A Grumpy Santa and a Bitter Elf: A Merry Charloe Christmas Story

by Wildirish

Disclaimer: Revolution is not my property.

Author's Note: I wrote this to help out the GoodShipCharloe for a make-up story for their 2015 Christmas Exchange. This is for RyansDreamMaker. You requested a naughty or nice fic. I think this applicable to both. It's Christmas-themed though it doesn't happen on Christmas day. You wanted absolutely no Miles/Rachel. Done. She's not even in the story. (Merry Christmas to me.) Your prompts were Bass as a Christmas elf and Miles as a grumpy Santa. This little AU one-shot popped into my head almost instantaneously. I really hope you enjoy it. Quick shout-out to Lemon for her positive feedback while I was working on the story. Thanks!

Miles Matheson had an even more cantankerous expression on his face than usual. Ironic, considering he was wearing a bright red suit, an itchy white beard and holding his son on his lap. To be fair, when he and Nora brought their eighteen month old he'd never expected to be putting on a Santa suit underneath hot lights. His cheer came out less like, "Ho! Ho! Ho!" and more like an irritated growl.

"I don't know what you're whining about," Bass grumbled from the floor by his knee.

"I'm wearing fifty pounds of bulk underneath a velvet suit and light bulbs hot enough to rival the sun," Miles shot back.

As far as Bass was concerned Miles was the lucky one. His green elf costume came with tights that felt like they were reversing puberty on him. At least Miles had a child; Bass was fairly certain the tights were going to ruin any chance of him carrying on the Monroe name. He felt like some Nordic Robin Hood in his costume of red and green striped tights, green shorts and top, with a red belt. His curly hair poked out beneath a pointed hat that matched his tights and jingled with every turn of his head.

Bass vowed that he'd never again pay for another drink of his own whenever he and Miles met up with the guys at their favorite bar. He'd be imbibing on Miles' tab forever. It was the least he could do after Bass had been made a eunuch for his nephew and godson.

Of course Miles wasn't the only guilty party. He looked in the direction of the photographer and scowled at Charlie. He'd pray her lens cracked but it'd only delay him getting his godforsaken costume off.

"Smile guys. Sammy's enjoying himself," Charlie reminded them in that high pitch voice adults used around kids so not to alarm them. But the threat was very clear. They had to pull some cheer out of their asses or she'd be shoving her foot up there instead.

Bass turned and looked at Sammy, who was marveled by the small white ball at the end of the Santa's hat. He was even sucking on it—a product of his teething. Everything was a teething ring now. But a drool-ridden Santa hat was peanuts to the full on meltdown Sammy had had earlier in the morning. Sammy had arrived in his mother's arms while Miles carried the diaper bag. He'd been delighted to come to Charlie's studio and see her and Bass. All of the joy had evaporated quicker than a puddle in the Sahara as soon as he'd been plopped on some strange Santa's lap. Thirty minutes where they'd all but stood on their heads had done nothing to calm the child. Until Miles grabbed Santa's hat and put it on himself and said, "See, Sammy? It's okay."

The tears had tried up and two tiny front teeth appeared as Sammy grinned as his father "Ho! Ho! Ho!"-ed at him.

Then Charlie's lightbulb went off. Miles should dress up as Santa instead because Sammy would be more comfortable. Bass had laughed at the idea until Carlie told him he was going to be the elf because Nora couldn't as she was six months pregnant and Charlie had to operate the camera. Bass argued that he could point and click too. Then Charlie threw a lot of technical jargon at him that she knew he'd never understand. He'd stomped all the way to the dressing room. He'd gone in a self-respecting man and came out as Buddy the elf.

"Just a couple more," Charlie coaxed.

"You've been saying that for twenty minutes." Miles spoke through gritted teeth. It was slightly mumbled because he was maintaining a forced smile.

"And done!" Charlie proclaimed and immediately Miles and Bass relaxed their poses.

"Good job baby!" Nora cheered from the corner. She was sitting at a small, round kitchen table snacking on wheat-thins and peanut butter. Not a combo anyone else found enjoyable considering the crackers were Spicy Buffalo flavored.

"Thanks Nora," Miles said.

"I was talking to Sammy."

Miles's scowled returned.

"Stop pouting. You guys can take the costumes off now," Charlie told them as she moved to her computer to look at images.

"Hallelujah," Bass said with feeling.

Miles and Bass raced to the changing room. It was an awkward race. Miles was saddled with extra heft and Bass was afraid any sudden movements would really make him a eunuch. Miles won the rights to the small room first because he used his extra padding to push Bass away from the front of the door.

"Goddamn it. You owe me every drink for the rest of my life," Bass grumbled through the door. "And none of your shitty moonshine either. I'm talking top shelf, brother."

"My moonshine is not shitty!" Miles shouted through the door. Bass could hear the scuffle as Miles fought to get the costume off quickly.

"Please. Even a desperate Irishmen wouldn't touch it," Bass sneered.

An indignant Miles threw open the door. "You take that back. Take it back right now or I'll kick your ass!"

"Miles! Language," Nora scolded. She nodded her head to Sammy—the professional copycat as of late. Sammy was too busy playing with some blocks to pay much attention to his father and uncle.

"He's insulting my moonshine," Miles raged and stepped out to glare at his wife for not seeing the severity of the issue.

"No, I'm describing it," Bass corrected and then yanked Miles away from the door before jumping inside the room. He tossed Miles' pants and shirt out the door because all Miles had on was his boxers and then he slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure.

"Isn't it sad that the only mature male in here isn't even two or potty-trained yet?" Nora said with a belabored sigh.

Miles attempted to look contrite. He failed.

"Just put your clothes on. It's getting close to Sammy's lunch time. Then he needs a nap after this morning," Nora said. "I want to swing through Taco Bell on the way home. I want a burrito."

Miles smartly refrained from sharing his thoughts on that. Though privately he wondered how that would mix with the spicy wheat thins and peanut butter she'd just finished eating. Aloud he said, "Well, I need a drink." It was muffled as he pulled his shirt on.

He slapped a hand on the door. "Bass let me in. I gotta get my boots. Nora wants to go."

He heard the rattle of the doorknob as Bass turned the lock. Miles pulled the door open. His boots were just inside the door. But he couldn't resist a little revenge. A man had to defend his honor after all. Any insult on his liquor was a direct insult on him and deserved retribution. That was his justification for grabbing the back of Bass's tights and yanking up hard.

The most unmanly squeal came out of Bass. Vindicated, Miles grabbed his boots and beat a hasty retreat. "I'll grab the car!" Miles shouted as he stumbled into his boots while making his way out the door.

"I'm going to be the mother of three," Nora said dryly. She rubbed her belly and then pushed herself out of the chair. "Let's go find Daddy, Sammy. Thank you Charlie for doing the pictures."

Later, Bass came out of the dressing room with both costumes back in their garment bags. He hung them on the costume rack. "I've got good news and I've got bad news, Charlie."

"What's that Bass?" Charlie asked, pulling her eyes away from her computer where she was fiddling with some lighting on one of Sammy's pictures.

"The good news is that I will be an excellent falsetto for next week's choir concert," Bass said.

Charlie folded her lips so as not to laugh. "And the bad news?"

"We are either going to have to adopt or settle for a litter of puppies," Bass said gravely.

Charlie couldn't help herself. She busted a gut laughing.

"It's not funny Charlie!" Bass complained. "The family jewels were oxygen deprived for too long. I'm lucky they haven't fallen off. As it is, Miles completely undid puberty with that stunt. For which there will be lots of retribution. Painful retribution."

Charlie's mirth was still unrestrained. She doubled over and nearly fell off her computer chair.

"Stop laughing," Bass said. "You won't think it's funny later on tonight. Besides it's your fault for making me wear that costume anyway."

Charlie cleared her throat repeatedly to cease her laughing. "It was for Sammy's memory book. Are you really gonna be resentful towards a toddler?"

"Well maybe he should take after his mother more. The Claytons are clearly braver," Bass grumbled.

"Careful. I'm a Matheson too." Charlie arched one perfect brow.

"That's not what your driver's license says," Bass said with a wide grin.

Charlie gave him an equally bright smile. "True."

It hadn't read that for six months. They'd celebrated the arrival of her new I.D. by joyriding on old county roads and then having sex in the backseat like teenagers. Or newlyweds. The running joke in the family was that it was Bass and Charlie's honeymoon but Nora was the one who got pregnant.

"How about I prove to you that you're not a eunuch?" Charlie offered.

Bass sniffed. Then his eyes gleamed. "Prove it, Mrs. Monroe."

Charlie stood up from her seat and slowly walked across the room towards her husband. Unconsciously she licked her lips in anticipation. While she sauntered over to him she slowly stripped until she stood in nothing but her birthday suit. "How's that for proof?" she asked with a pointed look at the noticeable bulge on the front of his jeans.

"I think this kind of claim needs more research," Bass said. He licked his lips this time in anticipation.

"If you think so," Charlie said demurely. She stretched up as if to kiss him but pulled away as he leaned forward to meet her lips. Charlie sank to her knees. In no time she was releasing his very much alive cock from the confines of his pants. She noted that he'd foregone wearing any briefs.

When the moist warmth of Charlie's mouth encompassed his length, Bass forgot all about the indignity of playing Santa's little helper. Charlie knew exactly what Bass liked and she used all that knowledge to prove her point. Charlie's hand snaked across his thigh to his balls. She cupped them in her palm, softly massaging them. Then she simultaneously brushed her front teeth over his cock and gently squeezed his balls. Pre-cum leaked copiously onto Charlie's tongue. As much as the sight of Charlie's head bobbing up and down on his dick pleased him, he didn't want to find his release in her mouth.

"Baby," Bass groaned as he—with no little regret—pulled Charlie up off her knees. "You have made an excellent argument up to now. But only one more thing until I believe you."

"What's that?" Charlie played along.

"Making you come all over my dick," Bass said with mock seriousness.

"That seems highly scientific," Charlie said with equally faked severity.

Bass couldn't resist her smart mouth anymore. But he didn't crush her lips. First he bit and nibbled on them, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. Slowly he slipped his tongue into her mouth, mating it softly with her hers. The taste of Charlie exploded on his taste buds and sent white lightning through his veins. The kiss took on greater urgency until it became nothing but endless need.

"I need to be inside you Charlie," Bass beseeched.

"Yes, yes, yes," Charlie acquiesced.

Bass lifted her up and carried her over to the table. He kissed down her neck, suckled her breasts and dipped his tongue in her belly button before reversing course. As he recaptured her mouth he thrust hard and deep into Charlie. He drank her cries of pleasure and let them merge with his own. Bass lifted her hips up higher, changing the angle of his penetration so that he hit her g-spot.

The feel of Charlie's nails leaving half-moon imprints in his back assured him he'd hit his mark. He listened to her impassioned pleas and thrust faster and harder into her core. Bass loved to suck on her neck, especially just behind her left ear and he focused there as they neared their climax. Bass felt her muscles start to clench and he knew she was close. He whispered, "Come for me, Charlie," in her ear. The feel of her orgasm triggered his own and he spilled into her, buried as deep as he could go.

"I was right. I win," Charlie gloated once their breaths had returned to a relatively normal pace.

Bass chuckled. "I'm pretty sure we both win."

Charlie nodded. "Guess that elf costume wasn't so bad then?"

"I wouldn't go that far." Bass's distaste for the garment was palpable.

Charlie giggled softly.

"You think that's funny?" Bass was affronted.

"No. I'm laughing because you know you'll have to wear it again next year for Sammy's Christmas pictures. In fact, it'll take even longer because we'll need photos of the two kids together and separate."

Bass noted that his wife's voice was practically bubbling with glee. Bass's groan was real and heartfelt.

"And that's just for their family," Charlie goaded.

"Hang on. What other families? If you think I'm wearing that thing for each of your clients then you and reality have a sad date in your future," Bass denied.

"No. Just their family and ours."

"Ours?" Bass repeated.

Charlie nodded and pushed off the table. She returned to her computer desk and grabbed a picture frame from the bottom drawer. She walked back over and gave Bass the small frame.

It was a sonogram.

"Merry Christmas, Bass," Charlie said. She gloried in watching the truth dawn on him. Charlie doubted she'd ever seen her husband give a more brilliant smile then the moment he realized he was going to be a father.

Bass swept her up into the tightest hug ever. He immediately pulled away in worry. "The baby. We didn't hurt it did we?"

"No. The baby is fine. All protected," Charlie promised.

This time Bass smiled but it wasn't as much joyous as it was wicked. "What?" Charlie wondered, slightly worried.

"Next year Miles can be the elf," Bass said gleefully. "Merry Christmas indeed."