Author's Note: Welcome to the third annual Batman Christmas Countdown, where the Batfamily acts as every fan's advent calendar! Be sure to either follow the story or check back regularly for updates, which will occur every day between now and the 25th.

If you missed the previous countdowns, or if you just want two or three Batman holiday stories a day, check out the 2013 and 2014 collections, entitled 'A Counting of Days' and 'A Second Counting of Days,' respectively.

We're starting this year's collection with a two-parter starring Dick and Jason. This little story is set prior to Jason's death, and for the purposes of the tale Dick is in his first year with the BPD. Jason will make his appearance in tomorrow's chapter.

Happy reading, and happy holidays!

Dick hadn't had to think when he'd heard that the Bludhaven Police Department participated in an annual program to deliver gifts and a little Christmas magic to the city's underprivileged children. He'd signed up to help on the spot, and it was for that reason that he found himself wearing a green velveteen costume and lugging a heavy sack of wrapped toys into an orphanage auditorium on his day off. Anticipation and nervousness mingled in his stomach as he glanced towards the stage, where a tree lot that also sponsored the event had already set up and decorated a tall noble fir. The afternoon's procedure had been explained to him, but this was still his first time participating. If everything would just go smoothly so that the kids could all have a good time…

"Um…excuse me?"

There weren't supposed to be any little ones in the room yet, but voice that had spoken from behind him was young. Turning around, Dick found a cherub-faced girl waiting. His heart melted as her bright emerald eyes took in his clothing and went wide. "'Scuse me," she repeated herself. "Are you one of Santa's elves?"

"I sure am," he answered. Setting down his heavy bag, he knelt to match the girl's height. She couldn't have been more than six, and the excitement she was giving off brightened their secondhand surroundings noticeably. Dick had already been smiling, but his expression widened as he studied her. "And I'll bet I don't need to check the list to know you've been good this year. Is that right?"

She bit her lip. "I tried to be good."

"Yeah? Then I'm positive that there will be something special for you under the tree in a little while."

A new tone broke in before the child had a chance to reply. "Hey, Twinkle-toes, you gonna help with this stuff?"

Dick glanced over his shoulder to find that his partners for the afternoon had made it to the stage and were already placing gifts under the tree. "I'll be right there," he called, then returned his attention to the girl. "Now look, sweetheart, I know you're looking forward to later-"

"But I'm not allowed to be in here," she finished for him. "I know it was bad to sneak in after you, but I wanted to know if you're really an elf. Only Jacob – he's my friend, he lives here too – he says that Santa's not real, and elves neither. And I don't want him to be right, but he's right about lots of things, and…" She took a deep breath. "And…well…is your name really Twinkle-toes? Because that sounds like an elf name, and I think maybe Jacob will believe me if I tell him I met an elf with a name."

Twinkle-toes was, in fact, what Davis had been threatening to call him if they ended up volunteering together, so it caused Dick no guilt to nod now. "That's me! And up there," he gestured to the stage, "are Sparkles and Bob. They're elves, too."

"Bob?" The girl wrinkled her nose. "That's the janitor's name!"

Dick laughed. "I'm going to tell him you said that. We've been trying to get him to change it for years now, you know, but Bob's adamant. He calls himself the practical elf." Bob Davis was a no-nonsense kind of guy, and his blunt personality came through even when he was wearing green velveteen and pointed shoes. It was for this reason that he'd been paired for elf duty with Dick and Susan Standish, who were vivacious enough to make up for his all-business exterior.

"He won't be mad at me? I wasn't making fun of him, honest!"

"He won't be mad at you," Dick soothed. "He's an elf, remember? He's got a heart of gold, even if he doesn't show it much." He wasn't exaggerating. This was Davis' fifteenth year passing out presents with the BPD's Giving Elf Program, which more than proved that he wasn't gruff to the core. Still, Dick couldn't resist teasing him about his stony expressions whenever he got the chance. The girl's frank comment was most definitely going to be shared once he joined the others. "Now, you'd better go back where you're supposed to be, huh? I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Okay. But I'll see you later, right, Twinkle-toes?"

"Absolutely." With that reassurance, the girl skipped to the door and disappeared into the main hall of the orphanage.

Standish was chuckling when Dick joined her and Davis beside the tall tree at center stage. "There goes Grayson," she joked, "getting all the girls as usual."

Dick crossed his arms in a mock huff. "I'll have you know that for the duration of this event I will only respond to Twinkle-toes."

"Oh, good. I was hoping we were going to really commit this year." Standish pulled a pointy felt hat shot through with silvery lines and festooned with glitter from her pocket. "There," she said as she straightened it out and then pulled it firmly down over her ears. "Now I'm ready to be Sparkles. Nobody call me anything else, got it? Even if the kids aren't here."

"Got it. And Davis," Dick turned towards the other man, "'Bob' isn't very convincing as an elf name according to the kiddo I was just chatting with."

Davis grimaced. "Well I guess she'll just have to have a little faith, won't she?"

"She says it's the janitor's name."

"The janitor? Ah, hell." A beat passed, then Davis shrugged. "You know what? That's fine. I'm a janitor elf, and my name is Bob."

"Elves don't need janitors," Standish argued as she plumped up the bow on a present. "They have magic for that."

"Then I'm a magic janitor elf."

"Bob the magic janitor elf." Dick shook his head, but he was grinning. "Love it."

"Good," Davis said, sending a nod towards the doors at the other end of the room. "Because there's no more time to debate my name and profession without destroying the illusion for the kids."

Sure enough, double lines of children were being led into the auditorium. The smallest came first, tiny three- and four-year olds who struggled to climb up into their seats in the front rows. Behind them came the school-age groups, which grew progressively taller as they filed inside. Among them was the girl who had sneaked in to talk to Dick. Spotting him, she raised her hand in a wave and jumped up and down to make sure that he saw her.

He waved back, and she pointed him out eagerly to the boy walking beside her. There was no question that the boy was Jacob, since his brow drew down skeptically at whatever it was that she was telling him. Determined not to let him destroy the vision of the North Pole that some of his peers were still clinging to, Dick waved to him, too. Reality was harsh for children who lived under the auspices of social services; if there was anything he could do to extend their Christmas dreams just a bit longer, he would do it.

Bubbling, high-pitched voices filled the air, but there was surprisingly little rowdiness even once the full population of the orphanage was present. There weren't enough seats available despite the fact that this facility only housed those up to age twelve, so the oldest residents stood against the back wall alongside the staff. When the last of them had entered and taken their place the director shut the doors and strode to the front of the room. Each row went quiet as she passed them, a mark the control she had over the children in her care. "…Are we ready?" she asked in a low tone once she'd joined the trio of elves on stage.

"Everything's set," Standish whispered back.

"Who's taking the mic after me?"

Standish and Davis exchanged a look. "Give it to Twinkle-toes over there," Davis smirked. "He's cut out for this sort of thing, and it's his first year besides."

"Throwing the rookie to the wolves? That's just mean," Standish remarked, but she was smiling. "What do you think, Twinkle-toes? You game?"

Dick was caught off guard by the suggestion that he greet the waiting crowd and explain the procedure to them, but once it had been made he embraced it. What could be more fun than pumping up a bunch of adorable kids who were already high on Christmas adrenaline? Besides, if he played his role right he might be able to infuse a little holiday magic into the day of even the staunchest unbelievers. "I'll do it," he agreed with an enthusiastic nod. "Bring it on."

An hour later Dick looked out over his work with a sense of great satisfaction. His eager address had nearly incited an anticipatory riot, but all two-hundred odd residents of the orphanage had now received their presents. They sat or stood in tight little groups, showing their gifts off to one another and enjoying themselves. There was a smile on every face in the room, including that of the strict-looking director. As Dick watched she sat down beside a small boy and admired the dinosaur figurine he was holding. He made it roar and attack her hand, and she laughed. Previously invisible lines appeared around her mouth, their faintness an indicator of how rarely she indulged in joy.

How many children, Dick wondered, had that woman watched pass into and out of her care? She was far from young – Alfred's age, possibly, although caring for so many others may have worn her down prematurely – but when she laughed something of the girl she had once been shone through. The passion that had kept her in her emotionally challenging line of work for decades was clear in that moment, too, and Dick's respect for her swelled. She might come off as cold and dominating, but she was clearly no imitator of Dickens' hard and hypocritical Mr. Bumble. It was a refreshing change from the usual stories he heard about social services in Bludhaven.

No matter how excellent and loving an administrator the director might be, though, her charges were numerous. Some of the older children might have memories of holidays with their families to draw on, but for the youngest residents this afternoon was the closest thing they knew to a Christmas morning. The gifts they had received today were probably the only ones they got all year. One-on-one interaction must have been more lacking still, considering how few adults there were to youngsters in the room. These kids wouldn't get fresh cookies handed to them by patient mothers or fall asleep on the laps of loving fathers when the tree and the stockings were spent. Their holiday would be short, structured, and parentless.

It was a far cry from December 25th at Wayne Manor, which he was only familiar with due to the greatest streak of luck in his life. He'd always tried not to take his good fortune for granted, but now it struck him how easily he might have been left to grow up like the children filling the auditorium in front of him. It had been the intense love and attention that he had received from Bruce and Alfred that had allowed him to heal after the murder of his parents. How much more difficult would his recovery had been, he wondered, if he had been but one of many who needed comforted?

"'Scuse me? Mr. Twinkle-toes?"

Startled out of his reverie, Dick looked down. The little girl who had sneaked into the auditorium after him earlier peered up at him, her eyes hopeful. Her hand was clasped around the wrist of the boy at her side as if she had pulled him onto the stage after her. "Hey, kiddo," he smiled. "Is this your friend you were telling me about?"

"This is Jacob."

Dick turned his attention onto the unbeliever. "Hello, Jacob. Did you like your present?"

"Yeah. But I know it didn't come from Santa."

"Oh? What makes you think that?"

"Because Santa's not real. And neither are elves."

"Really?" Dick reached up and touched his hat with a frown. "I feel pretty real." He examined his hands carefully, then went on. "And I don't think I'm disappearing. Am I disappearing?"

"No," the girl giggled. "You're right there! See, Jacob?"

"But that's because you're just a person," Jacob countered. "He's just a volunteer, Lacey. They dress up every year and go around to all the orphanages to give out presents. He's not an elf, he's just a person in a costume."

Lacey dropped Jacob's wrist and took half a step away from him. Her mouth had turned downward, and as Dick watched her lower lip began to tremble. "Stop it," she begged. "He is an elf. He told me so, and I believe him!"

"Well, then, you're dumb."

"Whoa, hey, now." Dick crouched down between the two children and glanced at each in turn. He'd hoped that he could infuse a bit of Christmas magic into Jacob's day, but it was clear that the boy was beyond convincing. What mattered now was that this childhood spat not be allowed to grow into a chasm of disagreement that might end the pair's friendship. "Nobody here is dumb. Jacob, listen to me for a second, okay? You may not believe in Santa or elves or the North Pole, but Lacey does. And that's fine. And Lacey, I know you believe, but it looks like Jacob really doesn't. And that's fine, too. The only time it's not fine is when you let the differences in what you believe come between you.

"Now I know you're friends, because if you weren't you wouldn't be trying so hard to make each other see things your way. You want to agree with each other, but you both think that your version of things is the right one. You both want to make sure that your friend is on the right path. Right?"

"Yes," Lacey sniffled.

Jacob blinked at her for a moment, his expression becoming guilty as a tear slipped down her cheek. "...Yes," he agreed.

"Well, here's the thing, guys; sometimes people have different beliefs, and they hold to those beliefs because...well, because that's what they believe. But that doesn't mean that two people with different beliefs can't be friends. It just means that they have to agree to disagree, and leave it at that. The most important thing is that you don't use your beliefs to hurt each other. So Jacob, don't call Lacey dumb because she has a different belief than you do. Lacey, if Jacob doesn't agree with one of your beliefs then don't try and force your viewpoint on him. When you do those things, you hurt each other even though you're trying to help."

Dick took up one of each child's hands and joined them together. The small fingers intertwined, and Jacob and Lacey gave each other tiny smiles. "You don't have to believe the same things to be friends," Dick reiterated. "You just have to care about each other. Sometimes that means that you have to accept that the other person doesn't believe the same thing you do, and that that's okay. Okay?"

"I think it's silly to believe in Santa Claus and all that stuff," Jacob said. "But... Lacey's my friend anyway."

"And I think you're silly for not believing in Santa, because you won't get any presents next year if you really don't," Lacey replied, "but you're my friend anyway, too."

"The older kids don't believe," Jacob pointed out, "and they still got presents."

Dick winced. The boy was right, but had he been listening at all just now? Instead of becoming upset again, though, Lacey merely looked pensive. "Hmm," she considered. "You're right, they did. How does that work, Twinkle-toes? I thought you had to believe to get presents? That's why I was so worried when Jacob said he didn't believe anymore."

He thought fast. "Well...Santa's whole thing is kindness, isn't it? He's kind, and he gives presents to people who are kind."

"Uh-huh. But what about the kind people who don't believe in him?"

"It's like we talked about. It's not very kind to exclude people just because they don't believe what you do. Since Santa is kind, he wouldn't leave good kids out of the fun of Christmas for not believing what he wants them to believe."

"That would be mean," Lacey said with a slow, serious nod. "And Santa's not mean. That makes sense." The last lingering signs of confusion cleared from her expression, and she turned to Jacob. "You want to go play with our presents now?"

"We don't have to talk about Santa anymore, do we?"

"No. We can talk about other things."

"Okay."

The two children climbed down from the stage and started back to their seats. Dick watched them go, a soft smile arcing his lips. He'd come here today to pass out toys, but in the end he'd had the opportunity to give Jacob and Lacey the far more important gifts of time and attention. Better still, his pep talk on tolerance seemed to have done the trick. With any luck that lesson would stay with them long after the things they'd unwrapped had been outgrown.

Davis came up beside him and threw him a nod. "I saw what you did there."

"What?"

"With the kids. The argument. I saw how you resolved it." A beat passed. "...You're a damn good elf, Twinkle-toes."

Dick's smile grew into a grin. "Thanks, Bob. You're not half-bad yourself. Even if you do insist on being a magic janitor."

Davis let out the fullest laugh that Dick had ever heard him give, and the afternoon felt complete.

Author's Note: For those who aren't familiar with Charles Dickens, Mr. Bumble was the poorhouse beadle (director) in Oliver Twist.