as Warren had been, but he knew better than his compatriots. Unfortunately for him, he also lacked Warren's cunning and leadership skills. It was only a matter of time before his boys attacked. And then, the cowardly fox would run.

"You've heard the stories. If even half are true, we don't stand a chance."

"Ah, forget you man," Vulture snapped, pulling a blade of his own.

Shark followed suit, and the two thugs charged, knives at the ready. Batman lurched forward to meet them, bellowing angrily as he struck. He grabbed Vulture's left hand and right shoulder and used him as a springboard to deliver a spinning kick to Sharks ribs. Softened by the earlier blows, the ribs crack immediately and Shark went sprawling to the ground.

As part of the same motion, Batman flipped Vulture in the air and threw him into the pews. The impact echoed around the empty church.

Fox's eyes grew wide. The blade slowly lowered, allowing the priest to breathe easier. Soon, Fox would give up, but surrender wasn't an option. Not tonight. Not here. Batman wouldn't let it be that easy.

The batarang flew straight for Fox and bit deep into his hand. A yelp escaped his lips as the knife clattered to the floor, and he looked frantically for another way out. But there was no escape. The priest pulled away from his clutches and sank to the floor by the altar, muttering a prayer as he clink his rosary beads.

With purposeful stride, Batman approached the gang leader. Behind the mask, his eyes darted to and fro, his tongue snaking out over his lips. Shark and Vulture were getting back to their feet. Desperate, Fox issued the only order he could think of with any chance of success.

"If we attack all at once, we can overpower him," he said, not at all convincingly. "Now!"

Vulture leapt over the pews, as Shark surged forward from the other side and Fox lunged from in front. Effortlessly, Batman palmed both Vulture and Shark, crunching their noses. Blood spurted from each as they howled. Then, a chop to the throat immobilized Fox as he coughed and struggled for air.

At this time of year, Batman often elected to go easier on crooks than usual. First time offenders, like these three (as far as he knew, at least) he often humiliated, but left unharmed and at times, depending on the crime, unreported. For the more violent, reoccurring perpetrators, he took measures to avoid breaking limbs or making Christmas dinner a chore.

For these three, he held no such reservations.

"The Christmas story is supposed to be about three wise men who brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh," he narrated, feeling oddly reflective. "Instead, all I see is three mad fools..."

Gloved hands found purchase in Fox's hair, and Batman swung him around and smashed his head into the nearest pew. The wood cracked and splintered. Blood pooled, leaving a red stain. He'd be concussed, at least.

"Out cold," Batman listed.

Vulture clawed at him, his nose still streaming. Batman ducked and responded in kind, once again sending the masked hooligan tumbling into the rows behind.

"Out of sense," Batman said. He turned to the doubled over figure of Shark and brought his knee up brutally between the bulky crook's legs. "And, finally."

"Murrhh…"

Shark dropped to the floor. Releasing his anger, Batman approached the Father. His eyes were wide with fear, his lower lips trembling as he whispered in a frenzied manner, clicking his beads faster by the second. As the Batman approached, he shuffled farther away, still on the ground.

"…deliver us from evil…"

The words stung, and only then did he see the irony of all he'd done. To be so incensed by their disrespect that he had beaten three men in a house of God. It was almost an act of sacrilege in itself. And now the Father looked upon him as if he were a demon.

He supposed he looked the part. All he had done to instil fear in the hearts of criminals, had been just as effective at terrifying innocents. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was truly on a righteous path. Or had he, too, lost his way in darkness.

"What do you want of me?" The priest simpered, his prayer finished.

"Nothing," Batman growled, habitually. Then he softened his voice. "Except, your forgiveness."

Later, as the Bat returned to stalk Gotham's dark skyline, the priest stood in the doorway to the church and crossed himself. The police would soon arrive to take the Terrible Trio into custody. The Father shook his head in disbelief, still unable to come to terms with the night's events.

"God truly does work in mysterious ways."