I was in a pie mood this chapter. Forgive me if I give you the urge to drink hot cocoa, too.

Disclaimer: I own Gotham 89.2, but not "Let It Snow". Betty's House of Pies is from The Dark Knight's viral ad campaign (which I also do not own), while Betty herself is by-and-large my own creation. The Gabbo's/Gobbles are also mine. I own this plot.

Chapter Twenty: Joker


"…It's 7:30 on December 13th, and this is Casey John here on Gotham 89.2…"

I wake up to the sound of the radio proclaiming winter is here, ladies and gents, and I know today's going to be good.

"Better start your holiday shopping now, Gotham, before it snows!"

I get out of bed and dance over to my closet to a tune only I can hear (as always). I pull on a blue and black plaid wool shirt, buttoning it quickly. I'm going to need new buttons.

I pull on a pair of boxer-briefs that match my socks, looking at the gathering storm clouds outside. Winter's coming, and fast. It's a good thing the boys and I, ah, lightened the bank's load recently. We won't have much time for bank robberies soon—snow slows you down.

It seems to have slowed Batsy down too. That Mob meeting's still in the works—but then, the Mob is pretty big, and they've all got their plans and their schedules and their stupid time-management tables

Idiots. No wonder they're always so grumpy—they don't even have time to smile.

A cool draft slips through the room.

"Brrr." I rub my hands together and look around the room.

My toes curl in my socks. I can feel goosebumps rising on my body even though I have warm stuff on.

We need to move. Now.

I mean, the old stripper club is great in the summer—I sleep on the extra-wide windowsill with the window open and an old sofa right below so that I don't fall and break something—but in the winter…it's cold. And I hate the cold—unless, of course, the snow is nice and wet and good for all sorts of snow-related chaos. (Takes me back to the old days. Gravel-filled snowball fights, anyone?)

I'll handle the cold for Batsy's sake. Anyway, the point is…we need a new hideout. And winter stuff.

I pull on my warmest pants and get my war paint ready. I can see snowflakes falling already.

It's time to shop.

--

I walk to the garage next to our hideout, where my "carriages" await.

We have a nice collection of ve-hi-cles down here—from trucks to my new Bentley. We'll probably be using them later, once I find out where we're going to be staying.

I have two cars, now—both of them, ah, borrowed from two different antique dealers just outside of Gotham. The 1975 Chrysler (green, of course) has been through hell and back in the last year. Let's see…bank robberies, dealing with Batsy, causing property damage…yeah, the Chrysler's been good to me. But all good things must come to an end—the poor thing's falling apart.

The Bentley will take its place when the Chrysler finally croaks. It's creaking—one vowel away from total collapse.

"Don't worry, ol' pal," I reassure the Chrysler, patting it fondly, listening to it creak wearily. "We're going to have one last little joyride before you…rest."

I hop in, wait for Seymour to open the garage door (Brrrr!) and away…we…go.

--

"Oh the weather outside is frightful…" I warble, looking around at the pretty little apartment complexes all decked out for Christmas (or Hannukah, if they so choose). "And the fire is so delightful…"

But, see, I don't want an apartment. I want a house. A nice, big place where my boys and I can be comfy when the snow sets in.

I keep driving from street to street, Christmas carols blaring, the car groaning every time I hit the brake. I even have the Gotham Times with me, the "For Sale!" page open and already covered in red X's.

There has to be a place. It's not like there are only apartments in this damn city…right?

It's been about an hour since I started looking. My eyes flick toward Maloney Street, a familiar…haunt of mine. I haven't visited that little pie shop in awhile. Maybe they can help me out…

Or I'll just get some nice, warm pie in my belly. Hey, a win-win situation.

--

Betty's House of Pies is a little quiet today. It must be the snow that's falling down oh-so-softly outside…

I can't see how anyone can resist the smell of freshly baked pie, the buttery scent of the crust and aroma of coffee and hot chocolate. There's even an, ah, undercurrent of various fruits and creams and custard and all manner of mouth-watering things.

But maybe it isn't the food so much as the…hawker who's the problem.

Betty's sitting behind the counter, smoking a cigarette and looking glum—that's not what you'd expect from a sweet little pie shop owner, huh? Well, that's Gotham for you. Always full of surprises.

Her blonde hair is looking a little paler than usual, and if I look hard enough I can see a wrinkle here and there. Like the rest of this city, she's decaying one drag of smoke at a time.

Betty's eyes move toward me, then light up with something that isn't quite fear, making me grin automatically.

"Mr. J!" she cries, standing up and moving around the counter to greet me. "I haven't seen you for months! I was afraid you'd forgotten me!"

Her shop was the first place I went to when I came here. Women are talkative by nature, and since this little joint clearly had Mob connections…well. I was right at home.

I was one of the few people who actually ordered pies (everyone else wanted lame coffee), and so Betty and I grew to be a little…closer than your average customer. That lasted for about a month or two until I finally met Batsy. Then, I had to make sure Betty would be as quiet as a mouse about my visits. I didn't have to tell her twice. No, she got the point as soon as I handed her three fifties over the counter.

She's a good lady.

I laugh and pat her cheek. "Betty, Betty, Betty Merton. How could I forget you? But I don't want to leave any tracks…remember?"

Betty nods nervously and smiles. "Of course, Mr. J. You're a valued customer."

"Good girl." I look around the brightly colored, angelic little shop and eye the various Christmas decorations. "Getting into the holiday spirit, are you?"

"Of course, all the better to get customers." Betty scurries back around the counter as I sit down in my favorite seat—the second from the middle, with a good view of the street. "You'd think they'd come flocking, what with this snow."

"Well, you never know, y'know? Anyway…I'd, ah, like two slices of Holiday Eggnog cream pie. And hot chocolate." I grin and cock my head to one side. "Y'see? I'm in a festive mood too!"

"Aren't you always?" Betty disappears into the kitchen briefly before coming back with a mug of steaming hot cocoa. "I haven't seen you down yet."

I nod my thanks and take a sip. Warmth seeps down my throat to my chest. "That's because there's nothing to be down about."

Soon, my pie is served, and I dig in hungrily. Nice, big pieces, enough to keep me going all day. There's nothing quite like sweet warm pie and hot chocolate on a snowy day. In a city that's yours alone.

Well, I share it with Batsy. It's fun to have a little, ah, competition.

"So. Do you know of any places my boys and I could call home? We're…relocating. Something with…style."

Betty sits back in her chair and thinks it over. I continue eating my pie, feeling the pieces practically melt in my mouth. I'll have to drop Batsy a line—maybe this placewould help him lighten up a little.

"I can't think of any vacancies right now…at least, not suiting your taste."

I take another sip of cocoa, not blinking. Of course, being a smart girl, Betty gets the point.

"…But you could ask the Gabbo's."

I nearly spit out my drink. "The Gobbles? Do they live next to Goosey Loosey and Foxy Loxy?"

"They're the Gabbo's. Mr. Roger Gabbo and Mrs. Sally Gabbo. They're the sort of people who know everything about everybody. They're well-connected."

"Ah-ha. Good, good." I finish eating my pie and cocoa and get ready to leave. I check my pocket watch.

Betty smiles, waving goodbye, and I blow her a kiss as I walk out the door.

Such a good girl.

The snow is piling up outside, soft and white like a dusty wedding veil, and I feel a little bit of the holiday spirit coming on.

Now…time to find the Gobbles.