A/N: This is a birthday gift to the amazing and irreplaceable lunabelle, whose support and amazing fic writing sustain me. You are the best and I hope you had an amazing day!

Who asked for more Single Parents AU? She did... but also shut up. Rhetorical question!

Enjoy.

An archetypal Christmas it was, all snow blanketing cars and streets and homes, with only the laughter of children as ambiance in the early morning. It was natural, what with the powdery sheets perfect for riding sleds and getting into sloppy snowball fights with weapons falling apart as they packed into little gloved hands. To Andy, it was like childhood. It was his childhood, after all, but now? Now he was awake likely a full half an hour before April and their kids. Their kids.

The thought was wild. Less than a year ago he had been a single father trying his best to get through life without ruining his son's all while keeping to himself. That was all until a fateful parent-teacher conference where he met her in rather unusual circumstances. He'd never done anything like that before and life was dull to say the least. He couldn't get over reminiscing as he yawned, waiting for a cup of coffee to get him through an extra early morning. But their kids... Sam might not see him as such, but he didn't mind thinking of her as his daughter. Sometimes she was just like her mother, witty and sour, and other times she retreated completely from the both of them and without a single word for a week would spend all her time in her room.

Andy didn't mind it. Giving Jack and himself what most people considered a proper family had been like a religious experience.

When the stupid automatic coffee machine thing that April had - a Marie Curie machine or whatever - made a loud ding, cautious footsteps followed his trail down to the kitchen. He knew the sounds of those steps creaking too well to be surprised by April appearing in the kitchen soon afterward.

She gave him a tired, quick smile before practically running to the coffee. She took the cup for himself and started making a new cup when Andy walked up behind her.

With one hand on her hip and the other snaking around her chest to reach for the cup she was drinking, Andy pulled her close to his chest. April chuckled, feeling what the morning and memories of Christmas Eve festivities did to him. "Early Christmas present?" she said with her voice all throaty, dry and hoarse.

"Wanna unwrap it?" Andy asked, laughing when she almost spit out her coffee. "Oh, babe, you should watch out. That's super hot."

"That's not what that was about," she said and turned in his arm. Lifting the cup again to her mouth, she took a slower drink and stared into his eyes. "Merry Christmas, by the way."

"So..."

April stared at him and set the cup down, resting her wrists on his shoulders and folding her fingers behind his neck in that comfy position. "So?" she asked. Andy noted the way she kept keeping him from pulling away. He grinned and leaned down to leave just the softest press of his lips against hers, the dark roasted coffee fresh on her breath and hot mixed with his. She broke them apart, just when Andy was starting to feel like they had some time and he might need a moment. "You were saying?"

"Oh, uh... I was just gonna, y'know," he tried to mask it with a laugh but instead ground forward just enough so that April met him with a devious little smirk. "Ask you if you wanted to unwrap your present early."

"Dude, seriously?" she laughed.

"I mean, I got you a-"

"Stop!"

"What? I just got you some more-"

"Andy, what if they hear us? Or wake up?" April scoffed and it apparently wasn't funny anymore. Whatever it was, Andy didn't know. "We cut it super close last night."

"I figured you'd want your pajamas before they wake up though," he finally got out with a sad exhale of breath. When he spoke, April cocked her head to the right and squinted at him. "What?"

"Really? That's what you wanted me to-" and she moved her delightful, skinny and cold fingers to give him air quotations, "Unwrap early?"

"Well, yeah!" he shook his head and gave her an equally curious look. "What did you think I was talking about?"

It turned out that opening pajamas for a present meant to be worn later led to the inevitable changing part of that little equation. It was then, nearly ten minutes later, that it dawned on Andy what he had said and what April had picked up on. Needless to say, it didn't take long - or much effort - to pick up where they left off from the night before, spent.

And later, when the kids woke up, neither of them took note of the flyaways in their parents' hair or the way that April swatted out some of the particularly unruly portions on the back of Andy's head. When April finally untucked the shirt that was partially stuck into her waistband, while they unwrapped presents, Andy laughed at her trying to sneak the motion. All it left him with was a moment to watch her slip her shirt up and catch sight of her bare side, still red with marks from his hands. None of that, whether they said anything about it, was noticed by Jack or Sam.

And when it came time to unwrap presents, April had said something about not needing much else.

In the quiet Christmas morning, partially snowed in and Andy too lazy to go out and shovel them free, that was what he knew beyond everything else. No matter whatever else they had for each other, this crisscrossed family was all he needed.