Archive of Our Own

*Christmas 2003*

Clint lets out a breath as he steps through the front door of the farmhouse, tugging the scarf away from his neck and shrugging out of his heavy coat. He hangs both items on the coat rack just inside the door and then eases his feet out of his boots, pushing them flush against the wall. The house is mostly quiet around him as he shuffles through the front hallway and then up the stairs.

He follows the sound of familiar voices, a smile pulling at his lips as he gets closer to them, walking down the hall toward the bedroom with its door slightly ajar. He stops right outside of it, leaning against the wall and listening to the hushed conversation happening on the other side. He can’t understand much of it, is still learning the red-headed duo’s native tongue, but it makes him happy to hear it, nonetheless.

Reaching out a fist, he wraps his knuckles against the wood, craning his neck just a bit more. “Permission to enter?”

“Permission granted.”

Pushing off the wall, Clint nudges the door open the rest of the way, his smile growing when he sees Natasha sitting in the rocking chair at the far end of the room, Anya curled up in her lap still dressed in her pajamas but looking more and more awake with each second that passes. 

“You girls enjoying your morning so far?” he asks, stepping inside and leaning back against the wall right next to him. 

Natasha smiles softly. “It has been relaxing.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Perimeter’s good, by the way. Starting to get pretty nippy out there too, probably wanna bundle Anya up the next time she’s outside.”

Natasha’s brows furrow slightly. “Nippy?”

He shrugs. “‘Nother way of saying it’s getting cold. You hungry?”

She nods. “I am getting there.”

“Great. I’ll go start whipping us up something to eat, then. Come down whenever you’re ready.” He tosses her a smile, makes a goofy face at Anya when the young girl looks over at him, and then turns and makes his way back out of the room toward the stairs. 

As he descends, he can’t keep the smile off of his face. It’s been less than a year since he made the best decision of his life to not kill his intended mark, and things have been pretty great. It hasn’t been all smooth sailing, of course, given that Natasha is still pretty green to S.H.I.E.L.D. and she and Anya are both adjusting to this new life, but it’s still been good. 

Being at the farmhouse is definitely the longest he’s stayed in one place, aside from long-term ops, that wasn’t a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, and he’s been enjoying himself.

He’s getting to know more about Natasha, and vice versa, on the nights when they’re both plagued by demons from their past and can’t sleep. She’s slowly starting to trust him more now but is naturally still wary of everyone else. Which is part of why she rarely leaves the house unless she has to go to HQ for more deprogramming and whatever else her defection includes. She doesn’t always tell him, which he’s perfectly fine with not knowing all the details.

He’s just glad that Natasha and Anya seem to be doing so well. Especially now that Anya is getting close to a healthier weight and is starting to come out of her shell more. It’s certainly a sight to behold, watching little Anya explore the world around her. 

Stepping into the kitchen, Clint quickly gathers together what he’ll need to make a batch of pancakes and starts on his small mission of making breakfast. He switches on the radio nearby, quickly finds a station that’s playing Christmas music, and lets the melody fill the space as he cooks.

He loses himself in the music, some of his few decent childhood memories surfacing as he listens to the songs, and he can almost hear his mom singing along with the artist. Back before everything went all upside down and sideways. 

“What is this?”

Spinning around, Clint smiles when he sees Natasha entering the room with Anya sitting on her hip. “What’s what?”

Natasha simply points at the radio.

His smile grows a little wider. “Christmas music.”

Her brows furrow tightly. “Why?”

“Uh, because it’s almost Christmas.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and walks over to the table, sitting down in one of the chairs and settling Anya in her lap.

“Oh, come on. You don’t like Christmas?”

The corner of her lips twitch. “I never said that.”

He raises a brow. “So you do like Christmas?”

She carefully pries her hair out of Anya’s grip. “I never said that either.”

Clint sighs exasperatedly. “You’ve gotta give me something here, Natasha. Have you ever even celebrated Christmas?”

Her lips purse and one arm tightens just the slightest around Anya’s waist. “The Red Room was not exactly known for being warm and family-friendly.” She opens and closes her mouth a few times, looking like she’s going to say something else, but then stops and takes a deep breath. “So to answer your question, no, I have never actually celebrated Christmas.”

Clint pulls his lips in tight and nods. “Right. Sorry. Shoulda known.”

“What about you?” she asks him. “Have you celebrated?”

He shrugs. “When I was a kid, before the circus and before S.H.I.E.L.D. Nowadays, sometimes Laura and I will grab a couple of beers and pray that the following year won’t suck.” A small smile pulls at Clint’s lips. “Sometimes we wear ugly Christmas sweaters. But not much more than that.” Clint’s eyes go wide a split second later. “I just had the best idea.”

Natasha quirks a brow. “Is it really, though?”

He nods. “Absolutely. Without a doubt.” He leans against the counter with his forearms. “Wanna hear it?”

She sighs. “Do I have a choice?”

“Nope.” He shifts against the counter and grins. “It’s Anya’s first real Christmas.”

Natasha nods slowly. “Yes, it is.”

“We should celebrate. For her. Show her what a true American Christmas looks like.”

“But she is Russian.”

“Living in America now. Try and keep up here, Tasha. So I’m thinking we pull out all the stops, right? Biggest tree we can find in the yard and set it up in the living room, lights all over the outside of the house, milk and cookies for Santa, and way more presents than she probably needs. Just…absolutely insane and she’s gonna—why are you looking at me like that?” His brows furrow as he looks at the redhead. 

Natasha’s brows are furrowed as well. “What did you call me?”

“Huh? What are you…oh.” His words from a moment ago register in his head. “I called you, Tasha. Guess it just slipped out. Do you…do you mind? Because I won’t call you that if you don’t like it. Your choice.”

She’s quiet, her head tilted to the side. “I am not sure how I feel about it. I do not think I hate it when you say it.”

“Good to know. Just let me know if you change your mind, okay?”

She nods. “I will. Now, what were you saying? I hope you were not suggesting you are going to be the one cutting down a tree.”

Clint shifts slightly on his feet. “Excuse you, but I am very capable of chopping down a damn tree. Which I will prove to you later after we’ve eaten.” He takes a deep breath. “So, are you cool with all of this?” he asks. “About giving Anya the best Christmas we can?”

She nods slowly. “I think so. But you are in charge, since I would not even know where to start.”

Clint beams. “Not a problem. Leave it to me, I’m gonna make sure it’s the best first Christmas ever.” He takes a deep breath. “But first things first, pancakes.”

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Clint winces as Natasha dabs at the cuts on his face with antiseptic cream. He can hear Anya playing off to the side in the living room, the sound of her babbles warming his heart. He jolts when Natasha touches a particularly sensitive cut. 

“Geez, Tasha.”

“Sorry,” she says, though she doesn’t look it at all as she continues to dab at his cuts. “You know, that was not very smart, what you did outside.”

Clint sighs. “Yeah, I’m very well aware of that. I’ve got the injuries to prove it,” he remarks, gesturing to his face and arms. “But he started it, okay?”

Natasha leans back and raises a brow. “It was a squirrel, Clint.”

“An evil squirrel, obviously, with the way he just jumped out and attacked me like that.”

Natasha just shakes her head as she wordlessly cleans up the first aid kit that had been spread out on one corner of the table. She shuffles around him, gathering up the slightly bloody gauze to throw away in the kitchen trash can. 

Clint’s brows furrow slightly as he shifts in his seat. “Hey, you’re not uh, you’re not mad at me, are you?”

Natasha puts the first aid kit back in the drawer and then turns to look at him, leaning back against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest. “I am annoyed.”

“Because I tried to fight a squirrel?”

“No. Well, yes, that too. But I am annoyed because I think I am getting a glimpse into what it is going to be like working with you in the field.”

Clint chuckles. “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad. And we’ve worked together loads already and I haven’t gotten injured.”

“But none of those times were on actual missions with actual weapons and enemies.”

“True. They have made jokes in med bay about making one of the beds permanently mine, though. Which is completely ridiculous, by the way, because what if all the rest of the beds are full and someone else comes in needing that bed, hm? They just gonna deny that person a place to recover because it has my name on it?”

“Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

He nods. “Right.” He takes a deep breath and shifts in his chair. “So, when do you have to leave?”

“Early in the morning. I should be back in the evening.”

“Okay. I’ll probably take Anya into town, then, see if we can find some decorations for the tree.” He glances around. “And the rest of the house.”

“Do not go overboard.” She holds a hand up when he opens his mouth to speak. “I know you said you want to make it incredible for Anya, but she is not going to remember it. So do not go overboard.”

Clint nods. “Okay. Promise I won’t go overboard.”

“Thank you. I am going to go take a shower. Please do not let her try to climb the tree, she has already tried to do it twice.”

Clint chuckles. “You have my word.” He leans back in his chair and watches as Natasha disappears around the corner, her feet echoing against the steps as she goes.

He lets out a breath as his eyes drift over to the living room, taking in the large tree sitting in the corner, already mapping out in his head what kind of ornaments might be best for their first Christmas tree. There are all sorts of options, and he’s not entirely sure what he wants to get, but he’s sure he’ll be able to figure it out.

The muffled sound of branches pulls him out of his head and he shifts his focus to see Anya pulling at the lower branches of the tree, her tiny legs lifting and lowering a few times as her hands stretch to try and reach higher branches. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not on my watch, little lady,” he says, standing from the chair and making his way into the living room. He scoops Anya up, taking note of the scowl she gives him, and holds her on his hip. “I know tree climbing sounds fun, but I really want to keep all of my limbs intact, and your mother would definitely detach one if I let you climb that and you got hurt. So no tree climbing today. Maybe when you’re older we can try climbing one that’s still in the ground.”

Anya just stares at him and then points toward the tree. “Up.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. No tree climbing. Let’s go find something else to do while your mom showers, yeah? Then maybe we’ll figure something out for dinner.”

“Mac cheese!” Anya shouts with a grin.

Clint raises a brow. “You want mac and cheese?”

Anya nods her head. “Yeah!”

“I don’t think that should be a problem, but your mom might have a different idea. So we’ll figure that one out a little later. Now come on, let’s go find something to keep us both entertained.” He hikes Anya up a little higher on his hip and then makes his way into a different part of the house, hoping to distract Anya from her desire to climb the Christmas tree.

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Making his way down the sidewalk of the small town, Clint tugs Anya’s knit cap a little further down over her ears. Small tufts of bright red waves peek out from under the edges of the cap, bringing a smile to Clint’s lips. He tightens the straps of the baby carrier just enough to pull her a little closer to his body and then looks up and around him for the best shop to find some Christmas tree ornaments.

“Um, excuse me,” he calls out to an elderly woman walking toward him and then smiles politely. “Hi. Could you recommend the best shop for Christmas ornaments?”

The woman smiles back. “Of course. If you keep going down this way,” she says, turning and pointing ahead of them, “there’s going to be a small shop on your right-hand side, a big old Christmas display in the window, you can’t miss it. That’s where you’ll find all the best ornaments.”

Clint lets out a breath. “Perfect, thank you.”

“Of course. Are you new to town?” she asks him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“We moved here a few months back, been mostly keeping to ourselves while we settle in and adjust. I’m Clint, by the way.” He holds out a hand to her.

The woman gives his hand a quick shake. “Vivian Henderson. It’s nice to finally meet you. And who’s this little one?”

Clint glances down at Anya who’s staring back at the woman. “This is Anya.”

“She’s adorable,” Vivian states, resting a gentle hand on top of Anya’s head. “Hello, sweetheart. I hope you and your daddy have a wonderful Christmas.”

Clint’s eyes go wide, his heart clenching involuntarily which he chooses to ignore. “Oh, she’s uh, she’s not mine, actually. Her mom and I are just friends, I helped them get out of a bad situation and they needed a place to settle. I offered to come with, help them both out. She’s at a work meeting right now so I’m on Anya duty.” He smiles as he gently bounces Anya and then looks back up at Vivian. “Which means we’re on a quest for Christmas ornaments.”

“Well, good on you for helping out your friend, I’m sure she really appreciates it. And if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to come find me. If you follow the main road back out, I’m in the last house before the turn-off for the dirt road, you can’t miss it.”

Clint’s brows furrow slightly. “The one with the weathervane on top?”

“You know it?”

“We passed by it on the way to our place. We’re on the farm at the end of that dirt road.”

Vivian beams. “Oh, how wonderful. I promise not to just come barging in unannounced, but I expect to be invited over for tea at some point.”

Clint blinks. “Um, okay? I think…I think that should be okay.” He glances down when Anya starts to fuss. “I know, sweetheart.” He looks up at Vivian again. “We should go find those ornaments so I can get this one out of the cold.”

“Oh, of course. Don’t let me keep you. Oh! Before I forget, we have a Christmas festival all day on Christmas Eve, and pretty much everyone comes by to experience it all. You should bring Anya, there are lots of things for the little ones to enjoy. And bring her mother along too, I’d love to meet her.”

“That sounds wonderful, but I don’t know if we’ll make it. I think we were planning on a pretty quiet Christmas. But maybe next year.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” She smiles softly at the baby. “Have a very Merry Christmas, Anya.” She throws him one last smile before turning and continuing down the path she’d been on before he stopped her. 

Letting out a breath, Clint looks down at the little girl cuddled up against him. “Now, should we go find some decorations?”

“Go! Go!” Anya exclaims, a tiny smile on her face.

Clint smiles, dipping his head to press a kiss to her forehead as he starts walking. “Alright, then. And maybe we can find a special present for mama while we’re out too. It’s your first real Christmas, the two of you, we gotta find something extra special for her from you.”

“You,” Anya says, pointing at him.

Clint chuckles. “Nah. I’m not sure that’s a smart idea for me right now. At least not yet. Maybe in a couple of years. Hopefully by that point, whatever feelings I think I might have for your mom will have disappeared.”

Anya shakes her head. “No.”

Clint nods. “Yes. If your mom and I are gonna work together, then developing feelings for her is a surefire way for me to make an idiotic decision in the field. So there will be no more developing of feelings. I’m putting a stop to it.”

Anya just stares at him silently, her tiny brows furrowed. 

Clint narrows his eyes slightly as he ducks into the shop Vivian told him about. “Quit judging me. I can’t help how I feel.” He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Okay, enough of that.” He smiles brightly. “Let’s go find some ornaments.”

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“That’s it, Anya,” Clint says with a laugh, watching the little girl as she dances around the living room to the Christmas music that’s playing through the radio. Though, it mostly consists of jumping in circles and waving her arms in the air. But it’s still pretty darn cute; he may have even snapped a few pictures of it.

He grabs a couple more ornaments out of the box and hangs them on the branches, making sure they’re secure enough that they won’t randomly fall off. He’d also made sure to grab a couple of boxes of string lights while getting the ornaments, figuring they can put the colorful ones on the tree for Anya’s benefit and then he’ll attach the white ones to the front of the house later.

“You’ve got great rhythm, kiddo,” he tells the toddler as he reaches into the nearest box for another ornament. “Maybe we should see about getting you into some kind of dance or gymnastics class or something, help you hone this talent. Only if you want to, though. And if your mom will be okay with you being around people she doesn’t know for a significant length of time.” His brows furrow. “Yeah, that might take a lot of convincing.”

“What might take a lot of convincing?”

“мама!”

Clint turns, ornament in hand, and smiles at Natasha as she picks up Anya. “Hey. I didn’t hear you come in. How was your meeting?” he asks, knowing she much prefers referring to her sessions as meetings than what they really are. 

Natasha shrugs. “Same as usual. Did everything go okay here?” she asks, shifting Anya to her hip and stepping further into the room. 

Clint follows her line of sight to the tree. “Well, as I’m sure you can see, Anya and I got some lights and ornaments for the tree. Speaking of, you’re back just in time.”

She raises a brow. “I am?”

He nods. “Yep. Because this ornament”—he holds up the small orb in his hand—“is actually very special. It’s for Anya.”

Natasha’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s her first official Christmas, so I thought it might be fun to have an ornament to commemorate that. Thankfully the shop we found was able to do custom ornaments right on the spot, so I had them whip this up for her. Here.”

Natasha takes the ornament from him and inspects it. “Anya’s First Real Christmas,” she reads. She’s silent for a moment before the corners of her mouth tick up. “Cute.”

Clint lets out a small breath of relief. “Great, I’m glad you think so. Because I got you one too.”

Natasha’s eyes go wide. “You did what?”

Clint snickers. “I’m kidding. Didn’t think you’d be into that. Just got the one for Anya. And now that you’re back, I thought maybe the two of you could put it on the tree together. What do you think, Anya?” he asks the little girl. “Want your mama to help you put your ornament on the tree?”

Anya smiles and nods, one hand already reaching out for the orb. 

Clint smiles. “I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes’. Go ahead and pick a spot, doesn’t matter where.” He stands back, leaning against the closest surface, and watches as Natasha carries Anya over to the tree, the ornament cradled carefully in her free hand. He can see her lips moving but can’t hear as she speaks softly to her daughter—he suspects in Russian—while pointing to various parts of the Christmas tree.

He manages to snap a picture of the sweet scene, taken at just the right angle and the right time so that the fading light from outside is hitting the both of them in the best way as they hang the ornament on the tree. That’s definitely another keeper and he might have just decided to break his own rule about not getting anything for Natasha. Surely she wouldn’t hate a photo of her and her daughter, given that she probably doesn’t have any.

“I think that’s the perfect spot,” he says, setting his camera aside and approaching the pair. “I think that’s also the last ornament we needed to hang. Which means there is one last thing we need to put on the tree.” He grins as he pulls a beautifully crafted star out of one of the boxes. “Miss Anya,” he says with a slight bow, “would you like to help me put the star on? I need my assistant back.”

Anya just smiles at him but keeps hanging onto Natasha.

Clint sighs playfully. “Okay. I see how it is. I’m basically nonexistent when your mom’s around. Can’t say I blame you.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and then whispers something to Anya.

A second later, Anya is leaping into his arms with a wide smile. He catches her skillfully and then settles her on his hip. “Glad to see you’ve come to your senses. Now come on.” He carries her with him as he goes for the star he’d found at the shop, something bright and colorful but also incredibly sturdy in case a small child were to handle it.

He hands the star to Anya, concerned only for a moment that she isn’t going to entirely understand what she needs to do. “You ready to put the star on?” he asks, waiting for some indication from the toddler. When he gets a smile, he carefully hoists her up onto his shoulders, and then steps closer to the tree, practically standing in its branches. “Can you reach? Do you need some help? Was this actually a good idea? Because I realize now that you might not actually comprehend what you need to do.”

“She did it,” Natasha calls from somewhere behind him.

Clint steps back and looks up, smiling when he sees the star sitting a bit lopsided on the topmost branch of the tree. “Excellent. Great job, Anya,” he says to the toddler, smiling brightly up at her. “Now we just gotta connect it to the rest of the lights.” He steps around the tree, finds the two loose cord ends and sticks them together, and then moves across the floor toward Natasha. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“Am I plugging something in or flipping a switch?”

“Plugging something in. Outlet’s right behind the tree.” 

Natasha steps to the outlet and seconds later, the tree is alight with colors. 

A soft gasp comes from above him. “Wow.”

“It is very ‘wow’ indeed,” Clint tells the girl, keeping a secure hold of her little legs dangling on either side of his head. “We did a good job, huh? Even though it was mostly me.”

Natasha wanders back over to them, a small smile on her face. “I have to admit that it looks very good.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiles proudly at the decoration. “Our first Christmas tree for our first real Christmas. Not too shabby at all.”

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Clint counts his hearing loss as a blessing in very few ways. One of which is that he isn’t subjected to the same middle-of-the-night screeching that Natasha usually deals with. And, of course, this is one of those rare moments where he does wake up to Anya’s screeching echoing down the hall because he’d stayed up later than intended the night before and forgot to take his hearing aids out before falling asleep. It’s never fun waking up with them still in and he always has to take them out for a bit to let his head adjust before putting them back in.

A faint, muffled noise pulls his attention toward the door and he makes a grunted sound of permission, unable to find his voice quite yet. The door opens a second later, Natasha and Anya appearing in the open space.

He points to his ears immediately, a silent indication to Natasha that he can’t quite hear her properly.

She simply nods and gestures over her shoulder with her thumb, letting him know she’ll be downstairs.

He nods in acknowledgment, lifting his hands to sign slowly, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She offers him a small smile and then turns to leave, pulling the door closed behind her.

Clint lets out a breath and runs a hand through his hair, giving himself a moment to come further into consciousness. Christmas morning; a day he hasn’t ever really looked forward to since he was a kid. Sure, sometimes he and Laura will celebrate in their own way, but they never really do Christmas. This will be a first in a very long time for him.

Eventually climbing out of bed, Clint shuffles around his bedroom and the bathroom next door, getting himself freshened up and ready for the day ahead. Other than letting Anya open up her presents and maybe taking her out into the snow, he really doesn’t have much else planned. He doesn’t want to completely overwhelm Natasha, but he still wants to make it special for Anya, even if she won’t remember any of it.

Once he’s ready to go, still wearing his pajama bottoms and a gray t-shirt, Clint makes his way downstairs and slips his aids back in, letting his head readjust, and then follows the sound of voices to the living room where Natasha and Anya are already waiting for him. He can’t help his smile when he sees them lounging together in the recliner, Anya curled up on Natasha’s lap but her eyes very clearly fixed on all the presents under the tree.

It’s not a huge pile, but a decent-sized one to make the toddler feel special and have plenty to open. Plus there’s a stocking hanging above the fireplace filled with some random toys and snacks that she might enjoy. So all in all, it’s a pretty good haul.

“Merry Christmas,” he says when he steps fully into the room, drawing their attention to him.

“Merry Christmas,” Natasha responds with a small smile. “I found some premade cinnamon rolls in the freezer and put them in the oven. They should be done soon.”

Clint nods. “Cool. Do you wanna wait until they’re done? Or should we start letting Anya go to town on her presents?”

“She could start with her stocking,” Natasha suggests. “That will probably take up the time we have to wait.”

“Sounds good.” He steps over to the fireplace and unhooks the store-bought stocking, turning and smiling at Anya now standing right next to him. “Hey, sweetheart. Wanna see what Santa brought you?” He squats in front of her, chuckling when she does the same movement, and then sets the stocking down on the floor in front of her. He ruffles her hair, earning him a small glare from the little girl, and then backs up to settle himself on the couch.

It doesn’t take long for Anya to begin digging into the contents of her stocking. Well, more like grabbing the stocking from the bottom and tipping the entire thing upside down, spilling everything inside it onto the hardwood floor, some items scattering further away than others.

He shares an amused look with Natasha, a quiet chuckle escaping past his lips. A moment later, his attention is pulled back to Anya as she toddles over to him, clutching several small toys in her hands with a grin on her face. “Hey, sweetheart, what have you got there?”

“Toys!”

He smiles. “Yeah, looks like Santa brought you some fun toys to use when you take a bath. That’s kinda cool, huh?”

Anya just smiles at him and then toddles over to Natasha to show her the toys as well.

Seconds later, a familiar beeping rings out from the kitchen, signaling that the cinnamon rolls are done baking. Clint stands immediately to retrieve them, making sure to turn the oven off properly and gather a couple of plates and some napkins. He dishes up two cinnamon rolls onto two plates, then carries them back into the living room, handing one to Natasha as he takes up his place back on the couch.

They spend the next hour or so eating their cinnamon rolls while Anya tears into her presents. They just let her go at her own pace, neither of them having anywhere they need to be, so there’s no need to rush the toddler. Plus, the little girl takes a break every so often to snag a bite of whoever’s cinnamon roll is closest to her at the time. Usually, it’s his.

After all of Anya’s presents have been opened, Clint hesitates for only a moment. But then he stands again and moves toward the tree, plucking a flat rectangular box from the branches and walking over to Natasha.

He rubs at the back of his neck as he holds it out to her. “Here, uh, this is for you. Merry Christmas.”

Her brows furrow slightly but she takes the box anyways. “I did not get you anything.”

He shakes his head. “That’s okay. I honestly wasn’t planning on getting you anything either, but uh, but then we were putting the ornaments up and, well, you’ll see.” He gestures for her to open the present and then sits down on the nearest surface to wait.

He watches as she carefully tears the paper away, tossing it to the floor where Anya excitedly picks it up to add to her growing pile—he’s not sure whether to be annoyed or amused that she’s enjoying the wrapping paper more than her actual presents. The box’s lid is discarded next, the tissue paper lying on top peeled back to reveal the gift lying inside.

Natasha gasps lightly, the barest hint of a wet sheen coming to the surface of her eyes. Her hands just barely shake as she lifts the photo frame out of the box and stares at it. Then she looks up at him. “You took this.” It’s not a question, clearly, given they were the only two in the house at the time.

He nods. “Yeah. Everything about that moment was just so perfect, and I figured you probably don’t have any photos of you and Anya together, so I thought this might be nice for you to have. You can totally tell me if it was crossing a line or something, and I won’t do anything like it again.”

She shakes her head, giving him a soft smile. “No, it is perfect, Clint. Thank you. This…this actually means a lot.”

He smiles back. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. You’re such a great mom to Anya, and she adores you, I thought it’d be nice to have some photographic evidence of it.”

“And I know exactly where I am going to put it.” She sets the photo carefully back in the box and sets it aside. “I feel a little bad for not getting you a gift.”

“I told you it’s okay. I don’t need you to get me anything.”

Natasha nods. “Okay. But maybe I can tell you something instead.”

He shrugs. “If you want.”

Natasha’s quiet for a moment then takes a deep breath. “I lied.”

Clint’s brows furrow. “Huh?”

“Before, when you asked if I have celebrated Christmas before, I lied.”

“Okay.”

Natasha shifts in her chair. “I was a kid, and the Red Room sent me and another little girl, Yelena, to Ohio. She was not part of the Red Room yet, was only three at the time, but she thought it was all real. I was older, old enough to know why we were really there, old enough to know what would happen when it was all over.”

“Hey, Natasha, you don’t have to…”

“I want to.”

He nods. “Okay.”

She takes another deep breath. “When we were first sent to Ohio, we had this…photoshoot, creating fake moments so we would have photos to display for anyone who might be coming over. Yelena was so young, I know she thought it was all real. But I knew the truth. And when we were in Ohio, during Christmas, I could never get into it or any other holiday, always knowing it was not going to last. Everyone around us made such a big deal of Christmas, but I never truly enjoyed it.”

Clint frowns slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that. But, you know, it’s real now.” He leans forward slightly, gently grabbing her hand and holding it firmly. “This right here, this Christmas, it’s real. You can enjoy yourself and enjoy this holiday with your daughter. You don’t have to be worried about it disappearing.”

“I know.”

He leans back but doesn’t release her hand, something in his stomach twisting when she doesn’t move to let go either. “Do you ever think about finding Yelena again? To see if she’s okay?”

Natasha shrugs. “Sometimes. She is still young, though, and I think I am worried that she will hate me for leaving her behind. That I did not try to get her out as well when you saved me.”

“You were focused on your daughter. And from everything you’ve told me about the Red Room, I don’t think they would have made it easy for you two to keep tabs on each other.”

“I always tried, though.”

“That’s good.” He gives her hand a small squeeze. “And hey, whenever you feel like you want to look for Yelena, you just let me know and I’ll help you out.”

“Thank you. I do not think I am ready for that yet, but I will keep your offer in mind.”

He smiles. “Good.” He takes a deep breath and reluctantly lets go of her hand as he stands. “I’m gonna put the rest of those cinnamon rolls away before I forget about it. You want another one?”

She shakes her head. “No, thank you.”

“Okay.” He turns and makes his way into the kitchen, the sound of Anya’s laughter drifting toward him making him smile. Natasha’s laughter follows quickly after and he has to remind himself that he can’t do anything about what he might be feeling toward her. Because she definitely doesn’t see him that way. And he has to be okay with that.

.

.

.

Several hours later, after Anya has woken up from her nap with a new burst of energy and roped him and Natasha into playing with her with her new toys, there’s a hard, quick knock at the front door. It immediately pulls Clint’s attention away from the stack of toys surrounding him, and he can’t help but smile.

Natasha looks at him with furrowed brows, her entire body stiff. “What is that?”

“Relax,” he says, holding his hands up as he stands. “I promise it’s nothing bad. You stay here, I’ll be right back.” He turns and hurries to the front door, pulling it open and smiling at the three figures standing on the other side. “Laura, Maria, Phil, glad you could make it. Come on in.” He steps aside and allows the three to move into the house, pushing the door closed after them. “She has no idea you were coming and I’m just now realizing this could majorly backfire on all of us.” He sighs. “Well, no going back now, come on.”

He moves back to the living room, listening to the three pairs of footsteps behind him, mentally preparing himself for whatever might happen.

“You’re an idiot, Clint, you know that?”

“Yes, Laur, I’m well aware of that, thank you.” He stops in the doorway, smiling at Natasha on the floor with Anya. “Hey, Tasha, I brought you something.”

She gives him a look. “The picture was way more than enough.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not another present. Well, not really.” He steps to the side and watches her face as she sees Laura, Marie, and Phil step into the room. “Merry Christmas.”

Natasha's eyes go wide. “What are you three doing here?”

“Barton invited us,” Coulson tells her. “And we brought gifts for Anya, I hope that's okay.”

“She’ll probably be more interested in the paper for a while,” Clint tells his handler with a smile, “but I’m sure she’ll still have fun opening some more presents. Hey, Anya, look who’s here.”

Anya tears her eyes away from her toys and then squeals. She pushes herself to her feet and then toddles over to the doorway, immediately attaching herself to Laura’s legs. She hugs the woman’s legs and beams up at her. “Lolo Lolo Lolo!”

Laura chuckles. “Well, that’s certainly a new one.” She leans down to scoop Anya up and settle the girl on her hip. “I’m Lolo now, huh? Guess I can learn to live with it.” 

Clint remains in the doorway to the living room as he watches Laura carry Anya over to her pile of toys, Maria and Phil following closely with a few gift bags and wrapped boxes of their own for Anya to open. He can’t keep the smile off of his face, a laugh bubbling up when he sees Anya practically launching herself at the new presents. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns his head just enough to see Natasha coming to stand next to him, watching the scene with a smile as well.

“Ever think you’d get here?” he asks quietly. 

Natasha shakes her head. “Never. Even though I was the best at the Red Room, I always thought I would die or take over training the other girls. I never thought something like this was an option.”

“But you’re glad you’re here?”

Natasha looks at him and smiles. “Very. Thank you, Clint. Not just for today, but for everything.”

He smiles back. “You’re welcome.”

“No, really, I mean it. You…I do not think I have said it before, or really know how to say it, but…”

He rests a gentle hand on her arm. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. Now go have some fun with your kid, make sure whatever toys she got aren’t going to drive us crazy from loud noises.”

Natasha snorts. “You will just cheat by taking your hearing aids out.”

He shakes his head. “Not cheating. Taking advantage.”

She waves him off. “takaya zhe raznitsa.” Brief hesitation flashes across her face and then, quicker than Clint can register, she’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and then moving back into the living room to join the others. 

Clint stands frozen in his spot, his jaw slightly dropped at the realization of what just happened. He never expected that, especially not now. He’d hoped, sure, but never put too much thought into it. 

He tells himself not to dwell on it, though, it could have just been a one-off situation and if he tries to bring it up again it could cause problems. So he’ll push the memory to the back of his mind for safekeeping, something to pull out when needs a little pick-me-up.

“Clint, get your ass over here and help us decide which cheesy Christmas movie to watch first.”

He laughs quietly at Maria’s words, but listens anyway.

It is Christmas, after all. Probably—no, definitely—the best Christmas he’s had in a very long time. And he really hopes they keep getting better.

*Christmas 2009*

Natasha smiles to herself as she watches her daughters run around in the snow, their bodies protected from the cold winter weather with heavy coats, gloves, and hats. It finally snowed overnight and the girls were naturally ecstatic when they woke up and realized. It had taken all of her and Clint’s combined efforts to get the girls to focus on eating breakfast before going outside to play, which was certainly not easy with an almost eight-year-old and a newly turned three-year-old. 

So now she stands on the front porch with a mug of coffee cradled in her hands making sure her daughters don’t injure themselves too badly while playing or get too cold.

Familiar arms wrap around her from behind and she smiles, leaning back and letting her eyes close. “Did you get all the ornaments out?”

”Yep. They’re all ready for us whenever we want to start decorating.”

“You know the girls aren’t going to start until my sister gets here.”

“Speaking of that walking personification of insanity, any idea when she’s arriving?”

Natasha shakes her head. “Not a clue. She should be here sometime today, but other than that I have no idea.”

Clint sighs. “Figured as much. I’m gonna go check on the chickens.”

“If you try bringing any of them inside—”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do that. I’d much prefer not to sleep with one eye open through the holidays.”

She smiles to herself. “Good.” She leans forward to let him off the porch, opening her eyes again and following his form as he moves around the side of the house. She turns back in time to see a sleek black car making its way up the drive, the tires crunching slowly on the snow. “Derzhis' podal'she,” she calls out when she sees Kat starting to move toward the car. “Wait until it stops, please.” She smiles when she sees Anya grabbing her younger sister's hand as an extra measure to keep her from running forward.

As soon as the car stops, both girls dart to the driver’s side, bouncing excitedly with grins on their faces as they wait.

Natasha remains in her spot sipping her coffee, watching as the car door opens and Yelena steps out, immediately bombarded by the two small children. Their joint laughter makes Natasha’s heart swell, thinking about how far they’ve come in just a few short years. It’s amazing.

“Mama!” Anya shouts across the snowy yard as she clings tightly to Yelena’s back. “Auntie ‘Lena’s here!”

“I can see that. It’s about time you showed up,” she calls out to her sister. “I was starting to think you forgot.”

Yelena scoffs, picking Kat up and settling her on her hip. “That would never happen. My memory is fantastic.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “That why you conveniently don’t recall me telling you not to get Anya throwing stars for her last birthday?”

Yelena waves her off as she approaches. “Every little girl needs good set of throwing stars. Kat will get some too one day.”

“And just like with Anya’s set, I’ll keep them tucked away until she’s a little older and then I will be the one to teach her how to throw them if she wants to learn.”

Yelena rolls her eyes. “You are such a spoil sport as a mom. Do you know that? You used to be fun.”

Natasha just rolls her eyes and then steps forward to pull her sister into a hug. “I missed you too, Yelena.”

“Whatever.” Yelena gently shoves her away and hikes Kat up a little higher. “Where is that walking human disaster you call a husband?” she asks, glancing around. “You know, I still do not know what it is you see in him.”

“And that is something I’m more than okay with. Otherwise, I might have to fight you for him.”

Yelena’s nose scrunches up. “Gross. That will never happen, not in a million years.” She takes a deep breath. “I will take these two inside so we can start decorating.”

“Not without Papa,” Anya states firmly. “Auntie ‘Lena, we can’t decorate without Papa.”

Yelena sighs. “Fine. We will wait.”

Natasha laughs quietly to herself as Yelena disappears inside the house with Anya and Kat, the screen door swinging shut behind them. Sometimes she can’t fathom that her husband and sister act more like children with each other than her actual children do. It is certainly an interesting dynamic that those two have.

“Hey, I heard a car. Your sister finally show up?”

Natasha turns to see Clint making his way toward her, one of the chickens cradled in his arms. She sighs heavily. “Clint, what did I say?”

He stops short, glancing down at the chicken and then back at her. “She’s too cold out here.”

“Put the chicken back in the coop and then come inside. Or I’ll let Yelena help Kat put the star on the tree.”

Clint’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t.”

She raises a brow. “Try me.”

Clint sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Fine. I’ll be there in a minute.” He turns and makes his way back through the snow toward the chicken coop. 

Shaking her head, Natasha spins on her heel and makes her way back into the house, slipping out of her shoes and pushing them up against the wall with the others. She follows the familiar voices into the living room, finding Yelena, Anya, and Kat huddled around the boxes of Christmas decorations, the three of them talking over one another as they pull out all of the lights, stockings, and other decorations.

“Mama! Auntie ‘Lena said I can be on her shoulders again!” Anya shouts. “So I can reach the top branches. And Kat’s gonna be on Papa’s shoulders again for the star ‘cause she’s still a baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” Kat exclaims with a small frown.

“Where is that man, anyway?” Yelena asks. “If he is not here soon we will start without him.”

Natasha wanders closer, crouching next to Kat and rubbing a hand up and down the girl’s back to calm her down. “He’s still outside. Should be back in a minute.”

Yelena deadpans. “Did he try to bring a chicken inside?”

Natasha snorts. “Obviously.”

Yelena shakes her head. “That man and his chickens. Ridiculous.”

“You’re telling me. Most days I regret letting him get those damn chickens.”

“Hey, quit dissing my chickens.”

“Papa!” Anya shouts, darting across the room and jumping at Clint as he steps into the room.

Clint catches Anya easily and hoists her onto his hip. “Hey, sweetheart. You didn’t start without me, did you?”

Anya grins. “Nope.”

“Good. But first, we need some music.”

Yelena groans. “Your taste in music is terrible.”

“It’s Christmas music.”

“Your taste in other music is terrible,” she responds without missing a beat.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Enough, both of you. You do this every year, knock it off.”

Clint looks over at her and smiles apologetically. “Sorry, Tasha.”

Yelena snorts. “Suck up. I am sorry too, I guess. Now can we decorate?”

“Yes!” Anya shouts. “Come on, Papa!”

Natasha laughs quietly as Anya slides down onto the floor and then grabs Clint’s hand to drag him further into the living room. “Alright, you four get started, I’ll go put on the music.”

Soon enough, the house is being flooded with classic upbeat Christmas songs, mixing in with the chatter and laughter of a family having fun. They spend their day singing along and dancing through the living room while decorating the tree and the walls.

Clint gets tangled in the lights at one point which has Yelena howling with laughter and refusing to help. Kat accidentally breaks a few of the generic ornaments when she tries to put them on the lower branches. Anya gleefully bounces around to everyone the way only a young child full of energy can while singing along to the music. Yelena relentlessly teases Clint while helping the girls hang up all the decorations.

Natasha mostly just sits back and watches the scene as it plays out, a smile on her face the entire time, the usual music filling her ears. She manages to snap a few photos of the chaos to show Laura, Maria, and Coulson later, knowing the three will highly enjoy seeing the antics of her family. She even takes a few photos specifically of Anya hanging ornaments that the young girl insists on showing her “bestest friend in the world”, Peter, the next time they see each other.

“Mama! Podoydi syuda! You’ve gotta help too!”

Natasha smiles at her eldest daughter’s words, setting her phone aside as she stands from the couch. She scoops the girl into her arms and takes the ornament Anya is holding onto, the same one Clint got that very first Christmas, her heart swelling with the sweet memory. (Clint half jokingly got one for Yelena too when she joined them for the first time and Natasha’s fairly certain she saw her sister trying to hold back a wave of tears before making some snarky remark.)

Natasha presses a kiss to her daughter’s temple, lingering for just a moment before breathing deeply and turning toward the tree. “Okay, where do you want to put it?”

Anya beams as she points to a section of branches. “Von tam, mama.”

“Ideal’nyy.”

.

.

.

“Do you think we should remind them not to get separated?” Natasha asks her husband as they stroll hand in hand through the town’s annual Christmas festival, Yelena walking a few feet ahead of them with Anya on one side and Kat on the other, both girls clinging tightly to their aunt’s hands. 

Clint shakes his head. “They know. Or, at least, Yelena knows. Though, that doesn’t instill me with a lot of confidence since she sometimes gets just as distracted as the girls do.”

“Hey, at least it isn’t as bad as her first year spending Christmas with us.”

Clint shudders. “Ooh. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack that year. And to think it’s only been a couple of years. You’d never know with the way she is with them now.”

“Clint? Natasha?”

Natasha turns and smiles at the older woman approaching them, a mug of warm cider in her hands. “Vivian, hi. Merry Christmas.”

Vivian smiles brightly, pulling her into a quick hug. “Merry Christmas to you too, dear. Where are those sweet girls of yours?” she asks, glancing around the crowded area.

“With my sister. Not exactly sure where they ran off to, but I’m trying to convince myself they’ll be alright.”

“Oh, your sister’s in town for the holidays? That’s so nice to hear. One can never have too much family around during the holidays.”

Natasha smiles. “I couldn’t agree more. We’ve got a little more family coming in tomorrow to spend the evening with us, and the girls are very excited.”

“How nice. Oh, be sure to stop by Jean’s booth at some point to try her cider.”

Natasha’s brows furrow. “I mean, we were already planning to. Is there something we should know?”

Vivian waves her off. “Nothing serious. Apparently, she decided to try a new recipe this year. I’ll be honest, it’s not as good as her usual stuff, but it's okay.”

“Huh. I wonder why she did that. Thanks for the heads up, though. I’m sure we can—”

“Mama! Papa!”

Natasha turns to see Anya rushing toward them across the pavement, a wide grin on her face, Yelena following closely behind with Kat clinging to her back. “Hi, sweetheart.” She rests a hand on top of Anya’s hat-covered head when the girl stops in front of her. “What are you doing over here? I thought you and your sister were going to walk around with your aunt.”

“She saw Santa,” Yelena pipes in. “She wants to take pictures but wants one of you to be there with her.”

“Nyet,” Anya retorts with a smile. “Auntie ‘Lena’s scared of Santa.”

Yelena scoffs. “I am not scared. He is creepy. There is a difference.”

Natasha sighs. “Yelena…”

“Kakiye? He sneaks into your house at night when you are sleeping and you do not know when he does so. It is creepy. You cannot change my mind on this.”

Natasha snickers. “Some things never change.” She takes a deep breath and looks at her husband. “Do you want to take the girls to go get their pictures with Santa?”

Clint shrugs. “Sure.” He takes Kat off Yelena’s back and tosses her up onto his shoulders. “If you’re gonna stop by Jean’s booth, get me a glass.”

“No promises.” She leans forward to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, then looks down at her daughter. “Alright, go with Papa. Auntie ‘Lena and I are gonna hang out with Vivian for a bit.”

“Okay. Hi, Vivian,” Anya greets the older woman brightly. “Tomorrow’s Christmas.”

Vivian laughs quietly. “I know, dear. Are you excited?”

Anya nods. “So excited. We finally decorated our tree the other day and Papa put the lights on the outside of the house and Auntie Lena was laughing ‘cause he almost fell over. Then me and Kat and Auntie ‘Lena built a snowman but we got really cold so Mama made us hot cocoa and we watched movies and then we—”

Natasha finally steps forward, gently cutting her daughter off with a hand on her head and a smile. “I’m sure Vivian would love to hear more about how much fun you’ve been having, but I think Santa is waiting for you.”

Anya gasps, her eyes going wide. “spasibo, mama.” She hugs Natasha and then darts over to her dad and sister, grabbing Clint’s hand and doing her best to tug him along with her. 

“I am so sorry about that,” Natasha says, turning back to her neighbor. “I honestly have no idea where she gets that from.”

Vivian smiles, waving her off. “Oh, don’t worry about it. She’s excited about the holiday, I can’t say I blame her.” She takes a deep breath and then loops her arm through Natasha’s. “Now, let’s go find that cider. Yelena, would you like to join us?”

Yelena shrugs. “I suppose. I do not know anyone here except for you two.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Natasha retorts, grabbing her younger sister’s hand and holding it firmly as the three of them start to walk. “You could easily venture out into the town whenever you stay with us, but you choose not to.”

“That is because when I visit it is to spend time with you and your spawn. It would be better without Clint being there too but apparently you love him and will not make him leave.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Here we go.”

“All I am saying is that he is a major dork.”

“And that’s part of why I love him. I don’t know why you can’t just admit that you care about him.”

Yelena’s face scrunches up. “Ne zastavlyay menta bolet’. I do not care about him, I care about you. And Anya and Kat. That is it. No one else.”

Natasha just smiles to herself, tilting her head to rest it against Yelena’s as they move through the bustling crowds of people. She knows what Yelena will say whenever she brings the topic up, but deep down she knows that Yelena just thinks it’s more fun to not admit it. And she knows Clint gets a kick out of it too. So she lets it slide. One day she’ll get the truth out of them, though.

.

.

.

Natasha wakes to the enticing aroma of cinnamon rolls. She immediately notes the absence of either of her daughters barging in to wake her and Clint up the way they do most mornings. It doesn’t take her long to remember that it's Christmas morning, and Yelena’s there, which means her sister is most likely keeping the girls occupied with games or stories of her adventures around the world.

Rolling onto her side, Natasha reaches out to gently hit Clint in the chest with the back of her hand, rousing him from sleep. It takes a moment for him to wake up enough to communicate with her, moving his hands to ask her what’s going on.

“It’s Christmas,” she signs back. “We should get downstairs so the girls can open their presents. And I want a cinnamon roll.”

“Okay. Give me five minutes.” He stands from the bed and makes his way into the bathroom attached to their room, the door closing behind him.

Natasha sits up and stretches, reaching for her phone on the nightstand to check her messages. Fury knows not to contact her and Clint on holidays unless it’s an absolute emergency, but it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve had to miss something. Just, thankfully, they haven’t had to miss a Christmas yet. Or a birthday for either of the girls. They’ve missed a couple of Easter egg hunts, a few Fourth of July barbecues, and some other minor holidays including their own birthdays. But no more than that. Thankfully.

Finding no impending world crisis that requires her and her husband’s expertise, Natasha throws the covers off her body and stretches again as she stands. She moves into the bathroom once Clint emerges, going through her usual morning routine while her stomach rumbles at the reminder of the cinnamon rolls waiting downstairs.

When she steps out of the bathroom, Clint’s sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her with his phone in hand, and a quick glance at his ears shows her that his aids are in.

“Anything interesting?” she asks, nodding to his phone when he looks up.

He shrugs, slipping the phone into the pocket of his pajama pants as he stands. “Just the usual wishing of a happy holiday from Phil, Maria, and Laura.”

“Are they still planning on coming over later?”

“As far as I know.”

“Good. Now let’s go. I’m hungry.” She grabs his hand on her way past him, smiling when he steps closer and releases her hand to slide an arm around her waist. Only in the safety and comfort of their home will she let him be this affectionate toward her. She knows he soaks up every moment of it that he can.

When they enter the kitchen, Natasha can’t help but smile at the sight of her sister and daughters dancing around the kitchen, Christmas music blaring from the speaker. All three are still dressed in their holiday pajamas, the fuzzy socks on their feet making it easier for them to spin and slide across the hardwood floor. It’s moments like these that she’s beyond glad that she decided to find Yelena when she did and that her sister fits so well into their little family unit. 

“Mama! Papa! You’re awake!”

Natasha shifts her attention to her eldest right as Anya slides across the floor to her, nearly colliding with her legs. “We are. Are you and your sister ready to open your presents?”

Anya grins. “Yeah. Mama, can we call Peter and Aunt May later so I can show them all my presents and so I can see his presents too?”

“We’ll try calling after all the presents are opened, okay?” She runs a hand over her daughter’s head with a small smile. “Are the cinnamon rolls ready yet?”

“Ten minutes ago,” Yelena answers, slowly spinning an upside-down giggling Kat around the room. “You two were taking forever.”

“Forever!” Kat shouts with a smile. “Forever and ever and ever!”

“Well, we’re down here now,” Clint speaks up. “So let's grab some cinnamon rolls and go open presents.”

Natasha laughs as both girls cheer loudly and then dart into the living room, Yelena not far behind them. She spins on her heel to plate up a few cinnamon rolls, smiling when she feels Clint’s hands on her waist. 

“Need some help?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve got it.” She turns when she’s finished, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

He smiles against her lips. “Merry Christmas.”

Opening stockings and presents goes about the same as it always does. Yelena, Anya, and Kat settle themselves on the floor so they have more room to open their presents, both girls getting their auntie to help them tear the paper off each of their new gifts. Anya’s and Kat’s cinnamon rolls are, unsurprisingly, only partially eaten by the time presents are all opened, both girls being way too occupied playing with their new toys to be bothered with eating. Yelena finishes off the sweet treats, though, while she lounges on the other couch to further examine whatever gifts she got.

Natasha remains next to Clint the entire time, smiles on both of their faces as they watch their family enjoy themselves. They each get a couple of gifts from the girls and Yelena, but they don’t exchange gifts with each other; an unspoken agreement from that first Christmas together that neither of them really needs anything from the other. They’re both more than happy to simply give gifts to their daughters, that’s what’s most important for them.

.

.

.

“I am so bored,” Yelena groans from her place on the couch in the living room.

Natasha snickers, not looking up from her laptop. “Yeah, well, tough. You’ve gotta wait.”

“Ty takoy zloy.”

She rolls her eyes at her sister’s familiar remark. “I’m not mean, I’m a mom. And you’re not waking the girls up early from their naps just so you can stop being bored.”

“Anya does not even need a nap. She told me so herself.”

Natasha finally looks over at her sister. “So do you want to deal with her being extra emotional from being overly exhausted because she didn’t take a nap?”

Yelena blinks. “No.”

Natasha nods once. “That’s what I thought.” She shifts her attention back to her computer. “You can spend more time with them once they wake up. But not before that.” She glances quickly at the clock in the corner of the screen. “Besides, Phil, Maria, and Laura should be here soon.”

“They are not as much fun. I do not understand why you always invite them over. They are your coworkers.”

“And also my friends,” Natasha reminds her sister. “Or did you forget that they were the first people at S.H.I.E.L.D. besides Clint to show me any real kindness?”

“No, I remember your story. But just because they are your friends it does not make them any less boring.”

Natasha snorts. “Noted. They’re still coming over though. The girls will be very sad if they don’t get to see them.”

Yelena groans, a little louder this time. “Fine. But I am not going to share my popcorn with any of them.”

“Never said you had to.”

A knock at the front door pulls her attention away from her computer, a smile already forming at the knowledge of who’s on the other side. She shuts the lid of her laptop and stands, shooting her sister a silent warning to behave as she moves toward the door. 

As soon as it’s open, she’s pulled into a hug by Laura and Maria, a laugh escaping as she hugs them back. “Merry Christmas,” she says, once they break out of the hug. “Come on in. The girls are still napping, but Yelena’s in the living room.”

“Where’s Clint?” Laura asks as she unwraps the scarf around her neck. “Wait, no, let me guess. Chickens?”

Natasha laughs. “Where else?” She pushes the door shut once everyone’s inside and then starts to lead them into the living room.

“Mama?”

Natasha glances toward the top of the stairs at hearing the call from her youngest and lets out a breath. “Guess that’s my cue.”

“Oh, let me go,” Laura says, slipping out of her shoes. “I love seeing the look on their faces when they see me.”

Natasha gestures behind her. “Be my guest.” She waits for Laura to make her way up the stairs before turning and leading Phil and Maria the rest of the way into the living room.

“Yelena, good to see you again,” Phil says with a smile and a small nod as soon as they’re in the room. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your holiday.”

Yelena shrugs. “It has been okay.”

“Any chance you’ve reconsidered my offer for you to come work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Yelena sighs. “Phillip, why must you try this again? I am going to tell you the same thing that I saw everytime I see you and you ask me such ridiculous questions.” She shifts so she can see the man better, staring right at him. “You will have to torture me to get me to join your little group.”

“You really should give it a rest at this point,” Natasha tells her handler as she falls onto the couch, shoving Yelena’s legs to the side as she does so, ignoring the shout of protest from the blonde. “You know she’s never going to say yes.”

Maria snickers as she takes up a spot on the recliner. “Oh, you know he’s never going to give it up.”

“Who’s never giving up what?”

Natasha smiles at Laura standing in the doorway to the room with Kat on her hip and Anya clinging to her back. “Phil asking Yelena to join S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Laura laughs. “Yeah. That’s about as likely as Clint abandoning his chickens.”

“Why does everyone always have to insult my chickens?”

“Papa!” Anya shouts, glancing over her shoulder toward the front door. “Lolo’s here!”

“I can see that,” Clint says with a small chuckle. He slips out of his heavy coat, hat, scarf, and boots. “I take it everyone’s here and ready for some Christmas movies, then?”

Anya gasps. “Papa! Can we watch my movie?”

“No!” Kat shouts. “Frosty first!”

“No, we’re gonna watch mine.”

Kat shakes her head. “Moya!”

“Devochki, khvatit sporit',” Natasha says firmly. “If you keep that up, neither of you will get to decide. Why don’t you try picking a movie you both want to watch?”

Anya and Kat exchange a look, both their faces pinched together that Natasha knows she’d see on her own face if she looked in a mirror. Sometimes it’s scary how similar both girls look to her, something she’s always been eternally grateful for with Anya.

Maria looks over at her from her spot. “Is Anya still obsessed with that movie?”

Natasha sighs. “Don’t get me started. Just be grateful she’s actually answering to her name instead of ignoring you until you refer to her as some form of royalty.”

Maria chuckles. “That must have been fun.”

“It really wasn’t.”

“Hey, what about that weird clay one?” Yelena pipes up, her eyes focused on her nieces. “The one about Santa with the weird penguin and man who doesn’t like toys?”

Anya grins. “Yeah! I love that one! Kat, you do too, right?”

Kat simply nods. “Yeah.”

Clint claps his hands together once with a smile. “Then it’s settled. First movie of the night, ‘Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town’. Then we’ll go from there. Everyone get settled in, I’ll get the popcorn going. Anya, wanna get the movie going?”

“Okay.”

Natasha smiles when Kat climbs up into her lap with her favorite stuffed animal clutched tightly in one first. She holds her youngest close and presses a kiss to her hair, shuffling around a bit on the couch to get more comfortable. She lets out a breath as she leans her head back and closes her eyes, a small smile on her lips as she listens to her family chatting away as they wait. 

The couch dips beside her a few moments later but she remains where she is. She merely slouches against the familiar body, relinquishing her hold on Kat when the young girl starts to crawl out of her lap, no doubt going to cuddle with Yelena for the duration of the film.

“Hey, you okay?” Clint whispers in her ear as the movie begins to play. 

She nods, finally opening her eyes to look at him. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

She shrugs. “Nothing specific.”

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath, shifting on the couch and draping an arm across her shoulders to pull her closer. “I don’t know about you, Tasha, but I’d say this was a very successful Christmas.”

Natasha smiles at him, leaning up just enough for a quick kiss. “You know, I think I’d have to agree.”