Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews. I wanted to post this chapter on or before Christmas but couldn't finish it in time. I hope you all enjoy it just the same.

Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed or any of its characters except the ones I make up. I do not intend to make profit out of this story.

Sweet and ASAP on Holiday Spirit

"Merry Christmas baby bro," Wyatt said as he threw the confetti over Chris's head. The half elder only glared at his big brother. It was a good thing that Chris was not a fire starter, otherwise the confetti along with Wyatt's hair would have been on fire by now.

"Wyatt, I haven't even had my first cup of coffee yet. I really don't have any patience for your childish antics. We're not even religious. Besides, who throws confetti to celebrate Christmas?" Chris asked gritting his teeth.

"You cannot dampen my Christmas spirit by your grumpiness. And before you start again, I remember your speech about 'Jesus being born sometime in spring' very well. Christmas doesn't have to be about religion. It's about celebration and happiness. Hence the confetti," Wyatt said throwing another handful of the colorful stuff over Chris's head, knowing well that it will irritate his brother to no end.

"You do realize that you have to clean that up, don't you?" Chris asked looking pointedly at the mess Wyatt had just created on the floor.

"Lighten up, bro. Why do you have to be so neurotic all the time? Ever heard this concept called 'having fun'?" Wyatt said rolling his eyes. Sometimes it amazed the twice blessed how him and his baby brother got along so well. In so many ways they were polar opposites. He was always cheerful while his baby brother was almost always grumpy. He didn't mind a bit of untidiness in their shared apartment, while Chris insisted on perfect order. Chris was a kind of person who would pick out his clothes for next day before going to sleep the previous night, while Wyatt would simply pickup a shirt, sniff it, and put it on if it didn't smell too sweaty. And if he didn't find a non-sweaty shirt of his own, he didn't hesitate to steal one of Chris's. This, of course, irritated Chris immensely. It was a wonder how they were not at each other's throats all the time.

"I'm not neurotic," Chris growled as he grabbed the coffee grinder. Wyatt stared at his baby brother as if he had just declared that their aunt Phoebe was the best secret-keeper in the whole universe.

"Not neurotic? Chris, look at the shelves in this kitchen. The handles on all the pots and pans are pointing in the exact same direction. The cups are no exception. For goodness sake, you have ordered all the spices alphabetically. Like you can't just see that there is cumin in this bottle without it being fifth bottle from the left. This is very definition of neurotic," Wyatt said exasperated.

"That's not cumin, those are fennel seeds. And so what if I'm a little obsessive. You'd turn this apartment into a pigsty if it weren't for me," Chris said squinting a little as he measured exactly thirty-two ounces of water and poured it into the kettle. Their coffee mugs contained sixteen ounces of coffee each and he always found it maddening when Wyatt filled his cup to the brim in order not to waste the coffee and then slurped the hot liquid from the mug still on the table, so as not to spill its contents by trying to lift it.

"Ok. So I don't mind a bit of chaos in my life but you need to loosen up a little and get that stick out of your ass before you get splinters," Wyatt said smirking.

"You want me to loosen up, do you? Very well. How about I begin by not cleaning up after you? Do you even know how to operate the washing machine? Let see how many dates you go on when you run out of clean clothes and all your shirts smell like gym clothes. Or should I relax in my free time like you and stop keeping track of all the bills and their due dates? Let's see how well you can 'chill out' when there is no phone or cable or Internet because you forgot to pay the bills on time. Or shall I…" Chris's angry rant would have continued but he paused a moment after noticing Wyatt's expression.

"You're right. I'm really thankful that you're here to maintain some semblance of order in this house," Wyatt said in a sincere tone. Chris froze. He didn't sense any hint of sarcasm in Wyatt's tone. On the other hand, his tone was carefully serious, almost too careful. As if he was trying to defuse a potentially volatile situation. Ordinarily, Wyatt would have argued that he does just as much to pull his weight when he repairs stuff like broken appliances and their car. Chris expected Wyatt to claim just as fervently that Chris would have frozen to death if Wyatt hadn't fixed the furnace. Just because Wyatt couldn't cook to save his life or because he found balancing the checkbook to be incredibly boring task, he wasn't as useless around the house as Chris was claiming. But he didn't expect this meek capitulation from the mighty twice blessed. And then it dawned on him.

"Wyatt, what have you done?" Chris asked slowly, his hands still frozen in the middle of measuring the precise amount of coffee beans.

"Whatever do you mean?" Wyatt asked innocently. Chris dropped the measuring spoon back in the jar of medium roasted coffee beans and turned around to face his big brother who was doing his best not to look him in the eye. This was further proof that Wyatt was up to something.

"What… have… you… done?" Chris asked stressing on each word.

"Nothing. Why would you assume I've done something wrong," Wyatt asked with the most innocent face, the kind of expression one assumes when meeting the parents of their girlfriend or boyfriend for the first time.

"Don't insult my intelligence. First you irritate me and argue with me. And then you give up the fight far too quickly and easily, almost as if you want to indulge my ego. This either means that you've gotten yourself in trouble and need me to bail you out, or that you're about to ask for an enormous favor. There is no other reason why you'd so flimsily attempt to soothe my ego," Chris stated, staring at his big brother suspiciously. After a few seconds of intense glaring, Wyatt cracked.

"Alright! It's the latter, actually," Wyatt said sheepishly. Chris glared at the ceiling with an expression that said 'why me?' He had no reason to believe that the elders had anything to do with this, yet. But he was irritated with them just as a matter of principle.

"I may or may not have offered our services as Santa and his elven helpers," Wyatt's explained sheepishly and winced as he anticipated an explosion from Chris's direction.

"No, absolutely not. There is no chance in hell. What in the world possessed you…?" Chris began his angry rant but was interrupted by Wyatt's hurried explanation.

"Just hear me out, Chris. I was at this…" Wyatt's attempt to make his point failed, as it was Chris's turn to interrupt.

"Hear what out, Wyatt? I have no intention of dressing up like a fat guy in pointy red hat, sweating like a pig and suffer through hours and hours of whiny little brats making outrageous wishes. Not to mention three out of five kids think it's funny to kick Santa in the shin," Chris was seething by now, remembering that miserable evening a couple of years ago, when Wyatt had talked him into taking this Santa gig to make some extra cash.

"Actually, you're not the Santa. I remember the last time you were Santa. You lost your temper and told that one kid that you'll turn him into a little Barbie doll and give him to his sister to play dress up with, if he didn't get off your lap immediately. You didn't stop at that. You made your eyes turn white the way you do when you're about to use your electro-kinesis. That poor kid was so traumatized, he scampered out of the store and accidentally ran into the ladies bathroom. No no no no no. You're not qualified to be a Santa. Santa is supposed to be jolly and kind not mean and scary," Wyatt said shuddering as he remembered the incidence from two years ago.

"First of all, he wasn't a kid. He was a creepy teenager trying to sit on my lap. What teenager believes in Santa anyway? Secondly, I was irritated because the kids were hitting me and their mothers were hitting on me the whole evening. I was well within my rights to loose my temper when that brat asked for some kind of hair-growth formula to grow body hair. That was simply disturbing. And lastly, I never asked to be Santa. In fact I've been refusing to be Santa all this time so your claim that I'm not 'qualified' to be Santa is really pointless. Nevertheless, if you don't want me to dress up in a fluffy red suit, what do you want from me?" Chris asked a bit confused.

"Did you miss the 'elven helper' part?" Wyatt asked hesitantly. Chris stared at his big brother incredulously for a couple of seconds before suddenly dissolving in orbs and vanishing. Wyatt just stood there, confused. After a couple of seconds, Chris returned with a relatively neutral face.

"Where did you go?" Wyatt asked, fearing for the answer.

"Just to the underworld, to see if it had frozen over. It hasn't. So the answer is no, I will not be Santa's little elven helper," Chris said, leaving no room for argument.

"But I promised," Wyatt said pleadingly.

"That sounds like a 'you problem' not a 'me problem' or even a 'we problem'. You should know better than to make promises on my behalf. Besides, both of us are earning enough, working as teacher's assistants now. Not to mention the money I make by tutoring high-school kids in biology. Why would you even go looking for this job?" Chris asked as he poured exactly thirty-two ounces of boiling water over the ground coffee in the press. He took a couple of deep breaths and began reciting the names of all the bones in human body. He briefly considered how it would feel to break each of those bones in Wyatt's body but he was relatively calm by the time he had contemplated breaking Wyatt's mandible with a well-placed left hook. The calming techniques taught to him by his uncle Coop were really handy.

"Did I not mention this was a volunteer position? We're not getting paid," Wyatt said nervously fidgeting. He could Sense Chris's glare burning holes in his right temple.

"Where?" Chris asked in a carefully controlled voice.

"I was at this orphanage at the Elm and Second Street intersection. One of my charges, Jackson, volunteers there. They have this make a wish kind of program there. He's in charge of gathering donations for buying the gifts. Their regular Santa guy has three kids of his own and had to take a paying job. Jackson asked me if I could help him out and…" Wyatt's explanation was interrupted by Chris's sigh.

"Alright. I'll do it," Chris agreed smiling a bit resignedly. He knew he was going to do it as soon as Wyatt uttered the word 'orphanage'. He'd dress-up like Rudolph the freaking red-nosed reindeer if it meant spreading some happiness among kids who had suffered loss of their parents at a very young age.

"Wonderful! And trust me. It gets easier after the first day," Wyatt declared excitedly.

"First day? What do you mean first day? How long is this program exactly?" Chris asked a little scared.

"At the orphanage? Just for one evening, on the twenty-third. But then we're going to the hospital on Christmas Eve and…" Wyatt began explaining what he had planned for the two of them. Chris smiled as he realized that his irritation at Wyatt's presumptuous behavior had long since evaporated, on the contrary, he was feeling oddly proud of his big brother. The twice blessed went on for a minute or so before he realized Chris was watching him curiously.

"What?" Wyatt asked confused. Chris was about to respond 'I'm proud of you' but thought better of it. Wyatt's head was already almost as big as his heart and Chris certainly didn't want it to get any bigger.

"Nothing," Chris said shrugging as he took a sip of his perfectly brewed sixteen ounces of coffee. He made sure his sentiments didn't reach his brother via their brotherly link. But somehow, judging from the small smirk that now adorned Wyatt's face, he knew exactly what his brother was thinking.

"So you're not mad at me?" Wyatt knew Chris wasn't mad at him anymore but decided to ask just to be sure.

"No Wyatt. I'm not mad at you. It's good cause and I'd be glad to help in any capacity I can. Bear in mind, if you had said it was a paying job to help you get that new playstation you've been eyeing for past month or so, I'd have throttled you," Chris responded a bit sternly.

"I know. Thanks Kit! I knew you were going to help. And if any of the kids are mean to you, I promise I'll make it up to you!" Wyatt said giving Chris a tight hug.

"Oh… you will! I'll make sure that you will," Chris said with an awful smile on his face. Wyatt couldn't help but shudder a little.

Happy holidays everyone! And wish you all a joyful and productive new year!

Kindly read and review.