Bygones

Chapter 9

The day before the cocktail party, Sunday evening, saw Harley and Alfred pulling out box after box of Christmas decorations. The holiday had arrived, and the two were determined to make Wayne Manor festive. Somehow between a moody teenage girl and Bruce, who decided to wear the mantle of Grinch, the duo managed to light up the place.

They began early Saturday morning, dragging items from storage rooms and the attic loft. Crashes, bangs, thuds, and clatters woke the man of the house, who had a long night of fighting crime. Common criminals looking to get away with petty thefts coupled with Penguin's goons made for an agitated superhero and bruised ribs.

Irritated, Bruce went to the center of the commotion. All around were cheerful expressions of Christmas and loud holiday music playing through speakers. It gave him a headache. Moving to the speaker remote, he grabbed it and turned the music off. The joyful pair stopped and looked up from the box of garland and tinsel to stare at the man. Both appeared horrified.

With his hand, Bruce motioned around the huge sitting room, wondering, "What is all of this?"

Harley put her optimistic face on and explained, "Christmas has come to the manor! Alfred and I are decking the halls."

Wearing a sour expression, the billionaire retorted, "Bah humbug."

Ignoring Bruce's sour attitude, Alfred continued taking out the garland. "If you start pretending to have fun and feel the Christmas cheer, you might even catch a little by accident," he told the young man.

Bruce rolled his blue eyes and reminded the two, "I had a difficult night. My side is still aching, as are my ribs. I'm going back to bed. Try to keep the fun down if you don't mind."

Harley approached him, wrapped a garland around his neck, and sang, "Well, bah Humbug, now that's too strong! 'Cause it is my favorite holiday. But all this year's been a busy blur. Don't think I have the energy..."

Unamused, the man took the Christmas decoration off and left the room in a huff of annoyance. Fluffing the garland and beginning to drape it on the fireplace mantle, Alfred stated, "Don't mind him, Miss Quinzel. He always gets this way during the holiday season."

Helping Alfred with the decoration, the blonde wanted to know why. So the butler obliged in explaining, "It dates back to childhood, spending the first Christmas alone without his parents. It was difficult, and I tried to make the best of things, but Master Bruce didn't have it in him to be jolly. Not that he's the most cheerful of men on a good day, but the Yule season is one that he tries to bypass like a groundhog running for cover from seeing its shadow."

Well, that made a lot of sense to Harley. "I can relate," she said, "Back before the new me, the holidays weren't fun. You'd think criminals would relish their ability to steal and make mischief, especially at Christmas. But it rang hollow. I realize this will sound nutty as a fruitcake, and maybe it was, but every year I'd dress up as a Santa Elf and pass out toys to the orphanage. That was always my fondest memory of Christmas."

Alfred chuckled, and he had to know, "Where did you get the toys?"

She raised an eyebrow as if to say where do you think? Stolen goods are stolen goods, even for a good cause. But a wild idea popped into her head. "Oh, Alfred! I know what will make Bruce feel all cheery and warm inside. He can be Santa, I can be the elf, and we can pass toys out at the orphanage. They won't be stolen this time!"

Not wanting to dampen the blonde's spirits, the older gentleman only said, "Good luck with that. But I think if anyone can get him not to be a Scrooge, it would be you. Now, what do you think if we hung wreaths on all of the windows facing the front of the house?"