Disclaimer: DC owns all these characters and WB owns DC and Time Warner owns WB and I'm pretty sure the rest of the world.
Author notes: If you have read my fic "Ultimate Betrayal", you'll note that I said it was my second piece of fiction ever. You may have wondered, "Well, where's the first?" This is it. I submitted it for a Christmas contest in 2005. According to the rules, it had to be under 500 words so it's just a little drabble. I didn't win, but it opened up the world of writing to me and brought about the meeting of my beta and very good friend RisqueSno. Later that year, I submitted "What Day Is It?" for a Valentine's contest and did win that one, so I like to think I've improved. I thought about altering this piece based on what I've gathered from my writing experience this year, but I think I'd rather present it as it was. Here it is: my first story and so fitting of the season.
Christmas Company
"The holidays make me feel all tingling inside!"
God! Was it that time of year again already? Harley was always impossible to tolerate during the holidays. I mean, she was always annoying, but during Christmas she was unendurable.
He remembers what it was like before Harley crashed into his life. He would typically spend this time of year calling in debts. It was always more funny to harass people for the money he was due when you knew they couldn't pay. And how the streets would line with victims! This was literally the case. They were everywhere! Streets, stores, and airports where simply chock full of cattle that he could use to torment the Bat.
Yes, the holidays used to be enjoyable. Now, every year it just consisted of Harley driving him more insane than he already was. He already knew what to expect from her. "Puddin, can we get a tree?" "Puddin, we should decorate. It's so gloomy in here." "Puddin, we should let the boys have a few days off. It is Christmas." Not to mention the constant "Whatcha get me? Whatcha get me?"
Hell, she was doing it right now. Of course, all he could really hear was "blah blah blah" at this point. None of it was funny. It was exactly what the rest of the world did and he was not one of the sheep. He was the butcher. The thought of the citizens of Gotham being lined up for the slaughter made him laugh. At this, Harley bounded up to him.
"Oh pudding, I knew you'd get in the spirit of things! Look sweetie, I've got the mistletoe."
Why didn't she get it? It was infuriating really. How could she have spent so much time with him and Still. Not. Get. It. He snatched the mistletoe angrily from her hand and quickly tied it to his belt. "There you go baby! Pucker up!" At this, they both fell to the floor laughing. Of course they were. He was hilarious and always thought he was best at improv.
Harley crawled into his lap still giggling a bit. She may not get it all the time, but she's the closest that has ever come to getting him. If he has to spend the holidays with someone, at least it's her.
END