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'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Tower
not a creature was stirring except Pepper to glower,
for the wall with the stockings and chimney was gone,
and Tony’s Iron Man suit was on.
The team was at SHIELD even though it was late,
and Pepper proceeded to beat his chest plate.
He argued, “It’s not my fault! Just ask Cap!”
“I’d ask him if he weren’t in ER for a nap!”
For out in Times Square there’d been such a clatter,
and the Avengers had returned all weary and battered.
But an enemy’d followed them home, and got in
a few good swings before the Avengers could win.
Down went the Cap in a spell-induced rest,
so of course he’d been sent straight to medical’s best.
Now Sam and Natasha, Clint and Phil
were seated beside him: a Christmas vigil.
Bruce and the medics were working all night,
trying to make sure the Cap was all right.
Thor was in Asgard, asking his mum
if she might not send a nice cure along.
Tony alone had returned to explain
why Christmas was ruined once again,
when, who to their wondering eyes appeared
a metal-armed man with more stubble than beard.
“Where is he?” he growled in a Russian accent,
and down in a faint poor Pepper went.
Tony caught her and held her with care
as the Winter Soldier continued to glare.
“You must be Bucky,” Tony stated.
“If Rogers were here, he’d be elated.
Now it’s December; where have you been?”
“Off trying to make up for my sins.”
“Sorry to say the good Captain’s been cursed,
and a cure is unknown because magic’s the worst.”
So back out the window the Soldier, he flew,
with his guns full of lead—and heart full of it, too.
Silent as nightfall, he slunk into the room
where Avengers were sitting, the air soaked in gloom.
As he drew inside, they all turned around,
but Natasha signaled that they could stand down.
She was dressed in plain clothes in civilian mode.
“It’s about damn time that you finally showed.
There’s a bundle of spells interwoven with fate;
I was afraid you’d get here too late.”
“Verily!” Thor cheered, back from his trip
without a cure, but with a good tip.
Their spirits were lifted, sharing his cheer,
now that the Winter Soldier was here.
“The good Captain’s curse can be lifted,
but only by one who has been gifted
with his love, and gifts it right back.
It’s time to give your sweetheart a smack.”
“I don’t understand,” the Soldier replied.
“Hasn’t his true love aged and died?”
With a roll of her eyes, 'Tasha said, “You’re so thick.
I swear sometimes I live inside a chick flick.”
At that, the Soldier went straight to Steve’s bed,
reached out, drew back, and then lowered his head.
“For the love of god, just do it!” Clint hissed;
Emboldened, the Soldier gave Rogers a kiss.
The reaction was instant; the team all whistled,
but the Soldier had no chance to do more than bristle,
for Steve arched into him with a soft sigh.
(Phil discreetly wiped a tear from his eye.)
The Soldier learned many a thing that night
(other than the fact that Natasha’s always right):
Sometimes your dreams are worthwhile to pursue,
and sometimes Happily Ever After comes true.