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Chapter Text

"You’re seriously skipping Christmas this year?”

Clint Barton couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In the years since he had begun inviting his best friend to spend the holiday with him and his family, not once had she ever said no. He was stunned; his mind blown.

“Bah, humbug. No, that's too strong 'cause it is my favorite holiday.” She attempted an explanation for her decision. “All this year's been a busy blur. I don't think I have the energy.

“I’m not skipping it completely,” she assured him. “Just staying here in D.C. and doing my own version. It’s been insane at work, as you know, and the idea of just chilling at home watching Carol and that one where Sheriff Hopper from Stranger Things plays a kick-ass Santa sounds really nice. Yelena already said she was sticking around New York, so it works out well.”

He stared at her for a long moment, not liking the amused grin playing on her lips. Slowly, Clint shook his head; he refused to believe she was serious.

“No. No way. This doesn’t sound like the Natasha Romanoff I know. The Natasha Romanoff I know would want to spend Christmas with her family … at home on the farm … away from the bustle of the city. She would make sure her sister would be there, too.” 

Leaning forward, Clint’s forearms rested on the small table in her kitchen. His eyes narrowed as he attempted to glean the truth from Natasha. No, there was more to this story, he decided. A thought struck him. So simple; it made perfect sense.

“Is this about Maria?”

Her pupils dilated. Gotcha.

“Are you hoping to run into her if you stay in town?” Clint wasn’t insensitive to her plight. He knew what it was like to crush hard on someone and think you never had a chance with them. Luckily for him, the last person he had felt that way about was now his wife. Laura was unlike any woman Clint had ever met — present company included. Funny enough, it was at the annual S.H.I.E.L.D. Christmas party when Laura had made her move. She had maneuvered him underneath the mistletoe and kissed him good. By the end of night, he had asked her out. They were already married when he and Natasha were introduced. It didn’t hurt that Laura and Nat were like sisters now.

Natasha released the tension she had held in her body since her best friend had arrived at her door. She had known Clint wouldn’t believe her bullshit excuses for not wanting to fly out to Iowa this year. Not that she had any reason to think she would run into Maria Hill if she stayed. This time of year, Washington, D.C. shut down for a month and turned into Party Town USA before becoming a ghost town. What were the odds that Nat would be at the right soiree at the right time? Instead, she opted to bow out gracefully and just make Christmas a low key affair this year.

She knew Maria from work. Along with Clint — code name Hawkeye due to his sharp skills with a bow and arrow — they were agents of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division (S.H.I.E.L.D.), an espionage and security agency. Nat was known as Black Widow in the field, a nod to her training. The women had hit it off almost immediately, developing a fast friendship based on their complementary personalities, like-minded sensibilities, and deep appreciation for snark and sarcasm. While missions to far-flung locales had kept them apart for a fair portion of the five years they had known each other, this year was the opposite. For the first time in a decade, Natasha had found herself working stateside and getting some real use out of her apartment. As it happened, Maria had taken a leadership role two years ago and now worked out of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in D.C. This was the perfect cocktail. Although Nat had come to consider it as more of the Molotov variety.

Not one to be shy when it came to taking a lover, she prided herself on knowing how to read another person’s body language. To her frustration and embarrassment, she could not decipher if Maria were interested in pursuing a relationship with her. There was no doubt there was attraction on Maria’s part. All that training Natasha had completed between the Black Widow program in Russia — where she learned to be an elite spy and assassin — and with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the States, and for what? She could infiltrate terrorist organizations to take out dangerous targets and shut down literal alien threats yet couldn’t suss out a potential girlfriend.

“I think it’s time to put aside my feelings for Maria,” Nat said diplomatically. “She’s an amazing friend, who hasn’t shown the slightest interest in me romantically. I’ve got two weeks off and am going to treat myself to some me time. This way, I’ll have time to sort my head out before going back to work. It’s good.”

“You don’t know she’s not interested,” Clint told her. “She may not be sure if you’re interested. Have you ever thought of that?”

“Several times this year.” Nat smiled ruefully. She leaned forward, taking his hand in hers and putting her free one on Clint’s forearm. “I’m going to be fine. I promise you I will not die of a broken heart.”

“But why stay here alone? Come home, Nat. Laura and the kids would love to see you. Let us take care of you … and distract you if it comes to that.”

Her heart ached at his words; her green eyes shone with unshed tears. She smiled, letting out a small chuckle. “Damn. Can’t make this easy, can you? Gotta play the family card.”

Clint shrugged, flashing an irrepressible grin. “What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t learn from my kids’ example? Bet if I got Cooper and Lila on FaceTime right now, you’d have your bags packed and a plane ticket ready in less than an hour. Half that if I get Nate.”

“Asshole!” Natasha laughed heartily, gazing at her best friend with adoration. When she sobered, the love in her gaze never wavered nor did her resolve. “I just need to catch my breath. Christmas by myself this year.”

He let out a shaky breath of his own, then turned his head; the tree she had ordered from Amazon getting his attention. It wasn’t bad looking. She had done a respectable job decorating it. Still, it wasn’t the eight-foot-tall spruce that stood in the living room at Barton Farm. Now that was a goddamn Christmas tree. Made even better by having everyone over, allowing themselves to get fat and get drunk and make out under the mistletoe.

With his crystal blue eyes still on the fake tree a few feet away, Clint asked, “No parties? Really? Surprised Bucky didn’t try to snag you as his date for some shindig or other.”

She watched him carefully, knowing he was processing the idea of a Christmas without her; one spent on her own with no one for company but the television and those delivering her food orders. “He did. It would be a work hang for him, at least. Babysitting some diplomat from Wakanda. I told him what I’m telling you.”

“Bet his reaction wasn’t as subtle as mine.” Clint’s gaze met hers. 

They both smiled. 

“There may have been some begging,” she conceded.

Bucky Barnes was one of her closest friends outside of Clint, Laura, and Maria. They had been introduced by Steve Rogers, Bucky’s husband and childhood sweetheart. Unlike the others, Bucky hadn’t joined S.H.I.E.L.D. as a mission operative, opting for the security forces unit instead. It was the closest thing to a nine-to-five job one could get within S.H.I.E.L.D. that didn’t involve a desk.

This morning, Bucky had texted to inform her that he was now attending tonight’s office Christmas party and that she had to come. Nat wanted to know why the sudden change in plans. He wrote back, “Our Wakandan friend heard about it and decided he wanted to see how the other half lives.” She had snorted out a laugh when she read that, replying, “He’s going to be so bored. You’re going to have your hands full.” His response was brief and to the point: “That’s why I need you there.”

It wasn’t that Nat didn’t feel for Bucky. She truly did. However, she had made a promise to herself and she intended to keep that promise. He did beg more than once after she had told him she wasn’t coming. Even now, her phone buzzed and though she had it face down on the table, Nat knew it was Bucky trying desperately to make her change her mind.

Clint heard the buzzing. He figured it might be Bucky as he had already reached out before Clint had left S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters for his holiday break. The visitor from Wakanda was a handful on a normal day, but this visit was proving to be a different beast. Something had shifted between the Wakandan and Bucky; something that Clint thought could end up being exactly what Bucky needed.

Would Nat leave Bucky to his own devices considering how freaked out he was? Clint wondered. Doubtful. If he can get her to go to the holiday party, then odds are she’ll be coming home for Christmas. I can work with that.

“You’re really doing this.”

“I’m really doing this.”

“It’s not going to be the same without you.”

“Ditto.”

“What about your parents? Where are they this year?”

“Home in Russia. Melina wanted to spend Christmas in Kyiv and Alexei couldn’t deny her. Next year though…”

Clint grinned at the slightly horrified expression on her face. “What?”

“They want to do the full American Christmas. Rockefeller Center, Macy’s—”

“Bet Yelena’s thrilled to hear that.”

“—and dinner down on the farm.”

He froze. The blood drained from his face so that his pale complexion contrasted with his dirty blonde hair. Did she just say what I think she said? The anxious glint in her eyes proved that his hearing was fine. 

“Melina and Alexei want to spend Christmas Day with us?” Clint swallowed hard, desperately wanting to believe Nat was joking. That she was punking him just to lighten the mood. To his chagrin, she was not. “Our families under the same roof?”

“That’s the plan.” 

Not much scared Nat. With her upbringing and career choice, she would be hard pressed to think of anything. However, the prospect of herself, her parents, and her sister spending time at the farm with Clint, Laura, and the kids ran a chill up her spine. Even though she, her sister, Melina, and Alexei were not biologically related — they had been placed together when Nat and Yelena were kids to pose as a stereotypical American family in Ohio by the Russian government and the Black Widow program — the foursome were very much a family in every other way.

“Are you trying to ruin my marriage?”

“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen. If anything, the experience will strengthen your bond. I, on the other hand, will be banned from your life.”

He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, you just might be.” A moment later, he added thoughtfully, “But at least for a little bit, you’ll be where you belong.”

A half-hour later, they were saying their goodbyes and wishing each other a Merry Christmas. It was December twenty-third and Clint had a flight to catch if he wanted to make cookies with his family tonight and watch Christmas movies together ahead of their guests arriving on the twenty-fourth. 

Nat gave him a big, long hug; the one he gave in return would stay with her until January first. “Any chance of leftovers if I decide to show up for New Year’s?”

“No.” He was out the door without another word or a look back.

She smiled, making a mental note to check on flights before she headed downtown to the office Christmas party to save Bucky from himself.

Chapter Text

The laboratory nestled inside Avengers Tower, located in Midtown Manhattan, was a cozy sanctuary for Bruce Banner and his cousin Jennifer Walters. He was taking a break after several hours of working on a project that his best friend and partner in science Tony Stark wanted for an environmental initiative his company Stark Industries was spearheading for the city of New York. She had been in town for the past few days visiting her favorite cousin ahead of the holidays as Bruce wouldn’t be coming out to California this year. As a thank you for housing her and a chance to share one last meal together before she headed to the airport, Jen had brought a late lunch.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Bruce said dejectedly as he stabbed his fork into his Crunchy Noodle Salad. “You only just got here.”

“You could come with me,” Jennifer pointed out, her curly short brown bob making her look younger than her mid-thirties. “It’s not too late and my parents would love to see you. Not to mention the rest of the family.” She popped a potato chip into her mouth, an innocent yet hopeful expression on her face to counteract the less amused one her cousin now sported. “Besides, it would give you and me more time together. Yay!”

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head before taking a bite of his salad. “I’m not sure I have the energy for our family this year. Besides, I already committed to Clint and Laura, and I’m really looking forward to it.” He had a thought. “Hey! You should totally come with me! They’re having a huge family gathering with the whole gang. It would be great for you to meet everyone!”

A skeptical look crossed Jen’s face as she bit into one half of her Santa Fe chicken wrap. She chewed thoughtfully for longer than was necessary. “Is this because you don’t like that I hang out with Matt and Frank?”

“No!” Bruce protested. “I like Matt! I think it’s great you can be friends with your ex.”

“Ha!” She pointed an accusatory finger at her cousin.

“What, Ha?! What does that even mean?” He knew what it meant. Even worse, so did she.

“It means you don’t like Frank. You think he’s psychotic.”

“I never called him that.”

She looked at him like a cat waiting to pounce on the poor, unsuspecting mouse about to skitter across the floor in the hopes of making it to the next safe place. Bruce was that mouse and he was doomed.

“I might have said he was dangerous,” he muttered softly.

“Ha!”

“Stop with the Ha!s already. It’s not the same thing at all. He’s very much in his right mind. I just wouldn’t want to get on his bad side … or meet him in a dark alley.”

Jen had dated Matt Murdock briefly last year when the legally blind, New York-based attorney was in Los Angeles for a civil case for which she happened to be opposing counsel. Matt was now in a relationship with Frank Castle, a vigilante known as The Punisher whose reputation for violence did not sit well with Bruce. While he would never insert himself into Matt’s relationship, Bruce had no problem warning Jennifer from spending too much time with the couple. She listened to what Bruce had to say on the subject and then promptly ignored it. For his part, Bruce felt good that he had least tried to protect her, trusting Jen and her instincts more than he trusted Frank Castle.

What she neglected to tell Bruce was that Matt moonlighted as the vigilante Daredevil, also known as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and he and Frank had met on the job, so to speak.

“Speaking of unexpected couplings, where did Tony run off to?” Jennifer tactfully changed the subject. “Hot Santa date with Strange? Or did he have another key to the city to receive for telling Ol’ Saint Nick his reindeer used too many emissions and would have to be euthanized for the good of the planet?”

“Tony killed Prancer?”

The voice came from the door to the lab where a tall, muscular man with long blond hair who looked and sounded like he fell out of a Drunk Shakespeare sketch filled the entire door frame. Bruce choked on his salad upon seeing the strapping Norse figure as Jennifer slurped soda through a straw with great interest.

Since her cousin needed a moment to recover, she replied, “Bad joke. Prancer’s fine. Lemme guess. You’re the ass clown who ran away with dear Brucie’s heart last Christmas. What did you do? Drop it in a blender and turn it into a smoothie? You don’t really seem like a juice cleanse kinda guy.”

“Jen.” Bruce gasped as he finally dislodged the errant piece of hard noodle from his throat. “Enough.”

She shot him a glare. “Hardly. He hurt you, Bruce. Nobody hurts you and gets away with it.”

While he appreciated that, the situation didn’t warrant an appearance by She-Hulk. Not that She-Hulk was the vessel of rage that his own alter ego Hulk certainly was. Bruce still regretted giving Jen his own blood in a transfusion after they had been in a car accident last year while on a road trip yet was grateful her own transformation didn’t mirror his own in the slightest.

Confusion reigned supreme on the visitor’s face as he stepped further into the lab. “I hurt you? … Last year? … I-I don’t understand.”

“There are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year,” Jen explained. “Today is December twenty-third. Tomorrow is December twenty-fourth, the one-year anniversary of when you took advantage of this good man. Are all gods this dunderheaded or are you the exception?”

“How dare you speak to Thor Odinson, god of thunder, in this way!” A tall, striking woman with dark hair longer than Thor’s and dressed in a similar fashion now stood at his side, enraged on his behalf.

“Sif, it’s fine,” Thor told her before turning his attention to the cousins, one in particular. “It can’t have been a year, Bruce. A couple of weeks at most. This must be some kind of jest, though if it is I must say I don’t find it at all amusing. However, I will apologize for not being in touch sooner.” He glanced at Sif, then returned his gaze to the pair before him. “We’ve been hunting Kandarian demons. They turned out to be rather fierce and cunning opponents. In fairness, we underestimated them.”

“It was my fault for dragging him away,” the woman beside him apologized. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lady Sif, a childhood friend of Thor’s. You see, I had heard about the demons from a friend and, well, it was indulgent of me to seek them out. Long story short: I was bored and feeling reckless, and Thor is an exceptionally good friend.”

Thor’s gaze remained on Bruce, who squirmed under the intensity of its earnestness. “I always did have a taste for battle.” He remained silent for several seconds in hopes of a response from Bruce. When none came, he turned to Jen. “You must be Bruce's cousin Jennifer. He’s told me a lot about you.” Not even the demons had made him this uneasy. Bruce barely saying a word had Thor on edge. “Has it really been a year?”

Something about the sincerity in his voice and the shock on his features rang true to her. This time when she spoke to Thor, she did so with kindness. “Nice to meet you, Thor. Bruce has told me a lot about you, too. And yes, it really has.” She showed him and Sif the timestamp on the home screen of her phone. Still, she had one bone of contention with the tale the visitors were spinning. “Kandarian demons, you say?”

“Nasty, vicious creatures,” Thor told her. “Known to possess their victims.”

“You don’t say.”

“Jen, stop it,” Bruce implored, knowing what she was thinking. “It’s not worth it.”

“Possession is a nasty business,” she continued, ignoring Bruce’s pleas.

“Indeed.” Sif made a face as though she had smelled an unpleasant odor. “The way they burrow into their hosts’ bodies and make homes of their cadavers is simply disgusting.”

This made Jen pause. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh yes,” Thor agreed. “It’s why they are viewed as a scourge that must be eviscerated. Luckily, they tend to stay in their own dimension. If they ever got out, no one would be safe.”

Bruce felt relieved. “See, Jen? It’s nothing like The Evil Dead.” For the first time since Thor and Lady Sif arrived, Bruce spoke at length. “Kandarian demons are the antagonist in a popular horror movie franchise here. It was created by Sam Raimi and the original trilogy stars Bruce Campbell. Nothing at all like what you were dealing with.”

The duo from another realm stared at each other as realization began to dawn. Jen caught Bruce’s eye; her cousin shrugged, not having a clue what was transpiring between Thor and Sif.

“You two, okay?” he asked.

“The Kandarians kept repeating this one word the entire time we were there,” Sif explained.

“They kept screaming ‘Raimi!’” Thor picked up the thread, making the scariest face as he mimicked the demons. “We thought it was just their word for ‘kill’ or ‘die.’” His expression morphed into the sunniest smile. “Turns out we were wrong.”

“And you’re claiming that time runs differently in this demon dimension as opposed to here?” Jen quizzed.

“Absolutely.” Thor moved toward Bruce, who stood up in anticipation. “We came directly here from there. I had to see you and tell you of our great battle.” His face lit up. “I have proof!” He turned toward his friend. “Sif! The bag!”

Gleefully, Lady Sif ran out into the hall and returned with a cloth sack stained with dry blood. She stuck her hand inside, emerging with the lopped off head of what Bruce and Jen could only surmise was that of a Kandarian demon. The stench alone nearly knocked them all off their feet.

“Ohmigod!” Jen exclaimed through her hand, which covered her nose and mouth. “We believe you! Just put it away before I throw up. I’m a lawyer, not a doctor.”

Bruce’s compressed laughter came out in a snort. Leave it to his cousin to make a Star Trek joke in the middle of, well, whatever this was. That said, he wasn’t sorry to see the last of the head. It was returned to the sack and tossed outside the door with nary a second thought. 

Jen turned to her lunch and began packing it up. “I’ll eat this on the way to the airport. No point wasting it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce told her, fixing her with a knowing look in his eyes when she met his gaze. “I’ll clean up. Just, um, give me and Thor a minute.”

Taking the hint, Jen escorted Lady Sif out, giving her cousin the space he requested.

“Thank you for giving us time to rectify—,” Thor began sincerely. He didn’t get to finish.

“How dare you show up here out of the blue after a goddamn year acting like nothing happened!” Bruce raged.

Thor was thunderstruck by his friend’s anger yet smart enough to know he needed to tread carefully with his rebuttal. “As I said, Bruce, for me it was not a year but a few weeks. Long enough to know I needed to come to you and explain my absence.” He stepped closer. “What you must have thought about me in that time. What you must have felt. I am terribly sorry for any pain I have caused.”

“Any pain? Any pain?!” Bruce stood his ground, running his hands through his salt and pepper curls. “I opened up to you last Christmas like I have never opened up to anyone. Not Tony. Not Betty Ross. Not even Jen.” Betty Ross was Bruce’s ex-girlfriend and a fellow scientist. She was there when the Hulk was created. “What do you do? You ghost me like it meant nothing. That fucking hurt, Thor. Come to find out you were on some reckless hunt with Sif having a grand old time while trying not to die? Are you kidding me?!” He shook his head mournfully, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. “Maybe it would be better if you just stayed the Ghost of Christmas Past.”

Before either of them knew it, Thor had erased the short distance between and taken Bruce by the shoulders. “Don’t say that. I understand I hurt you immeasurably. It was not done maliciously, so please do not act so. As soon as I knew where Sif had taken me, I regretted my choice. Had I understood all the ramifications when she extended her invitation—.” He cut off that train of thought and took a different tack. “Despite how low she had been of late, I should not have indulged her. I should have been a better friend to her and to you. I am unbelievably sorry, Bruce. Please give me a second chance. Spending Christmas Eve talking to you all night was one of the most pleasurable evenings of my life. I wasn’t even disappointed in the slightest when I failed to spot that jolly old elf Saint Nicholas coming down Stark’s chimney.”

Somehow Bruce found he didn’t have the heart to tell Thor that not only Santa Claus didn’t exist, but even if he did there was no chimney in Tony’s penthouse at the top of Avengers Tower for Santa to climb down. Any blaze in the fireplace — no matter how realistic it may have appeared — was pure technology. 

“I was impressed by that,” Bruce said instead. “Gave my ego a nice shine. Talking with you had already boosted it more than I thought possible. Having your full attention didn’t hurt either.”

“You have my full attention now.” Thor’s hands moved from Bruce’s shoulders to cup his face. “You have been in my thoughts and in my heart long before this time last year. That night with you was the best present I have ever received. If I’m being completely honest, it was a big reason I agreed to accompany Sif on her quest. I wanted to celebrate how full my heart was and who better to do that with than my best friend?”

Everything Thor was saying had begun to shift the weight that had been sitting on Bruce’s heart for the past three-hundred-and-sixty-four days. “I appreciate that,” he conceded. “I went to Tony and Jen when my heart felt like it had been stomped on. The Other Guy even offered to find you and do the same to you. Not gonna lie, I was tempted to let him out.”

Thor smiled softly for a moment before it slowly faded, replaced with a trace of fear. “He’s not going to appear now, is he? We are in a better place now, you and I, right?”

“We’re getting there. Not there yet.”

“What else can I do? Tell me.”

“How long, exactly, have I been in your thoughts and in your heart?”

That smile that had faded only moments ago rebounded into one of the brightest Bruce had ever seen. “Officially? Sakaar.”

Surprise swept across Bruce’s features. Their time on the planet due to the machinations of Thor’s sister Hela had been memorable to be sure, but Bruce had no idea he had left such a strong impression on the god. “Wait. Officially? What does that mean? Was there a time when I was unofficially there?”

The light in Thor’s blue eyes was captivating. So much so that Bruce nearly missed his response. “The Battle of New York.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” 

This got a chuckle. “When you rode in on that tiny motorized bicycle…”

“It wasn’t small. It was normal sized,” Bruce argued.

“When you arrived, I was impressed. You could have disappeared after the incident on the helicarrier with Hulk and yet you did not. It only cemented my impression of you.” Thor paused as a thought occurred to him. “What about you?”

“Officially or unofficially?”

“However, you care to reply.”

“Unofficially, it grew over time. I really admire how you stay true to yourself and that you have a code of honor.” Bruce flushed from Thor’s adoring gaze. “And, um, officially… Yeah. Sakaar. You could have stuck with Hulk, but you brought me back.”

“I could never leave you behind, Bruce.”

Bruce swallowed. “I-I-I’m starting to believe you.”

“Good. You’re my star, you know.”

“I am? What does that even mean?”

“You’re my north star, Bruce. Your heart is pure and your instincts are strong. Plus, you shine bright whenever I look at you.”

No one had ever spoken to him like this. Bruce didn’t know how to react; all he could do was try to swallow his nerves.

Thor’s eyes slipped to Bruce’s lips then lifted back up to those deep brown irises that shone in the lights of the lab. “My only regret from last year was that I never kissed you. May I kiss you now?”

Barely a nod before their lips met in the softest kiss. Bruce wasted no time returning it and soon was teasing out kiss after kiss after kiss.

“Hey, I got a plane to catch and I’d like to say goodbye to my cousin before I jet,” Jen announced, sounding mildly annoyed though the grin on her lips said otherwise. The duo turned their attention to her as Sif stood in the doorway behind her with her arms crossed over her chest and a wide smile of her own on full display. “Thor. You got Christmas Eve plans?”

“No?”

“You do now. Bruce is heading to Iowa to spend the holiday with Clint Barton. You know him, right?”

“Yes, Barton is—”

“Cool. Give me a hug, Bruce.” Her cousin did as instructed, holding her as tight as she embraced him. “Keep the lunch and share it with him. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Jen. For everything.”

They parted a minute later. Jen turned to Lady Sif. “What about you? Got any Christmas plans?”

“I feel I’m about to.”

“Would you rather go moping around Asgard?”

“Not particularly.”

“Cool. You’re invited to the Walters Family Christmas Extravaganza. It’s ridiculous and totally awesome. You’ll have a time. Let’s go.”

Sif brooked no argument, following Jen out the door with a wave to Thor and Bruce. Thor had never seen her so compliant; he had no idea what to make of it. And that made him nervous. However, he pushed it aside for now, flushed with the knowledge that he had Bruce in his arms and that he would never let him go.

Unless a certain Kandarian demon crossed his path. 

He had a score that needed to be settled.

Chapter Text

The tavern was pulsing with vivacity as voices carried merrily throughout the establishment and Christmas songs from the 1940s to the 1980s poured out of the myriad speakers to the patrons’ delight. Closed to the public for the evening, the tavern on U Street in Washington, D.C., which was owned by S.H.I.E.L.D was playing host to a holiday party for the agency’s employees and their romantic partners. Everyone was having a whale of a time; gossip flowed as freely as did the alcohol and was being devoured as hungrily as the hors d'oeuvres.

Not everyone was enthralled with the proceedings.

In a corner of the tavern, tucked away at a table near the entrance where he welcomed every blast of frigid air that blew in whenever the door opened, sat Bucky Barnes. He came to the party in protest; his initial plan was to blow it off when the announcement was made. Unfortunately for him, his boss Nick Fury made that impossible by informing everyone that attendance was mandatory.

At least he wasn’t the only one who was stuck coming to this diabolical form of torture.

“How is it possible you look even more miserable than when I left you?” Natasha demanded as she set down two plates filled with appetizers. “I was only gone a few minutes.”

“Seven and half,” Bucky grumbled. “You said you would be right back and then left me to marinate in my misery. You only have yourself to blame for the uptick in my bad mood.” He glanced at the plates on the table. “Ooh. Mozzarella sticks. Nice.”

“My God you’re a pain in the ass.” She sat down across from him, tossing him a napkin that he easily caught. “Your mourning period is officially over.” He shot her a look, warning her to tread carefully. She ignored it. “I miss Steve, too. But we both know the last thing he would want you to be is a Scrooge on Christmas. He loved this holiday almost as much as he loved you. I know you feel the same. It’s okay to enjoy yourself. To go out and live your life.”

Bucky chewed sullenly as he listened to Nat’s attempt to shove him back into life among the living. She was right about one thing: He missed his husband. Steve Rogers had been his best friend from when they were kids until the day he died. They had been inseparable until the war. World War Two had been hell for a lot of people, but Bucky always felt it had been a real bitch to him and Steve. Not only had Bucky been a prisoner twice, but he had also had his mind wiped the second time and had nearly killed Steve when they crossed paths seventy years after Bucky had fallen off a Nazi train. Steve, meanwhile, wound up frozen in the ocean not long after that mission on the train separated them. It was a damn miracle they had found their way back to each other following all that.

Not all miracles last a lifetime, however. Steve died of a heart attack three years after they were married. It was an aftereffect of him having had five amperes of electrical current running through him while rescuing a derailed subway car filled with passengers in New York. None of the passengers or Metropolitan Transit Authority workers onboard were hurt. Two days later, Steve collapsed and never regained consciousness. Bucky was still pissed that his husband had been given a clean bill of health after the subway incident. That no one had noticed anything. That he hadn’t been able to save Steve.

Deep down, Bucky knew Nat was right. He had noticed his intense grief had been diminishing over the past eight months. About time since it had been a year and a half since Steve died. Not that he would ever get over such a loss — not completely.

“I know. I promise to start trying in the new year.”

“Fuck that,” she told him. “Start now. Go to Clint and Laura’s. I know you were invited.”

Christ, she was pushy. He couldn’t help it; the corner of his mouth quirked. It would be nice to get out of D.C. and be with loved ones instead of locked away inside his apartment. This reminded him that his friend was being hypocritical. “So were you, smartass. I don’t see you ready to hop a plane to Bumblefuck, Iowa.”

Nat grinned. “There’s my boy. I’ve missed you, Buck.”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Brat.”

“Takes one to know one.” She winked at him, then pulled from her beer glass. Plucking a round fried shape off one of the plates, Nat offered it to him. “Jalapeño popper?”

“Thanks.” Bucky took it from her and popped the whole thing in his mouth. Once he swallowed, he didn’t let her off the hook. “Why aren’t you going? You always go.” He paused to consider her. “Is this about Maria? It is, isn't it?”

“Oooh! Pigs in a blanket!” She pouted at the plate. “Damn. I should have gotten some dipping sauce.”

“Natasha!”

“What?”

“Answer the damn question. Even though we both know the truth.”

“She’s got me all twisted,” Nat said with a sigh. “I’ve never been this twisted over anyone before. I thought if I just laid low this year, did my own thing, it would be easier.”

“For whom? I’d get it if Clint and Laura lived in town, where there was a real chance Maria would be invited. But they don’t. They live in freaking Iowa. So, I think you’re safe.” Bucky chewed on another jalapeño popper. “You were hoping to run into her by staying here. Maybe even make your move?”

A frustrated groan tore out of Nat. “I honestly don't know what the hell I was thinking. Maybe the best thing is just to get out of Dodge and decompress with you guys at the farm.”

Bucky smiled, understanding her predicament. “I’ll go if you will.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Her own smile was bigger than his and he loved seeing it. “Shall I tell Clint or do you want the honors?”

“You can do it. He already knows I’m coming.”

“What?!”

Nat shrugged unconcerned over her friend’s indignation. “He didn’t believe a word of my bullshit when he stopped over before heading home this afternoon. I told him I’d be there for New Year’s as a compromise, which was just more bullshit. He knew it before I did, though I kinda knew it as I said it.”

“It felt true when you started though, huh?”

She giggled. “Yeah. I still believed it until about halfway through his visit. By then, it was a matter of pride.”

“You are so screwed.”

“Oh, totally.”

“There you are, White Wolf. I was wondering where you were hiding.”

That deep baritone could only belong to one man. 

The man who was the reason Bucky had felt the fog of grief lifting.

The man who made Bucky feel more like himself than he had in months.

The man who now had Bucky’s heart pounding like a jackhammer inside his chest.

M’Baku was a member of the Jabari tribe from the African country of Wakanda. Earlier this year, he had started traveling to D.C. on diplomatic business while King T’Challa, who also was the Black Panther, was away on his honeymoon. Everett Ross, who in his capacity as a CIA agent, used to oversee handling visitors from Wakanda; now that he was married to T’Challa that made things a little more complicated. Bucky had been placed on M’Baku’s security detail during the tribal leader’s first visit in the spring. From then on, M’Baku made sure Bucky was with him every time he was in the United States.

They got on well. As it happened, they had more in common than Bucky had even considered. While they didn’t agree on everything, they agreed on enough and respected each other’s point of view when they didn’t. In some ways, this reminded Bucky of his relationship with Steve. Pangs of guilt struck him at the oddest times. Not when he was with M’Baku, but when he wasn’t. When Bucky was ignoring the obvious by thinking of all the reasons why he shouldn’t be friends with M’Baku. Why his pulse racing whenever he was near M’Baku was simply his instincts warning him that he should be focusing on his job and not the giant specimen of maleness who belonged in a Mr. Universe contest.

Upon hearing M’Baku’s nickname for him, Bucky blushed. The fire in his cheeks burned brighter and spread to his neck when he saw Nat sit up and take notice of her friend’s reaction. M’Baku had taken to calling him White Wolf since an incident during his second visit over the summer. A man in his fifties had fired at the Wakandan, only grazing him. Seeing he had failed, the man gave chase with Bucky in pursuit. When Bucky returned after having caught the man, M’Baku told him that watching him take off after the shooter “had been like watching a wolf chasing its prey. Beautiful.” 

“We’ve been here for at least a half-hour ignoring everybody.”

A flash of disappointment flickered across the other man’s features. “I am not everybody, I hope.”

“You are most definitely not.” Bucky couldn’t believe he said that. He sounded like a lovesick fool. Worse, he sounded like all the girls he had dated back in the day. What the fuck was happening? His question was answered a second later when M’Baku grinned broadly.

“Good. In truth, I’m bored. I saw you with Agent Romanoff and grew optimistic. Was I right?”

Nat watched Bucky for a long moment as she considered the situation. Then, she grinned knowingly and told M’Baku, “Only if you grab a round for the table.”

“Done.” He laughed loudly, filled with good cheer. “I shall return.”

As soon as M’Baku left for the bar, Bucky buried his face in his hands. He wished his hair were still long so he could use it as a shield to hide the flush that now engulfed his cheeks. His left arm was made of vibranium and he considered his options. Maybe he could knock himself out if he put enough force behind it. Save him the embarrassment of acting like a complete moron in front of his crush. Oh, dear God. Is that what this is?

Nat remained silent, watching M’Baku talk to the bartender; when the woman looked over, Nat nodded to vouch for him before returning her attention to Bucky.

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question. “This is a good thing.”

“Is it?” Bucky sat back in his chair, leaving his hands on the table.

“Is he why you’ve stopped wearing your wedding ring? I’ve noticed since the fall but didn’t want to spook you by pointing it out.”

Bucky stared at his bare ring finger. Because of the vibranium arm, he had worn his wedding band on his right hand. One morning in early September, he had decided it was time. He didn’t think about it, satisfied with knowing that it felt right. Now, he understood that his heart was opening up again and that morning happened to be the first day of M’Baku’s latest visit.

“Yes.” A spike of fear shot through him as his gaze shifted from Nat to M’Baku at the bar and back to Nat. “I like him, Nat. You really think I’m ready?”

“I do.” She put her hand over his right one. “More to the point, so do you. Whatever happens, this is a big step. I’m so happy you’re taking it.”

It was a big step. Then there was the distance to consider. Bucky was based in D.C.; M’Baku in Wakanda. A future together seemed unlikely and maybe that was okay. Getting to first base would be a win.

“Three beers,” M’Baku announced upon his return.

Taking this as her cue to give the pair a chance to talk, she grabbed her phone off the table as well as her beverage. “I’m going to call Clint and update him,” she told Bucky. Looking at both men, she added, “You two enjoy the rest of the hors d’oeuvres here. Make a little holiday cheer of your own.”

M’Baku didn’t oppose Nat making herself scarce; in fact, he welcomed it. Nothing against Agent Romanoff, but he had been wanting time alone with Bucky all day. Director Fury extending an invitation to the company party was unexpected yet welcome — particularly once Bucky had confirmed he would be attending. These visits to the States were mostly bothersome as he had his own affairs to deal with back home in Wakanda. Despite what some may think, the Jabari did not rule themselves. 

Meeting Bucky had been a lovely surprise and made it easier for him to make these trips. If he had to come to America, then at least he could spend time with his White Wolf. M’Baku had been fond of Bucky these past few months. It was love at first sight for him; a notion he would have cheerfully mocked previously. He was aware that Bucky had lost his husband more than a year ago. While not known for treading carefully, M’Baku had attempted to do just that while getting to know Bucky. His attraction to his friend made such attempts trickier.

“Cheers.” Bucky now held his glass aloft, clinking M’Baku’s with a smile.

“Cheers,” M’Baku repeated, basking in the glow of Bucky’s happiness. “I’m glad we could have this time together.”

“Me, too. I’ve enjoyed working with you this year.” Bucky took a long pull from his glass. He was nervous and terrible at hiding it. “But I’ve really liked getting to know you more.”

That look. M’Baku knew that look well and was thrilled to be on the receiving end. It meant he had been right in thinking he was not alone in his feelings. “I have really liked getting to know you, too. I am here through early January and want to spend as much time with you as possible — off the clock, as you Americans say.”

Bucky’s smile, which had been brightening more with each passing second, now faltered and began to dim. An uneasiness washed over him. His eyes flicked around the room in the direction of where the speakers were situated high on the walls. No. Not now. I can’t hear this now. Damnit, Steve!

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled to M’Baku as he grabbed his coat from beside him on the banquette and ran outside.

Ella Fitzgerald was singing “I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm.”

From behind him, a stunned M’Baku heard Nat say “shit” under her breath. The next instant, he followed Bucky out the door. He didn't hear her mutter encouragingly, “Go get him, tiger.”

The cold was bracing even though Bucky was wearing his coat and had his scarf wrapped around his neck. He hadn’t time to pull on his gloves, his focus was on getting as far away from the bar as possible. That goddamn song had to play just when he was ready to go after what he wanted. Go after who he wanted.

Steve had loved that song, particularly Ella’s rendition. He played it not only during the holidays but throughout the winter season. More than once they had snuggled up on the couch to hear it or slow danced to it. Was it a sign that Steve wasn’t happy for Bucky and didn’t want him moving on from him or was Bucky simply so on edge about the whole endeavor that he read too much into what quite simply was just a song on a playlist?

No sooner had Bucky started to consider he had overreacted, then he heard M’Baku call out to him — a familiar bark he recognized from his trips to Wakanda as a guest of the king. He slowed his pace yet didn’t stop until he felt M’Baku grip his bicep.

“James.” He waited a moment hoping that the man born James Buchanan Barnes would say something. When he didn’t, M’Baku did. “It wasn’t so bad, the song. Certainly not worth running away from it like the duiwel was after you.”

Slowly, Bucky turned to face him. “Not the devil. More like a ghost.”

M’Baku nodded, understanding more than Bucky had realized. “Captain Rogers haunts you, White Wolf?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just terrified of what might happen when I put myself out there.”

“Perhaps both?”

This reply took Bucky by surprise. “What do you mean? You think I don’t want to move on and am using Steve as an excuse? Because I’m not.”

Hearing the steel in Bucky’s statement made M’Baku smile. This was what he had hoped to hear from him. M’Baku had his own thoughts regarding the song that had sent this wonderful man scampering out of the tavern. A wonderful man who was healing from his loss quicker than Bucky realized. “I think nothing of the sort. Sometimes when we think a sign is telling us one thing it is telling us another.”

Bucky opened his mouth to make what no doubt would have been a smartass remark. However, something stopped him from making it; there was truth in what M’Baku said. Taking that into consideration, Bucky thought about the song and the memories attached to it. He always thought of Steve when he heard the familiar melody and lyrics. Those lyrics now played in his head and a remembrance came to light.

I cannot remember the worst December

Just watch those icicles form

What do I care if icicles form

I've got my love to keep me warm.

They had been in their apartment in Brooklyn listening to the song one day in mid-December — four months before Steve died. When Ella Fitzgerald sang that verse, Steve told him, “If anything ever happens to me, don’t let those icicles hang around too long. Find someone to thaw you out, Buck. I couldn’t bear to see you shut yourself off.” Bucky joked, “You gonna haunt me after you’re gone?” One look at Steve’s face sobered him instantly. “Promise me, Bucky.” 

He had promised him then and now dawn was beginning to glimmer. 

“Sonofabitch.” Bucky breathed out the word. His eyes met M’Baku’s. “He wasn’t warning me off… He was pushing me towards you.”

“Captain Rogers is a very astute man,” M’Baku said as he held Bucky’s gaze. 

The air around them fizzed with possibility. How far they had come in a few short months, he marveled. He thought momentarily how the Jabari would react to learning he had fallen for a white American man. Not everyone in Wakanda had accepted T’Challa’s relationship with Everett Ross. Such close-mindedness had not stopped his friend the king from following his heart. M’Baku knew he would follow T’Challa’s example now that Bucky was willing to give this a real chance. 

“Though he can stand down now. His job is done.”

No way had Bucky seriously believed he would ever feel this light in his heart again. The feeling had come along so gradually over the past several months, he hadn’t truly considered what was happening until it slapped him upside the head. Or maybe that was Steve’s attempt to knock sense into him. M’Baku was a good fit for him; Bucky saw that now. 

It was all so clear. 

Another thing that became clear was that this could be their first Christmas together. Suddenly, Bucky became enthralled with the idea of introducing M’Baku to everyone as his boyfriend, partner, whatever the fuck. Everyone he cared about together under one roof. It was a straight up Christmas miracle that he now had a second chance at his happily ever after.

“How would you like to spend Christmas on a farm with me and my family?”

A sweet, slow smile spread across that dark, handsome face. “I would like that very much. Now that I have you, I want to spend as much time with you as possible. Kiss me, White Wolf. Then you can tell me the best way to meet the fat man with the flying deer.”

Chapter Text

It was a brisk, overcast afternoon as Stephen Strange sat on a bench overlooking a frozen lake. He had been sitting there for hours, not moving as he stared at the solid water before him. The branches of the trees surrounding the lake fluttered softly against the gentle breeze yet he didn't acknowledge them or the faint sound of bird calls from deep in the forest. There was only one reason he had come here and it had nothing to do with a love of nature.

A chill ran through his body, the cold beginning to settle in his bones. Still, he sat. He knew night would fall in a couple of hours, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. All he could manage was a despondent sigh every so often as he thought of her and how because of him she wasn’t able to enjoy the Christmas season like she had every year throughout her short life. From here, the lake appeared solid enough to stand on. Why couldn’t it have been that sturdy on that fateful day so long ago? If it had, she would be with him now celebrating the holidays; her sweet smile with a wattage that would light up forty Christmas trees. How he wished her days could be merry and bright.

Strange almost didn’t catch the sound of the portal opening behind him. Sorcerer Supreme Wong knew he was here, but Strange didn’t think his friend would come for him out of respect for his privacy today of all days. The whiff of a familiar aftershave, caught on the breeze, made him smile. The scent belonged to his lover; though not completely unexpected, having Tony here put Strange at an emotional crossroads. While he was happy to have been sought out, part of him still wished Tony had just let him be and trusted that Strange would call or text when he was ready.

Then again, Tony Stark wasn’t known for his patience. His brilliance as an electrical and mechanical engineer was unparalleled; the same could be said for his philanthropy. When it came to patience, just because Tony was capable of it didn’t mean he always indulged in it. He was more of a better to ask for forgiveness than permission kind of guy. Strange could relate. In his previous life as a surgeon, his fixation on being the best in his field meant that on more than one occasion, he would put his ego ahead of his patient. His luck had run out when he himself had become a patient following a horrible car wreck that damaged his hands, leaving him without a career or much of a personal life.

Finding his way to Kamar Taj, the mystic arts training grounds in Kathmandu, Nepal, and to The Ancient One, who had been his mentor until their death, had been the best decision Strange had ever made as it not only brought him back to himself, but also made him a better person as a result. Now, he was a skilled sorcerer, who was an ally of the Avengers and in love with one of their founding members. His life had turned out damn well despite the curveballs life had thrown him.

However, this particular curveball — his sister’s death — hadn’t simply changed his life. It had stayed with him, leaving a mark not unlike a surgical scar that hadn’t healed properly. Strange let out his breath slowly, mentally and emotionally preparing for the conversation to come; the one where he would have to let Tony in more than he had let in anyone other than Wong, who was his best friend.

“I see you managed to track me down,” Strange said in lieu of greeting. He heard Tony heading in his direction, snow crunching underfoot.

“Fat lotta help you were in that department,” Tony growled. “After three hours of trying every trick I could think of tech-wise, I finally headed to the Sanctum. Left Bruce to deal with the city’s pain in the ass environmental initiative to convince Wong to open a portal so I could find your nice, firm ass. He was surprisingly helpful.” 

The Sanctum Santorum, located on Bleeker Street in New York’s Greenwich Village, was where Strange lived as its master. There were two other sanctums, one in London and the other in Hong Kong. As the Sorcerer Supreme, Wong called Kamar Taj home but enjoyed staying with Strange in the New York Sanctum. 

Tony looked around at the lake and the surrounding forest, standing with his hands in the pockets of his black, wool peacoat. “Where the hell are we anyway? Sweden? Norway? Canada? Tell me it’s not the North Pole. And me without my list for Santa.”

Those last two comments lifted the corner of Strange’s mouth. “Tony, it’s December twenty-fourth. Fairly sure you’re a little late on that front.”

“It’s fine. I slid into his DMs last week. We’re tight like that.” He leveled a look at Strange that held an infinite amount of worry. That his boyfriend had gone off the grid with barely a word of warning didn’t sit well with Tony. Something was off with Strange and like hell he was going to be watching helplessly from the sidelines. “Where are we really, Stephen? No bullshit.”

Turning his head so that his eyes met his partner’s, Strange told him. “This is where my sister died. I come every year to pay my respects because I can’t make myself visit her grave.”

No quips. No sly remarks. Instead, Tony joined him on the bench and took a gloved hand of Strange’s in one of his own. “Why didn’t you tell me? It’s not like I wouldn’t have understood.”

Decades later, Tony continued to have some residual guilt over his own parents’ deaths. He and his father had left things unresolved between them at the time Howard Stark died, and Maria Stark had valiantly tried one last time to reunite her husband and son before she and Howard had left for their trip — not that they had ever made it to their destination. Even though Tony now knew the truth behind their murders, the guilt of not making peace with his father would haunt him forever.

“I was here when it happened, Tony. I saw Donna go under the water. I dove in after her and brought up her corpse. Not that I knew for certain she was dead.” Strange turned to look at the lake once more. “She couldn’t be, I told myself. I was so determined I could save her and that all would be well…. What a fool I was.”

Silence for a long moment. Then, Tony asked, “How old was she?”

“We were kids. It all happened so fast.”

“There was nothing you could have done, Stephen. It was an accident. A horrible, unfortunate accident. I’m so sorry.”

“Every year, I come out here and stare at this godforsaken lake, and you know what I wish?” Strange’s eyes again met Tony’s, only this time there was a despondency that shook Tony to his core. “I wish this were a river that I could skate away on. I wish I had a river so long I would teach my feet to fly. I made Donna cry, Tony. I made her cry and now I can’t stop. I don’t know how.”

Tony pulled Strange towards him; Strange’s forehead hit his shoulder as he broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. They stayed that way for some time. No empty platitudes offered by Tony, who knew from experience that was all they would ever be despite his best intentions. He couldn’t help but wonder if Strange had ever used his magic to try and save Donna. As he pondered the possibility, Tony grew more certain that Strange never had; mostly because Tony reasoned reality as he knew it would have shifted and he would have been alerted to any such anomaly via F.R.I.D.A.Y. (Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth). The interface with a female Irish accent was designed to work with his Iron Man armor; it was also Tony’s main user interface computer system, informing him of every kind of breach imaginable and giving him access to any database he desired.

“Thirty years later and I still harbor so much guilt.” Strange’s voice was thick with emotion. He sat up, pulling himself together as much as he could. If his speech was any indication, Strange thought he looked a mess; no doubt his eyes were red and puffy, his skin blotchy. In Tony’s eyes he saw a question he wished he hadn’t noticed yet couldn’t ignore now that he had. “No. I never cast a spell to turn back time to save her. I thought about it though. A lot. Worked out every possibility.”

“What happened?” Tony wondered, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Wong knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to get Schezwan from a place a few blocks from the Sanctum. I said yes without hesitation.” His mouth quirked upon seeing Tony’s silent raised eyebrow. “Despite how much I desperately miss my sister, it dawned on me how much I would be giving up just to have her back.” Strange gave Tony a fond look. “The more I contemplated it, contemplated her reaction, I knew I would lose everything if I went through with the spell. Yes, I did find one that would work.”

“I’m really happy you abandoned that course of action,” Tony told him, not caring how selfish he sounded. Cupping his lover’s cheek, he felt the cold smoothness of Strange’s skin on his fingertips and the softness of the hair from his goatee on the lower portion of his palm. “I never want to know a world where we’re not together and stupid in love. I need my wizard.”

“Your wizard needs you, too.” Strange nuzzled the hand that caressed his cheek. “I know I can be a selfish asshole, but I like to think even I have my limits.”

“This is why you're on Santa’s nice list. Plus, as a fellow selfish asshole, I can heartily concur that you do have your limits.” 

Tony pulled the man he loved into a hug, holding him tight as thoughts of what was and what might have been swirled in his mind. Eventually, he pulled back and stared longingly into those multicolored irises for a moment before capturing those irresistible full lips with his own. The taste of Strange on his tongue made Tony’s pulse race along with the need to reinforce his lover’s decision not to throw away what they had on an ego trip. In his heart, Tony knew that’s what it would have been if Strange had gone down the rabbit hole after his sister.

Strange relished Tony’s actions, appreciating how his lover wanted to remind him of what he would have given up had he chased after the dream of saving Donna. He allowed himself to be grounded by the taste and feel of Tony, by Tony’s touch and desire.

 “Let’s go home,” Strange said. “We can lose ourselves in each other for an hour or two before we have to be at Clint and Laura’s.”

That’s precisely what happened. Strange opened a portal into Tony’s bedroom at the top of Avengers Tower, magicking away their clothes once the portal had closed. What followed was the kind of tantric lovemaking that would make Sting proud. The men worshiped each other’s naked bodies, whispered sweet nothings, made their skin tingle with the promise of sexual delights. Their hard cocks took advantage of every available hole, slipping in and out with ease; cum drip, drip, dripping onto whatever fleshy surface was available, or pouring inside them to either be swallowed or secured with a butt plug.

When they finally wore themselves out, darkness had settled over the city of New York; the sun had set an hour ago. Neither had noticed the switch from day to night, too lost in the heady sensations that sex brought to the fore. Now, as they lay entangled in each other’s arms and in the sheets of Tony’s bed, a sense of calm contentment washed over them.

“Donna made you want to be a doctor?” Prior to the car crash that derailed his career and led him to his destiny as a powerful sorcerer, Strange was a world famous surgeon known equally for his skill as well as his cocksureness.

“She did.” Strange’s head rested on Tony’s shoulder as one hand lay on his lover’s chest, fingers running around the metal casing of the arc reactor that sat between Tony’s pectorals. “When she died, I vowed not to let a similar fate befall another family. I kept that promise, too, until my accident. Now I do my best to keep it in a different way. Magic isn’t foolproof. Though I like to think she appreciates my not abandoning the cause regardless.”

“I’m sure she does, magic man.” Tony pressed a kiss into the mess of black hair on top of Strange’s head; his fingers stroking the streak of gray at Strange’s temple. “You know, we don’t have to go to the Barton Down Home Christmas Jamboree. We can just stay here, order takeout, and talk or watch White Christmas or something.”

A strong shake of the head was Strange’s reply. Then, he added, “I want to go. It will be nice to be surrounded by our friends. The perfect way to get rid of the residue of the past.”

“But first a shower,” Tony declared. “The perfect way to get rid of the residue of the past few hours.”

“Well, that was nice while it lasted,” Strange grumbled, earning him a slap to the ass. He winced when he felt the butt plug move.

Tony checked his phone once he was out of bed, the blue glow of the arc reactor getting Strange’s attention as much as the well-toned naked form of his lover. There was a text message from Clint. “Slight change of plans. We gotta pick up the Baby-sitters Club on our way.” Tony had a spring in his step, shaking his bare ass as he headed in the direction of the en suite bathroom. “I’ll drive!”

Chapter Text

Kate Bishop woke up on Christmas Eve morning feeling excited. She had always loved the holiday season and even spending this one away from her parents didn’t ebb her enthusiasm. Granted, the same couldn’t be said a month ago at Thanksgiving when her mother Eleanor had informed Kate that she would be on her own at Christmas. Her parents had decided to skip the festivities this year to take time to work on their marriage. Instead of passing the cranberry sauce, Kate passed judgment on her mother and father. The memory had her cringing now as she recalled declaring them to be “selfish, narcissistic assholes” before storming off to her childhood bedroom.

Of course, the real selfish, narcissistic asshole was Kate herself.

“Irony. You are a cold, cruel bitch,” she said quietly now as she lay in bed. “Mad respect.”

It didn’t take long for Kate to get over her disappointment. She had been looking forward to spending Christmas with her parents after her dad Derek had been away on business for the past two years. According to Eleanor, this was one reason she and Derek needed this time alone. They were going to a couples’ retreat in Colorado (“If we were going to be living it up without you, do you really think I’d pick a place with trees and snow and questionable Wi-Fi?” Eleanor had wryly pointed out to Kate. “You and I both know I look amazing in a bathing suit,” she added with a wink and a smile.) and wouldn’t be back until the end of January.

By then, the spring semester of her junior year at Empire State University would be underway and Kate’s mind would be preoccupied with coursework.

However, that wasn’t her current fixation.

A quick knock at the bedroom door as her friend Kamala Khan burst into the room. “It’s Christmas Eve!”

Kamala’s enthusiasm was contagious. Bolting upright in bed, Kate echoed, “It’s Christmas Eve!” 

The next moment, the pair were bouncing on the mattress, squealing as though they had just won front row tickets and backstage passes to an Olivia Rodrigo concert. 

Kamala was staying over in the off-campus apartment for the next few days. A freshman at the university, she shared a dorm room with her best friend Nakia Bahadir. Neither Kamala’s family nor Nakia was thrilled when Kamala announced she would be spending December twenty-third through December twenty-sixth with Kate. As Muslims, the Khans and Nakia didn’t celebrate Christmas; the closest equivalent would be Eid al-Fitr — Arabic for “Festival of Breaking the Fast” — which marked the end of Ramadan.

“Why didn’t you get this ‘cultural experience’ out of your system years ago with Bruno?” Kamala’s brother Aamir asked after she had convinced their parents by encouraging them to “think of it as a cultural experience.” 

Bruno Carrelli was Kamala’s other best friend, who she had known since they were little kids. He was a sophomore at the California Institute of Technology and was staying on the West Coast during his winter break since he couldn’t afford a roundtrip flight back to their hometown of Jersey City, New Jersey.

What Aamir didn’t know was that she had also told their parents, “I just really want to be there for my friend. She shouldn’t have to be alone at Christmas.”

“Don’t be such a jerk,” she said to Aamir. “Abbu and Ammi basically adopted Bruno at first sight. Kate doesn’t have a second set of parents she can be with, but she does have me. She’s a good person. You’d like her.”

While Nakia did like Kate, Kamala knew she was a little jealous and disappointed they couldn’t spend the whole winter break together. Nakia had already forgiven her and told her she wasn’t sharing Kamala for the rest of their time off. Kamala agreed that was fair.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Kate told her after they collapsed on the bed, laying side by side. “I would’ve been okay on my own, but it’s so cool that you’re spending Christmas with me.”

“I’m happy I’m here, too,” Kamala replied, liking how their long hair — her dark locks and Kate’s chestnut brown ones — fanned around their heads. “There’s no one else I’d rather be spending it with. So, what’s the plan for today? Will there be Christmas tree decorating? What about cookies and cocoa and caroling? Are you a Christmas Eve gift person or a Christmas Day gift person?”

Kate stared at her, eyes wide, for a good long moment; then, she burst out laughing. “Wow! That’s the kind of enthusiasm I’m talking about!”

Scrunching up her nose as her cheeks flushed, Kamala muttered, “Sorry. I may have watched a few movies on Freeform.” She bit her lower lip, a hushed confession followed. “I want to live in Cameron Diaz’s house.”

“You’ve seen The Holiday,” Kate noted, while Kamala nodded reverently. “I’ve always been partial to Kate Winslet’s cottage myself. Now I want to show you the rest of Nancy Meyers’ movies!” She paused. “But I think your mother will have me disemboweled if I do and I really wanna make a good first impression.”

“Wise move.”

Just then, a loud pounding came from the front door. The girls sprang out of bed to see what was the matter. They raced into the living room, giving each other a panicked look as the pounding returned. Kate tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. Her shoulders relaxed instantly when she saw who was on the other side. She looked over her shoulder to reassure Kamala but saw there was no need. Her friend was eager to learn who was the mystery guest.

“Merry Christmas, Kate Bishop!” Yelena Belova shouted in her Russian accent, arms raised in a ‘Y’ shape and a suitcase next to her. “Am I the best present ever or what?” She didn’t wait to be invited inside, rolling her luggage behind her as she crossed the threshold. When she spotted Kamala, the blonde came to an abrupt stop. “Who the hell is this?”

“Yelena Belova, I would like you to meet Kamala Khan.” Kate introduced her two friends with mild trepidation. It wasn’t Kamala she was worried about. “Kamala, this is Yelena.”

Kamala’s face exploded in a flurry of animated expressions. Kate recognized it as a telltale sign her dear friend was about to fangirl. Hard. The Avengers and their superpowered friends — Carol Danvers as Captain Marvel in particular — had inspired Kamala to join the fight against injustice as Ms. Marvel, protector of Jersey City. Much as Hawkeye had inspired Kate to pick up the bow and arrow. 

“Oh. My. God. Ohmigod! You’re the White Widow. Sister of Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow. Holy crap! I’m meeting a legend!”

“Yes, you are,” Yelena agreed, looking bored before quickly flashing a toothy grin. “Is there anything to eat? The airplane food was shit.”

“You could have easily stopped for a bite on your way from the airport, you know.” Kate knew why she didn’t but wanted to hear Yelena say it.

“I know, but it was such a long flight and I just wanted to get away from all the yucky people. Food didn’t seem so important then as it does now.” Yelena knew what Kate was playing at and decided to run a little interference.

Not caring what was happening between the two, Kamala simply enjoyed bearing witness to their reunion. This was already the best Christmas ever in her opinion. No way other Christmases could compare. Not even Charlie Brown’s.

“That’s a real shame.” Kate was laying it on thick now. “Guess you’re going to have to trudge back out if you’re that hungry. There’s a good diner about three blocks west of here.”

They had reached the standoff phase. Neither one relented for nearly two minutes. Kamala didn’t know who would cave first and it was driving her to distraction. It was Kate who buckled.

“Whatever!” she groaned, flinging her arms out wide. “Get over here, you!”

“There’s my girl!” Yelena grinned, embracing Kate enthusiastically and holding her close. “I’ve missed you so much, bestie.”

“I’ve missed you more,” Kate told her, burying her face in Yelena’s neck.

“Not possible.”

“Totally possible.”

Not wanting to disturb such a sweet moment, Kamala carefully made her way to the overstuffed armchair and pulled her feet up under her.

“I love your guys’ friendship,” she cooed when Kate and Yelena broke apart. “But I’m with Yelena. We need to sort out the food sitch.”

Before Kate could respond, she heard a key in the door and the lock turning. No sooner had the trio faced the door — Kamala stood on one side of Kate with Yelena on the other — it opened wide and a young woman with chestnut brown hair like Kate’s entered.

“Oh, good you’re both up! I was afraid I was going to wake you.” The new arrival noticed Yelena; she wasn’t pleased to see the Russian yet was careful not to show it for Kate’s sake. “Looks like the gang’s all here.”

“What are you doing here?!” There was no keeping the surprise off Kate’s face as she came around to hug her friend and roommate Cassie Lang. “What about your flight? Won’t your dad and Sam be upset if you’re not on it?”

Cassie hailed from San Francisco, where she lived her entire life until she got into Empire State University. She met Kate at freshman orientation; they became friends, managing to share a dorm room in their sophomore year and opting to get their own off-campus apartment for their final two years of school. When Kate met Kamala a couple of months ago while performing a dare at the behest of Kate’s archery teammates, the two hit it off just as Cassie and Kamala had when Kate introduced them a few weeks later.

The one friend of Kate’s who Cassie wasn’t fond of was Yelena. She couldn’t put her finger on why the woman bothered her so much and that annoyed her, too. Still, they both loved Kate and that was why Cassie was never flat out rude to Yelena — even if she was happier when the interloper wasn’t around.

“My flight has been grounded indefinitely,” Cassie replied. “You can thank the giant dome of fog that is currently hanging over San Fran. I FaceTimed with my dad and Sam, and yeah, we’re all bummed, but I have chosen to see it as a sign.”

“A sign of what?” Kate inquired, hoping it meant that Cassie would be joining them for Christmas.

“That I am meant to be here with you guys and they are meant to enjoy their first Christmas as a couple without a child underfoot.”

Cassie’s dad Scott, also known as Ant-Man, and his boyfriend Sam Wilson, who became Captain America in the wake of his best friend Steve’s death, had been friends for years until they finally admitted their feelings for each other last New Year’s Eve. Scott had been inspired by his friend Bruce, who had bit the bullet and approached Thor on Christmas Eve during Tony’s party at Avengers Tower. 

As a diehard Avenger fan, Kamala had Cassie tell her the story of how they became a couple more than once. She even got Scott and Sam to promise they would tell her exactly how it went down when they came out to visit Cassie in the spring.

Kate snorted. “You’re hardly a child. But I’m so happy you’re here for Christmas!” She gave her a quick hug. “Have you eaten? We were going to head out for breakfast.”

“Ohmigod. Yes, please. I’m starving. Thought I would be eating on the plane so I didn’t grab anything sooner. Let me just drop my suitcase in my room—”

Kamala made a beeline for Cassie’s room, which she had temporarily taken over. “Lemme just grab my stuff and get out of your way! I’ll just need a minute or two!”

“Leave it, Kamala! It’s fine! We can share!” Cassie called after her as she followed.

Yelena saw the frown Kate’s forehead made. She hated seeing her friend upset. “Hey. It will be fine. Just a little cozier than you had imagined. Cassie and Kamala will share Cassie’s room and … maybe … you and I can share yours. Two little sleepovers nestled inside a big sleepover. Fun, yes?”

A smile flickered on Kate’s lips as the frown smoothed itself out. “The Russian nesting doll of sleepovers. That would be fun.”

“So why are you so worried, bestie?” Yelena ran her finger over the spot on Kate’s forehead where that frown had been.

“Because I’m thinking the low key Christmas fun I had planned for Kamala and me might not sustain the four of us. I really want this Christmas to be special — for everyone.”

“It will be.” Yelena took Kate’s hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “How about we all discuss it over breakfast, yes? That way each of us gets a say. A communal Christmas.”

The idea had merit. In fact, it got Kate thinking about an invite she had received several weeks ago. One she had hastily turned down because she had incorrectly believed she would be spending the holiday with her parents. When her plans changed, Kate was too embarrassed to ask if the invitation was still valid. It was stupid, she knew. She had no doubt she would be welcomed with open arms if she just put aside her pride. Kate thought about this possible solution all through breakfast at the same diner she had suggested to Yelena during their standoff earlier. Her friends had come up with some great ideas, but Kate couldn’t shake the feeling that she should broach the topic of a potential road trip.

“What’s up, Bishop?” Cassie demanded once they were back at their apartment. “You’ve been somewhere else since breakfast.”

“Would you rather not do the whole Christmas thing?” Kamala asked hesitantly.

“No! That’s not it at all,” Kate assured her and the others. “Everybody take a seat. I have a proposal. We’ll vote on it and go from there. Fair?”

Each of the three women nodded. A quick glance at Yelena made Kate think the blonde knew what she was about to say. She probably did, Kate rationalized, considering her sister had been invited, too.

“So, you know Clint Barton?” she began. “My mentor?”

“The Avenger known as Hawkeye,” Kamala pointed out, beaming with pride. “The mantle you’ll be picking up soon enough.”

Kate couldn’t help but giggle. She loved how much of a fangirl Kamala was — definitely gave Kate a run for her money in that department. “Yes. Although the mantle thing is still a bit up in the air.”

“Mere formality,” Kamala said confidently.

“You’d rather we hang out with my dad’s and Sam’s friends instead of the four of us staying here?” Cassie asked skeptically. “Kinda defeats the purpose of this whole thing, doesn’t it?”

“Nope. Not in the slightest. I want to spend Christmas with my family. You ladies are my family. Clint, Laura, and their kids are also my family. Natasha is Yelena’s sister, therefore family. The Avengers are a family regardless if they suit up. Why not have the biggest family Christmas any of us have ever seen — apart from Kamala, who from her stories seems to have a big family of her own.”

Kamala grinned. “I’m all for big families. So long as you guys are there.”

Yelena shrugged, playing it cool despite feeling the opposite of noncommittal. “You had me at Natasha.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “They are never going to let me hear the end of it.” 

She was thinking of her dad’s and Sam’s reactions when they found out she went to the Avengers Christmas party while they were stuck in foggy San Francisco. Whatever. They would deal. Besides, Laura was like a second mother to her — not going home also meant not seeing her own mom Maggie and stepdad Jim Paxton, which sucked; she had called Maggie on the cab ride from the airport to break the bad news — and seeing the entire Barton clan again would be nice since she couldn’t be with her own family. 

“But Kamala’s right,” she admitted. “If you guys are there, it’s all good. I’m in.”

Was this really happening? Kate couldn’t believe how easily they all agreed to it. She thought for sure there would be more dissension. “So, just to be sure we are all on the same page, each of you wants me to call Clint and see if we can make this happen?”

Again, they all nodded.

“Um.” Kamala had her hand raised, uncertainty clouding her usually cheerful demeanor. “Not to be a buzzkill, but where is this party? And how are we getting there?”

Shit, Kate thought. I really should have gone over all of this with them before we got swept away by the excitement of it all.

“She makes an excellent point, Kate Bishop.” Yelena called her by her first and last names only when she was in an impish mood. It happened a lot.

“Road trip. I have access to my parents’ SUV while they’re away. It’s going to be a long drive since Iowa is at least sixteen hours from here. Plus, we’ll have to factor in stops for gas and bathroom breaks, but they can happen at the same stop.” Kate looked at each of her friends. “Still want me to make the call?” She settled her gaze on Kamala. “You want to call your parents first?”

“You should definitely run it by your parents first.” Cassie didn’t want Kamala getting into trouble on their account. She was already certain the trip wouldn’t happen without Kamala and she wouldn’t want to go without her friend. “No point in calling Clint if you’re not allowed to leave the New York/Jersey City area.”

For a moment, Kamala thought about it only to shake her head. “Kate should call Clint and see what’s up. I’m not going to my parents without an answer from him. That would be suicide.”

“Honestly, Cassie. You really should have thought of that.” Yelena smirked.

Cassie glared at her in response.

Kate pulled out her phone and waved it to get everyone’s attention. “Okay. Hey. Hi. I’m calling.” She considered putting it on speaker, but chickened out as she didn’t want to be embarrassed if Clint said no.

He didn’t say no.

In fact, he and Laura were genuinely thrilled that all four girls were coming. Laura had told Kate to make sure everyone packed for at least three days and not to worry because there was plenty of space. She even offered to call Kamala’s parents when Kate mentioned they still had to get clearance from the Khans.

Twenty minutes later, Kamala’s mother Muneeba called her daughter’s phone and told her she was allowed to go. Kamala agreed to check in three times a day every day that she was gone, starting tonight when she got to the airport and again right before the plane took off, not to mention once she arrived at the Barton residence.

“Airport?” Kamala wondered, looking at Kate questioningly. Her friend shrugged, then checked her own phone when it buzzed with a text. “We’re flying?”

“Of course, you are flying, beta.” Muneeba said it like it was the plan all along. “We don’t want to risk you four driving all the way to Iowa. Just be sure to thank Mr. Stark and Doctor Strange for allowing you to accompany them.”

And just like that, Kamala Khan experienced her first Christmas miracle.

Chapter Text

Clint Barton and his wife Laura couldn’t believe how many people had gotten in touch over the past twenty-four hours to see if it were too late to accept their invitation to spend Christmas Eve at their home. The RSVPs came flooding in between the time Clint had left Natasha’s apartment yesterday and this morning, which was December twenty-fourth. Prior to that, only Bruce, Tony, Strange, and one other had accepted. When he had climbed into the family SUV at the airport last night, Laura had told her husband that she had heard from Thor.

“Where the hell has he been for the past year?” Clint had asked as Laura drove toward the highway onramp.

“We’ll find out tomorrow when he arrives … with Bruce. Pretty sure they’re together.” 

This piece of news had Clint raising an eyebrow, but he opted to let it slide for the moment.

Once they were home, their fourteen-year-old daughter Lila excitedly announced, “Aunt Nat is coming tomorrow! She’s bringing Bucky and his friend M’Baku.”

“Oh, yeah,” said their sixteen-year-old son Cooper, who had previously overheard his parents talk about Bucky and M’Baku. “They’re more than friends. Probably just means they haven’t DTR’d yet.”

“What does DTR mean?” asked eight-year-old Nate, who was named after his aunt Natasha and was the youngest Barton child.

“Define the relationship,” Laura explained to him. She looked at each member of her family in turn. “This is a good thing for Bucky. So, no one pushes or prods or says stupid things, got it?”

They all vocally gave their consent before diving into the pizzas and chicken wings Clint and Laura had picked up for dinner.

This morning had brought an apologetic yet desperate phone call from Kate, who wanted to know if it was too late to change her mind and bring along her three friends. Laura emphatically told her husband to do whatever it took to get them all here safe as the idea of those four young women driving all the way from Manhattan on Christmas Eve gave her heart palpitations. It wasn’t until he looked at every flight available and got a “Hell, no!” from his boss Nick Fury when he asked to borrow a helicopter that Clint decided to take a chance and ask Tony. Just as Clint was about to call Kate and tell her not to bother, his phone alerted him to a text from Tony.        

“Just call me Santa,” it read.

Now it was late afternoon on Christmas Eve and their guests were starting to trickle in through the front door. As Clint suspected who was ringing the doorbell based on an earlier text, he asked the first guest to arrive if she would be so kind as to answer it.

Maria Hill had been surprised when Clint had inquired if she would like to spend the holiday with him and his family, but the idea appealed to her in many ways. She had been disappointed when Natasha had told her she wasn’t attending this year’s festivities as Maria had been really looking forward to spending quality time with her away from work and, just maybe, catching her under the mistletoe. Still, Maria couldn’t shake how nice sharing Christmas with the Bartons sounded and perhaps she would get to know some of Nat’s friends, too. When in Rome, right?

The surprise she imagined that was etched on her face was mirrored in Natasha’s. For a moment, Maria forgot how to form words. She tried several times, finally throwing out a basic greeting.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Bucky and M’Baku watched as the women tried to figure out what to do next as neither was expecting the other to be at the farmhouse. Nat sure as hell never expected the crush she had been chasing all year to be answering the damn door.

“This is boring,” M’Baku declared. “Can we get inside where it’s warm and there is delectable smelling food? Plus, I demand to see what their Christmas tree looks like.”

He had developed a fascination with holiday decor since being in D.C. this month and seeing how the city went all out. Everything in America was so big and so much.

It said a lot that Bucky chuckled instead of telling his friend to shut up. At some point his own attitude may change but until that time came, he was enjoying the so-called honeymoon phase.

“Hey, Maria. How about letting me and the Bumble here inside so we can get out of the way?”

She blinked, then came to her senses. “Of course. Sorry about that. Please come in.

“What’s a Bumble?” M’Baku asked Bucky as he was led into the farmhouse. “And why do I think that it is some kind of insult?”

Maria shut the door, happy that Natasha hadn’t run after them. She tucked a strand of her chin length brown hair behind her ear. “Nice that I wasn’t the only one in the dark.”

Nat considered her for a moment. “Looks like the lights are working just fine now.”

“I’ll have to thank Santa for giving me my gift early.” Was she pushing it by being so flirty? The woman just got here for crying loud. Then again, Maria had been waiting the better part of a year for the right time to make a move. She had a feeling it was now or never.

“Funny,” Nat grinned. “I had the exact same thought.” They both smiled shyly. She couldn’t believe this was finally happening. “To think, I almost didn’t come.”

“I’m glad you did. I was sad when Clint said you had declined.”

“Yet you came anyway.” Now Nat understood why he had pushed so hard for her to come. Though she knew his motives weren’t entirely selfless and for that, she loved him even more.

Lifting her shoulder, Maria grinned. “Figured it would be nice to spend Christmas with friends instead of being alone. Plus, it would give me a chance to get to know your friends and that might somehow give me an edge when it comes to you and me.”

“I do love a woman with a plan.” Nat stepped closer, suddenly happy she had straightened her shoulder-length ginger tresses this morning instead of keeping her unruly curls. Her heart tightened when she saw the yearning in Maria’s bright blue eyes. “Maybe we can start making plans together.”

“Pretty sure you have one in mind, right now.” Maria closed the small gap between them. Her breath hitched when Nat tilted her head up towards her own.

“Pretty sure you have the same one in mind.” Nat smirked. The next second, it vanished as Maria’s mouth found hers.

In the living room, M’Baku was admiring the Barton family tree as Bucky warmly embraced Clint and Laura separately.

“Thank you both for taking us in on such short notice,” he said. “M’Baku and I appreciate it, but especially me. It means a lot. More than you realize.”

“Don’t be silly,” Laura told him. “Clint and I understand. I couldn’t have been happier when Nat told us you were coming. But then she said you were bringing a friend…”

“I thought no one was supposed to push or prod or say stupid things,” Clint reminded his wife.

“Crap.” Her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, Bucky. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen with M’Baku, I’m happy you’re here and that you’re not alone.”

Clint pressed a kiss to Laura’s temple. “That goes double for me.” He glanced over at M’Baku, who was now crouched in front of the blaze in the fireplace with his head tilted as he tried to peek up the chimney without getting burned. “Everything alright there, M’Baku?”

Rising to his full height — a good six inches taller than Clint — he joined his love and his hosts. “I wanted to ascertain how the fat man would squish himself down your chimney without catching fire.”

“Magic,” Bucky said in all seriousness.

“Actually,” Clint interjected, “why don’t we put on The Santa Clause? The kids love it and we got a Disney Plus subscription.”

Laura fixed him with a gaze that he usually saw on Fury’s face when he was pissed because one of his employees had fucked up. Clint hated that look more when his wife wore it. 

“We are not watching TV when we already have guests with more on the way. Plus, I need help getting the table set and a little assistance in the kitchen would be nice.”

He smiled sympathetically. “I wasn’t suggesting I would leave you all alone, hon. Of course, I’ll help.”

“So will we,” Nat volunteered her and Maria, much to the brunette’s horror.

“I’ll set the table,” Maria offered. “You do not want me in the kitchen.”

“Besides, it will give Bucky and the kids a chance to introduce M’Baku to our cultural holiday customs,” Nat added.

Bucky gave Laura a wry grin as he raised his vibranium arm, a gift from T’Challa after Bucky had been given sanctuary in Wakanda following his Winter Soldier phase where he had been a brainwashed assassin for the enemy. He had previously lost his arm when he fell from a moving train during World War II. “Besides, I’m not sure how much help I would be. I can move hot items on the stove or grab something from the oven.”

She smiled appreciatively. “I may take advantage of that but go round up the kids. Clint’s right. They love that movie. You and M’Baku have fun.”

“Is this a documentary filled with archival footage?” M’Baku inquired as the group gathered in front of the large television screen in the family room.

“Not even close,” Lila told him. “It’s just a fun movie.”

“Have you seen it, Bucky?” Nate asked. He told the boy he hadn’t. “Oh my gosh. You’re gonna love it! You, too, Mr. Baku!”

“Thank you, young one. I’m looking forward to it.” M’Baku winked at Nate, who beamed at him before turning to the screen. The Wakandan caught Bucky gazing at him affectionately. He brought his love’s vibranium hand up and brushed the knuckles with his lips. Though he enjoyed seeing Bucky’s Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed, this was not the time for anything more. “Let’s see what happens to the fat man.”

While he enjoyed watching the movie with M’Baku and the Barton kids, Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen when it was time for him and his boyfriend to guide the sleigh, so to speak. Because while that kiss to his vibranium hand was gentlemanly, the naughty glint in M’Baku’s deep brown eyes was decidedly not.

“Alright. I’ve gotta give credit where it’s due,” Tony declared during dinner with the entire Barton family and their friends gathered around the dining room table. “This cherry glaze for the ham is fantastic, Laura.” He whipped his head from Laura’s seat at one end of the table to the opposite end, where her husband sat. “Or is this part of your culinary repertoire, Barton?”

“Can’t just give a compliment and let it drop, can you?” Strange asked, squeezing Tony’s knee affectionately under the table.

“Now where is the fun in that?” Tony replied, giving his boyfriend a salacious wink.

“It’s a cherry cola glaze, actually.”

The response came from neither Laura nor Clint, but from an unexpected source. All eyes were on Thor, who was beaming proudly at his achievement.

“Shut the front door!” Tony exclaimed, not quite believing the Norse god was potentially a god in the kitchen, as well. “Well, aren’t you just full of surprises? Had I known there was going to be a cooking demonstration, I would have made sure we showed up sooner.”

In fact, it was Tony’s legendary packing process that delayed him and Strange by at least forty minutes. Meanwhile, Strange had portaled to the New York Sanctum once they had showered; taken care of some last-minute things that had required his attention; checked in with Sorcerer Supreme Wong, thanking him for sending Tony to the lake earlier; and still had to wait an extra fifteen minutes once he portaled back to Tony’s apartment. By the time they had picked up the girls at Kate and Cassie’s place and got to the private airport that housed the quinjet, they were running more than an hour and a half behind schedule. Strange had ignored Tony’s protests and called their hosts once they were settled in the jet to let them know they were finally on their way. He had also noted Kamala was making a call of her own to her parents, which he appreciated.

Strange snorted. “No, you wouldn’t have.” He addressed Thor. “The glaze truly is divine. Is this a natural talent? Were you schooled in any way?”

“I learned from my mother,” Thor confessed. “She had made me join her in the kitchen — away from the help so as not to disturb their work — as a punishment several times when I was a youngling. To our surprise, I liked cooking and was good at it. Not to mention, I enjoyed having her all to myself without Loki, who always got her undivided attention.”

His smile had a touch of sadness to it. Freya Odinson was murdered several years ago by Dark Elves after they had laid siege on the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf on Asgard, Thor’s home world and one of the Nine Realms along with Earth. 

He also missed his adopted brother Loki, who was with a bunch of friends somewhere outside the Nine Realms. Thor knew one of them was named Sophie and was a female variant of his brother’s — he decided it was best not to ask too many questions; and there was a human whom Loki was rather fond of — almost similar to how Thor was fond of Bruce from the way his brother talked of him — and while he could not recall his name, Thor knew the man in question very much liked what the people on Earth called a jet ski.

“As I grew older and my interests turned to becoming a great warrior, I neglected my culinary skills though I never forgot them. We had some better than average meals often while we made camp as a result. Once she died, I began cultivating them once more. It’s especially easy to do so here on Midgard.” This was the name Asgardians had for Earth.

Thor caught Bruce’s eye. “When the opportunity arose to help in the creation of this fine meal Laura had planned for us, I couldn’t refuse. Especially since I had a chance to impress my star.”

Bruce smiled at the god with long blond hair when he heard Thor use his preferred term of endearment for him. “I had no idea he could cook until a few hours ago!”

They had traveled via the Bifrost Bridge, a dimensional energy which allows Asgardians instantaneous travel within the Nine Realms. After Jen and Lady Sif left them to their devices in the laboratory in Avengers Tower, they took the subway to Bruce’s apartment in SoHo so Bruce could pack a bag for their trip to Iowa. Thor wondered if Bruce had been planning to spend the night at the farm instead of here in his own place. When Thor reminded him of the Bifrost and how it could conveniently return them to his apartment later that night, Bruce took the hint. He even confirmed that Thor was allowed to stay over, making his new boyfriend ecstatic. Bruce’s first trip via Bifrost went better than he had expected — only throwing up once, which Thor considered an absolute success. While Bruce recovered his equilibrium by joining Nat, Maria, and Clint in the living room, Thor had offered Laura assistance with the meal.

“It really is excellent, by the way,” Bruce told him now. “Maybe you can make something that you made with your mom sometime?”

“I would love nothing more,” Thor said softly, holding his star’s gaze a little longer. “But the real hero of this meal is Laura Barton.” He raised his wine glass in a toast. “To Laura!”

The group echoed his toast with Kamala rising once everyone took a sip of their respective beverages. 

“Hi, everyone. I’m Kamala Khan for those who are wondering who the Pakistani girl is sitting next to Kate.” She had anticipated light laughter, slightly taken aback when none came. The group from New York had arrived just in time to grab a seat at the table; there wasn’t time for proper introductions though she knew everyone’s name. “Okay. Um, I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to Mr. and Mrs. Barton–.”

“Laura.”

“Clint.” He added sincerely, “You’re with Kate. That makes you family.”

“We are so happy to have you here, Kamala,” Laura told her. “Clint’s right. You’re family now.”

Kate took her friend’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She was beaming up at Kamala from her seat, her eyes wet with unshed tears. The young women giggled when Kamala started crying happy tears.

After a few seconds, Kamala found her voice again. “And I want to thank Kate for inviting me to spend Christmas with her. It’s my first time celebrating in such a big way and I had no idea how much it would mean to me. Not only have I been accepted into a new family–”

“Two!” shouted Cassie and Yelena simultaneously. They caught each other’s eye — Cassie sat next to Kamala while Yelena was sitting next to Kate — for a moment before dissolving into laughter. It was the first time they had ever wholeheartedly agreed on anything.

“Kamala Khan. Miracle worker,” Natasha said with a smirk on her lips from her seat across the table.

All four young women burst out laughing.

Maria leaned in to whisper in Nat’s ear. “Is it too soon to talk about adoption?”

“We may have a fight on our hands,” Nat whispered back.

“Okay, okay!” Kamala struggled to take back her moment. “This holiday has been wilder than even my imagination — and that’s saying a lot! You all have accepted me and made me feel included, which means the world to me. And this coming from the girl who flew in a quinjet with Iron Man and Doctor Strange!”

Now everyone at the table had erupted into hearty laughter. 

“Merry Christmas, kid.” Tony told her, his voice imbued with integrity. He felt a sharp jab to the ribs from Strange. “Ow! That hurt!” Strange gave him side eye, which Tony understood. “The pleasure was ours, Kamala.”

“You’re one of us now,” Bucky said from across the table, where he sat next to Nat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Kamala,” Maria assured her. “We newbies gotta stick together.”

“Can I get in on this newbie action?” M’Baku asked as Bucky and Nat shared a knowing grin.

“Uh, yeah!” Kamala said enthusiastically. Who was she to say no to the leader of the Jabari and friend to the Black Panther? Now she was friends with Maria Hill and M’Baku? What is this life?!

“Hey!” Cassie sounded offended. “What about me? I’m new!”

“Aren’t you a legacy?” Strange queried.

“Damn right, she is.” Clint said with a smirk. “Scott Lang is an Avenger, which means you ain’t new.”

Cassie pouted.

“Don’t forget Scott is dating Sam Wilson now, hon,” Laura reminded her husband.

“Ooh! Sucks to be you!” Clint teased.

“Oh, come on! That’s so not fair! I’m not responsible for who my dad dates!” Cassie threw her head back as Kate gave her a side hug.

As their children and their found family talked over each other, teased each other, and even bickered a little, Clint and Laura watched with joy in their hearts. This was going to be a Christmas to remember.

Especially if they couldn’t stop M’Baku from coming down their chimney after Cooper and Nate dared him.

At least Lila had the decency to look mortified. 

An hour later, Laura finished cleaning up after the meal and made her way into the living room where her family and friends had gravitated. The ordeal would have taken even longer if not for some much needed assistance from Thor, Bruce, Kamala, and Maria. Laura had felt guilty for taking them away from the fun, but her friends had made it clear this was non-negotiable. Her guilt had evaporated quickly after that.

Laura found Clint easily among the various clusters that had formed around the room. She believed she could find him in a crowd of a thousand with little hindrance. He was sitting on the floor by the lit fireplace with Bruce and Kate. The sight of them with Clint’s acoustic guitars made her heart tighten. It had been a while since she had last seen the instruments. Every time she saw one, Laura immediately thought about the night Clint serenaded her with a beautiful rendition of Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U” right before he proposed.

She fondly watched him and Bruce coach Kate on how to play; to her surprise, Bruce knew his way around a guitar. Intrigued, Laura drew close and joined their little conclave. Clint’s face lit up when she sat next to him.

“Bruce has been holding out on us,” he told his wife. Their friend blushed, accepting the compliment with a shy smile. “Kate’s a savant. She’s picking up the basics well for someone who’s never held an ax till now.”

“Brittany Howard has nothing to worry about,” Kate joked self-deprecatingly.

“I bet we can teach you the chorus of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ in an hour,” Bruce declared.

“Whoa! The pair on this one!” Laura teased as Clint barked out a laugh. She added sincerely, “Confidence looks good on you, Bruce.”

“My star can do anything he sets his mind to,” Thor said with pride from his position on the sectional, where he was talking with Bucky and M’Baku. 

Luckily, the chimney situation had been swiftly dealt with, much to Laura and Clint’s relief. Bucky had threatened to video the dare and send it to Okoye, general of the Wakandan army known as the Dora Milaje. She and M’Baku were frenemies who fought like children, exasperating T’Challa often. M’Baku was wise enough to take his love at his word and the matter was dropped.

Looking over to where the tree stood lit and decorated, Laura caught Strange talking with Kamala. She couldn’t hear what the pair were saying, except Kamala’s eyes were large and her mouth formed a small “O”, so whatever it was must be good.

“Sorry to take you away from your friends,” Strange had begun six seconds ago. “I just wanted a word in private.”

“It’s fine.” Kamala had no idea what the Doctor Strange could possibly want to tell her in private, but far be it for her to deny him. Was he going to suggest she go to Kamar Taj and train to become a sorcerer? That would be so cool! Wong could teach her and Strange could be her mentor! Okay, so Carol Danvers, aka Captain Marvel, was already her mentor, but who’s to say she couldn’t have a superhero mentor and a magic mentor? Two mentors were better than one, right?

“Besides, aren’t we all friends now?” The corner of her mouth lifted as hope shone in her brown eyes.

“Good point,” Strange replied with a grin of his own. “Basically, I just wanted to say I’m a huge fan of Ms. Marvel and the work you’ve been doing in Jersey City. And that, as a descendant of Aisha, you are welcome in the Sanctum Santorum anytime. I know you and Carol are close, but like you said, we’re all friends now. Also, Wong and I are rather curious about your powers.”

Kamala’s journey to becoming Ms. Marvel began when she came across her grandmother’s mystical bangles — the bracelets originally belonged to Aisha, an otherworldly being who came to this world and was Kamala’s great-grandmother. Her first big act of heroism came when she saved a classmate’s life at AvengerCon in her hometown of Jersey City while wearing the bangles. From there, Kamala learned to harness her powers and chose her superhero name after having a heart-to-heart with her father.

Holy crap! This is happening! Stay cool, Kamala. Oh, this is so much better than your fanfic!

She took a moment to take a breath, then said something that a year ago she never would have thought to say. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?”

Strange’s lips quirked, then he chuckled. “You and I are going to get along just fine.”

From her peripheral vision, Kamala then saw Laura watching them. She gave one of the coolest moms she had ever met a bright smile and waved. Then, she showed off the ugly Christmas sweater Lila had loaned her for the occasion.

Laura giggled and returned the wave. She decided to circle the living room while Clint and Bruce were busy teaching Kate. In one corner, Cassie was FaceTiming with her dad Scott and his boyfriend Sam. Though she kept her distance to give Cassie some privacy, Laura could hear as Scott told Sam to join the call instead of yelling out replies to whatever he happened to overhear. She smiled at how happy Scott and Sam sounded. Cassie caught her hovering, crossing her eyes as she tilted her head and let her tongue hang out the side of her mouth. At that, Laura burst out laughing; this made Cassie laugh, which had her dad encouraging her to turn her phone around so he and Sam could see what was happening.

Everyone called out to the couple and wished them a Merry Christmas. Laura avoided being caught on camera as Clint told Scott, “Miss you, buddy! Next year, you and Sam will be here. Bet on it. Right, hon?” 

She nodded with a grin. Scott and Sam were favorites of hers; it wasn’t the same celebrating Christmas without them, but having Cassie here was just as good. Cassie had become a second daughter to Laura — not even Cassie’s initial lack of enthusiasm about coming here could change that. Still, she was thrilled how quickly Cassie had warmed to the idea once she was in the farmhouse. The giant bear hug Cassie gave Laura as soon as she spotted the older woman was the best gift Laura could have asked for this holiday.

Cassie turned the phone back around so the screen was facing her and wrapped up the call. Continuing her turn about the room, Laura drifted over to the part of the sectional near Clint, Bruce, and Kate. Tony had flopped down next to Bucky, who had his head on M’Baku’s shoulder as the Wakandan held him close.

“I think you’re getting a daughter for Christmas, Tony,” Bucky sniggered.

“There are worse things,” Tony replied coolly. “Besides, we already have a son. Might as well have a matched set.”

Laura smacked him upside his head to Bucky and M’Baku’s delight. “Peter and Kamala aren’t luggage, Tony!”

“Ow!” He rubbed the back of his head gingerly, adjusting himself so he could look at her. “Take it down a few notches, momma bear. I love Peter with all my heart. And I know that Stephen is already smitten with the Marvel-ous Ms. Khan.” 

The corner of Tony’s mouth lifted as he thought of Peter Parker, who was Queens’ own friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and a sophomore at Empire State University. If the young man knew Kate, Cassie, or Kamala, he had never mentioned it to Tony. The thought of Peter meeting Kamala made Tony elated. 

“Mentoring the Spider lad has been one of the greatest privileges of my life. I think Stephen doing the same with Kamala is just what he needs. It will be good for both of them, actually. So long as Carol doesn’t get her knickers in a twist over having a co-mentor.”

“Carol will be fine,” Laura remarked.

“Yeah, you don’t have to worry about her,” Bucky agreed. “She came around to Kamala being her number one fan after seeing the shrine in her bedroom. Now look at them. They’re basically sisters.”

“You both make good points,” Tony said, scratching his goatee, “but it’s not always easy to share someone you love with someone else. No matter how good the intentions are.”

Laura understood what Tony really meant. “You’re worried Stephen is going to have his heart broken.” She squeezed his shoulder. “He’s not going to lose Kamala so easily. Look at her. This is one of the best days of her life.”

Kamala had the biggest smile on her face as she talked with Strange, who looked downright beatific himself. Tony had to admit he loved seeing how well those two seemed to vibe. He also wanted a chance to get to know Jersey City’s protector better. Carol wouldn’t shut up about the girl once you got her started. Anyone who had that effect on the former fighter pilot, who tended to work alone while defending the universe, was someone worth knowing in Tony’s estimation.

“Think I should cut in?” he wondered.

“Give the man a chance,” M’Baku chimed in. “It’s Christmas. Isn’t that what this holiday is about? Selflessness, kindness and togetherness?”

This was unexpected. Tony blinked once. Twice. Three times. “I honestly forgot you could talk.” Laura and Bucky groaned, while M’Baku took the teasing well. “But you make the most salient point of all, Fezzik. As you wish.”

Just then, Maria approached Laura to request a glass of water. Laura led her to the kitchen, spotting Yelena snuggling with her sister Natasha on the other end of the sectional opposite the fireplace. Her heart tightened when she recalled Nat telling her how she reconnected with her family after the fallout of Tony and Steve’s civil war, a period in which Laura preferred not to dwell. Nevertheless, Nat getting her baby sister back was the best thing to come out of those dark months.

“I like her,” Yelena whispered to Nat once Maria was out of earshot, her eyes on Kate’s guitar lesson with Bruce and Clint.

“Maria or Kate?” her sister teased.

She got pinched on her side for that comment. Nat giggled.

“Maria. Duh. You already know I love Kate. She’s my best friend, next to you.”

“I know, kitten.” Nat kissed the top of Yelena's head. “I like her, too.”

“Maria or Kate?” her sister tossed back.

“Touché.”

“You seem really happy. I’m glad Santa could get you what you wanted.”

Nat smiled softly. “Me, too. I was starting to think he wouldn’t come through.”

“Told you. He’s not just a nice old man with whiskers like mama said.”

“How many times have you watched Miracle on 34th Street this year?”

It was Yelena’s favorite Christmas movie and quite possibly her favorite movie period. Nat wasn’t big on sentimental Christmas movies, but that one had wiggled its way into her heart. She had always connected with Maureen O’Hara’s character while Yelena wanted to be best friends with Natalie Wood’s Susan.

“None!” her sister wailed. “It’s horrible! I need to see it before the year ends.”

With Yelena being away for the past seven weeks on assignment for S.H.I.E.L.D, it didn’t surprise Nat that there hadn’t been time for a Christmas tradition.

“How about you come back to D.C. with me on the twenty-sixth and we just have sister time? We’ll watch Miracle on 34th Street and whatever other movies we want. We’ll gorge ourselves on junk food, sleep in. It’ll be one big slumber party.”

Yelena bolted up right. She was trying not to get too excited, but she could barely contain her emotions. “You mean it? Just us?”

“Just us.” Nat tucked a strand of her sister’s blonde hair behind her ear. Yelena had pulled her hair back after dinner, claiming it was annoying her but a bit of it had escaped.

The younger woman worried her bottom lip. “Maybe we could invite Maria for New Year’s Eve. If you two promise not to be disgustingly in love the whole time.”

“I’ll run it by her,” Nat promised, hopeful that Maria would say yes. Ringing in the new year with two of her favorite people was exactly what she needed. “But no promises on not being disgustingly in love.”

“I think you got it,” Bruce announced as Laura entered the living room and Maria rejoined Nat and Yelena. “Shall we give it a go?”

Laura again sat on the floor next to Clint, who kissed her with a grin on his lips before turning his attention back to Bruce and Kate. “Come on, Kate,” Laura said. “Show us what you’ve learned.”

“You think?” Kate asked Bruce, then glanced at Clint. Both men nodded.

“Go for it,” Clint told her.

“Alright. Let’s do this.” She positioned her fingers on the neck of the guitar and did a test strum with her other hand.

“Everyone shut up!” Yelena bellowed. “The magnificent Kate Bishop wants to perform a Christmas song for us!”

Immediately, the room fell silent. All eyes were on a suddenly incredibly nervous Kate.

“You got this bestie!” Yelena yelled, earning a giggle of gratitude from her friend.

Kamala whooped and Cassie shouted, “Go, Kate!”

Tony smiled as Strange sat down next to him. They caught each other’s eye and held their look for a long moment.

“You okay?” Tony asked, squeezing his boyfriend’s knee affectionately.

“I’m good,” Strange replied, his voice strong as he lay his hand over the one Tony had on his knee. “I needed this.”

Looking over at Kamala on the far end of the sectional with Cassie, Yelena, Natasha, and Maria, Tony commented, “She seems like a pretty cool kid.”

“She is.” Strange glanced over at his protégé, then focused once more on Tony. “You want to introduce her to Peter.”

“I think it will be good for them. Two giant nerds bonding over nerd things. Can you imagine if Spider-Man and Ms. Marvel team up?”

“Calm down. They may not even like each other. Now shut up. We’re about to have a performance.”

“Should have left the plug up your ass,” Tony muttered low enough so only Strange could hear. He let out a strangled giggle as Strange put his hand on Tony’s thigh and emitted a soft wave of magic that went straight to his groin. To cover his arousal, Tony shouted, “You got this, Bruce! As do you, Kate!”

The pair chuckled at the encouragement. Clint and Laura met her gaze, and Kate felt all their love, too. She took a couple deep breaths, then began to play with Bruce in support. They sang “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” as Cassie recorded the impromptu concert on her phone for posterity, as well as for Kate’s parents.

Laura wrapped her arms around one of her husband’s, resting her chin on his shoulder while her eyes stayed on Kate. Clint rubbed her shin, tilting his head so it was against hers. As they held each other and listened to the performance, they thought about how tonight had made their year. This Christmas had turned out very merry indeed. Their home was filled with warmth and affection, of old friends and new. 

Everything was all in place.

Were those sleigh bells ringing outside in the distance? they wondered.

Just as Laura and Clint convinced themselves they were hearing things, they heard M’Baku whisper gleefully.

“The fat man.”