Christmas in Blüdhaven: Half-Measures
by Smitty
"I love it when a plan comes together," Kon announced around the candy cane tucked in the corner of his mouth.
A full map of Blüdhaven hung in Tim and Cass's living room. Kon had taken up residence on the couch and the map shared what living space he used. Red pins indicated the Salvation Army posts around town, and little black flags showed where they had nabbed would-be pilferers. Red flags warned of potential targets. Blue flags pointed out the two dingy buildings they had under surveillance. Patrol routes were mapped out in multi-colored highlighter, swooping around the city in elaborate clover-leaf patterns.
"How many?" Cass asked, perching on the back of the couch and nibbling at the middle of a slice-n-bake cookie. Kon had burned the outer edges.
"Seven robberies interrupted, nine robbers caught, and seven hundred thirty-three dollars and twenty-seven cents -- mostly in change -- recovered. I'd say we're making a dent in the criminal element 'round these parts. And that, my friends, calls for another cookie."
Cass passed Kon the plate but before he could choose among the least-scorched of the batch, the slam of a bedroom door echoed. Cass twisted around.
Tim was gone.
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.