Not Your Type (Chris Pine FanFic)

Colorado Christmas Eve

The days leading up to Christmas could be played out in a montage set to happy holiday Bing Crosby tunes. Afternoons of sledding and hot chocolate, gift wrapping and caroling, baking and playing made the few days fly by. Before anyone even realized it they were waking up on the eve of Christmas.

"Do you know what today is, Pine Tut? Do you know? Do you know?" Luke asked, jumping up and down on the couch. Chris sat calmly, reading the newspaper.

"Tuesday."

"No!" Luke moaned, flopping bonelessly on to the cushions.

"Yes, actually it is," Chris fluffed the newspaper, folded it to the front page and pointed out the date. "See, Tuesday." He ran his finger under the letters, unsure of the little boy's reading abilities.

"Argh, you're in-cour-edible."

Chris laughed. Throughout the family adventures Chris had played with the kids, inticing their laughter and more than once getting them into trouble. Chelsea repeatedly said, "You're incorrigible," as the kids would laugh. Luke was attempting to steal her word.

"It's incorrigible and it doesn't really apply here, kid," he put the paper down, stood up and grabbed Luke tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "I need more coffee," he mumbled, swinging Luke back and forth much to his delight.

"Oh goodness, don't hit is head on anything," Susie said, reaching out a bit.

"I'm fine, Aunt Susie," Luke managed to say through giggles. Chris continued to the coffee pot and poured another cup. He threw a glance over his shoulder to Chelsea. She was wearing a flowered apron, hair was tossed up haphazardly, and she was kneading dough. Their eyes met and she shook her head.

"What?" Chris asked with a smirk.

Chelsea opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a doorbell. She leaned to look out the large picture window. "UPS works on Christmas Eve? Poor guys," she dusted the flour on the flowers of her apron. Her mother had already greeted the man in brown at the door.

"Chris?" Susie called from the porch.

He was flipping Luke onto his shoulder, "Yes ma'am?"

"This gentleman has a couple packages for you."

Chris lit up and jogged to the door. Two very large boxes were standing next to the door and the man held out the electronic receipt. "Sign here, Mr. Pine." Chris adjusted the small child in his arms, moving Luke from his right shoulder to his left, and scribbled his signature on the pad. "Thank you," the man turned and jogged down the driveway.

"Those are really big boxes," Luke said.

"Yep," Chris walked back inside, leaving the packages on the porch. He tossed the child on to the couch and went back to retrieve his delivery.

"What's in them?" Luke asked peering over the back of the couch. He was voicing what everyone else was thinking. Jules had stopped playing Wii with Lauren, Mr. Carter's eyes raised above the newspaper, Susie stood next to the door and Chelsea watched from the kitchen.

Chris smiled proudly, "I think they're from Santa."

"What? No way!" Lauren darted to Chris. One box was nearly as tall as she was. She gripped the edges and investigated the box. "Does it say North Pole on it? You must have been really good this year. They're big presents."

Chelsea scoffed.

"I heard that," Chris said.

"They're probably full of coal," she shouted as she headed back into the kitchen to her cookie dough. She was almost finished, then it would chill for a few hours before being rolled out, cut into the shapes of Christmas, baked and iced. Chris let the kids push and pull at the box as he watched her. The frilly apron was too big, she'd wrapped the apron strings around her waist and tied them in a neat bow roughly level with her belly button. Flour was smudged on the apron and on her left cheek. "Find the North Pole sticker," he instructed the kids, to keep the busy, and snuck into the kitchen. Chris didn't notice Jules watch him with a smile as he snuck up behind Chelsea. The sleeves of her chambray button down were rolled and pushed up past her elbows. Her palms were pressing heavily into the dough as she got back into the rhythm of kneading. "What are you doing?" she asked, not even looking back at him. Chris kissed the back of her head and slid his arms around her waist. Chelsea sighed contentedly. "This is not going to speed up the sugar cookie process."