Christmas in Blüdhaven: Another Miracle on 34th Street
by Smitty
He shouldn't have gone out alone.
He could hear that thought bouncing around in his head, taking on various voices he wasn't in the mood to hear.
He shouldn't have gone out alone. He shouldn't have gone out to face Blüdhaven without backup. And now he was paying for it.
He spun his bo steadily, dancing around in a circle, but he was surrounded and there were a lot of them. For the first time ever, he wished for a Blüdhaven police cruiser to happen by.
"Hey! You leave that boy be!" The voice was joined by others and Tim nearly dropped his bo in disbelief.
People were marching on the street, people with baseball bats and lamp bases, and tire irons. Dozens of people, all armed with household items and they looked angry. Tim's attackers glanced at each other and backed off, disappearing into shadows and alleys.
"Um. Thanks," Tim said, feeling extraordinarily lame.
"Ain't no big thing," said the man leading the pack. "You and your friends do us a good turn, we got your back."
Tim blinked. He knew why the man looked familiar. He knew why the all looked familiar.
They were the Salvation Army Santas.
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.