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November 1st
Unsurprisingly, Steve is the one to bring it up.
It was movie night and they had all gotten progressively comfortable as the evening ran long. So comfortable they had started teasing him, slightly, about his dated ideas regarding traditions. Steve knew their teasing was a sign of affection and not cruelty but his “dated-ness” was still a sore subject so there was only so much of it he could take.
“Well, people do still celebrate Christmas, don’t they?” he blurted out.
He hadn’t meant it as a serious question but was only seeking comfort in something he considered stable. Instead, he was met with silence. None of his teammates were quite sure how to answer his question. Yes, people still celebrated Christmas -- just not anyone in this room.
SHIELD members were usually on missions during holidays and therefore unable to enjoy any festivities of which they might partake. Being away from loved ones and in high-stress environment – in other words, working - can drain the fun out of any holiday respite.
Beyond that, neither Clint nor Natasha had any type of fond holiday memories from their pre-SHIELD days and, well, the less said about that, the better.
Bruce had been in hiding the past few holidays so, although he did have fond memories prior to the Hulk, his recent past made him too sad to bring them up.
Even Tony who could be counted on to attend a party or two (or three), would be hard-pressed to identify the last time he felt the actual Christmas spirit or partook of any tradition other than gift-giving and receiving. Even that was usually tasked out to Pepper.
Note to self, Tony thought. Buy something nice for Pepper and Bruce
In the end, it is Thor who breaks the ice.
“I am happy to say that I have now partaken of many Midgardian celebrations. However, I am unaware of this one you call Christmas. Please, tell me about it!”
“Well,” began Steve, “it’s a celebration where loved ones give each other gifts. There’s food, friends and family.” Slowly, as Steve continued his description, his voice took on a fond tone that caused the rest of the team to warm up to the discussion.
Little by little, they began to peel away the holiday for Thor. However, the more they spoke, the more there seemed to tell. First they described the various traditions – from Christmas trees to caroling, stockings to mistletoe. Of course this led to the topic of Santa which caused Thor to light up and declare,
“Oh! You mean the Allfather!”
”Dude,” responded Tony, “not everything is about your dad!” Thor ignored him.
“There was a time when the Allfather would visit Midgard, yearly, as part of a hunting party. He would tell us stories of children leaving Sleipner gifts of carrots and hay in their shoes. In gratitude, the Allfather would provide them with sweets, in return.”
Thor’s voice took on a wistful note.
“He used to love doing this. Sleipnir did not want for food, of course, but the Allfather found the children and their gifts lovely. However, the shoes left out for Sleipnir began to decrease until, one year, the Allfather was unable to find any shoes at all. I remember that was the last he joined in the hunt.”
The team sat in silence -- they had never seen Thor look so solemn. Before anyone could think on what to say, Thor’s face quickly shot back to beaming.
“It is wonderful to hear that this tradition has been rekindled by another. The Allfather will be happy to hear of it! Perhaps he will be able to help? After all, he only visited the people of the North and this man you call ‘Santa’ travels the entire of Midgard and I am sure will be glad for the offer!” Thor was so pleased no one, not even Tony, could bear to tell him the truth of the matter.
Instead, they began to speak of the origins of other traditions as well as the winter celebrations enjoyed by different cultures. In all, singing, lights, and the presence and appreciation of loved ones, were always involved.
As the night wore on, their reluctance to put the topic to rest was evident in their description of the different animated films which would come out every year. Unfortunately, or not, the lateness of the hour juxtaposed with the seriousness of the earlier conversation, made everything come out in a jumble. Descriptions became intertwined until it seemed Rudolph was guiding Santa towards the Star of Bethlehem with the Grinch high on their tail.
Eventually, it all came back to Santa and Clint and Tasha began an argument as to whether or not he was “creepy.”
“He’s a small, fat little man who breaks into your house, eats cookies, and leaves presents,” summarized Natasha. “I don’t trust it.”
“It’s strange,” answered Clint, “I’ll give you that. But a fat man crawling down a chimney – with a full, roaring fire no, less – and able to sneak around a house undetected? That’s James Bond stuff, Tasha! He has to get props for that!”
“Coulson, explain it to him!” demanded an exasperated Natasha.
“Sorry, Tasha, I’m with Barton on this,” answered Phil. Clint beamed at him while Natasha narrowed her eyes. Coulson’s eyes smiled at them both, as he bit back a laugh. An effort wasted when he let out a guffaw at Clint’s following questions,
“What I want to know is, does Rudolph just ride in the sleigh with Santa until they hit fog, or something? I mean, it’s got to be foggy somewhere, every year, right?”
In the end, Thor declared, “Brother Steve! If it is your wish, then we must celebrate this fine holiday!” And that was how it was decided that they would spend the holidays together (barring any world-saving tangents, of course).
As they all began to retire for the evening, both Thor and Steve smiled affectionately at their teammates. Thor, because he knew he would never stop loving these Midgardians. Steve, because he was relieved that some things truly did stay the same.
Before he went to bed that night, Tony had Jarvis queue up all of the holiday movies for team research purposes.
“All of them, Sir?” asked Jarvis. “There are over a thousand.”
“Well, only the good ones, Jarvis.”
“Ah! The classic ten, it is, Sir!”
December 24th
…Tiny tots, with their eyes all aglow, will find it hard to sleep tonight…
Nat King Cole’s voice provided the atmosphere for Tony as he stood prepping the bar. The party would not begin for another hour or so but he was abound with energy and so decided to make sure everything was in place and ready. Someone had to be the first guest, after all.
“Nice hat!” came an amused voice behind him. Tony turned to find Bruce leaning in the doorway, his smile growing bigger as he was able to take a look at the full outfit.
Tony wore a red Santa hat atop his head with Christmas lights spiraling their way to the top. Somewhat matching (but mostly clashing) was Tony’s sweater which was also red and sported a Christmas tree. His arc reactor gave light to the star above the tree, causing a type of halo.
“Well, that’s surprising,” said Bruce.
“What? It’s called the ugly Christmas sweater, Bruce. Everyone has at least one. It’s tradition.”
“No, no, the sweater I get. The hat…er…not so much.”
“Well, someone’s got to be Santa! That’s also tradition!”
Bruce crossed over and took Tony into his arms.
“I can’t believe it,” he said, incredulous. “Underneath my genius is an 80-year-old grandmother…”
Tony leaned back to give Bruce a dead-eye stare but then kissed him, anyway.
“Yes,” came a voice from behind them. “but at least he’s our 80-year-old grandmother.” They both turned to find Pepper holding a rather large black garment bag. Tony darted towards her and gave her a quick kiss before grabbing the bag and disappearing into the other room.
“I lug that thing all the way over here and that’s the thanks I get?” Pepper said, shaking her head. Bruce laughed and shook his head, crossing over to her. He gave her a lingering kiss and then leaned back.
“Better?” he asked.
“Hmm, you might have to try that again,” she said. Bruce did.
“How about now?” he asked.
“We’re getting there…” Bruce laughed.
“So, what was in the bag?”
“Nuh-uh-uh,” said Tony, reentering the room. “That is top secret!” He joined the embrace and enjoyed it for a few minutes before his energy got the better of him. “Ok, now help me set out the food!”
“What’s gotten into you, Tony?” asked Bruce. “Don’t you usually have people for this?”
Tony didn’t answer but he didn’t have to. This was the first time Tony would be enjoying a family Christmas party. Growing up, all Christmas parties had been Stark Industry Christmas parties. Even though his parents were present, they would be networking and he was expected to do the same. In fact, he had always done the same.
This time, though, was different. This time the food and drink and tree and presents were all for this dysfunctional little team that had been brought together and into his life. He didn’t have to impress or coerce them into deals and contracts. Instead, he could sit back and relax and just enjoy the evening.
As this thought caught up with him, his breath caught. Jogging back over to Pepper and Bruce, he brought them back into a tight hug and then, with a smile, jaunted over to start-up the toy train underneath the tree.
Pepper and Bruce met eyes and smiled.
“Sir,” came Jarvis’s voice. “Director Fury is in the elevator and on his way up.” Tony’s brows shot up.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said. “He’s actually coming to party!”
"Stark!" Fury barked in greeting as he stepped off of the elevator. He was dressed in his usual black leather long coat and sported a large bag which held several gifts.
Despite the gifts, Fury looked like the very antithesis of Father Christmas. He even sported his usual scowl.
"Merry Christmas, Grumpy Cat!" Tony said. "Here, let me show you where to put your coat."
The rest of the team began showing up shortly afterwards. Each of them brought gifts which were immediately placed beneath the tree. Natasha gave a weary eye towards the fireplace Tony had started.
"Stark, does this actually lead to the outside?" she asked.
"Of course!" he replied with a gleam in his eye. "I've also lit the landing strip on the balcony so Santa will know where to park!"
Natasha flipped him off while Thor clapped him on the back.
"That is very kind of you!" he said with a smile. Tony burst into laughter.
Their party wasn't loud or wild, but cozy. They settled in with their food and drinks and took turns conversing as a whole group and as much smaller ones.
Christmas music wafted over their heads and, every now and then, someone would pick up the song. Those who knew the words would join in. Thor shared some Asgardian songs of celebration, as well.
Only Natasha and Fury but even they could be caught tapping their toes.
Board games and playing cards were brought out and sometime between explaining the rules of the different games to Thor, Tony slipped out without anyone noticing.
"Go Fish" Natasha told Steve when, suddenly a large man in a red suit burst into the room with a sack full of toys.
"Ho-Ho! Merry Christmas!" he boomed. Less than a second later, his santa hat was affixed to the wall behind him with a knife. Tony, still wearing his beard was revealed as the man in the red suit.
Clint burst out laughing.
"Stark!" Natasha yelled and then cursed in Russian as she stomped towards the elevators.
"Who brings a weapon to a Christmas party?" asked Steve.
"Have you met Nat?" asked Clint as he and Phil pursued Natasha.
It took a little coaxing but Natasha eventually returned to the party, her game face on.
"I'm keeping the knife," Tony told her, having long since removed the red robe.
"Merry Christmas, Stark" she said before folding herself between Phil and Clint on the couch. Phil handed her hot chocolate and the three sat whispering to each other.
They agreed to wait until morning to open gifts but as the night wore on, they were less and less eager to retire to their own living spaces.
As they nodded off to the last of the music and the twinkling of the lights, Pepper came around with blankets and pillows.
Even Fury was grateful for it though he insisted on staying upright in his chair.
"I'm only going to close my eyes for a few minutes.
When he was sure everyone had dozed off, Steve got up and started making his rounds.
Thor had left his shoes out with carrots inside of them. Steve took these and scattered them on the balcony. In their place, he put a box of Pop-Tarts.
Someone else had left out milk and cookies which he dutifully ate and drank.
Last but not least, he brought out gifts wrapped in special paper. There was one for each teammate and they were all signed, "From, Santa.". He had even addressed one to himself, in case there were any questions.
As he retired once again by the fireplace, he looked at the sleeping faces of his new family.
"Yes," he thought, "people still celebrate Christmas."
And with that, he fell asleep.