The Bergduffs Christmas Day delivery service arrived earlier than Harley would have liked – there was a loud knock on the front door around sunrise. In the halfway state between sleeping and waking, she merely sighed and rolled over in bed, throwing her arm around what she supposed were the hyenas next to her. But instead of fur, she felt fabric, and then a warm arm reaching around to embrace hers.

"That'll be your coat," muttered the Joker, who was lying next to her with his eyes shut.

"Mmm, too early," agreed Harley. "Just leave it there."

"If the coat's been delivered, that means Batsy's surprise will be delivered soon too," murmured Joker. "I gotta get up and go to work…"

"No, stay, puddin'," murmured Harley, clinging on to him as she suddenly remembered the giant mess she had made of things, and just wanting to lie quietly in bed with the man she loved before he got murderous. It would be a long time before he would lie in bed with her like this again once he found out what she had done – Mr. J didn't forgive people easily.

He grunted but didn't move, and Harley tentatively cuddled her body against his. "Merry Christmas, puddin'," she murmured, kissing him softly on the lips.

He sighed, embracing her. "Merry Christmas, kiddo," he murmured.

Harley listened to his heartbeat, trying to savor the moment. She felt tears come to her eyes involuntarily, and tried to wipe them away, but Joker noticed.

"Why are you crying?" he asked. "You're supposed to be merry on Christmas – I literally just said that."

"No reason," she said. "I'm just really happy right now, that's all. They're tears of joy, Mr. J."

"I guess those are allowed," he agreed, kissing the top of her head.

Harley cuddled against him, trying to appreciate this rare moment of affection, but her nagging worries intruded. "Puddin', seeing as it's Christmas," began Harley. "Which is a time of forgiveness, after all, do you think if people do bad things today, that they should be forgiven?"

"I dunno – I ain't Jesus," retorted Joker. "Though I can see how you might confuse the two of us. What bad things are you thinking of doing?"

"Just hypothetically," said Harley. "Would you forgive someone for doing something bad on Christmas Day?"

Joker opened his eyes to look at her. "This is you wanting sex, isn't it?" he asked. "This is you leading up to it by saying you're going to do a bad thing, which is me. It's the weirdest dirty talk I've ever heard, Harley, and that ain't a compliment…"

"It's not dirty talk," interrupted Harley. "It's a genuine question. Would you forgive someone for doing a bad thing today?"

Joker shrugged. "I don't really see bad things as being in need of forgiveness. I guess it would all depend on what the thing is. I don't have hard and fast rules for life – I'm not Batman. Who I don't think will be in the mood to forgive me for his Christmas present!" he chuckled.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I gotta talk to you about," began Harley. "See…when I returned my coat to the store…I might have…that is, they might have…that is…the labels on the boxes you gave them might have gotten…mixed-up."

Joker stared at her. "What do you mean mixed-up?" he asked.

"I mean, the store might have…" She sighed, and took a deep breath."I might have…because I didn't want you killing Harvey with the bomb you were sending him, so I might have…changed the labels around and then…mixed-up which boxes went where."

He just looked at her. "Please, puddin', I just didn't want one of our oldest friends blown up on Christmas!" exclaimed Harley. "And if he had died, Red would have been mad, and she would have come after you, so I'd have had to kill her, and I don't wanna do that, and Harvey didn't really do anything wrong by just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I really think the insult was blown right outta proportion, and…"

He clapped a hand over her mouth to stop her babbling. "You mean one of the parcels I returned to the store was just delivered here, and you don't know which one?" he murmured.

She nodded. "That means it's outside now!" exclaimed Joker. He leapt out of bed and raced to the door. Harley just lay there, completely miserable, expecting an explosion, and then a punishment.

But neither came. She sat up slowly. "Puddin'?" she called. "Did you get rid of the bomb?"

In response, Joker slowly re-entered the room, carrying the box. He tossed it onto the bed in front of her. "Open it," he commanded, sternly.

"But puddin', it's probably one of the bombs…" began Harley.

"Open it!" he repeated, louder. Harley nodded slowly, undoing the ribbon with trembling fingers. She took a deep breath, and then removed the lid, preparing for oblivion…

But it never came. She heard a small bang and opened her eyes to a spray of confetti, and a little Joker figure which popped out of the box on a spring. It was holding a sign which read Merry Christmas, Ya Filthy Animal! A mechanism inside the box was playing Jingle Bells, which must have been the ticking sound Harley had heard. And the inside of the box was filled with candy.

"It was a joke," Joker said, in response to Harley's confused staring. "When the confetti goes bang and the little Joker-in-the-box pops out, Harvey was gonna freak out thinking I sent him a bomb. But it isn't a bomb – it's a little music box that plays a Christmas song and some Twix, which is Harvey's favorite candy, because there's two of them. Of course by that point he's had a mini-heart attack, and he won't eat the Twix thinking I've poisoned them, but I haven't. The joke is I sent him a nice gift on Christmas Day, even after he insulted me, but he's too paranoid to appreciate it. He wouldn't be expecting me to be nice like that. But I like to think I can still surprise people, even you, it would seem."

"Puddin'…" stammered Harley, surprised and relieved. "Then…it wasn't a bomb…what about Batsy's?"

"His is the same, only I don't know Batsy's favorite candy, so I just got him licorice. He seems like the kinda guy who'd like licorice," said Joker, shrugging. "And he hates Jingle Bells because of my Batman Smells version, so that'll annoy him like he deserves to be annoyed on Christmas Day, the miserable jerk."

"Oh God, puddin'!" sobbed Harley, bursting into tears. "Why didn't you tell me…"

"Why didn't you trust me?" he demanded. "I make these genius schemes for Christmas, and then you go and mess them all up! And your reward for doing that is not getting your coat! I hope you learned your lesson about interfering in my plans, Harley! And I hope you're happy to be getting nothing on Christmas Day!"

The phone rang at that moment, and Joker went to answer it. Harley honestly did feel happy, and relieved more than anything else, that everything had worked out all right. She wiped her eyes and helped herself to a Twix. "I can't even be mad that I'm not getting my coat," she said to herself. "I can always go steal another one. And I won't even feel bad ripping off the store after their appalling customer service toward me."

She was surprised when Joker re-entered the bedroom, chuckling madly to himself. "Something funny, puddin'?" she asked.

She was even more surprised when he suddenly seized her and kissed her passionately. "You little minx!" he exclaimed. "You got me the best Christmas present ever!"

"Oh…yeah?" stammered Harley, confused. "What's that?"

"Harvey got the mink coat!" giggled Joker. "That was him on the phone yelling at me for insulting him by buying him a girl's coat for Christmas! He said he knew it was me who sent it because nobody else would find juvenile humor like that funny! And I told him that's what he gets for throwing insults like a girl, and then I hung up! He'll be fuming for days from that burn! Probably the second-worst burn he's ever received in his life, after the whole face thing, of course. Who would have guessed your incessant meddling would work out great? Not me, that's for sure! It's a Christmas miracle!"

He kissed her again, and Harley was still too stunned to respond. But not for long. "So I guess I'll need to do another bad thing on Christmas Day, huh?" she purred.

"Well, you'll need something to warm you up since you can't have your coat," murmured Joker, grinning at her.

"Don't be too naughty, puddin' – Santa is watching," murmured Harley.

"I'll bet he is!" chuckled Joker. "And I'm gonna be on his naughty list forever for the stuff I'm gonna do to you!"

"Oh, puddin'!" gasped Harley, excitedly, as she pulled him down on top of her.

Bud and Lou, who had been exiled to the living room when Joker had come to bed, raised their heads at the familiar noises coming from the bedroom. They shared a look, and then went to the kitchen to see if they had any food in their bowls for breakfast. Finding them empty, and smart enough to realize that their owners would be preoccupied for quite some time, they looked for food elsewhere.

The trash can was full of the scraps from Christmas Eve dinner (which had been Chinese takeout again, at the Joker's insistence), and the hyenas began feasting on these, unaware of the amount of bacteria that had been propagating among these scraps while they had been in the trash, and which would necessitate another emergency visit to the vet. But that was a problem for later, as was Two-Face's revenge for the insult, and Batman's constant vendetta against them. Christmas was all about focusing on the magical, brief moments of happiness, the short time of the year when the cares and worries of the world would melt away, and joy and love would reign supreme. And so, that year at least, Harley Quinn experienced the true meaning of Christmas.

The End