He hung upside down by his foot from the Pruitt building. His purple coat, along with his greasy, green tinged hair flapped around his head in the dark night sky. He swung about laughing wildly. Laughing at the priceless look on the Batman's face when he told him what he'd done to Gotham's "White Knight." Laughing at all the chaos he had successfully caused in the city below him. Laughing at the horrible pain in his ankle that had the grappling rope attached to it that he was almost sure was broken, which only made him laugh harder. Laughing at the cuts the Batman's little shooting scallop blades had managed to slice into him when he'd fired them at him.

He watched the Batman disappear into the dark and laughed even more. How very nice of the Bat to just leave him hanging around. He swung wildly back and forth waving his arms, enjoying the cool Gotham night air; breathing in the scent of fear and defeat below him. He felt himself being tugged down slowly by unseen hands. Of course the Bat would have his little police and SWAT buddies cleaning up after his mess. He laughed a deep almost choking laugh just thinking about how they'd probably just cart him off to Arkham now. After all, that was the only logical thing to do with psychos like him right?

The pathetic morons of Gotham knew nothing. They'd all feel safe and sound with him locked up tight in Arkham. They would all feel like the madness was gone because he was off the streets and they'd be able to breathe again, but they'd be wrong wouldn't they? Madness never really went away. Not here. Locking him up would solve nothing for them. It wouldn't make them any safer than they were now. It only meant that someone else would have the chance to come out and play for a while.

The thought of going to Arkham didn't really bother him. He figured it would give him the chance to really think while the narrow minded people of Gotham let themselves be lulled into a false sense of security. Plus, he had always liked a challenge. What better challenge was there after bringing Gotham to its knees in chaos than to find his way out of Arkham Asylum?

He closed his eyes and smiled as the unknown hands dragged him through a broken area of the floor to ceiling windows of the building. He felt the hands tugging at the grapple that had wrapped securely around his ankle. After a few moments of tugging the hands disappeared and he dropped to the floor on the inside of the building, landing hard on his back with a thud. He laughed slightly. So the GCPD and SWAT had taken a lesson from Batman and decided they liked to play rough too, huh? Oh, this city never failed to make him laugh.

He placed his arms above his head in a show of surrender, his tongue grazing over the surface of his mangled lips. "No need to, uh, play it rough, boys. You got me. Go ahead and cart me off to your little, uh, playpen for freaks."

He waited to hear a witty remark or for more show of strength to ensue, but nothing happened. They didn't even bother to slap the cuffs on him. What kind of police were they?

He opened his eyes and searched around the room quickly. He could still see the bright lights searching around the outside of the building, but he didn't see a single sign of cops anywhere around him. He didn't see anyone, but knew that he wasn't alone.

"Aren't we a little old to be playing peek-a-boo, Bats?"

"Shhh."

He heard the hiss like whisper come softly out of the shadows. Definitely not the Batman. He sat up, straining to find where the voice had come from, but saw nothing.

"They're looking for you and they will find you if you don't be quiet and trust me."

The voice was definitely female. This was certainly intriguing now. He didn't make another sound, save for smacking his lips together while he arched his eyebrows in amusement. This was going to be good.

"Can you stand on that ankle?"

Good question. He used his arms and good leg to push himself up off the cold ground to stand. He put all his weight on his bad ankle and tried to stifle a small, deep groan that rose in his throat involuntarily as he winced at the pain. It was no good.

He felt a hand tug on his arm and heard her soft whisper behind him, making the hair on his neck and arms stand on end. "That's what I thought. You'll just have to lean on me, then."

Before she even knew what was happening he had grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, slamming her back first into the wall next to him, grunting slightly when he was forced to put pressure back on his ankle. He held her wrist against the wall with one hand and had her by the throat with the other. His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath falling on her face.

He kept his voice low and deep. "Might have a little problem with that, doll. Didn't anyone ever tell you that, uh, you shouldn't trust strangers, hm?"

He watched her face closely. Her emerald green eyes stared back at him while a small smile crept across her face. The wind blew strands of her blonde hair across her face and onto his purple gloves and he loosened his grip on her throat.

"It's your choice, really. You can either let them find you or you can trust me to get you out of here."

He narrowed his eyes at her and ran his tongue along his red painted lips and nodded. "Tell me, beautiful, why should I trust you?"

Before she was able to reply the sound of many hard footsteps and voices could be heard from the floor above them. She watched as his dark eyes shot up towards the ceiling, recognizing the noise, knowing they were getting closer and coming for him. She watched his eyes shift back to hers, narrowing again as his painted face hardened into an unreadable expression.

She whispered softly, holding his cold, dark eyes with her own. "It's me or them. Your choice, but I'd pick soon if I was you."

He glanced up at the ceiling again, weighing his options, and then let his eyes fall back to hers. After all the chaos and mayhem he had caused he was almost comfortable with the idea of going to Arkham, but this woman pinned in his grasp in front of him obviously had other plans for him. He inhaled deeply, smelling her sweet, almost citrus scent mixing with the scent of fear and chaos from the city outside. It was intoxicating. He licked his lips, almost tasting the scents and grinned wide at the woman. Arkham could fucking wait.

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-AUTHOR'S NOTE-

I'm not sure where I'm going with this yet, but the idea and everything popped into my head and I had to write it down, because I enjoyed it that much. I've learned that it's best to write ideas like this down, especially when they come in detailed form like this did, because you never know what will come out of it. Angel started this way and Just Like Christmas was definitely one of these instances. Thought I would just go ahead and post it in case I decide to take this somewhere, because I can see potential for it to grow into something interesting and enjoyable to write and hopefully read, too. It definitely is a possibility for my new/next fic, but I've got to finish Angel first. Let me know what you think. Reviews would be lovely. : )

UPDATE 8/20/09- I will be working on this as my next fic. It has shaped up to be a sequel to Angel. I have decided to take a small writing hiatus, but plan to pick my purple pen and notebook back up starting in September so sometime in the beginning/middle of September I hope to have another chapter up for this and I plan to do a lot of writing in the fall. It's my favorite time of year and it tends to be the season during which I am most creative so I love to write a lot in the fall. Thank you to all who have added this to your favorites and story alerts. I hope the wait is worth it and I hope you continue to enjoy this story. I'm very excited about the prospects of it.

See you in September! : )

Yours Truly,
foxotr