Warnings: Some language. Mostly fluff.

A/N: None

...

Anne and Tommy had gone to the Hot Dog on A Stick. She bought Tommy two hot dogs and herself a large chili cheese fry. They both got the freshly squeezed lemonade.

"I thought Santa was nicer," Tommy commented, as he stole one of the fries from Anne's basket.

"Santa gets…grumpy," Anne shook her head.

"I don't think the real Santa was," Tommy commented thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Aw geeze Annie, I know that dude wasn't Santa. I know he's not real, not really."

"Then why–"

Tommy shrugged. "I guess for the good karma. Throw some good thoughts out there, ask the Universe for what ya want, maybe something good will come back."

Anne tilted her head. Maybe her little brother was wiser than she gave him credit for.

Arthur, meanwhile, was looking around the Richland Food Court, trying to will his stomach not to grumble. There were so many delicious-smelling things here. He wandered around a bit, passing by the Pizza Hut, KFC, the Chinese place, the Orange Julius, the pretzel place, the Hot Dog on a Stick.

"Arthur?" He thought he heard his name called out, but he wasn't sure. He turned around, scanned his surroundings. Finally, his eyes fell upon Anne, sitting alone at a two-person table.

He walked up to her. "Um, hi! Fancy meeting you here!"

Anne chuckled after half a beat. "Uh, yeah, hi. Wanna sit?"

"Sure," he said with a shrug and a smile, trying to be non-chalant. Arthur looked around. "Where's your brother?"

"Ah, Tommy went to get some Dippin' Dots."

"I see." Arthur rubbed his hands up and down his corduroy-covered legs.

There was a bit of an awkward silence, before Anne broke it. "So how long did it take you to find me?"

Arthur chuckled nervously. "What?"

"Given the time, it's a safe assumption that you're on your lunch break. I spotted you earlier, looking all around, wandering the food court. I'm also guessing you either brought a lunch you've foregone so you can be here, or you don't have any money. Or else you wouldn't have just looked at the different food options longingly but not bought anything."

Arthur didn't know what to say.

"It's okay. I'm not creeped out or anything. Flattered, actually. I am concerned you're going to end up not eating anything on your break on account of me."

Arthur shook his head. "That wouldn't be your fault at all," he stated, his eyes downcast.

Anne frowned. "Look, I know we just met and all, but if…you want to share–" Anne pushed the basket of chili cheese fries toward him; a third of it had so far been eaten.

"You don't have to do that."

Anne shrugged. "Honestly I'm still so stuffed from Thanksgiving leftovers I probably wasn't going to finish it anyway."

Arthur still hesitated. His stomach grumbled in protest.

"I mean, what else have you eaten today?"

He considered that. "A glazed donut. Coffee with cream and four sugars. Some fudge and other samples from the Hickory Farm store. Half a bag of peppermint candies. Four gingerbread cookies."

"Jeeze, you're more sugar than man at this point."

Arthur smiled, wanted to Laugh, but he successfully suppressed it. "I probably should eat something…." he conceded. He reached for a fry and grabbed one well-slathered in chili and melted cheese. He ate it. "That is good."

"What's your last name, Mr. Elf?" Anne asked.

"Fleck. Arthur Fleck."

Anne nodded. "Owen, for me. Anne Owen. Don't call me Annie. Only my fiercest enemies call me Annie. Or my parents. Same dif."

"Why not Annie?" Arthur grabbed another fry.

Anne took a deep breath. "I guess because it's almost always been used in a pejorative way, at times to put me in my place, to poke fun. Makes me feel like I'm five years old. The only thing I hate more is my other nick name."

Another fry. "What's that–if you don't mind me asking?"

"Annie Oakley."

"Where does that come from?"

"Because I'm a 'straight shooter,' according to my father. I tell it like it is."

From what he had seen so far, that seemed accurate. Still, Arthur made a mental note not to use either nick name.

They continued eating, talking about random things.

Tommy came back.

"Hey, it's Arthur the Elf," Tommy said between munching bites of his colorful ice cream treat.

"Hi Tommy," Arthur greeted the boy.

"He's here on lunch. Speaking of which," Anne turned to Arthur. "Is it over yet? I don't want you to be late on account of me, either."

"Oh, I don't think–" Arthur glanced down at his wristwatch. He yelped a bit as he shot up from the table. "Gotta go, sorry!"

"I'll see ya!" he heard from behind him as he rushed out of the food court.

He was just one minute late. Gary didn't care, but Randall made a fuss.

"Christ, where were you? Dawdle much?"

"Sorry, I just…. I'm here now. Sorry."

Randall shook his head. "Well, it's time for Santa to feed his reindeer, if that's what they call it now. I'll be back in 30."

Brian was also allowed to go on break, since he didn't have much to do with Santa gone. Arthur and Gary worked the crowd, reassuring wide-eyed children that Santa would be back momentarily.

"Did you find that girl?" Gary asked at one point when he and Arthur found a moment to talk away from the families.

Arthur tried to play coy. "Wha–what do you mean?"

"I noticed you talking to her while she was in the queue. She seemed to like you."

Arthur could feel himself blush. "You think?"

"Oh yeah. A little on the young side, but she seems nice. Did you try to get her number, mate?"

Arthur's heart dropped to his feet. "No–no! I forgot. Again. Dammit."

"Cheer up. She might still be around shopping. Maybe you'll see her on your break."

Gary had a point. One which gave Arthur some hope.

….

The lines this year had been horrendous. Anne had waited an hour at the Sam Goody alone just to purchase one gift.

Tommy was becoming restless. "Can we go home yet?"

Anne sighed. "I still have a few things to get, including Mom and Dad's gifts."

Tommy rolled his eyes and groaned.

It dawned on Anne. "Hey," she reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She culled a dozen one dollar bills from it and and some quarters and held them before Tommy. "Think you can make this last for a couple of hours at the arcade?"

Tommy perked up at seeing the money. "Sure thing Anne!"

She chuckled. "Okay. Meet me at the entrance to Sears at…" Anne peaked at her wristwatch, "6 PM? Then we should probably head home."

"Gotchya!" Tommy took the money and pocketed it.

Anne watched Tommy scamper off to the arcade. She smiled to herself, knowing this was her chance.

After purchasing her mother a small music box, Anne visited the KB Toys store.

"Hi there Miss, can I help you?" a young man about her age in a blue vest asked from behind the counter.

"Uhhh…yeah. Do you have air rifles?"

"We do. Down the last aisle, against the wall." He pointed to a far corner of the packed-to-the-gills store.

"Uh, thanks." She headed for the indicated area. Found dozens of air rifles stocked on the shelves. She spotted the BSA ones, but there were a couple with a full scope attached.

"Need some help?" That young clerk had appeared behind her. It made her jump a little.

"Oh, uh, which of these BSA's is the latest model?"

"That would be this one," the clerk said, before reaching over and grabbing one of the rifles off the shelf. Anne stepped back a bit, so he wasn't so close.

"Thank you," she said.

The clerk smiled widely. "Do you need help finding anything else or can I ring this up for you?"

"That'll be it." Anne smiled politely. Was there a specific reason this boy was annoying her, or was it in her head?

She followed him up to the cash register. He was smiling at her a lot as he rung up her up, took her money, and handed her the receipt.

"You live around here, come to Richland much? You look familiar."

"Maybe," she offered, as she took the receipt.

"My number's on the back," the boy said, pointing with his chin toward the receipt. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

Anne turned the receipt over. There was indeed a name and number back there. "Uh-huh." Anne swiftly crumpled the receipt in front of the boy, was about to toss it before realizing she may need to keep it if she had to return the rifle. The boy gave her a dirty look, but she ignored it as she hefted the rifle into her arms and headed out.

Funny. Someone like that boy–fairly attractive, seemingly close to her in age, confident–should have been appealing. In theory. Yet he completely turned her off, as her mind kept going back to Arthur–someone doubtless a decade her senior, quiet and a bit uncertain, unconventionally handsome, working as a mall elf. What did he say he did normally? Party clown? She could already hear what her mother would say, but she didn't care. Anne regretted that their conversation never progressed to exchanging numbers, either time. But then she knew where he probably was….

Arthur, for his part, had taken his second break. He rushed-walked through the mall, looking all around. Unlike last time, he had no idea where she would be. There were plenty of pretty young girls around, but no Anne. She was a needle in a haystack.

As he got closer to the end of the mall anchored by JC Penny's, he saw her. Exiting the KB Toys. A long air rifle box was nestled in the crook of her left arm, while her other hand was shoved into the pocket of her coat. He wasn't sure, but it looked as if she was scowling.

They walked closer and closer to each other, but she didn't seem to see him through the thronging crowd.

Here goes nothing. "Annie Oakley!"

She stopped in her tracks when she heard that. That voice was familiar….

She finally spotted him. She smiled.

They walked up to each other.

"How funny. I was going to look for you."

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. "Really?"

"Yeah, I, um…." Anne set the rifle box down on the floor, as she swung around her purse. She dug through it. "Wanted to give you something."

"Oh?" Arthur looked on anxiously as she continued to look for whatever it was she wanted to give him. He looked down and realized she had bought that air rifle her brother wanted. What a sweet woman, he thought.

Anne was able to find a pencil, but she didn't really have anything to write on. Other shoppers passing by them were starting to give them questioning looks–the grown elf and the girl. Arthur tried to pay them no mind.

Anne finally gave up. She plucked the receipt from the Sam Goody bag–she just hoped Janey liked the album she got her–and started writing on the small end of the rifle box.

"Here, the top one is my parent's phone number, when I'm at home from school. The bottom one is the number for my dorm at Hudson, along with my extension." She looked up and smiled at Arthur as she handed him the receipt. "Give me a call sometime."

He took the receipt. "I will, for sure." He peered down at the numbers, tried to commit them to memory before carefully folding the paper up and slipping it into his pocket.

He looked back up and they locked eyes for a moment, before Anne looked down. "I better run this out to my car and stuff it in the trunk before Tommy sees it."

"Of course," Arthur breathed. He couldn't believe his luck in finding her, much less that she actually gave him her numbers without his even asking.

Anne hefted up the rifle box again, along with her bags. "Talk to you soon," she smiled, as she walked past him. He turned around and watched as she walked away. He thought briefly of running after her, offering to accompany her out to her car–would that be considered chivalrous or creepy?–but he knew he had to get back to Santa's Workshop.

….

The last young tyke to hop up on Randall's lap left around 6:15 PM. Santa's Village was closed for the day.

After Brian packed away his equipment, he shook each man's hand again before leaving for the day. "See ya tomorrow," he said as he waved good-bye before striding away. Arthur liked the man; he looked forward to working with him more.

"Time to call a taxi," Randall declared, as he finally pulled the scratchy Santa beard off his face. Down a hallway off the main concourse, they found a pay phone. They called a local cab company, who estimated a driver to arrive at the mall in about 15 minutes. They were also quoted a price that was going to be more than what was left of Hoyt's travel allowance.

Between what the three of them all had, they would have just enough.

They exited mall from the same service entrance they'd entered before. It was cold outside–much colder than that morning–and very windy. Santa and his two elves stood shivering underneath the mall's neon lights and its parking lot's lights.

"Hope they hurry their asses up," Randall grumbled. "Here," he offered, "I'll keep track of the money." He held out a hand to Gary, who had been holding on to their travel allowance.

"Mm, I don't know about that," Gary mumbled through chattering teeth as he stepped back a bit.

"What?! I can't be trusted with it?"

"It should probably just stay with me until we need it. Don't really see the point in the money moving hands right now."

"Well, I am higher up off the ground, less likely it will fall out of my pockets."

Gary scoffed, rolled his eyes.

"That doesn't make any sense, Randall," Arthur ventured to say.

"I mean," Randall started, as he dug around in his pockets for his own money he was going to have to contribute so they could just get home that evening. He pulled out the crumpled bills, holding them up in his hand. "We don't have that much, and if we ain't careful–"

At that, a particularly strong gust of wind snatched the bills from Randall's hand. "…they can disappear, like that."

Both Arthur and Gary grumbled out loud. Randall's contribution happened to be the biggest. Now with what they had left, they would maybe make it back to Gotham proper. Maybe.

"I can see how being higher off the ground made that money stay right in your hand," Gary quipped.

….

Nearby, in the Richland Mall parking lot, Anne and Tommy had just slammed the doors of the Oldsmobile against the cold. They rubbed their hands together and against their torsos and legs to try and quickly get warm.

Anne's shopping was finally done. She felt better, knowing it was all out of the way. Felt a pang of pride at knowing Tommy would be getting his air rifle, now snugly hidden away in the back of the Olds' trunk. Consequences be damned.

"Alright, time to head home. Hopefully Mom won't be too annoyed that it took longer than expected." Anne reached into her coat pocket and found the car keys. She inserted the key into the ignition.

The car made a horrendous grinding, clicking noise, but didn't start.

"Oh no…." Anne breathed. She quickly tried the ignition again–once, twice, three times–but it made the same noise. "Fu–" Anne started, but upon realizing Tommy was next to her: "dge."

"How are we gonna get home?" Tommy asked, worry in his voice. Hearing that made Anne's heart hurt a little.

She didn't know what else to do but let her head drop onto the steering wheel–

–which caused the car's horn to wail in the cold night.

She swiftly lifted her head up and it stopped. "Ow."

She sighed. Unsure what to do. She was pretty sure she'd spent pretty much all her cash on her holiday shopping spree. Maybe she had some change to make a payphone call, but she could only imagine what reaction she'd get if she called home and told their parents the news. What if her father came and saw the air rifle in the trunk? He'd…probably flip a little and make her return it right away. She needed time to hide it, maybe talk her parents into it.

"Hey!"

"Oh, sweet Jesus!" Anne's soul jumped out of her body at the sudden knock on her driver's side window.

"Hey, it's Arthur the Elf!"

"Yes, I see that Tommy," Anne commented, as she shut her eyes and breathed deeply for a few seconds, trying to regain her composure. Anne shoved open the driver's side door and stepped out.

"What are you doing here, Arthur?"

"Well, my friends and I heard your car. Sounds like it won't start? Also the horn–"

"Yeah, that was definitely me."

Arthur studied her face for a bit. "Are you okay?"

Anne sighed, shook her head. "I've been better."

"What's wrong with your car?" Gary asked, as he stepped up to Anne.

"I don't know…. I'm not the most mechanically savvy. And this old bucket of bolts has had a lot of issues."

Randall circled the car. He went to open the hood. "May I?"

Anne was unsure. "Uh, you know about cars much?"

Randall shrugged. "Used to work in a mechanic's shop, a while before my clown days."

Anne's shoulders slumped. "Sure. Can't hurt."

Randall opened the hood. Looked and poked around a bit. "Have any tools on hand?"

"Uh, yeah, in the back." Anne went to retrieve the spare tool box her father kept in the trunk. She moved aside the shopping bags and the air rifle box to get to it, as it had shifted to the very back. She was about to lift it up out of the trunk, but Arthur swooped in and got it for her. "Oh, thank you."

He just smiled at her before carrying it to the front, where he dropped it beside Randall. Anne had followed. "Hopefully I have what you need. My father's a stickler when it comes to preparedness, so it should all be in there."

"I'm sure I'll figure it out," he smiled at her. "Looks like it might be your starter, but I'll dig in there and see."

"Thank you," Anne said, feeling awkward about the fact that the man she'd called a fatass earlier that day was now offering to fix her car. "I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," Randall mumbled, as he started rummaging through the tool box.

Anne turned back to see Arthur and Gary. "You guys can sit in the car with Tommy and me, while we wait?"

Both men nodded eagerly and mumbled their thanks before climbing into the backseat. Anne hustled over back to the driver's side and got in just as quickly. Arthur was now sitting behind Anne and Gary behind Tommy. Everyone was quiet for a few moments, with nothing but the occasional shoppers passing by, talking, or the clanks and dings and whirs coming from the front of the car.

Anne turned around, draped her arm over the front bench seat. "How long have you guys been workings as elves today?"

Arthur and Gary exchanged a look and shrug. "I'd say since around 9 this morning," Gary said.

Anne whistled. "And you have to do the same tomorrow?"

Both men nodded. "Every day until Christmas," Arthur confessed.

"You must be awfully tired." Anne looked at both men but let her eyes settle on Arthur.

"Oh, not so much, I mean…." Arthur tried to shrug off the idea.

"Hey," she looked him dead in the eye, "It's okay to be tired."

Arthur let out a breath. "Guess I am a little," he admitted.

Anne smiled at Arthur, as she lay her head on her arm resting on the car seat. Kept staring at him, which made him squirm in his seat, try to hide the smile curling his mouth.

After a few more quiet moments. "It's nice of your colleague to help us like this. It must be something bad if it's taking this long."

"To be fair, we never knew about Randall's alleged mechanical skills before this…." Gary offered.

"Ah. Well, if he can get this old jalopy going, I'd be forever grateful. Maybe even offer to drop you guys off somewhere if it's not too far?"

Both men in the backseat perked up. Gary spoke first. "Actually, we don't have enough cab fare to get back to our workplace in the city. That's why we happened to be around when we heard your car. If you could drop us off anywhere near there, we'd be eternally grateful."

Anne nodded. "If your friend there can get this car working, that's the least I can do. Of course."

Some further uncounted moments passed before Arthur started craving a cigarette. He stepped out of the car and braved the cold winds to light one. He did his best to keep it from being extinguished. After a minute, Anne stepped out of the car and stood beside him. He felt anxious again having her there close to him, but in the good way.

He wasn't sure what to say when she plucked the cigarette from between his fingers and took a drag from it herself. "Uhhhh…."

"Sorry," she said on an exhale of cigarette smoke from a second drag. She handed the cigarette back to him. "I just needed that."

Arthur stared at her a bit. Examined all her features, the shine in her dark hair as it whipped around her in the windy night, the way her clothes lay on her frame, the way she held the Orange Julius cup in her fingers.

"How old are you, exactly?"

Anne looked up at him and smiled. "Nineteen."

"Nineteen," Arthur whispered, awestruck.

"What, too young or too old?" Anne smirked.

"Oh no, no. Just right."

Anne leaned in closer. "Not too young for someone like you?"

Arthur felt his cheeks burn, despite the cold air lashing at his face. He could feel his Laugh trying to bubble to the surface, but he coughed it away. "Not at all." His eyes shifted downward. "If 31 isn't too old for you."

"Not at all," Anne echoed.

Anne and Arthur locked eyes as they moved even closer. He reached out a tentative, shaking hand to her face, and just barely touched her cheek. A headiness grew between them as tension was building. Arthur had gathered enough courage to lean in closer; their lips were just centimeters apart–

"Just about done. Looks like it was your starter," Randall called out from behind the hood of the Oldsmobile.

Both Anne and Arthur sighed in disappointment. She turned to Randall. "Sounds good!" She stepped around front explained the deal she'd made with the other two men about driving them back to the city.

"That's great…but I just did this to help…."

"That's lovely of you, but in light of your guys' predicament and everything I think it's the least I can do."

Randall smiled warmly at her. "Thank you, Ma'am."

Anne, not used to being referred to as a Ma'am, smiled crookedly. "Of course."

When Randall had finished his repairs, Anne attempted to turn the car over. To her great relief, it started.

"Alright, everyone hop in. We're headed for Gotham."

….

The trip took about 40 minutes. Anne insisted on driving them right up to the door of Ha's Ha's.

"Here," Arthur said, handing her the travel allowance as they stood outside in the street; Gary and Randall had already rushed inside to get out of the cold. "Take it for gas. You could use it."

Anne made no move to take it. "Keep it. If it hadn't been for your guys I'd still be stuck in the mall parking lot."

"Okay…." Slowly, Arthur pocketed the money. He was about to thank her and wish her good night, but her hand shot out and grabbed his arm, causing his breath to stop.

"I would like that kiss, if you're still good for it."

Arthur chuckled nervously at first, before stopping himself. He looked down, then up at Anne. "If you really want me to…Anne."

"I do," she stated.

He leaned forward carefully. Internally, he fretted about his chapped lips and the smell of cigarette smoke on him and whether he was doing any of this right.

He touched his lips to hers in a tender kiss, then just as carefully drew back.

Anne had a big smile on her face.

Both of them jumped: "Jeeze, you two, get a room or something," Tommy said as he leaned forward out of the driver's side window.

Anne looked at him sharply. "None of your business. Now sit back down in the car."

Tommy rolled his eyes before doing as he was told.

Anne turned back to Arthur, shrugged. "Little brothers."

Arthur just shook his head. "Kinda makes me wish I had one."

"Hm, are you sure about that?" They both laughed.

"Well, we better get going. You have those numbers, right?"

"Yeah–yeah. Right here," Arthur said, patting the front of his coat, over the pocket that held the folded up receipt.

She lay her hand over that pocket briefly. The pocket that just happened to be over this heart. "Don't lose it."

"I won't. Not for anything."

Anne smiled warmly. "I'll see you around, Mr….Fleck."

Arthur watched as she got in the car and drove off. It had just started to snow; the flakes fell gently around him, onto his face. He did a little hop, skip, and a jump and he headed for Ha's Ha's.