Chapter Text
Snow.
It covered everything the eye could see.
Dusting everything like a powdered doughnut.
Flakes falling, laying upon the ground, to be crunched underfoot. Scattering upon bundled up shoulders and hair. Giving off a sparkly shine under the flickering orange lamps.
This is what was happening currently. A short man, making his way to his destined building. Hand’s shoved deep in his pockets, nose nipping red, even with how used to the cold he was.
Only thinking one thing.
He had to get you.
All the while, in the building.
You sat crouched, staring in front of you, narrowing your eyes at the object of your focused gaze.
“You are genetically enhanced. You are a portable night light,” you told Rudolph as she munched away on her greens.
You watched each other, just like you had been for a while, over the gate of her pen.
You were on reindeer feeding duty that day.
Well… that’s what you told everyone.
In reality, you were just bored out of your mind and desperately wanted to stay as far away from your muttering father and his list’s.
“If I clap my hand’s, will your nose turn on?”
“You really need to stop pestering the animals.”
The sudden voice behind you caused you to jump out of your skin.
“Gah!” you yelled, spinning on your heels to look at who had just scared the living hell out of you. Only to come face to face with Tim. One of the head elves.
“What the fuck, Tim?!”
“Woah, woah, woah. Watch the language there, buddy,” he chided, hands raised, making a calming motion.
“Well, don’t sneak up on me, then!”
“I didn’t sneak up on you." ‘Bullshit’. "I came to fetch you.”
“Fetch me?” I’m not some dog.“
"Then why do you act like one when there’s food around?” Tim sassed, folding his arms over his chest. In a condescending manner.
“Because I like food!” A few moments later, you sighed at the man, thumb and forefinger holding the bridge of your nose. “Why were you sent to fetch me?”
“The big man wants to see you, says it’s important.”
“Important like, "did you finish the last cookie?” important? Or, “why did you go joy-riding on a reindeer, again?” important?“
"Neither.”
You were startled by that.
Shocked to your very core.
“Worse?” you asked, getting a nod in return, “Oh, God,” came out in a breath, “What is it?”
“No clue.” Tim shrugged. “Nothing life-threatening. That’s all I know.”
“Why didn’t you start with that?!” you yelled as you began striding from the stables, leaving the elf behind.
“What?” He raised his arms. “So, I’m not allowed to have a bit of fun?!”
“You’re a dick!”
A laugh met your ears as you walked through the large doors, your new destination: Your father’s office.
Without knocking, you barged through his office door.
Finding the bearded man sat behind his desk, mile-long rolls of paper littered with names, strewn about. Some even trailing from the desk and across the floor as the man read.
“The door has a knocker for a reason,” he mumbled, still focused on the paper, pen scratching away.
Looking to the side, you spotted the reindeer-knocker upon the open door, reaching over and slamming it twice.
“Better?”
Your father looked up, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. Pushing his glasses further up his nose.
“Much.”
“You wanted me? Tim said it was important.”
He hummed, folding his hands on his desk in front of him, “And I bet he made it seem like something was seriously wrong?”
“He’s sadistic.” Was all the confirmation he needed.
Nodding with a chuckle, he spoke, “I have a job for you.”
“Is it something not boring? Because I really don’t want to read through thousands of kids names, thanks.”
Your father chuckled again.
“No, no. It’s nothing like that.” He rose from his seat, walking to the giant round window in his office, overlooking a good portion of the town. Standing in front of his magical map, waving you over.
As soon as you were stood beside him, he placed a hand upon your shoulders.
“Now, this may seem cliche-”
“No.” You shook your head, pulling away from him and walking to the other side of the room.
“But you haven’t even-”
“No. I am not going to go spread "Christmas Cheer”, like some shitty movie.“
Your father sighed.
"Listen, okay? Just listen.” You glared at him lightly, folding your arms across your chest but never uttering a word. Showing him of your willingness for him to continue, “Thank you.”
Taking a deep breath, he began his speech, “You’ve been bored here for a long time now. We can all see that. But you are destined to take over one day.” You rolled your eyes at that. He was like a broken record with the whole “this is your destiny. This will all be yours one-day” thing. And he knew your feelings about it. “But.” He continued, knowing you were milliseconds away from interrupting him, “I know that the time for that is very far off, in the future.”
Now that was new.
“So, if you do just this one thing for me. I’ll ease up- I’ll ease up anyway. It’s just… you know, our family. What we do. And you haven’t been happy with it for a long time,” he spoke, references your downfall of Christmas spirit in the town you grew up in, “I just want to see that happiness back. So, I’m hoping that maybe if you go out and try to bring some into the life of someone without it, then maybe some will pass back into you.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“Then, at least you would have gotten away from this town for a little while. You deserve to see the world, just like I did when I was your age. So… what do you say?”
“How long will I be gone for?”
“Twelve days- I know it’s not the longest!” He raised a finger, stopping you from throwing your remarks at him. “But I wanted you back in time for Christmas Eve. I’m taking you out on the slay with me. And your mother and I want you back for Christmas day, too.”
You furrowed your eyebrows when he mentioned Christmas Eve.
“I swear if this is just your way of trying to get me into being "the next Santa Claus”-“
"It’s not!” He shook his head. “I… I miss taking you out with me. Remember when you were a kid, and I used to take you every year? Even on my trial runs! I just… I miss spending time with my child. And that was our thing. You’re all grown up now. And you deserve to live your own life. But I would still like for us to spend time with you, doing our thing.”
You sighed at his speech.
“Jesus Christ,” you whispered, “Fine. Fine. We haven’t done that in a while. It might be nice.”
“Yes!” he yelled in success, raising his arms high above his head, “What about your… "mission”?“
"Yes, I’ll do that, too,” you walked over again, looking down at the map with your father’s arm around your shoulder. “Where am I going?”
He pointed down to a red dot.
“New York City.”
—
“Ma-!”
“Dear!” Your mother turned to you, not noticing your packed leather duffle bag, pinching your cheek, and handing you a cherry pie, “Take this to your father, will you? He overworks himself too much, and you know how he works better with something sweet.”
“Ma-”
“Oh. But come back quick, you can help me by peeling potatoes for dinner-”
“Ma!”
She jumped at your yell, turning to face you once again.
You sighed, “I’m sorry. I can’t,” you said, placing the pie on the counter beside you.
“You can’t what? Take the pie up to your father, or help me with dinner?”
“Either,” you said slowly.
At this, she finally spotted the bag in your hand, eyes becoming soft and slightly sad.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Yeah. Pa’s sending me out on a "Christmas Cheer Mission”.“ You rolled your eyes, but she could still see your excitement to go out on your own for a little while. "It’s corny, I know.”
“No. No.” Her hands came to rest on your upper arms, looking up at you with a smile, plainly hiding her sadness behind a smile. She was your mother. Obviously, she was sad to see you go but was happy that you were happy. “This is great. He finally asked you… I’m happy that you’re spreading your wings.”
“Thanks, ma.”
You pulled back from the hug with a curious face.
“How long had he been planning this?”
“For about a week now.”
“And you knew?” you stated, rather than asked, with a smile.
“We all did,” a voice sounded behind you as your mother opened her mouth to speak.
Turning, you spotted Tim, a knowing smile on his face.
“Of course you did.”
“Aha.” He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a red and gold ticket. “Here is your ride.”
You took the slip from the man, reading what was on it.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
—
There you sat, not even an hour later, arms crossed over your chest, a scowl on your face while resting into your seat.
On the train.
The train.
Your father has a literal magical slay that he could have used to whip you over to New York shorter than it would have taken to even get to the train station.
But now.
You had to go the long route.
You didn’t have any proof.
But you were inclined to blame Tim.
Fucking Tim.
It was definitely him.
Sighing, you wiggled lower in your seat, strapping in for the long ride ahead of you, planning on sleeping through most of the trip.
If only that was the case.
“Ah!” you yelled, sitting up straight. Quickly you pulled your phone from your pocket, seeing who was calling you, “What?!”
A laugh met your ears.
Tim.
“Just wanted to wish you a happy trip.”
“I hate you,” you replied dryly, only receiving another cocky laugh in return before the man hung up on you.
“Bastard.” you hissed, looking down at your phone, “I’ll get him one day. I will.”
—
Finally.
Finally.
You arrived in New York, walking from JFK Airport, a day or so later.
Stretching your back, in cracked some.
“God, am I in my thirty’s now?” you commented, referencing your back.
As soon as you hailed a yellow cab, a text buzzed through your phone.
Throwing your duffel into the back of the taxi and sliding in, telling the driver your destination as you read the text.
It was from your father.
'Good luck.’
You smiled. Sending him a “thank you” text.
That is if 'my middle name is luck' could be considered as a, “thank you”.
“Visiting for the holidays?” the driver asked you.
“No.” you shook your head. “Uh, I’m here for a job, basically.”
“Oh, really?” What job?“
How do you tell this guy, "my dad’s sending me to spread Christmas Cheer” without sounding absolutely crazy?
“My dad got me an internship.
"Oh, nice!” he nodded excitedly. “Must be exciting to be able to work with The Avengers.”
“What?”
“The Avengers. I’m taking you to The Avengers Tower. I’m guessing you’ve got a 'Stark Industries’ internship, but still, there’s so much chance for you to meet The Avengers.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, yeah,” you just nodded along. You’ve heard of The Avengers before. A lot of kids writing about them in letters to your father. But you had never seen them before, nor did you know much about them. Except, that they were superheroes, of course.
What have you gotten yourself into?
Just then, you received another text.
This time from Tim.
'Your rental apartment’.
And then there was an address.
'Just give the receptionist your name, and they’ll give you the key.’
'Have fun, spreading the Christmas Cheer!’
'Dickhead’, you replied.
“Uh, can I change the destination?”
“Sure! Where to?”
—
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you husked to yourself as you walked through the streets of New York, “What the hell am I gonna say to her? "Hello, complete stranger! So nice to meet you, I’m here to bring you Christmas Spirit!”.“ you scoff, shaking your head, nearing the tower with every step you took. "That is if they even let me see her- He just had to go and pick a superhero, didn’t he?”
Sighing heavily, you stepped foot into the reception of The Avengers Tower. Shaking the snow from your body, brushing the stubborn collection of flakes from your shoulders.
The woman behind the desk looked at you, waiting to help you if you had reason to be there.
What the fuck were you gonna do?
“Hi.” You raised your hand to the woman awkwardly. “I don’t have an appointment or anything.”
She looked at you sceptically, trying her hardest to be sneaky, as she lowered her hand under the desk, ready to sound the alarm if needed. All the while, the few security guards, especially the one that you had just walked past, behind you, watched you with steady eyes.
This could go very wrong.
You had to find a way out.
“I was just wondering if you had directions for the closest subway?”
She smiled at you softly, anxiety flowing from her and the security guards relaxing too. Going back to surveying the area, all the while still keeping an eye on you.
The woman quickly gave you directions to the nearest subway, wishing you a Happy Holidays as you left.
Now, what the fuck were you gonna do?
How were you gonna find a superhero and not get hurt in the process?
You decided to go back to your temporary apartment and think of a plan there.
It’s fine.
You still had eleven and a half days.
Although you wanted this done as fast as possible.
Just give this woman some “Holiday Cheer”, that way you can have as long as possible to explore before you had to go back.
That’s when you suddenly bumped into someone in the middle of the street.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?! I didn’t hurt you, did I?!”
You looked down to see a rambling kid glancing at every part of your body, trying to find an injury.
You could hardly tell what he was saying anymore, with how fast he was rambling on.
“Kid, kid.” You raised your arms to calm him down and stop his worried jumble of words. The boy took a deep breath once he had silenced himself, eyes still full of anxiety. But at least you didn’t have to worry about him passing out, thanks to air loss. “I’m fine. There’s no need to worry. Are you okay?”
He nodded quickly with a smile on his face, “I’m fine.” He juts out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Peter Parker.”
'Peter Parker’
You tried to remember that name from your father’s lists. Thinking about it hard enough, you had the distinct memory of the boy asking for, and I quote, 'everything Iron Man’ a good few years ago.
You smiled at that and the boy’s innocence, taking his hand and shaking.
“It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker." Asker of 'a real -in full caps, and underlined three times- Iron Man helmet. "I’m Y/N…" Now, what the fuck do you say? Do you tell him the truth? Well, it’s not like anyone, but a child would think you’re really a part of Santa Claus’ family. "Claus.”
“Oh, dude, no way. Like Santa?”
“Exactly like Santa.” You nodded. 'You don’t know how true that is, kid!’ "Got a lot of shit for it at school when I was younger.“
Peter nodded with a chuckle. "I bet!” He then glanced behind you at The Tower. “Hey. Did you just come out of The Tower? You have a meeting with Mr Stark?”
'Mr Stark, huh? Did the kid finally meet his idol?’
“Oh.” You glanced over your shoulder at the bustling building. “No, no. I was just asking for directions.”
“Oh,” the kid replied slowly, then you finally noticed the bags in his hands and on his back.
“What’s with the bags kid, you moving?”
Peter looked down at the worn duffles, backpack, and drawbacks in his hands. Eyes lighting up as they returned to you.
“No, these are gifts for Mr Stark at The Avengers. I made them all myself!” he stated proudly.
You already loved this kid and his golden heart.
“You need a hand with them? It looks like a lot.”
This might be your in.
“I can handle it. I’m strong,” Peter spoke, trying to sound tough.
You laughed while nodding at the boy.
“I bet you are.” You then plucked two duffles and a drawstring from his hands. The biggest ones out of them all. Leaving him to carry the backpack, a duffel, and a drawstring. Along with another backpack and duffel over his back. “But it’s always nice to have some help sometimes.”
Shyly, the boy smiled and thanked you as you began walking back to The Tower.
This was perfect.
Hopefully, you could bump into this Natasha Romanoff while you’re there. And in not, you could scout out the place and send for some of your father’s various “alternative entrance” item’s.
“Oh, hello,” the same woman greeted, recognising you instantly, “Do you need more directions?”
“No. Just giving the kid here a had with these bags.”
“I bumped into them on the street, Miss Terry,” Peter informed the woman, “They’re pretty cool!”
“You’re really good at that,” Peter stated. Watching you carry two bags over your shoulder and a duffel in your other hand while also watching where he was going. Something that you both forgot to do before.
A bright smile span across your face.
“Well, it’s kinda my namesake to be good at carrying things over my shoulder and going down chimneys.”
The boy laughed at your words. Remembering your very in theme for the holiday season, name. Not knowing how true, said joke was.
“Okay…”
You caught on to the woman’s hesitancy instantly. Well, it was easy to do so, considering she wasn’t trying to hide it.
“Don’t worry,” you told her, “I’m not a stalker or anything… which, I now know, makes me sound like a stalker.”
“Don’t worry,” a voice sounded behind you. Turning your head to find the owner, you spotted a large man with a beard and an ID card hanging from the pocket of his suit jacket, “I’ll escort them both up.”
“Hi, Happy!” Peter greeted cheerfully, as he came to your side.
“Hi, Peter.” The man you now knew to be 'Happy’ then pointed a finger in your face, trying to take on a threatening tone, while leading you towards the elevators. “No funny business.”
“Wouldn’t think about it.”
“Good. Because we have someone who could easily find that out.”
“Oh, is Miss Maximoff finally back from her mission?” Peter asked excitedly, watching Happy press a button, unknown to you where it lead.
“She is.” Happy smiled with a nod, unable to hide his “softer side” from the boy in front of you. “And she is probably waiting for her hug from you.”
“Awesome!” The boy smiled excitedly, then continued to turn to you. “You wanna meet Wanda?”
“Uh…”
“I don’t think that would be the best idea,” Happy spoke. He was about to continue when the elevator doors slid open and in bound a brunette. Peter being swept up in their embrace.
“I missed you, Petie!” she squealed.
“Hi, Wanda!”
You turned to Happy. “I don’t think there’s a choice anymore.”
Not long after you were introduced to the witch, you helped Peter put his wrapped, homemade gifts under the giant tree.
“Well, well,” a smoky voice sounded to your left, “Doesn’t this look festive.”
Peter span on his heel, practically skipping up to the red-headed woman to give her a hug. Which she accepted with open arms and a bright smile upon her face as he said, “Hi, Mis Romanoff.”
'Shit’
Your “mission” just got a lot more difficult.
If that truly was Natasha Romanoff and not just someone who shared her last name.
You were in heaps of trouble.
She was beautiful.
As soon as you had peered over your shoulder at the new voice, you were captivated.
Everything about her had you in essentially a trance-like state, from her red hair cut into a wavy bob. Her green eyes, her nose, all the way to how she had to stand on her toes to hug the small boy properly.
You were entranced.
Wanda, who was stood behind you, noticed this right away. Snorting at you, which you paid no mind to.
“Hello?” Natasha spoke cautiously to you, once she had pulled away from Peter, “Who are you?”
“Oh.” You raised your hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”
“Natasha,” was all she replied with.
“Miss Romanoff, you’ll never guess what their last name is.”
“What?”
“Claus.” The boy smiled happily.
Natasha ticked a brow at you. “You must hate this time of year.”
“Meh.” You shrugged honestly. “It’s complex feelings towards it.”
“Please tell me you celebrate Christmas?” Wanda asked, just as overjoyed by this new news the boy had given.
“I do. Yes.”
“Yes!” the witch celebrated to herself, satisfied by your answer.
“Don’t let Tony catch wind of your name,” Natasha advised you, “You’ll never live it down.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Anyway,” the red-head started, “Why are you here?”
“Was helping the boy bring up his gifts for you all.” You waved down at the wrapped boxes under the tree.
“I see…” She came closer and closer, and you had the distinct impression that this was like the predator stalking its prey. “Tell me, Y/N Claus… is there anything I need to be worried about with you?”
“Natasha,” Wanda warned, with a playful roll of her eyes.
You shook your head, “No. Unless you consider Santa jokes worrying, that is.”
She hummed, “I bet you’ve become very proficient in them over the years.” She was only a few feet away now, still making her way closer to you.
“Well, wouldn’t you?”
The red-head was a foot away now.
“I-”
“Jesus Christ.” In walked a man with a peculiar styled goatee, watching yourself and Natasha, with arms folded across his chest. “You could cut the sexual tension in here.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, turning from you, and walking back towards her original spot, all the while saying, “Shut up, Stark.”
“Well.” You clapped your hands together. “I best be going now. See you later, Petie.” Although you didn’t know if that was true.
“Wait, wait,” 'Stark’ said, watching as you walked by, “You’re new.”
“Mr Stark, this is Y/N,” Peter introduced, and you shook the man’s hand, “They helped me bring my presents up here.”
“Mine better be the big one,” he teased Peter, pointing to him jokingly. “Well, Y/N. Thank you for helping the kid,” he pulled a slip out of his pocket as he followed you to the elevator, handing it to you, “This is for you.” Then as the doors closed, “See you then.”
“What?” you asked yourself, and the now shut doors. Entirely confused by what had just happened.
—
The Avengers Anual Holiday Party
The Avengers Tower
Single Guest Ticket
Then, in smaller writing, at the very bottom.
Funded by Stark Industries.
You had met the man once.
For not even a minute.
And he had invited you to a party.
He had to be absolutely crazy.
You were going. Of course, you were going.
So you, apparently, were just as crazy.
But you had a “job” to do.
And this was your in. Your big in.
Fuck, you were exhausted already.
The party was that night.
Having a few hours nap wouldn’t be too bad, right?
Wrong.