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Natasha Alianova Romanova is many things. A “feelings person” is far from one of them. A holiday person? Again, decidedly not. The only proper holidays she’s ever had were tainted with the fact that it was all fake, manipulated, in Ohio. Oh well, at least Yelena enjoyed them in the moment. And sometimes it had been nice. But then the next day she’d always remember – once the food was eaten and the presents were opened and pictures taken, it was all gone.
In New York, her makeshift family has never noticed the fact that she rarely participates. Tony will celebrate with huge parties, but quietly give each of them a handmade gift. Hers is always a weapon. Bruce will make cookies he never says he makes but leave them out. He gives her oatmeal raisin ones, because she ate them once on a mission. She hates raisins. At least with Bruce if she said she didn’t like them he would just make her something different, but at this point eating cookies she hates is a tradition. Thor doesn’t do Christmas, he’s norse. He does Yule and burns a big log in the fireplace and tells stories and makes way too much food. At this point she likes Yule more than Christmas. Clint goes home to have Christmas with his family, and she goes for christmas morning and is back for christmas dinner with the team. Whatever that looks like. Steve, arguably the only practicing religious person among the original six(unless Thor counts? She’s not sure it counts if he’s already a god) gets a tree and goes to Christmas Eve Mass, returning with food chinese takeout. That’s a tradition between the two of them, partaken on his, more homey, floor of the tower.
Then there’s the new side. Sam always goes to Louisiana but comes back with food and out of season King Cake for New Years. Wanda celebrates on January Seventh, she’s Orthodox Christian, given as she’s from eastern europe. Natasha tries to take the younger girl under her wing – they make food and spend that day together watching bad movies. Peter Parker, the other one she takes especial care of, she celebrates for his sake these days. He grew up in a multi-religious household – Jewish by his mother and then his Aunt, non-religious Father and Uncle gave him christmas. The kid loves Christmas and Hanukkah, and throws himself into it. Honestly he brings the team together more than anything. She’ll watch Home Alone as much as he likes and help him string popcorn, and then whenever Hanukkah falls they’ll make Latkes and play dreidel and light a Menorah. She learned to make Challah bread when he first came to the tower.
But that was the thing. She didn’t do Christmas, it was the people around her. If she was being honest with herself, she never had really celebrated, in a way. At least not in a way she would count for herself
This year there’s a new addition.
One James Buchanan Barnes, Sgt(rt.) US Army, former Winter Soldier, and the closest to a kind man she’d met for most of her life.
And she likes him.
She really likes him.
They talk, a lot. James is sharing a floor with Steve, but he spends a lot of time on hers. They order takeout that James hasn’t had a chance to try and sit on the living room floor(the couch feels too formal) and just talk. They’ll laugh about stories of little Steve or commiserate about their trauma. They talk about everything. She’s safe with him even though she feels like she shouldn’t be.
It’s nothing against James, it’s a thing against men in general. She’s been hurt too much for that. But James is painfully respectful. He’s terrified to hurt anyone, and he saw firsthand in the Red Room where she gets her fear from. So, he gives her space.
It’s not until almost six months after he arrives that she touches him.
He’s heading back to Steve’s for bed and she’s in ridiculous Black Widow pajama pants Tony got her and a sweatshirt that Peter gave her for Hanukkah last year. She’s not sure why, but she pulls him into a tight hug.
“Be safe.”
“I will be.” His voice is soft, and she loves it. Low, and rich. His arms are snug but not trapping, and he smells like leather and the spices he loves to bake with.
“Yeah.”
She really is fucked.
-
Bucky watches a lot these days. In the forties, it would’ve felt easier. He was the social butterfly, always in the center of the crowd. But in this place, as whoever he is now.. he prefers to be watching. He notices all the same things as Natalia about the dynamics of the team.
Especially about her, how the redhead fits in. How she clearly isn’t a fan of the holidays but smiles through them, how she's hard to read and no one but Barton really sees her. He tries too, but he hasn’t known her for the two plus decades the archer has. Besides, it’s not a competition. She deserves people who care.
He can see how she takes care of the two teens, letting them closer to her on movie nights than she lets anyone else. Wanda doesn’t like most of anyone after the raft. Especially the men. Half the time she sits more or less on Natalia’s lap, curled up. He doesn’t blame her. Sometimes she seeks him out, if Natalia is nearby. It means a lot. Peter is anxious and hides it in some ways by making it just seem chaotic. He clings to Stark and Natalia like liferafts. He speaks Yiddish fluently and can read Hebrew.
It’s not until one of those late nights in Natalia’s apartment that he finds out why.
“I spent three years of my life on a mission in Ohio as a ‘normal’ suburban family,” she admits to him, taking a sip of the wine she’s drinking. “I was the only kid who knew it was all fake and I would love it and then as soon as it was over I’d go and cry because it wasn’t real. Traumatized the shit out of me with the emotional whiplash. I still hate the whole thing. Besides, I’m not really into the whole emotional thing.”
He pauses. “You celebrate with Wanda and Peter, though,” he points out, more as a question than anything
“Yeah.” She takes a long drink. “Just cause I’m fucked up doesn’t mean those kids have to be.”
Bucky pauses. No one ever gives her credit for her heart. Then he shifts to be shoulder to shoulder with her, wrapping an arm around her waist timidly. “You’re too good for everyone here,” he mumbles.
“No, they’re too good for me.” She fidgets for a moment. “You know what I’ve done, James.”
She’s the only one to ever call him that, just like how only he calls her Natalia. It makes him shiver quietly, the way he does when she touches him. They knew each other years before they met freely. Those were the names. It’s quiet, but it says something about a bond the others don’t know too much about. Barton probably knows, he thinks. Steve does, too.
“No,” he objects softly. “It’s you who is far too good for me.”
He’s in love with her. It’s three days later and he’s finally working it out after Natalia kissed his cheek before she left for a mission with Wanda to train in Wakanda. And he almost says I love you.
As he walks away from the bay where they left, Steve comes up behind him.
“So, you’re in love with her, right?”
Bucky whips around.
“Fuck- where did you- what? No!”
Stark is on the other side of him, rolling his eyes.
“Who are you kidding, Robo-man? You’ve been making moony eyes at her since you arrived. She invites you over. If I didn’t know better I’d guess you were fucking”
“Stark!”
“Tony!”
“What?” Tony shrugs. “Look, go get her. She’s a catch and way too good for any of us. Go get her and treat her right.”
Bucky glares, but he honestly wishes he was brave enough
“And what? Chase her to Wakanda and get kicked in on my ass?”
“No, obviously not.” Stark’s been replaced by Barton. The man Natalia calls her brother from another mother. “You’re gonna prep something to surprise her when she gets home and tell her how you feel. Because between us,” he glares at Steve to make sure he shuts up, “she’s been trying to figure out if you feel the same. Which by the way, when she first got here she spent months terrified you’d be punished for her.”
Holy shit…
Natalia Romanov… likes him?
“She- she did?”
“Oh yeah. I say, make her a surprise of some sort you know she’ll like.”
“That she’ll like…” hm. He can do that. Maybe…
Over the next two days before Christmas Eve when he returns, he’s hard at work. Decorating Natalia’s apartment for the holiday. Not too over the top, but enough to start replacing some memories. There’s a tree now, lit and decorated, with some presents underneath. Toys for Liho, a few books, a film camera that made him think of her. And one of his sweatshirts, since she steals it at every opportunity. The kitchen has the makings for chocolate chip and sugar cookies, and he put a wreath on the door. Grabbed some Christmas CDs at the local thrift store for the old CD player she still insists on using – reminds her of the one her “ma” bought for her when she was a kid. Stark leaves some DVDs of christmas movies, and he insisted on funding the whole thing.
Actually, most of the residents have, in some way.
Pepper – the only one he really calls by first name since she just didn’t tell him her last one for a month – helps him find Natalia’s clothing sizes. Stark funds the whole thing and Stevie helps with the tree. Barton goes with him to add a few gifts – and brings from some his mysterious family. His wife labels a few from St. Nick, and contributes the ornaments and crafts the kids have made for their Auntie Nat over the years.
Banner gives him some fancy tea, says to have it for when she gets home, she usually drinks it after missions.
-
And when Natasha gets home, she’s not greeted to the usual empty house she’s accustomed to. James is waiting for her by the fireplace, which is burning merrily, reading a book with Liho purring loudly in his lap. The whole place has been decorated – she assumed the wreath on the door was one of Stark’s efforts to make everyone’s doors fancy, but she has a tree, apparently, and it's been decorated, down to ornaments from her nieces and nephews. There’s gifts under it. Her tea is steeping.
“James?”
The man in question looks up, smiling a bit. It’s that smile, the one she can’t get enough of but hardly sees sometimes.
“Talia?” A nickname. She’s not sure she can- nope, there’s her pulse.
“What’s all this? Did you do this?”
That makes him chuckle as he stands up, Liho wandering off.
“Yeah, uh… Merry Christmas. I was thinking, um… we could make some new memories. Out with the old, in with the new, and all that”
“Isn’t that New Years?” She steps in further, looking around in wonder
“Maybe?” He scratches his head bashfully. “Sorry if it was-”
She moves then, until she’s standing close enough for him to be able to feel her breath on his neck. She’s not thinking, but for once she’s never been more sure of anything as she grabs his face with a hurried tenderness, kissing him soundly as she rises on tiptoe. “It’s not too much.”
“It’s- it’s not?” She seems to have short-circuited him, and he seems shell shocked, but his hands are automatically holding her waist.
“No, James… no, it’s not.” Natasha looks up, examining his face. “Was… was this?”
He pauses, clearly assessing himself. Then his head shakes.
“No, no this isn’t too much… just was scared you didn’t feel the same, doll.”
Doll . It’s such a sweet, old-fashioned nickname and it makes her smile stupidly
“How couldn’t I?”
“I don’t know,” he admits, blushing. “I guess I’ve made the point you’re way too good for me pretty damn well..”
“You have, or tried to anyways,” she laughs a bit, kissing his cheek. “Good for you, I’m not much of a listener.”
“And I love you for it.”
“I love you for it, too.”
“Shit, uh.. I totally just said that, didn’t I.”
That makes her laugh again, looping her arms around his neck.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”
“If that’s what you want, Talia? I will until I can’t breathe and then some.”
The next morning, she wakes up in her bed, wrapped in strong arms. She panics for a moment, before she notices the scent and the way she’s being held. James is laying with her, face buried in her neck. And despite what Tony would probably tease about, they’re both fully clothed. Neither of them ready for that step yet, and that’s just fine.
Was it all a dream? No, it can’t have been…
Silently, she slips out of his arms and pads out into the living room. It’s all like it was the night before, other than the fact that they put out the fire.
Shimmering tree, cookies they baked cooling on the counter, gifts waiting.
Liho begs for breakfast as always, so she goes to oblige. Just as she’s finishing setting out the food, Bucky hugs her from behind, kissing her cheek.
“Good morning, my love,” he murmurs sweetly. She blushes instantly, melting into his arms.
“Good morning, Detka((baby)),” she replies softly, reaching up a hand into her hair.
“Merry christmas,” he smiles, leaning down to leave a few sweet kisses on her neck. Oddly, its not possessive or sexual, it’s purely a sweet gesture that makes her giggle – giggle! – as he twirls her around. “C’mon, let’s open your gifts.”
“I feel bad,” she points out with a playful pout. “You don’t have any gifts”
“I think Stevie left a few for me down here. And anyway, I don’t like getting stuff, I wanted to treat my girl.”
“Your girl?”
“If you want to be” he blushes as they stand their, holding her face gently
“If you’ll be my man,” she smirks playfully, pecking his cheek
“I’d love to be,” he answers instantly, scooping her up and making her squeal as she’s carried to the living room and set down by the tree, wrapped in a blanket by the now warm fire as he hands her the first gift.
-
Just like he’d hoped, Natalia loves all her gifts, laughing carefreely and enjoying each one, blushing at the attention when he pulls her into his lap to hold her tight while she does, leaving loving kisses on every inch of available skin. He’s got a few – Wanda made a box of some sort of marshmallow fudge which is absurdly sweet and therefore amazing, hardcover copies of The Hobbit plus Lord of the Rings from Steve, and surprisingly a warm sweater from Barton’s wife, saying to come visit. And from Natasha a beautiful journal, which is instantly his most precious possession.
The rest of the day is spent lazily curled together on the couch, Natalia resting on his chest while they watch movies and he braids her hair. She’s wearing the sweatshirt he gave her, and he has to admit he loves how she looks in his clothes. Okay, maybe he’s a bit possessive.
“Hey love?” He kisses her hair softly, hugging her a bit closer as they watch a Muppet version of Charles Dickens – played by either a crow or, um… a purple seagull? – explain the meaning of christmas to a very hungry rat with no sense of what’s happening.
“Yes, moy lyubov?((my love?))” She looks up and rolls over, tucking herself into his chest, smiling sleepily.
“Do.. are you okay with people knowing?”
“About us?”
“Yeah, um.” Bucky can’t fathom a world where she’d honestly want to be known to be dating someone like him. For one, the public still sees him as a War Criminal and the one who killed Howard Stark(technically, he’s both. Luckily, a good case was made of him being equally a victim. He has a feeling Stark Money helped, too)
“Baby..” she softens, and he’s bracing for a rejection, when she kisses him sweetly. “I would shout it from the rooftops if you asked. I love you, James, more than anything in the world. I want everyone to know, if you’re comfortable with it”
He blushes softly. “I am, I want everyone to know I love you,” he admits softly.
“Then they all will”