Chapter Three

His alarm blared out in the comforts of his apartment. Without even opening his eyes, he knew that it was still pitch black out and that it was cold. Letting out a small groan, he kept his eyes shut and grabbed at the blanket, pulling it up under his chin. He would grope for the alarm if it wasn't so cold out. He heard the clicking of nails across the floor, and before he could react, his dog, Dodger, was upon him.

"No. Get off. I'm not getting up."

Dodger continued to nuzzle at his face, trying to coax his owner to join the land of the living. Chris let out a sigh, unearthing a hand from under the sheets to gently push Dodger away, chuckling softly.

"Alright, alright. I'm getting up."

Sitting up slowly, Chris opened his eyes and turned to look at his alarm clock. He blinked back the sleep as his hand reached out to shut the alarm off. It took him a moment to realize why he had had to get up this early. When the reason came back to him, he felt as if a weight of some sort had been placed upon his chest. It had been a little bit of time since his last gig. What if something were to go wrong?

He moved to swing his legs out of bed, beginning to walk out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. Seeing his owner leave the room, Dodger jumped off the now messy bedspread and followed him to the kitchen.

"I know you're hungry," said Chris with a small smile, retrieving the bag of dog food. He moved towards Dodger's bowl and began to pour the food into it. "Here you go, boy."

Dodger couldn't seem to get to his bowl fast enough, half pushing Chris' arm out of the way as he retracted the bag once the bowl was full. Chris chuckled as he put the bag back where it had been before. Before he could move to make his own breakfast, his phone began to ring. Unsure who would be calling him that early, he moved to go pick it up without looking at the Caller ID.

"Yes?" he asked as he pressed the 'talk' button and put the phone up to his ear.

"You're up then. Or did I wake you?"

It was Sebastian. Of course it would be him.

"Are you calling because you think that I'm ditching my first day of this job?"

"Well, I just wanted to make sure. I mean, you weren't exactly excited about taking the job in the first place."

"Seb, I'm going. Don't worry. The alarm and Dodger both woke me up."

Sebastian laughed at that.

"Alright then. As long as you're going to go in this morning. You can expect a visit from me at some point. Whenever I can get down there today..."

Chris sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his bed head hair.

"What for?"

"For support."

"Seb..."

"...And a picture or two. I told Robert and he wants pictures."

"I knew it."

"I'll just take a few. I promise that I won't torture you."

"And why do I find myself having a hard time believing that?" asked Chris with a smirk, softly chuckling to himself as he moved to start making his breakfast.

"Stop freaking out about it so much. I'll see you in a bit. Bye Chris."

"Yeah, alright. Bye."

Chris hung up the phone, staring at it for a few minutes. Today was certainly going to end up being an eventful day one way or another.


As Chris finished slipping into the moth-ball scented Santa suit that Sebastian had presented to him a few days ago, he heard a small knock against the bathroom door. This single stall bathroom was proving to not be the best changing spot. He had already had to slip out into the hallway several times partially dressed to allow people with tiny bladders to relieve themselves.

"Hang on a second!" Chris cried out, yanking at the fraying black belt again. He was almost done getting dressed. Whoever was waiting would just have to hold it for a few more seconds.

"It's just me!" came Smithy's voice.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm almost read-DARN IT!"

"Are you okay, Chris?"

Chris looked at the snapped black belt in his hands. He had obviously either put the belt on wrong, or the condition that Sebastian had given it to him in was not the best. He moved to start tugging at the belt that was still strung through the belt loops of his own jeans. Santa was going to have to have a Levi belt for at least a day or two.

"I'm fine. I'll be there in a second," replied Chris as he made quick work of putting the belt about his waist to hold up the red felt sweat pants and keep the Santa pudge up on his stomach where it should be.

Smithy's voice was no more as Chris finished putting the belt on. He was grateful for the opportunity to breathe. He moved to take his clothes off the hook and drape them over his arm. He'd have to find a place to keep them until that evening when he could change back. As he moved to open the door, a flash greeted his eyes. He quickly shut his eyes, bringing up his free arm to shield his face. Before he could tell whoever the photographer was, off, he heard the familiar laugh of Sebastian Stan ring through the air.

"Sebastian! Really?"

As Chris opened his eyes and brought his arm away from his face, he noticed that Smithy was sheepishly shrinking back against the gray wall behind him. Sebastian was still laughing as the flash on his phone went off again.

"How about you turn the flash off?" said Chris, reaching out to bat at Sebastian's phone, almost causing it to slip through his fingers and onto the cement floor under his feet.

"HEY! Careful with my phone!"

"How about you be careful with my eye sight? Santa is old, not blind," said Chris with a smirk. He brushed past Sebastian to walk back down the hall a little ways and into Mr. Sweet's office. He decided that he would leave his clothes here until after work. He didn't really have any other place to put them.

"Aren't you jolly ol' Saint Nick?" asked Sebastian as he leaned in the doorway. "I called you. I warned you I would be coming at some point to take pictures. I had a set break, so here I am."

"Why didn't you knock on the door? Why did you make Smithy do it?"

"To be able to capture the element of surprise," said Sebastian, turning the phone around in his hand to show Chris the shocked picture of Chris that he had pictured there. "The look on your face..."

"Well, you've had your laughs, but I've got work to do. Don't get me fired."

"I'm the one that got you this gig in the first place. You think I want to get you fired from it?"

Chris chuckled, moving to tug up the white beard over his face before coughing.

"Where did you store this thing?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? This beard smells like moth balls. Matter of fact, this whole suit reeks of moth balls."

"I got it from the costume department. They loaned it to me."

"Well, it maybe should have gone to the dry cleaner's first, but it's fine, I guess. Hopefully the kids won't notice."

"I'm sure the last thing on the minds of the children coming to see you today is how Santa smells."

Smithy moved to poke his head in the room then, peeking over Sebastian's shoulder as he looked at Chris.

"Mr. Sweet wants us both on the floor. The first children are starting to arrive."

"I'll be right there," said Chris to Smithy. He watched Smithy wander off before looking at Sebastian again. "You sticking around anymore, or are you going back to set?"

"I have to go back to set, but I can meet you after work - say around five or six? We can meet at the diner we met at the other day."

"Why that diner?" asked Chris.

"It's nice being able to eat without being mobbed," said Sebastian. He soon realized he shouldn't have said that in front of Chris, especially given what had been happening to Chris as of late.

"It's alright," said Chris, waving a dismissive hand Sebastian's way once he saw the look of concern on his face. "Don't worry. We can meet at the diner, sure. I liked that sandwich I had the other day."

"Then it's settled," said Sebastian, "And in the meantime, I'll just be texting a copy of this picture to Robert."

"Why is he so interested?" asked Chris, moving to walk around Sebastian then and down the hall towards the toy department.

"Because he was just as worried about you as I was, Chris, and when he found out that you were going to be playing a Santa, he couldn't wait to see what you would look like."

"Well, make sure you add a comment like 'season's greetings' or something snarky that he'd like seeing. A digital jab from me to him," said Chris.

"I will. I promise."

"Well, there you are Christopher, and you're looking mighty jolly! Mighty jolly indeed!" came Mr. Sweet's boisterous voice then, cutting into the conversation between Sebastian and Chris. Mr. Sweet walked over and clapped both of his hands on Chris' shoulder, staring him straight in the eyes. "Ready to fulfill children's wishes of meeting Santa Claus?"

"Yes, sir," said Chris; his smile hidden partially by the white beard on his face.

"That's the answer I'm looking to hear!" said Mr. Sweet.

Mr. Sweet then seemed to realize that Sebastian was standing behind Chris. Mr. Sweet's smile turned to Sebastian as he said, "Nice to see you again. Came to show your support to your friend?"

"Yes, I have, but I'm all supported out," said Sebastian with a chuckle; a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry, but you must excuse me. I have to get back to work before I'm missed."

"Of course. Come by and visit again though. You can always be an elf."

"Yes, Seb. Come back and be an elf. You could be a holiday Spock," said Chris.

"Chris, Spock is not an elf. Don't make me call Chris Pine on you," said Sebastian with a chuckle and an eye roll. "I'll see you later tonight."

Without another word, Sebastian moved to leave and Chris was being ushered into the toy department and towards Santa's chair. Off to the side of the chair sat Smithy. He looked a bit odd with his knees slightly bunched up due to the shortness of the chair, but he seemed okay with it. A red and green stripped hat adorned his head with two pointy ears stitched to the side of it that covered his own ears. On his lap lay a coupon book that he would fill out upon hearing what the children wanted most for Christmas. Moving towards the chair, Chris moved to take a seat. He turned his head to look over at Smithy.

"Next time Sebastian asks you to do something, make him do his own dirty work," said Chris, chuckling.

"Yes, Mr. Evans, sir."

"Smithy, I told you. You can call me Chris."

"SHHHH!" said Mr. Sweet, shushing them. Both Chris and Smithy turned to see the reason for Mr. Sweet's shushing slowly walking down the aisle. A child and their parents had arrived. It was time for the job to begin.