Work Text:
“Every Avenger is required to come to the Christmas party. I even made it before Christmas so that Clint and Scott could make it.”
She frowns at Tony as he fiddles with Natasha’s widow bites. “I told you. I don’t celebrate Christmas. It’s a waste of time.”
“Okay, Mr. Grinch,” Tony smirks to himself.
“I don’t even know what to gift this person. Can I just ask them what they want?”
Tony finally looks up, his mouth agape. “That defeats the whole purpose! Secret Santa—as in no one knows who their gift giver is. You do know what secret means, right?”
“Of course, I do! I just don’t see the point. How am I supposed to thank the person that gave me the gift? How am I supposed to pay them back?”
Tony facepalms. “That’s not how it works.”
“Well, excuse me for never having celebrated in such a strange way!”
“Would you rather get every single person on the guest list a gift?”
“No…” She was freaking out about what to get one person. She doesn’t need to add more stress to her life.
“Then this is the best way to do it.” Tony, seemingly satisfied with that conclusion, turns back to his project. She simply huffs and walks away.
Going shopping is not as much fun as everyone makes it out to be. Especially when it is for someone else. Especially when that someone else has been nothing but the kindest person to her. Always helping her out and making her feel at home in such a foreign environment.
It has to be perfect.
And everything she’s seen so far has not made the cut.
She knows it’s stupid. It’s a secret Santa gift. He won’t even know who got it for him. She just feels the need to go all out since he has always done everything in his power to make her feel like she belonged. With a past like hers, she had always longed for a sense of belonging—of family. She has that now because of him. She can’t let him down. Not with something as silly as a little Christmas present. Maybe she could ask his best friend. Would that be breaking the rules, though? Tony never said anything about telling other people who they got. Then again, he never said she could. Besides, would the gift seem less sincere if she asked someone else for advice? She grumbles under her breath as she exits the store she was in. Why does Christmas have to be so complicated?
Maybe she could get him a set of new paintbrushes and some canvases or pencils and sketch pads. No, that’s no good. Too impersonal. That’s what everyone would get for him. She doesn’t want to be like everyone else. Her gift has to be special.
He has been talking about getting new fancy pencils, though. Something about his running out. But what if he already got more pencils? Then he’d just have too many pencils! She sits down on a bench and brings her knees up to her chest. Why can’t she just do one simple thing for her best friend? She is such an utter failure.
“Are you alright?”
Her head darts to the left, looking at an elderly man sitting next to her. His hair is grey—his moustache white as snow, and he’s wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses and a black winter jacket.
She sniffles and shrugs. “I’m fine just some Christmas shopping troubles.”
The man looks thoughtful, humming quietly. “Get them something that will remind them of you whenever they see it or use it. I always bought my wife special things that would remind her of our time together.”
“But… I’m not… I don’t know what to get him. It has to be perfect.”
He laughs. “As long as it’s from the heart, I’m sure he’ll love it.”
Furrowing her brows, she thanks the man for his advice.
She gets up and walks to the next store. She still has no idea what to get him despite the old man’s helpful guidance.
Then she sees it. She knows she has to get it. It’s perfect. She hopes that he will think so too.
The party is in full swing by the time she arrives. People are everywhere. She makes her way to the ostentatiously tall Christmas tree, and places her gift in the massive stack. Around her people are talking and laughing, having such a good time that she feels out of place. Public events like this aren’t her forte. Most of the people she doesn’t even recognise, so she’s very glad that she didn’t have to get presents for each of them.
Going over to the food table, she snatches a sugar cookie off of the tray. She nibbles on it as she navigates the crowd, searching for a familiar face where she’d be comfortable inserting herself into the conversation. The cookie is gone and she still hasn’t seen anyone she’d be willing to approach. Sure, she knows Clint and Natasha well enough, but the blonde and brunette girls don’t look familiar. She knows Sam too, but he’s talking with Rhodes and Maria, both of whom she’s only interacted with in the field.
If only she weren’t such an anxious wreck. Why is everyone already in a conversation? Why isn’t anyone inviting her into their little groups? Doesn’t anyone want to talk to her? Do they all hate her? Do they wish she wasn’t there to ruin the fun?
The room is too small and the people are too close. The walls are closing in. She can’t breathe. Maybe it would be better if she just went home. No one would notice her absence until the gifts anyway. Maybe they forgot to put her name on the list. Maybe she isn’t getting a present. Maybe the person who had her name decided she wasn’t worth it and didn’t get her anything. That would be so embarrassing.
She should really just leave.
Her arms wrap around her torso, trying to make herself as small as possible. No one will stop her if they don’t notice her. Maybe no one will stop her either way. Tears well up in her eyes as her breathing quickens. This was a mistake. She never should have come. Everybody hates her and they’re all going to make fun of her for crying. She really doesn’t want to test her waterproof mascara’s capability in public.
She squeezes past people, making her way back to the elevator so she can go up to her room where her fuzzy blanket, tea and stuffed animal collection are waiting for her. Most of the collection is from her best friend. Since she can’t find him, she’ll settle for the soft plush of the things he gave her.
She just has to focus on getting to safety. Not the shoulders that brush past her, not the loud laughing as she passes by—are they laughing at her? They probably are.
The elevator is almost within her reach when Tony announces the Secret Santa exchange beginning. With everyone busy looking at him, she figures it’ll be easier to sneak out unnoticed.
“Where are you going?”
Her rapidly beating heart picks up its pace. She zips around, looking at a blue almost robotic woman. She wants to leave, the tears in her eyes might just begin falling if she stays any longer. But she can’t say that. For the fact that the stranger would probably make fun of her and because she always gets rendered mute during her panic attacks. She wishes that her best friend were here. He would understand. He would help her.
“Let’s join the festivities,” the woman says in the most monotonous tone that she had ever heard.
Not willing to argue, she nods her head and follows the woman back to the swarm of people.
She fists her dress, trying to keep everyone from noticing that her hands are trembling. The crowd is thankfully quieter now, at least somewhat trying to maintain some semblance of orderliness. It’s still too much.
The presents are handed out, and she can get her panic down to a low simmer. Steve, Bucky and Sam are sitting across the circle from her. She wants to go over to them, but that would be mortifying. Everyone’s eyes would be on her and they’d all judge her and-
“Here you go, gorgeous,” Natasha smiles, giving her a neatly wrapped box with little Christmas gnomes on it. Her eyes widen. Someone got her an actual present. They took time out of their day to wrap it so nicely—oh my god. She should have done that with her gift! Now he’s going to think that she doesn’t care, now he’s going to think she took the easy way out because she couldn’t be bothered to wrap it. She just put it in a bag with some tissue paper. It’s not enough.
Tony announces that it’s time to open the gifts.
She looks around at the others, they’re all ripping at the paper. They don’t seem to want to preserve it, so she should be allowed to do the same. It feels a bit of a pity that such cute paper goes to waste. Not to mention the time it must have taken the gift-wrapper to neatly wrap it up for her.
As she opens the box, she is unaware of the pair of blue eyes watching her. He notices her hesitation and the anxiety and sadness radiating off of her facial features. He hopes his gift will take them right off her face. Those expressions don’t belong there. He wishes that she was sitting by him, so he could make a joke to see her beautiful smile.
He gets his wish when she pulls out an adorable stuffed penguin. She hugs it to her chest quickly before stuffing it back in the box.
She takes out boxes of her favourite tea and two new pairs of cute fluffy socks for her perpetually cold feet. It’s such a wonderful gift. She couldn’t ask for more. If only she knew who gave it to her.
Looking up across the way, she sees Steve with the pack of the pencils he wanted, a few new sketch pads, and a snow globe of the Brooklyn Bridge. He smiles. One of his real smiles that makes butterflies flutter in her stomach.
Once everyone has opened their gift, the conversations pick back up. Everyone goes to grab seconds from the food tables and to mingle some more.
Everyone seems to be having such a good time without her. They don’t need her around. She’s just a waste of space, sitting all alone and being pathetic.
She grabs the box of gifts and decides to leave. The path to the elevator is obstructed by people she doesn’t know. In fact, they almost seem to be surrounding her. When did the room get so small? Why is it so hard to breathe?
“You okay?” A familiar voice asks her. She turns to see Steve, her gift in hand and a concerned look on his face. “How about we go upstairs? You get anything to eat?”
She shakes her head, trying to regulate her rapidly increasing heartbeat.
Steve gently grabs her hand and takes her to the food. He picks out her favourite foods without even having to ask her what she wants.
By the time they make it to the elevator and the doors close, she has calmed down a bit. They walk to her room in a comfortable silence.
Her breath returns to her once they reach the safety of her home. The comforting smell of gingerbread wraps around them like a warm hug.
“You okay, darling?”
“Yeah, it was just… it was a little too much…”
“That’s a Stark party for you,” he wryly grins back at her.
“What did you get from your secret Santa?”
She lights up, her lips spreading into a beautiful smile as she pulls out the sweet gift. “I got some fluffy socks, some of my favourite tea and an adorable penguin!”
She snuggles the penguin to her face. It smells like cologne. A very familiar cologne. She pulls it away from her face and looks at Steve with wide eyes.
“I uh, I’m glad you like it.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking at the ground with a tint of pink gracing his face.
“Steve… thank you. You’re so thoughtful.”
“So are you.”
Her brows furrow. What does he mean? She doesn’t remember doing anything-
He holds the gift bag by his fingers and swings it back and forth, reminding her of the gift she got him. She gasps. “How did you know it was me?”
“Sweetheart, you’re the only one that gives me snow globes.”
“Oh,” she frowns. Does he not like snow globes? She thought he appreciated her gifts. Maybe she misread the situation. She just thought that it would be cool if Steve had a collection like she did. Instead of stuffed animals, he could collect snow globes. She thought he looked forward to the pretty snow globes she’d get him out on missions. He always greeted her at the hangar with a giant smile as soon as he saw her. She just assumed that he looked forward to the gifts she brought back. Was she mistaken?
“I’m sorry… I thought you… I just thought you liked them,” she mumbles, head dejectedly lowering. Why would he want snow globes? Collections are for childish people. Steve Rogers is anything but childish. She should have known better. It was her idea to start his snow globe collection in the first place. It’s not like Steve outright said he wanted a collection. It’s not like he told her he wanted her to get those mementoes for him.
“I do! I really like them.” Steve is quick to interject. “They’re scattered around my room because they remind me of you.”
Brows furrowing, she asks, “You mean it? I can stop getting them for you if you really don’t want them, I just thought… Well, you always looked so happy to see me after my missions and I thought that it was because I got you the snow globes, but I don’t know why else you’d be so excited to see me…”
“What?” Steve is appalled. How could she think that? He could give less than a damn about the snow globes. Just seeing her back home, safe—unharmed was enough. That’s all he ever really wants. “Doll, listen to me. The reason I am always at the hangar when you arrive is because I care about you. I need to make sure that you’re alright. Sure the snow globes are nice, but as long as you come home safe, I’m happy.”
“But… you don’t really do that with anyone else.”
Steve’s face is just about as red as a tomato. “I uh… well… it’s because… I don't have… uh feelings… for any of the rest of them?”
“What?” Confusion is etched across her face. He couldn’t mean… no. Not possible.
“Just… I’m sorry, never mind. It’s nothing, really,” Steve rambles, trying to save himself the embarrassment of rejection.
“You… you like me?” She says it as if it were such a strange concept. As if the idea of someone loving her was unfathomable.
“I mean, I do, but it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Really, I just-”
“I like you too…” she murmurs, almost scared to say it any louder. How can this perfect man possibly have feelings for her? It doesn’t add up. She isn’t perfect like him, she doesn’t have any defining features that make her great. Compared to him, she is nothing.
This could possibly be one of the most horrendous tricks she’s ever had played on her. On the other hand, it could also be the best thing to happen to her. “Can I… can I kiss you?” Steve asks, moving closer to her. She pauses, waiting for his face to crack, waiting for him to pull the rug out from underneath her, but he doesn’t. He looks so damn sincere. It would be impossible to be anything but with that kind of expression.
“Yes,” she whispers, leaning in to close the gap.
Steve meets her halfway, lips colliding. It’s gentle and soft, everything she’d expect from the first kiss with Steve Rogers.
“This is the best Christmas ever,” Steve says, smiling down at her with something akin to reverence in his gorgeous blue eyes.