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"Daaaad!! Dad!! Santa Claus is kissing with mommy!!"
It was all Pickles managed to decipher somewhat from the second floor besides the screaming and panic of a nine-year old child. The words didn't fully sink in, still mostly muffled by the door. He was too focused dressing up his daughter, Lena, into a small reindeer hoodie that matched with him.
She just sat quietly on the bathroom counter top, fidgeting with her stuffed bunny. Her dark mahogany hair tied into cute pigtails, albeit a little flimsy on the ends, but Pickles was still proud of his efforts.
"Wonder what's gotten Pat so worked up first thing in Christmas morning," Pickles muttered, zipping up Lena's hoodie and pulling the hood up to show her cute little antlers. "I should go check in on him in a bit."
"Maybe he stole the cookies from the chimney again and is making up some stories to mom…"
"Hah!! Well, sadly, I can't cover for him this time!" He smiled wide and pulled her to a half-hug, squishing each other's faces in the process. "There you go!! You and me—the fantastic dad and daughter reindeers!! Now, what do reindeers say?!"
"Uh, reindeer goes… moo?" Lena tried, putting her hands up like cats do.
"Reindeer goes moo, indeed!! Moo! That's my girl!!" Pickles picks up his daughter and sits her down on his right shoulder. "Wait til' your mom and Papa Trick sees this!!"
He kicks the bathroom door open with more effort than he needed and hops down the stairs, careful not to drop Lena, who barely reacted to her father's antics.
From top to bottom, the house was covered in Christmas decor with an equally decorated small Christmas tree. Gifts were scattered around, especially the big ones that couldn't fit on the Christmas socks.
Pickles ran with excitement, like a kid despite his age, but still carefully balanced his daughter.
He thought to himself, No one's falling on me today!
But she did almost fall when her older brother, Pat, bumped into Pickles and both men landed right on the wooden floor. Luckily, Pickles caught her just on time.
"Careful there, little Trickster!!" Pickles surprisingly laughed despite the almost-accident and fixed Lena's hoodie. "You okay, pumpkin?"
She just nodded in that same neutral expression then faced her brother. "Seriously? Mom says to not run in the hallway especially after she waxed it. What trouble did you get into this time, Pat?"
"Yeah! What she said! And what's this about mommy and Santa Claus?"
Pat, who was in an elf costume, shook his head frantically and finally remembered what he was yelling about for the past few minutes. He jumped up almost instantly and began to ramble like he was on his fifth coffee in the morning.
"Papa!! Papa Pickles, I— i-it's mom— living room— then I saw Santa a-and they were— were kissing!! And they were being all gross!! And Santa was saying what happens if we find out!! And then! And then—"
"Woah, kid, breathe…" Pickles gently coaxed his son down. "One thing at a time, okay? One thing. So… you saw Santa Claus?"
Lena stared at her father. "That's what we're focusing on first?"
"Priorities, Lena."
"Uh-huh!!" Pat confirmed, still catching his breath. He puffs out his cheeks in frustration. "And they were by the chimney!! Santa Claus is trying to home wreck us!! He even has the audacity to even copy Papa Trick's neck tattoo and the cap!!"
It hit the both of them instantly and they reacted differently.
"Ohhh, Santa Claus playing homewrecker now?" Pickles grinned, a little too wide, almost like he was trying so hard not to laugh.
Lena only shook her head and looked way too serious for a six-year old. "Seriously, Pat?"
"Yeah, I'm serious!! We have to stage an intervention!! We have to— have to uh…" Pat tapped his feet, thinking long and hard. "We have to sabotage Christmas!! For our family's honor!! Our mom won't fall for anymore schemes from men, even someone like Santa Claus! Dad, you'll help me, right?!"
"Of course, of course, though have you seen your dad, Pat?" Pickles asked, deciding to play along much to Lena's dismay. "Maybe Santa hid him in a closet with the elves!"
Pat gasped, the stress making him clutch the strands of his brown hair. "No! No, we have to save dad!! Lena, come on! Maybe we can steal Santa's sled outside our house as leverage to make him give back our dad!!"
"Ahah… wait, Pat, be careful!! Don't go outside yet!!" Pickles calls out. "Aaand he's gone. Well, aren't you going to join your brother?"
"Why are you playing along with this, dad? It's obvious Papa Trick's dressing up as Santa this year instead of you…"
"No, no, Pat still believes in Santa, so I don't wanna break his poor little heart," he pouted, placing a hand on his heart. "Would you want to ruin his Christmas spirit?"
"Dad, I stopped believing in Santa last year," she said deadpanned. "And he's way older than me. Also, you just want to see how Mama and Papa Trick will cover it up."
"Guilty," Pickles confessed, raising a hand like he got caught. "Speaking of which, where are they really? I have to go before Pat gets himself into real trouble—"
Right on cue, Bridgette came in the hallway with her complete green elf costume with the belt buckle, the gloves and the pointy hat. She instantly beamed at Lena's costume and kneeled down to pinch her cheeks.
"Aww, Pickles, look at our girl!! You two look cute together! I need to take a picture!" Bridgette hastily fishes for her phone and takes a quick photo. Once she takes a look, she notices the very obvious frown on her daughter's face. "What's wrong, Lena? You don't like the costume?"
She shook her head at her mom. "No, I like how comfy it is. It's just… I think Pat caught you and Papa Trick kissing in the other room, and he thinks you're having an affair. He's been screaming for the past five minutes about it down the hall."
"What?!" Bridgette gasped, her face flushed and her phone clutched to her chest. "How did he— we didn't even hear him come in the room!! We would've heard him, I—"
"Bridgette, hon, breathe…" Pickles coaxed her in similar fashion, still not dropping the grin from the absurdity of the situation. But seeing her panicked expression prompted him to finally drop it. "I'll explain to him everything. I got this, alright?"
"Dad, you added fuel to the fire that Santa Claus had hidden Papa Trick in a closet, so he could steal mom from us."
"Ehhh, okay, okay, maybe I overdid it a little," Pickles admitted, embarrassed, and probably wanted to be the one in the closet this time. "…. a little is probably an understatement toooo…"
"I told you me dressing up as Santa was a horrible idea," a gruff voice responded. It was Trick in true Santa fashion—the hat, the beard and even the full coat. "Pickles, you have to help us fix this."
"You're right, you're right. I'll go start looking for Pat, he definitely went down this way—"
For the second time today, Pat bumped onto Pickles and fell on the floor. This time, the young boy stood on business as he got into a fighting stance he copied from one of those martial arts movie they had rented.
"You there!!" Pat pointed dramatically at his dad, still in the Santa Claus outfit. "How dare you try and ruin our Christmas holiday as a family, huh?!"
"Now, now, Pat…" Bridgette tried her most gentle voice. "It's not what you think, let me explain—"
"My mom's already happy with her two partners!!" Pat interrupted with a scowl and clenched fists. "You're so going to regret ever crossing this family! Hyaah—!!"
The boy ran and almost kicked on Trick's lower region, but luckily, Pickles swooped in on time and carried him by the shoulders. Bridgette was in front of Trick on full instinct and all three adults were shocked by what almost happened.
"Woah, woah!! Okay, okay, not funny anymore!!" Pickles exclaimed, trying to hold up a kicking and screaming Pat. "There'll be no nut-kicking in this household!! Pat, come on, it's your dad!! Your dad's Santa Claus this year!!"
That seemed enough to calm Pat down and as he took a good look at his dad, all wide-eyed and frozen like a reindeer in the headlights.
Silence fell and Pat slowly turned to Pickles.
"That's… that's really him?" He asked shakingly with an equally trembling finger pointing at Trick. "You sure it's actually him?"
Pickles nodded. "Yeah, take a look again."
As he did so, Trick pulled down the beard with that weird forced smile he rarely puts on. Bridgette, being the one next to Trick, also followed suit to lessen anymore awkwardness.
"Hey… champ," Trick started. "… Merry Christmas…?"
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"Christmas has no meaning… and I only have myself to blame," Pat started muttering as he hugged his knees. "…I ruined everything…"
Lena was next to him by the fire and she gently pushed him, causing her brother to rock back and forth. "Christmas isn't ruined because Santa isn't real."
"Stop playing with your brother, sweetie!!" Bridgette calls out, setting down the presents on the table. Then she turned to her boyfriends. "I kinda feel bad about earlier."
"Yeah, earlier, I thought it was all fun and games," Pickles said, scratching the back of his head. "Did not expect for Pat to almost kick Trick in the… you know. …"
Bridgette groaned, pinching her nose bridge. "Honestly, Pickles…"
"I know, I know… I shouldn't have overstepped," Pickles continued, taking a sudden interest on the floor. "I thought messing around would be lighten up the mood! … guess it did the opposite."
Trick sighs, pulling down his hat to slightly cover his face, still embarrassed this all went down. Though that only lasted for a second before he removes his fake beard completely and marches straight to the fireplace.
"I'll go talk to him first," Trick simply said. "Just give me a minute…"
He takes a seat next to his son, who was still rocking back and forth.
"Heya, champ." Trick puts his knees close to his chest too as he spoke. "Not doing too great, huh?"
No response.
Pat just stared at the fire which prompted Trick to try again.
"Look, I uh… I'm sorry about earlier. Causing that confusion with your mom, and I guess ruining the whole facade that Santa is real. Swear didn't hear you come into the room."
"Still, I feel like I ruined something today…"
"You didn't ruin anything, kiddo." Trick immediately cuts in, putting an arm around his son. "And even if you kicked me… there earlier, I still wouldn't be mad. … you know, my dad—your grandpa Joey wasn't around much. I never had a Christmas with him growing up, no silly costumes and such. I thought it was lame. I mean, he obviously doesn't exist."
"Mhm…" Pat just kept staring at the fire, falling to his dad's side to lean against his arm.
"Still, even if it was silly and more of Pickles's thing to dress up like he always does every year, I wanted to try it out. I didn't want my kids to grow up without a childhood I wished I had gotten, and hey, things may seem like it failed today, but I'm sure it'll still be a fun Christmas! You know why?"
Pat finally looks up to his dad, anticipating the response.
"Because I'm going to celebrate it with my two amazing partners—" He gestures to Pickles and Bridgette, who already moved behind them. "—And my two equally amazing kids!!"
Pat and Lena couldn't fight back the squeal as Trick grabbed them and hugged them close with each arm. It instantly dissolved into laughter, then Pickles and Bridgette joined the five-person-cuddle.
"Dad, haha, come on! You're squishing us!!" Pat tried to wiggle out of his dad's grasp. "Daaad!! Lena, help me out here!"
"Can't. I have now accepted my fate," Lena said, slowly sinking down on Trick's embrace. "The Christmas Spirit has gotten me."
"Nooooo!!" He fake-sobbed as he held his sister's hand. "I'll avenge you, sis!!"
Pickles just snorted at the sight before ruffling Pat's cap.
"Hey, little guy, sorry again about the whole 'Santa-hid-your-dad-in-the-closet' thing," Pickles sheepishly said to him. "Next time, no more jokes of anyone being hidden in closets!"
Pat simply grinned before lightly jabbing Pickles on the gut. "Apology accepted, dad!"
Trick couldn't fight the smirk on his face. "You got that coming, dear."
Pickles only grunted, holding his gut but still smiled it off. "Yep! Totally did! Ow.. my ego…"
"Aw, come on, let's not encourage it," Bridgette tried to scold, but even she couldn't help herself from laughing. She faced her son and daughter. "Don't be like your dads, okay, kids?"
Pat and Lena only laughed among themselves and gave an eager "yes, mom!" before said dads turned to Bridgette with an unamused expression.
"Don't be like us, huh?" Trick asked, raising a bored brow. Then faced Pickles. "Can you believe that, dearest? It's like she torments us for a living."
"Oh, betrayal never comes from enemies," Pickles said with a fake pout on his lips. "You know what that means…"
Laughter slowly died down as Bridgette began to process. "Oh… oh, no, no! Don't you dare—" She began to back away. "I swear, you two— aah!"
"Let's get her, Trick!!"
Both kids were let go as they now had to watch their own fathers chase their mother in the living room like a bunch of kids. Laughter rang all over and the kids cheered them on.
"Don't let dad get to you, mom!!" Pat yelled like it was a baseball game. "Tackle him! Tackle him!"
"Do that judo move on dad, mom." Lena cheered in her own monotone way. "Woooo…"
"Aaah, Trick!! Trick, let go!!" Bridgette shrieked as she could feel Trick's arm snaking around her waist. "Ahaha, no, no!! Noooo!!"
"Oho, you're not getting away from us, Bridgette!!"
"Yeah, what he said!!" Pickles laughed before lifting her entirely with ease. "You're not getting away like that, love!!"
All three adults dissolve into more fits of laughter and Pickles eventually pulled her down to the couch. The kids followed behind, watching as their mother gets tackled? Or cuddled down by Pickles and Trick.
"Got you!" Pickles proudly said before planting kisses all over Bridgette's face. "Merry Christmas, hon!!"
Trick raised his head to notice a mistletoe and could only smirk. "Convenient timing, huh?"
"Yeah, come on, Trick!!" Bridgette nudged him as she welcomes him in open arms. "Don't want to ruin tradition… again."
He rolled his eyes. "Dressing up as Santa for your gullible kids is not tradition, but okay—"
Trick gets cut off as he is welcomed once more and got attacked with kisses from both Pickles and Bridgette. The kids averted their gaze immediately upon the sight.
"Ewwww, they're being gross again!" Pat exclaimed, hiding both his eyes with one hand and the other covering Lena's. "This is worse than finding out Santa's not real!"
"I have lived a good six years living in bliss," Lena comments, letting her brother do her thing. "Oh, sweet eternal bliss I will see in the next life."
"Let's get out of here, Lena!"
"Right behind you, Pat."
"Aw come on, you'll have kisses too when you find a partner!" Pickles yells out as the kids run out of the room. "… eh, they'll grow up eventually."
"Says the dude who never stopped believing in Santa even though he went to prison for a decade," Trick countered, resting his head on Bridgette's chest.
"Oh, you went there." Pickles smiled despite the jab and just only cuddled closer to both his partners, dozing off a bit. "Eh, well, I don't care. I'm here with you guys now this Christmas, and not behind bars…"
"Damn right you should be here." Trick giving a quick peck to Pickles before continuing to lay his head down on Bridgette. "If you get your ass in jail again, I swear I'll break you out."
That earned a snort from Bridgette. "Hey, come on, not without me at least."
She huddles the guys closer to her, staring at the ceiling. A chaotic Christmas morning melting into something warmer.
"You know, despite how things could've gone… way worse," Bridgette starts. "I agree with Pickles. I'm just glad I'm with you all for Christmas. I love you both… and you're the best gift in my life, especially our kids."
"Mmm, love you too, Bridgette," Pickles said, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "Nothing could get better than this."
"Oh, not even another kid?" Trick teased, suddenly wrapping his arms around Bridgette's waist tighter.
That earned Trick two forehead flicks from the both of them for that question.