ajremix: (gen)
[personal profile] ajremix
Title from the song by the Arrogant Worms. Having seen the (sadly) fake news story of Santa beating up a pedophile, it reminded me of the TF2 comic A Smissmas Story, and I figured why not go with a little wish fulfillment.

Title: Santa's Gonna Kick Your Ass
Fandom: DC TV
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of child molestation
Word Count: 1326
In Responds to: ColdWave Week 2016: Since We've No Place to Go
Characters: Mick, Len
Summary: The heartwarming story of Santa beating the shit out of someone's dad.

Len sat at the table, one hand braced against his forehead and unable to look at his partner, knowing he'd get furious if he did. This was supposed to be a simple gig. Through bribery and forged evidence and a very expensive lawyer, Len had gotten the two of them out of a jail sentence and into community service and Mick went and wrecked it on the fourth day.

He knew- logically he knew -that Mick wouldn't have done it without a good reason. He hoped. Community service had been making him fidget since the moment they were told their sentence so chances were even but Len had some kind of faith that Mick hadn't screwed them over for nothing. The way Mick was sprawled so carelessly on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the mall security's holding room made it difficult for Len to keeping believing that.

Less than two hours earlier things had been going fine, both doing their sentence dutifully. As dutifully as a pyromaniac in a fake beard and criminal mastermind in green tights could bring themselves to do, anyway. Len had known that being a mall Santa was not going to be easy on either of them- which, given it was community service, was unsurprising -but Mick had just spent his half hour lunch break staring at his lighter so Len had assumed he'd be able to last the rest of his shift.

Then, towards the end of the parents-get-out-of-work-and-take-the-kids-to-see-Mall-Santa rush, Len helped a little girl onto the stage. She had pigtails and a fancy looking dress and when she was situated on Mick's lap, she handed him a cookie. Len smirked to himself- he had to give points to a kid who thought to butter Santa up before asking him for shit.

Mick munched on the cookie, "Whaddya want for Christmas, kid?" He mumbled, not caring about the crumbs getting caught on his beard. The little girl went up on her knees and whispered in Mick's ear. Even next to the chair Len couldn't hear what she said but he saw the change that went over Mick. His shoulders straightened out and he sat up, face growing dark. "Where?" He asked gruffly. The girl bit her lip and looked away, playing with the hem of her dress. Mick asked, "You tell anyone?"

"Mommy won't believe me and he won't stop when I tell him no."

That got a full-out growl out of Mick. "I'm gonna set you down," he said slowly, the way he did when he was trying to hold his anger in, "and you're gonna stay with my elf while I handle this, okay?"


Mick gently lifted the girl from his lap and stood her next to Len. She reached out, as if by instinct, to grab Len's hand. "Mick," Len said under his breath, "what are you doing?"

"Starting on the naughty list." Then he went to the edge of the stage where the girl's father was and, halfway down the steps, kicked the man in the stomach. Cries went up through the line and Mick smashed a fist in the man's face, knocking him to the ground where Mick straddled him and landed punch after punch after punch.

Cellphones came out in droves and Len slapped a hand to his face and mentally kissed all that money and work used to get this gig goodbye.

Mall security was running up, hands going to their tasers and Len knelt down by the girl. "Get on Santa's chair and stay there, okay?"

She tore her gaze from the fight- and Len felt a little queasy at the relief he saw in her eyes -and scrambled up the chair as she was told. Len slipped through the crowd, looping around behind security. There were two of them, tasers out and clearing the area around them of people to get a clear shot. They were both on the rug that lay between the decorative stanchions- before they were knocked over -and ran from the trellis entryway right up to the stage. So Len took an armful of the runner and heaved, pulling it and the guards' feet out from under them. As they struggled to get their breathes, he dumped the slack over top of them and ran over to Mick, pulling him off the thoroughly dazed and bloodied man.

"Mick!" Len can't say anything else, hand painfully tight on his partner's arm, furious because there was no way he could get either of them out of this mess.

Mick gave the man one more kick to the side but didn't struggle as more guards came up. "Worth it," he growled.

Things only got complicated when the guards went to handcuff Len and Mick. The little girl threw herself at Mick's leg and begged to go with him. Mick swiftly knelt down- and Len was distantly impressed he managed to keep the beard on through all that -and said, "You tell 'em what you told me. Tell 'em everything and if they don't do whatever they can to help you, you tell 'em Santa's gonna go after them next."

The guard by Mick pulled him up by the cuffs. It was difficult to hear with so many people talking and shouting but the last thing Len heard before they were led off was the little girl shouting, "Don't be mad at Santa! I asked him to do it!"

An hour and twenty three minutes later, the door to the holding room opened and there was their parole officer and someone, judging by the state of their dress, Len assumed was a detective. "Rory," the detective said without pre-amble, "I want to know what happened immediately before you assaulted that man."

"If you wanna know why I hit him," Mick growled out, opening his eyes just a sliver to glare at the newcomers, "it's 'cause the kid told me he was touching her in ways she didn't like even when she told him to stop."

Len barely kept his eyebrows from jumping. Their parole officer looked at him. "Is that what happened, Snart?"

"Yeah," he lied easily, "I was right next to them when she said. Wasn't certain I heard right because she whispered it."

The other two conversed quietly though Len heard certain words that made him feel a little better about the situation. Eventually the detective turned back to them and said, "We're going to take you to county lock-up. You'll stay in there while this is being investigated. If it turns out she's telling the truth-"

That got an angry growl out of Mick.

"We have to have evidence before charges can be made," the detective said calmly, though the distaste for the situation was obvious. "If and when we find that evidence, your sentence will be adjusted. The situation should've been handled differently but, well... can't say I feel all that sorry for the man."

The parole officer put two duffel bags on the table. "Here're your clothes. Get changed and I'll take you to county."

As they dressed, Mick asked quietly, "You still mad at me?"

"A little," Len said, mainly because it did some good to make Mick sweat a little. Mostly he was relieved his faith in Mick was vindicated. "It's hard to be mad when I enjoy watching you work," he teased, smirking as he blatantly watched his partner pull on his jeans.

Mick padded over in socked feet, looking surprisingly subdued. "I probably shoulda did different but I couldn't help it. When she said that, I couldn't let her go back to him. Even if it was dumb, it was the only thing I could do."

"I know," Len leaned in and placed a light kiss on Mick's lips. "You're a bleeding heart."

Mick covered his relief with bluster, giving Len's shoulder a light smack. "Shut up, jackass. Ain't got a heart."

Len snorted. "Whatever you say, Saint Mick."
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