Christmas in Blüdhaven: Toy Soldiers
by Smitty
Batgirl lay in wait. She prowled the rooftops, attention fixed on the bell-jangling man below. He wore a red suit and white beard, the badge of Blüdhaven's elite. Or rather, elitely protected.
"All right, Pops. Empty the kettle."
Batgirl was in motion before the words left the attacker's mouth. She'd recognized the aggression in the man's posture as he approached the hapless Santa and acted on instinct. She slammed her boot into his shoulder and spun for a biting rabbit punch to the chest. Robin's bo, a flash in the dark, slapped his wrist, knocking the gun he'd held to her feet. She knew from experience and from the way it hung limp, that the crook's hand would be numb for a good half hour yet. She pushed the gun away with her foot and watched Robin shove the robber up against the storefront.
"Talk," Robin demanded, the bo pressed up under the man's chin. "We want every detail about this little snatch and grab ring you guys have going. Names. Addresses. The works. You've terrorized this town long enough."
"And make it fast," Superboy added, pulling off his Santa beard and rubbing irritably at his chin. "This thing itches."
Author's Note: Christmas in Blüdhaven is written in the same general style as Jingle Bells, my attempt to write 24 200-word ficlets--one per day until Christmas, sort of like an Advent calendar--with characters from around the DCU. Christmas in Blüdhaven differs, however, by each of the ficlets being loosely linked and progressing toward a greater conclusion. The title was derived from the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Christmas in Sarajevo" because everything and everyone in Blüdhaven is currently something of a wreck.