Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everyone is under the impression that Santa Claus works at the North Pole. Or that Santa Claus is some intrinsically good and eternal being. Bullshit on both accounts.

First of all, it's definitely not the same guy for hundreds of years. How creepy would that be? I mean, sure, there's this guy who is pretty old, but he's also from another planet, realm, whatever and he's the one who gave the Santa family their whole Santa Claus magic in the first place. And, okay, it's entirely possible the Santa family lives longer than average, but…

Wait, what was the point being made here again?

Oh, right. Santa does not work at the North Pole. There's literally nothing there. Thor the Asgardian might have given them magic, but not the kind of magic that creates a random land mass where there isn't one. He just gave them the magic to bend time and space and all that fun stuff.

And, you know, intelligence might have been a magical gift too because, seriously, to be Santa you have to be smart. Kids these days want the good stuff. Also, can I just say micromanaging a company large enough to mass produce that many toys for just a single night… that's probably some magical gift because it's it's a lot of work and it's not like there are actual elves that do all the work just for Santa to get all the glory.

I mean, think about it. One, the stories about the elves is like borderline slavery and, two, there's no way the entire Earth's population of elves lives at the North Pole – which, again, isn't a thing – so that nobody ever has seen an elf.

Of course, there is Clint Barton; he's practically an elf of The Lord of the Rings variety. And Natasha's pretty spritely on her feet. Pepper is cute like an elf, unless you mean that in a demeaning way because then it turns scary and quick. And, sure, there are lots of other minions and robots and other things that are technically like helpers, but they're actually employees and not literal elves. They have to get paid, you have to cover dental (Hermey, though not an elf, was definitely real and he was a lobbyist for worker benefits), you have to sign them to a life time Non-Disclosure contract to never reveal the secret complete with the memory erasure clause that states upon resignation, retirement or at the discretion of the company, an employee will have his or her memories selectively removed and replaced telepathically… Uh, yeah, which really isn't ethical at all, but you know. These things happen from time to time. They're working on better alternatives, I promise.

There are essentially a whole lot of cogs and gears that keep Stark Industries running. Yeah, Stark Industries. 

Most of the world thinks of Stark Industries as the leading pioneer in innovation. That's great. It's entirely not inaccurate since, yeah, when they're not making toys for good little boys and girls, they're definitely making toys for the adults and obviously they're into making the world a better place because if not there goes their livelihood – and Santa is supposed to be altruistic in general or something like that; it goes without saying. But while most of the people think Stark Industries is a progressive organization in the field of science and technology, with a big ugly building in New York (depending on who you ask), and lots and lots of money and scientists on board, again all true, behind all of that is a group of carefully selected employees all working to make Christmas magical for the world.

The company manual refers to that coveted elite part of the company, residing on the top ten floors of Stark Tower before you hit the penthouse, as R&D – research and development, basically Candyland. In fact, it's really Toyland. Sure, it's still technically research and development, just of toys. And everyone jokingly refers to it as Reindeer & Delivery even though reindeer haven't been used since the fifties.

Oh and let's not forget about SHIELD. SHIELD, on the outside, is your typical government agency tasked with making the world a better place through protection which goes hand in hand nicely with what Stark Industries is supposed to be about. Right? SHIELD is supposed to stand for Strategic Homeland Intelli… Oh hell, never mind. It's a mouthful. It was easier when it was SSR. But what SHIELD really stands for is Santa's Headquarters for Intelligence on Every Little Deed. Yeah, that's right. Santa still sees you when you're… well, not sleeping. That's pretty much somnophilia without the sexual undertone and also seriously creepy. They definitely don't do that. But the whole naughty or nice thing still stands and SHIELD is there to collect that data. For the outside world it's basically government-run big brother, but secretly it's big brother for children everywhere. Okay, maybe it's still a little creepy.

The point I'm trying to make here is being Santa is exhausting. Who would want that kind of responsibility? Who would want to give up the carefree image of genius billionaire playboy just for the sake of giving toys to kids one night a year and having misinterpretations of your identity plastered everywhere in New York between November 1^st and December 26^th – and occasionally in July?

Now, I know what you're thinking. It's one thing to question the official story and another thing entirely to make wild accusations or insinuate that Tony Stark is Santa Claus, but the truth is… deep down… where the spirit of Christmas lives…

You already know who I am.

Chapter Text

Tony stands in his father's larger than life office that all but takes up an entire floor of Stark Tower. It's rich and warm and not at all modern like a high rise office should be, like some of the ones downstairs are. It's a little like the main floor of the penthouse. It's cozy and comfortable – it feels Christmas-y somehow – and it's not that Tony hates that, he really doesn't, but he also likes sleek and new and streamlined. Also, he's not sure how anyone can take one look at this office and think, Nope. Nothing weird going on here. Then again maybe some people are a little old fashioned and at least the décor isn't Christmas-themed 24/7 like it is elsewhere in the building.

Seriously, there's a Christmas tree on the main floor of the penthouse all. year. long. There's also one on every floor of R&D. There's also one on the party deck. There's even trees in the recreational areas and dining hall. Tony quite literally has to go down and mingle with the non-elite scientists in order to get away from Christmas trees between January and November. And his father wonders why he prefers to spend time at their vacation home in Malibu, overseeing their L.A. branch which is only part of their Stark Industries cover and has absolutely nothing to do with the family business.

The family business of being Santa Claus.

The family business his father wants him to take over.

Tony stands there with his runaway thoughts and a good deal of contempt at the notion, mouth agape, before he finally blurts, "What do you mean you're retiring?"

"Just what it sounds like, Tony," Howard says to him evenly. "I want to relax. Your mother wants to relax." That's fair enough, Tony figures. Howard Stark is in his early 90s, even if he is still spry enough for his age thanks to 'Santa magic' extending their natural lives. Retirement makes sense, but Tony would rather it didn't. "I'm not young anymore, Tony and I want to enjoy my life as my own again for a while." His father fixes him with a small glare and then rises to his feet. "And you're more than old enough to stop with the rebellious twenty-something routine, Tony. You're closer to forty than thirty now. Isn't it time you settle down?"

"You didn't take over until you were forty," Tony points out.

"I remember what it was like," Howard says turning to the large open window. Tony rolls his eyes and his head falls back on his shoulders; he feels ignored as usual. "I was just as stubborn and flippant as you are once upon a time. But, I promise you, once you stop fighting this, you'll realize all of that was just meaningless," he says with a wave of his hand.

Tony of course knows what his father is referring to. Supposedly once you actually step into the suit, your perspective starts to change whether you like it or not. It seems kind of non-consensual. Sure, it's not exactly kosher spying on kids to judge whether or not they deserve toys or coal – not that they do the coal thing anymore because of some progressive changes to their philosophies and all that – but he'd much rather not have his identity stripped away from him just because he has a new job he didn't sign up for.

His cousin Steve argues that it has nothing to do with the suit because there was that one Santa that nobody talks about because, well, it wasn't good, and that it has to do with something inside that the suit just more or less triggers. Of course Steve would say that. His younger cousin is probably way more suited to being Santa then he'll ever be; he's pretty certain his dad thinks so too.

"You already have Christmas spirit in your heart, Tony," Pepper, his secretary, had even said to him once while the three of them were having the conversation for the millionth time. "I just think you ignore it." Maybe that was true, but he felt like a reluctant prince or something so who could blame him? Then she'd gone and ruined the moment by saying, "It's probably because you've never been in love and everyone knows that love is where the spirit of Christmas originates."

And that was just too saccharine for his taste, just like candy canes. Tony loves people, love kids, all that jazz that falls in line with the whole Santa rhetoric. And sure, when he's being honest with himself he'd be the first to admit he's lonely. But falling in love? He's dated around (and okay maybe that's a loose definition) enough by now to know the chances of that happening are slimmer than a heart growing three sizes in one day (and the person living to tell the tale). Because nobody seems to understand him. Nobody speaks his language.

Sometimes when he was younger he would muse about what it would mean if he never found the proverbial Mrs. Claus or had an heir. Would the line pass to Steve's family? Or was he contractually obligated to marry someone against his will and have a kid against his will too? Or were there rules in place for designating an heir, like through adoption? Hell, what if he fell in love with a man since he wasn't disinclined to the idea? Would the adoption thing still stand? Or was Santa required to be hetero?  Wait, what if Santa only had a daughter, then what? For some reason there had been no helpful classes at The Academy that detailed the minute details of how Santa was supposed to handle his personal life and his father hadn't been much help either. Hell, if there were classes that told them how to be good at life on top of being good at Santa maybe his father would have been a better parent and made more time for him than the other 2 billion children-

"Tony, stop daydreaming and listen to what I have to say," Howard says harshly, because Santa can still be a dick sometimes in spite of the whole Christmas spirit thing making his life 'more fulfilling' - Rudolph had not gotten that aspect wrong at all. Tony shakes his head and focuses his attention back on his father.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "Was just thinking about the job. Honestly, I don't know if I'm ready. I... I don't want to be the Santa that single-handedly screws up Christmas." He means that.

The older Stark sighs. "Look. This is happening whether you like it or not. After this Christmas, I'm retiring. But you're not going to screw up Christmas. You can give it your best shot," he teases and Tony smiles, feeling a touch of the warmth that he wishes was always there between them rather than the cold distance. "But we've built a well-oiled empire over the years for a reason, Tony. Others are there to keep you from screwing it up. You'll have Nick's assistance and Phil's. And when it's all said and done I'm sure you'll be ready for your first delivery this time next year."

"Fine," Tony grouses in no mood to argue. He always knew this day was coming and unless he abdicates, again like a reluctant prince, he knows he has no choice.

"Tony," Howard says as he turns to leave. Tony stops to hear what he might have to say. "I know it's hard to understand now. But I do believe you can do this. There are a lot of children out there, but the one that has always meant the most to me is you."

Tony furrows his brow and turns to look at him for a moment. He wants to believe his dad means that. But because he's never really gotten to know his dad very well, he's not always sure when it's his dad who's speaking, when it's Howard Stark the Stark Industries visionary, or when it's Santa Claus.

"Thanks, dad," he says just the same and hopes he's right about his being able to do this at least. Tony's still not convinced.

❄

Tony walks into the cafeteria looking for some eggnog. Yes, he still gets all of the usual cravings associated with Christmas, like for eggnog and hot cocoa and cookies and all that fun stuff, but it's not an exclusive love. And there's nothing in the handbook that says Santa has to be a teetotaler, a prude, vegan, happy all the time or anything else, all of which is great because he's none of those things and won't pretend he is. Sitting at a nearby table is Steve, Clint, Natasha and Thor. They're all in conversation about something as they snack on some cookies (it's probably a miracle they're all not as fat as the assumptions made about Santa).

Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff are their in-house SHIELD liaisons and delivery night specialists so they hang out a lot around this time of year, sifting through the data SHIELD mines for the annual operation, tweaking the operation on an almost daily basis, and preparing the Stark side of things for the night of the operation itself. Steve Rogers, his cousin, being second-in-line so to speak, oversees the partnership as the Stark Industries liaison so where they go he goes more or less. As for Thor, well, he usually doesn't drop by so early in the season so Tony guesses he must be there visiting his mortal girlfriend Dr. Jane Foster, who happens to be one of their elite employees (privileged to be a member of the inner-Santa-sanctum as Tony calls it).

Tony grabs his eggnog from the machine and decides it needs to be something a little harder so he walks over to the alcohol cabinet in the corner. It's locked with a code that only the Santa family, including Steve, have so that they have the say on who gets alcohol and when. That's perfectly fine with Tony as he spikes his eggnog with some Scotch; Santa doesn't have to be that altruistic and it's not like he doesn't share with his closest colleagues.

Tony snags a cookie of his own before joining said colleagues. "Hey, Thor. Tell your frost giant of a brother to knock it off already or I'm moving this whole establishment to L.A," he says as greeting.

"I fully support that business move," Clint chimes in.

"Because you're just as much a wimp as he is," Natasha intones, nodding her head toward Tony.

"You only say that because you're Russian," Clint counters.

"I'm truly sorry about the weather," Thor finally speaks up. "But I'm afraid Loki has full reign over this part of your planet during the winter months."

"Although sometimes he likes to get started a little early and go for too damn long," Tony points out in complaint.

Thor smiles fondly and nods. "Yes, Loki is nothing if not mischievous." Tony gulps his eggnog and narrows his eyes at that. He's met the guy and his first instinct had been not to trust the other demigod. Something about him seems a little more malevolent than mischievous.

"So rumor has it you'll be suiting up next year," Natasha says with zero segue and Tony practically chokes on his drink. He has a sneaking suspicion she picked that moment on purpose. As he pulls the mug away and wipes off his mouth he can also see the way Steve has tensed up beside her.

"And by that you mean SHIELD is misusing tech to spy on even the Starks, is that it?" he asks with a grumble, but she just slowly rolls her eyes as if even that flippant gesture is beyond what he deserves as far as effort from her is concerned.

"You're in the system like everyone else, Tony," Steve responds for her. "I am, your dad is, we all are. It's just how it goes. You know SHIELD also works as a government intelligence agency as a cover and it takes its job very seriously as that the same way you do with the tech side of SI. Just because you're going to be Santa doesn't mean you can't be a threat. Remember our great-great-great-great grandfather?"

"Shh," Tony hisses melodramatically. "We're not supposed to speak of him."

"Be serious, Tony," Steve admonishes, unable to take his joke. Sometimes they get along, but it seems like this time of year it's a lost cause. "This is a huge responsibility. You only have a year to get ready because you've spent all your time partying and pretending to be somebody you're not."

"Who says I'm pretending?" Tony balks as he avoids his cousin's stern gaze and looks around at the various other employees who are on break.

He sometimes wonders why he elects to hang out with this group so much. It's not like he's close with any of them. Then again, it's not like he has a whole lot of options.

He's close with Pepper, but during working hours she's angrier and scarier than usual, which is probably a little bit his fault for making her life more difficult than he should. Then he has a best friend, Colonel James Rhodes. But he's always off busy being, well, a military colonel - in addition to his contract with SHIELD which is really his secretly helping them to keep things under wraps on delivery nights. There's also his driver, Happy Hogan. They're kind of close in a weird way. Maybe because he's also his semi-body guard on casual occasions so he has to trust the guy. It's more than he can say for the body guard designated for keeping Santa safe at more major public appearances: code name Winter Soldier because somebody thought that would be hilarious back in the day.

And, you know, it's not even like Tony doesn't want to be closer with this group too. They've been around for a while now. Obviously Steve's family so he's almost always been there and Thor's been hanging around because he's their immortal patron or whatever. He met Barton and Romanoff at The Academy, Natasha before she knew his secret and Clint shortly after he'd learned. And it's not like he wouldn't be seriously upset if somebody messed with them. They're kind of all like family in that sense. You don't choose them or always get along with them, but-

"Tony's thoughts are wandering again," Natasha says knowingly and her face comes into focus as he blinks.

"Yeah, seriously, Tony's going to be the most absentminded Santa ever," Clint adds with a laugh. "I can just picture it. He'll start thinking long and hard about some equation or bot he's working on or how much he hates Reed Richards and next thing you know, three whole countries worth of kids will be completely overlooked."

Steve frowns at the imagined scenario. On the contrary, Natasha snorts.

"Yeah," she agrees, "and then SHIELD will have to send in stealth agents for damage control."

"Like the Christmas of '74 when somebody," Clint shoots a pointed look at Thor, "spiked Santa's hot cocoa thinking a little Asgardian mead would give him the extra spirit he needed to help him power through his tiny cold." Thor looks down in obvious embarrassment.

"Wait, I thought that was just an urban legend made up at The Academy." Steve looks around in confusion.

"Alas, it is not," Thor says with a solemn shake of his head.

"And now I'm picturing an even more terrifying scenario where Tony installs a mini bar in the sleigh," Clint says then.

"I hadn't thought of that," Tony confesses. Well, he's thought about changing the sleigh because there are so many things wrong with it at this point, but not adding a bar. "Thanks for the suggestion though," he then says with a Cheshire grin.

"Good job, Clint," Steve mutters then gives Tony another hard look. "Tony, you really should take this seriously. It's a centuries old tradition and—"

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard the speech before, Steve. I took Santa 101 at The Academy like the rest of you did after you were given tickets to board the crazy train." He'd slept through most of it, but that's a moot point. "And then there was Advanced Santa Physics. And Advanced Santa Subterfuge. And, you know what, I don't have to sit here and listen to this. I'm out," Tony says in annoyance as he stands to his feet, not even bothering to take his mug back to the cleaning rack.

"We know you're out," Clint calls after him in that tone of voice that tells Tony the SHIELD liaison thinks he's hilarious. "Were you ever actually in?"

Tony rolls his eyes and turns back to look at him. "I would be if you were the only guy left on Earth, Barton," he says and gives him a condescending smile before turning again, the sound of Thor's laughter nearly drowning out Natasha's behind him. He can practically feel Steve's scowl, as if he can talk.

He sees the wide eyes of a few newer elite employees before they have time to check their reaction and he snorts to himself. Yeah, everybody probably just expects Santa Claus to be hetero.

❄

Tony doesn't interrupt Dr. Yinsen as he finishes patching up one of the staff. The poor guy had apparently injured himself while working on a new piece of circuitry for one of those obnoxious talking toys that's sure to be a hot seller. Next year, that is. They're always ahead of the curve developing toys a year in advance and then sending those prototypes to their employees working undercover at real toy companies. Tony often muses that James Bond has nothing on the full scale spy ring it takes to make Christmas happen in this day and age.

He doesn't interrupt Dr. Yinsen because he's one of the few men he truly, wholeheartedly respects. He's not what he'd call a best friend or contemporary he'd like to hang out with all the time, but he's certainly a mentor. He's both a wonderful medical doctor and good engineer. And he's willing to listen to Tony when he's frustrated. He's maybe the only one in the building willing to hear him out even if he doesn't agree.

"Thank you for waiting patiently," the Gulmiran man says kindly as he lets Tony in to his office. They bypass his examination room and head into his personal workshop. "I hear I'm not the only one retiring," he says without ceremony as he sits down in his computer chair and motions for Tony to take a seat somewhere.

Tony's heart sinks a little and he opts to lean against one of the work benches instead. "I wish you wouldn't," he says honestly, crossing his arms. The man is only in his early 50s, but Tony knows it's really age that's taking his mentor away.

"I know," Yinsen says. "But I wish to see my home again and then travel Europe while I'm still spry enough. We can't all live to be as old as the Santa family," he adds with a chuckle. Then after a pregnant pause and small smile he says, "My family is already waiting for me overseas. I will miss my friends here. And I will miss you, but trust that I believe in what you're going to accomplish soon."

Tony sighs and lets his arms fall. "Thank you for that," because when Yinsen says it, he knows he means it, "but let's not kid ourselves, Yinsen. I'm not going to be any good at this. And anything good that I do accomplish will probably just be the suit, not me."

"You really believe that, don't you?" Yinsen looks at him in a calculating manner as if Tony's words hadn't been as clear as day.

"Why shouldn't I?" Tony raises his hands and then drops them back down with a slap to his thighs. "I don't get this whole," he gestures to everything, "thing. Everybody thinks being Santa is some privilege. They seem to think I should be cheering and singing Christmas carols until my face turns blue. Instead I'm just a regular old Ebenezer or maybe even a Grinch, I don't know. I mean, my idea of Christmas cheer is wanting to say Ho Ho Ho Yinsen every time I see you," he admits. He has a proficiency when it comes to Christmas references and clever nicknames, but that hardly counts.

Still, Yinsen laughs. "I can understand the temptation," he indulges him. When he sobers again he says, "I think the problem is you're focusing too much on who Santa is and not what Santa stands for."

"I know. I know. You've said it before. As Santa I can have everything," Tony sighs, "and still have nothing. Yeah, I get that. In theory. But I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with it because I'm not you. And I'm not my father. And I'm not Steve. I'm just…" He shakes his head and turns around to look down at the work bench. He picks up a screwdriver like it's second nature. "To the outside world, I'm great. I'm a genius. I'm wealthy. I'm beloved. I'm a regular celebrity." He turns with tool still in hand and looks pointedly at Yinsen. "I put on that suit and it changes. Suddenly it's a... terrible privilege and I don't know if I'm ready for that." He squeezes the screwdriver in frustration as he hangs his head. "I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that."

Silence hangs in the air around them. Tony isn't sure what else can be said, but he certainly isn't expecting the response that Yinsen gives him.

"Maybe not," the doctor says. "We're not always ready for a lot of things. But they happen and we have a choice when they do." Yinsen pauses and Tony glances back at him intently, listening for whatever else his mentor might say. Yinsen listens to him, so he gives him the same respect. "Yes, you have been given a terrible privilege. But if you're so concerned then maybe you should stop worrying about what your legacy as Santa will be and focus on Tony Stark. Because that is still who you are and I know that if you are true to yourself, you will be a good Santa. Not perfect perhaps, but one that matters. That is what Santa stands for."

Tony lets it all sink in and mingle with the other wisdom he's gained from him over the years. He knows that when Yinsen leaves, he won't remember him like this. When he retires, his memories will be altered so that he'll remember working for Stark Industries, not Santa. He'll remember Tony Stark fondly, he hopes, but he won't remember anything to do with the specifics of their many shared conversations. That hurts Tony a lot more than most things ever have.

As if reading the melancholy Tony can't really keep from showing, and guessing the cause, Yinsen speaks again. "As your friend, I have one request."

"Anything," Tony says instinctively.

"Please, do not waste your life," he says simply. Tony opens his mouth to respond, but Yinsen continues. "I will not remember you as Santa as you know, but I will remember you as the great Tony Stark. And that is no little thing. I will want to know that you are finally doing well. So I ask you not to waste your life."

Chapter Text

"Welcome back, Mr. Stark." Phil Coulson is waiting for him as soon as he is out of the helicopter.

Tony doesn't bother to remove his sunglasses or shake Coulson's hand. Then again, the man has his hands folded in front of him so he's pretty sure he doesn't expect him to anyway.

"I thought Santa gets three months of vacation," Tony says with hands buried deep in his pockets and feet itching to turn back around and get on his helicopter.

"You're not officially Santa until you put on the suit," Coulson replies evenly. "Which will happen, I'm sure. But you have a lot of intensive training ahead of you. The kind that can't wait an extra two months. So I hope you enjoyed your vacation, Mr. Stark. This time next year, with any luck, you'll have earned that extra time."

"Alright, let's get this Christmas party started I guess," Tony says with a sour expression and begins walking toward the hangar.

The only thing in the hangar is two jets property of SHIELD for transportation on delivery night, when the command center is a literal floating fortress in the sky called the Helicarrier and not otherwise accessible, or when they need to come and go between Stark Industries and the other organization's various outposts. Mostly Clint, Natasha and Steve use them on a semi-regular basis so they're of no importance to Tony. His precious car collection is in his private garage on the level above the employee parking garage. And the sleigh, he's not sure why they still call it that, is kept in the workshop on the top floor of the penthouse, which only he has access to, until December 23rd.

When he and Coulson make it into the party deck, he's immediately faced by Director Nicholas J. Fury of SHIELD. He's pretty sure his transformation into Santa is already off to a horrible start.

"Hello, Saint Nicholas," he greets the surly, one-eyed director with the cheeky moniker reserved solely for him.

Nick Fury is exceptionally good at infusing disdain in a one-eyed scowl that many with two eyes could never begin to achieve. "Hello, Stark."

"I think the name is Santa," Tony says breezily.

"I'll call you Santa maybe when I think you deserve that suit. But I wouldn't count on it," Fury clips back. "Now you might want to settle in because we've got a long brief ahead of us."

Tony rolls his eyes at the burly man and heads straight for the bar, removing his sunglasses and laying them on the counter top. "Any poison?" He asks because let it be known Tony Stark, no matter his heritage, is a decent host where this matter is concerned.

"No," Fury says sharply. "And you only get one drink because you'll need to be sober for this."

Tony rolls his eyes again, but finishes pouring his drink and then comes back over to sit on the couch. "Please don't tell me this is going to be a refresher course of Santa 101 because I swear I'm a genius and all of that is already logged away."

Fury sits down across from him. Coulson just stands until Tony can't take it and orders him to sit down. He relents.

"Tell me, Mr. Genius. What did you have for breakfast this morning?" Fury asks. Tony's brain stutters. "You took those classes in high school and you graduated early. So just because that information is logged away doesn't mean I trust you to go digging it out after all these years," Fury states in a matter-of-fact tone. "Now maybe if you'd taken better notes from Howard instead of flying off to Monaco or Malibu or wherever the hell else whenever you damn well pleased, I wouldn't feel this is necessary."

Tony snorts. "How much of that was my doing and how much of it was his?" he asks hypothetically. Then he waves a hand. "Save that lecture and just get on with this one."

"General outline of your year. I'm sure you're already familiar with most of it." Fury smartly waits to see if he'll interrupt.

"I should be on a beach somewhere right now. I know that much," Tony quips.

"Yeah, normally you'd be on vacation until the first day of spring," Fury replies simply. "But you've only been managing the Stark Industries side of things so far, and doing the bare minimum at that, so I expect a difficult transition into the juggling act that will be expected of you. Still, from spring to summer, you'll still work exclusively for Stark Industries as the world recognizes it."

"Did dad?" Tony raises an eyebrow.

"At first, yeah," Fury answers. "When his dad retired you still weren't born yet so he was the face of his company. He had his colleagues like Stane and Vanko to help him, but it was mostly up to him until you were old enough to take over a good deal of that responsibility and the media's attention."

"Guess I never noticed dad's juggling act as a kid," he says, but as usual he wants to protest and point out that he wasn't even allowed to know his father was Santa until he had stopped believing in him. He had been six, nearly seven, which in retrospect he thinks maybe he should have been smart enough to balk at such things sooner, but he guesses kids are a weird study altogether.

"You didn't have to," Coulson says. "You were just a kid."

"And now you are the face of your company," Fury continues. "During the spring months your hands-on involvement isn't typically needed on the Santa side of things, barring emergencies. You'll need to be prepared for those emergencies, but for the most part your energy will be devoted entirely to maintaining your cover to the outside world. Because you don't have a lot of time to devote to that side of things, again barring emergencies within your company, you'll have to heavy load all of your press, important meetings and conferences in that quarter."

Tony literally bites down on a groan, because he hates constant press and meetings, and then remembers he still has alcohol so takes another drink.

"Summer to fall we're looking at the business side of the Santa machine." Tony snorts a little at the terminology, because it really is like a machine: one weird conspiracy theorist's dream come true. "This is the time when you are allowed to hire new employees that have been recommended for recruitment. This is the time when you'll need to start going over the preliminary information SHIELD has collected. This is when you'll need to start keeping an eye on the toy trends for the R&D department to focus on come fall. You'll have to work extensively with legal regarding defamation of character in Christmas merchandise and media."

Tony opens his mouth quickly to say something to that, because he has had a lot of thoughts about that particular issue over the years, but Fury raises a hand.

"And, no, we're not talking policing the matter," Fury states knowingly. "If the world wants to think you're fat and old with white hair or a proud sponsor of Coca-Cola, that isn't really any of our concern."

"It should be," Tony says.

Fury ignores him. "But every now and then, there's a problem. Every now and then spies slip in or someone comes up with an idea about Santa's true identity that gets a little close with the details and both your legal department and SHIELD has to deal with the potential threat. We're talking things like conspiracy theorists, magical beings who want to destroy Christmas, terrorist organizations who might have targeted you as Tony Stark the genius and found out things they shouldn't have." He pauses and glances at Coulson.

"But occasionally there are exceptions," Coulson says with a thin smile.

"Exceptions?"

"Some movies are really just so bad that you can exercise a little authority in making sure the good people of Earth don't have to suffer. Hallmark keeps trying to up their holiday movie count every year and, frankly, there's got to be a limit somewhere."

Tony barks out a soft laugh. "Don't think I won't take advantage of that." Since it's not like he watches every single holiday movie in existence, no matter how awful, for shits and giggles or anything…

"You with us so far, Stark?" Fury asks. "You're looking a little glassy eyed."

Tony comes back from where he'd been musing over which of last year's holiday telefilms was the worst and blinks a few times. "I'm not sure these details were part of Santa 101," he then quips and Fury actually snorts, albeit a little derisively.

"Hell no. If any kids of Santa knew about the details to that extent, our abdication and suicide rates would be through the roof."

"I think you mean up the chimney," Tony says – not his best granted – even as his mind spins a little.

"At the very least I'm sure one would have gotten CPS involved by now for the hell of it," Coulson joins in on the humor.

"You know, Steve seems to be under the impression it's a wonderful responsibility."

"Steve doesn't know the half of it because he's only second in line," Fury remarks.

"So there is a line," Tony says thoughtfully. "Abdication was never covered beyond the time we had to memorize the Non-Disclosure. Actually most of my questions regarding the whole affair has to do with the logistics of it on a domestic front. Dear old dad has been no shining example. Oh and matters of consent. There's a concern there too I think."

Fury's face becomes like stone. "Abdication is not touched on because clocking out really isn't an option, Stark."

"Which brings me back to matters of consent," Tony counters briskly. "We all know Steve would be better at this than me."

Fury rolls his eye and shakes his head in obvious exasperation. "No, we don't know that. You're Santa's son. It's your responsibility. Can you abdicate? Sure. But it's a hell of a process, Stark. You lose everything if you do that."

Tony furrows his brow and for a brief second Yinsen's words echo in his ears. "What do you mean?"

"I think you can figure it out," Fury says gruffly, but then turns to Coulson as if he needs someone calmer while he regains his composure.

"If you give up your claim to being Santa," Coulson says with a surprising bit of worry underlining his tone, "you'll have to undergo the same thing anyone who agrees to work with us does."

"Memory alteration?" Tony asks in disbelief. "I'll be actually ostracized? From everything?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark. It wouldn't be safe for you to know that much and be sent out into the real world. It wouldn't be safe for the Santa who takes your place should you decide you want the spot back. That kind of power hunger, it doesn't always end well. The safest way we've figured out for handling this is memory alteration and, well, cutting that heir off from everything."

"What is this, M.I.B.?" Tony looks at them both dubiously. Losing everything is a harsh reality to consider.

"Both organizations work on the same principle, yes," Coulson says evenly. "Which is why we don’t advertise that kind of way out and why, thankfully, it's only happened twice in the history of Santa," he finishes.

"And I advise you strongly not to be the third," Fury rejoins then and he looks almost weary. "I realize it's a lot to take in. It's a heavy responsibility. But you were born to be Santa. Some people are just born great, Stark as hard as that may be to deal with. We'll come back to your other questions later. Let's move on for now. From fall to Christmas, you know what a mad house all of this becomes. You not only have to oversee R&D personally, you also have to oversee current year production and quality control. You have to maintain holiday morale because these people are giving up their personal holidays for this. Especially the ones who haven't elected to allow their families to sign our NDA along with them. You also have to make sure you make some appearances as just Tony Stark for holiday parties and charities because it's expected of you and you can't very well do that as Santa. That said, it's important you still contribute the holiday spirit that you represent. At holiday functions you can't be playboy Tony Stark. You need to be the Tony Stark that believes in holiday cheer."

"Santa subterfuge," Tony says knowingly. "I basically have to be my own spy."

"Of course, you'll also have your agents to help during this time," Coulson interjects. "And your company philanthropy work at the holidays triples so you're not expected to make personal appearances everywhere."

"Also in the fall you will need to make sure the sleigh undergoes any necessary repairs and modifications," Fury continues. "It might interest you to know that you actually have—"

"Please say full rein," Tony chirps and honestly means it.

He's surprised when Fury chuckles. "I actually was going to, yeah. You have full rein of modifications and changing the design so long as it's functional for the purpose of delivering toys. You wanna change it every year, be my guest. You Starks seem to be engineers by birth. We trust your instincts where the sleigh is concerned. All the Santas through history have decided the changes made to the sleigh. You can imagine the hullabaloo when flying reindeer were ousted."

"I've read that part of my history eagerly, I assure you," Tony admits. He can't deny that the sleigh has always been one of his biggest fascinations about the job. It's maybe that one little spark of hope that he has some kind of instinctive ability to do this job at the end of the day.

"Good. Now you also know without a doubt that from Thanksgiving to Christmas Eve, focus is almost entirely devoted to the actual delivery night prep. You will be working extensively with Rogers, Barton, and Romanoff to ensure that everything is synced between you and the command center. Map, flight patterns, weather reports, and all that other hellish work that we do to ensure you get your job done efficiently and safely."

"Right. So that sounds like it covers it," Tony says after a lull in the conversation. "So those other questions."

Fury sighs. "I think maybe I'll let Agent Coulson cover this part." Then for half a moment Tony sees the slightly fond look that passes across the furious Director's face. "He's our humanitarian after all."

"Thank you, sir," Coulson says smoothly, but Tony is certain that he means it. "Although that doesn't mean I won't Taser you if push comes to shove, Stark," the agent warns him. "So let's talk about consent. You would be surprised how often that question comes up with our Academy students in on the secret, Santa heir or no. Sixty years ago, nobody cared as far as I know. Only your truly progressive were dubious. But of course the climate has changed since then. And it's not a bad thing. Unfortunately, because of the shift, there have been some things that have fallen through the cracks in terms of Santa mythos. When you put on the suit, yes, you will be bound in a contract to uphold your duty as Santa until such time you abdicate, retire or die. Will that suit magically change who you are as a person against your will?"

Coulson sighs before continuing. "There's no definite answer for that. Theoretically, no. While there are stories of past Santas feeling like they came into their own after putting on the suit, we have just as much evidence to suggest that becoming Santa will not change a person who doesn't want to be changed. But as the position is a magical one we can only continue to try and understand the suit as a potentially magic object within a reasonable margin of era."

"So essentially, you really have no clue."

Coulson shrugs. "I wish we did. Right now the trigger point theory is the closest we've got on that front. It's plausible that becoming Santa amplifies a person's openness to getting in touch with their Christmas spirit if they've lost it. But it could still be just as dependent on other triggers that we see in anyone who regains their Christmas spirit or maintains it. An act of kindness, great holiday film or song, moving forward, having a child, making a friend, falling in love, the list goes on and on. Again, we strongly doubt being Santa is a magical cure-all if someone is already unhappy. It's maybe just a good distraction at best for some."

Tony considers the barrage of information and clicks his teeth together as he does. He's not sure what he believes or wants to believe at the moment. So he presses on.

"Okay, now for a few more questions. Since clearly the curriculum at The Academy could stand to be revised. Let's say I don't have a kid."

Fury fields this one. "We cross that bridge when we come to it. There are a few different options, but it's never been an issue."

Tony snorts. "Well it could very well be with me." Coulson and Fury share a glance, but Tony ignores whatever skepticism or understanding has passed between them. "Alright, say I have a daughter? Can a girl be Santa?" Tony knows he sounds a little juvenile, like a three-year-old asking an endless string of questions with a 'but why?' at the end. He just doesn't care. And if they want to treat him like he hasn't been Santa's son his whole life or had any training then he might as well take advantage of it.

"Hypothetically, sure," Fury says with a shrug and a nod. "Past Santas have had daughters. They've just never been first in line so it's never come up. Look, Stark. The people, kids especially, envision Santa how they want or need to see him. Should the good folks of Earth get with the times and start presenting more options for imagining Santa? You better believe it. We can't do that for them though. It's not our job. It's just our job to make sure the tradition goes on and that Christmas spirit doesn't die."

Tony has more questions, but he's starting to grow tired and it's only his first day. He feels the need to just shut himself off in the solitude of a workshop with music just this shy of eardrum shattering. He has a horrible feeling that kind of solitude, that kind of luxury will be a thing of the past. He kind of wishes now he had taken advantage of that instead of endless licentious living.

"One more question for now," he says as an afterthought. "Is there like some process for hiring people to help redesign the penthouse when the new Santa moves in? Because, no offense, living up on my parents' old floor now that they've booked it to Fiji or wherever they've gone, is definitely not gonna cut it."

Coulson smiles. "It can be arranged."

❄

In the end, Tony's redesigns for the three floor penthouse really only majorly extends to the Santa suite.

The kitchen and living space floor he gives only a little sprucing up because, against all odds he finds that he can't bring himself to change the overall warmth. It's just homey with strong wood and metal and stone that probably resembles the smaller family homes and workshops back in the days when the Santa business wasn't about catering to an increasing population in a modern world. And, maybe, he has a traitorously nostalgic bone in his body somewhere after all and he doesn't want to change his childhood home so much.

That said the kitchen definitely needs updating with appliances and new cabinets even if the layout stays the same. He also tweaks the technology; it's not that his dad wasn't an engineer himself, but Tony knows he himself is more dependent on advanced technology than his dad had been. He needs advanced technology everywhere. He needs his AI system JARVIS everywhere.

The floor he had grown up on, and was his when he'd visited home is a floor with multiple bedrooms meant for multiple children or guests, a recreational room and common space. Tony had invaded and re-purposed most of the floor since he was an only child and his tech is already there. So he leaves that floor almost entirely untouched save for making the rec room a little more up to date and replacing some things he's not as interested in anymore with things that he is.

But the Santa suite is most definitely overhauled. He adds a bigger bar, expands the mini kitchen to something still small but a little more functional so he doesn't always have to trek to the other floor during a workshop bender, he gets brand new furniture, he upgrades the fireplace, and he gets rid of the 'hers' closet to make the bathroom more luxurious. And, of course, there's the tech. More tech than the other two floors combined.

Oh. And then there's the needlessly massive nursery for the kids he'll probably never have. He turns that into another workshop in addition to the sleigh workshop that resides on the floor just above. He figures the sleigh takes up so much space that he wouldn't mind some room for other projects with the added bonus of not needing to take an elevator.

By the time the redesign is done, about a month later, it's the definition of a sleek, modern bachelor's penthouse. It would all be more rewarding if he actually got to enjoy it more often.

Tony has been known to go days without proper rest, but he feels dead on his feet after the intense Santa training with Coulson actually begins. It involves simulations, book after book to read – he's never been happier that he's a genius – and even pop quizzes like he's back in school. He has to know every single name of every single person in the building. He has subterfuge coaching as if he's not been in the media as a mogul's son his entire life and already figure that part out. He has to do all of the millions of things that he'd rather just have JARVIS or somebody else do. There are so many things that, honestly, he didn't know his dad had ever done. It was no wonder his father had been distant sometimes; he was busy.

Then there are the Letters to Santa. Tony has a feeling that Fury had deliberately not mentioned that in the schedule as some kind of cruel joke. Of course he already knew about the mail department in one section of the first floor of R&D. But he had no idea that one of the traditions of being Santa that still persists is to actually read them, every single day from the start of summer to the day before Christmas Eve. There are hundreds of letters a day. Thankfully he doesn't have to answer them too, apparently there's an automated reply letter with his – well, Santa's – signature, but still he has to read. them.

Apparently he doesn't have to read the thank you letters that come in, as those are automatically archived along with other letters in the child's file for some kind of bonus nice points or something. However, he's been reading the thank you letters as training for what it will feel like. One hour of every day is devoted to it. Again, if he wasn't a genius with the ability to speed read, he's pretty sure he would have already drunk himself to death or let SHIELD reprogram his brain – but he doesn't trust Fury not to purposely make his fake life miserable or something.

As the two months of intense training drag by, he wonders if it'll ever get easier. He wonders how any of this is worth it. He wonders what he did to deserve this fate. He even briefly wonders about the likelihood of his loneliness just getting lonelier because how does anyone in his position have time for friends? How would he ever even manage to find time for someone more?

Chapter Text

"Why do I need physical training?" Tony looks at Clint and Natasha dubiously on his lunch hour. "I mean, I am fit as can be. Have you seen any of the leaked videos? I have the stamina of—" 

"Nobody cares," Natasha cuts him off.  

"But you'll care when you're being attacked by surprise guard dogs or if a security alarm goes off or you're just so damn loud you wake somebody up," Clint says with no small amount of accusation in his tone. 

"That's why I have you two though, right? You're there for emergency Santa extraction aren't you?" Tony's fairly certain that's their purpose because otherwise he wouldn't put up with them. Okay, he probably would, but they don't need to know that. 

"Yes, Stark," Natasha says, sounding exasperated. He wonders if the last two months have been dragging on for them as well. They're probably not excited about the changing of the guard and having a new variable to deal with. "But that doesn't mean we'll get in there in time. Things can still go wrong and it's best if you know how to defend yourself." 

Tony sighs, deciding maybe the direct approach is the only way he's going to be able to work with these two. So he says, "I'll level with you. I don't have any fucking time." 

"You'll get used to it," Natasha replies emotionlessly and he seethes, just a little. She doesn't have to do even a fraction of his job.  

"She's right," Clint agrees, unsurprisingly. "Once you get the hang of it, you'll iron out your own routine and make it work. This is just boot camp. You'll have nights and weekends to yourself just like any other… Oh wait." Clint then smirks. "I just remembered. You never did an honest day's worth of work in your life before this. No wonder you're about to have a meltdown." 

"Fuck you," Tony says flippantly. 

"No thanks," Clint replies back. "But you know isn't it a little weird that you're practically Santa and like the worst person in the world to be judging whether little kids are naughty or nice?" 

"By that principle, the only one qualified is Steve," Natasha says with a tilt of her head. "I'm pretty sure only a few of the past Santas were really good role models." 

"So my point stands on a wider scale. Just who does Santa think he is?" Clint gives him a narrow gaze. 

Tony snorts in spite of everything. "Don't look at me. Ask Thor. He's the one who came down here to give us some weird magical tradition before it snowballed into this annoying, complex waste of time." 

"It's probably a good thing for you Thor doesn't wield his lightning like Zeus does," Natasha says in that tone of voice that gives away that she's being humorous. 

"Just climb the damn mountain to see if they're really there," Tony replies off-tangent with a shake of his head. 

"Incoming call from Miss Potts," JARVIS intones from the Starkphone lying in front of  him on the table. 

Tony touches the screen to accept the call without even looking and a small holographic screen pops up with Pepper's annoyed face. He immediately regrets accepting. 

"Tony, where are you? Are you eating without me? I thought we agreed you would spend your lunch with me in your office so we can go over the details regarding your two o'clock appointment."  

"Uh…" He says gracelessly because honestly he'd forgotten. "Sorry, Pep. Be right there. Want anything?"  

She gives him her trademark 'are you serious?' look. "Oh my god, Tony. You said you would bring me whatever they have good when we agreed on the lunch date," she says and he'd forgotten that too. 

"Right. So strawberries," he says playfully and cuts the call right before she can say his name in exasperation. "Looks like I'll have to take a raincheck on that physical training." He smirks at his companions.  

"I think Pepper is more than capable of putting you through your paces this time," Natasha replies with a smirk of her own. She's not wrong. Honestly, he's man enough to admit that he'd rather never go rounds with either Natasha or Pepper in any ring; one fights dirty and the other would probably just kill him.  

He gathers his food and then grabs something for Pepper, but definitely not strawberries since he'd learned the hard way once that it's the one thing she's allergic to. He then makes his way to his office.  

"Alright, what's the big deal with this appointment?" Tony asks as soon as they're seated inside.  

"It's an interview," she answers. 

Tony quickly sits up straight from where he'd been slouching on the leather sofa. "What? Oh, come on. I know I'm not in charge of hiring." He looks at her like she's lost her mind.  

"When it comes to general Stark Industries, you're right. It's left mainly to the hiring department," Pepper confirms what he already knows. "But a couple of years ago it was decided all potential R&D candidates not already on staff should interview with you directly for Stark Industries as well." 

"Oh. So this is elf recruitment," he says then with a smirk, slouching back again. 

She rolls her eyes. "We don't call it that." 

"Well, we should," he counters with a point of his finger. "So what are we looking at? What makes this interviewee a candidate already?" he asks through a bite of his food. Usually a person is hired on and it's only later they are selected as potential candidates for R&D. Even he knows it's a rare occasion when someone is marked as an immediate candidate prior to even being hired on, which is probably why there wasn't any protocol in place until recently. 

"His name is Dr. Robert Bruce Banner," she says. Tony thinks the name sounds vaguely familiar. Probably has seen or heard of him at a conference or something. "He's a nuclear physicist with a specialty in gamma. He comes highly recommended by Dr. Selvig." 

"Gamma physicist?" Tony is both impressed since there aren't many of those around and slightly skeptical. "What do we need a nuclear physicist in-house for? I mean, for SI, sure. Or maybe at SHIELD, but here? On the Santa side?" 

"He's not your average scientist, Tony. The man doesn’t have an IQ test on record, but Selvig and SHIELD's preliminary analysis indicates he may actually be smarter than you." 

She says it so casually that Tony isn't sure he heard her correctly. "Seriously?"  

"Or at least evenly matched," she then says with a shrug as if it makes no difference who's the smartest in the room. Then again she can hold her own against any of them so he knows it probably doesn't make any difference to her. "He maybe even cracked teleportation." 

Tony blinks. "Well that would come in handy on delivery night." 

"Bingo. And his areas of expertise seem to be pretty infinite. I mean, I had to look up what a Nuclear Medicine Technician even is since that's what he's doing right now, along with having another two pages worth of ongoing community service work on the side." 

Tony's eyes widen. "Wait, is he a physicist or a saint? Are you trying to replace me?"  

Pepper just rolls her eyes and continue. "He doesn't have an MD, but it looks like it wouldn't be too difficult for him to obtain one if he's already working in a medical capacity. So there could be potential there just like with Dr. Cho for filling the gap Dr. Yinsen left." Tony doesn't respond, only swallows another bite of food down a little harder than usual. "But even if you don't think he's a good fit for—" 

"Elf recruitment," Tony inserts quickly because he feels pretty determined to make that the new code name for this aspect just for the fun of it. 

She sighs. "He'd still certainly be a good fit for Stark Industries." 

"Sounds like it." 

"Another thing that might interest you," she starts, sounding tentative and he raises an eyebrow, "General Ross hates him." 

He perks up immediately. "What's the deal there?" Tony eagerly sets his food aside. 

"Apparently there was some kind of accident. He was working under a military contract and felt that General Ross double-crossed him. SHIELD is keeping the details under wraps, but the guy has been all but blacklisted from the scientific community the past few years thanks to it," Pepper explains. 

"Huh. We sure do look for some interesting people to help spread holiday cheer to children, don't we?" He laughs. "It's like irony." 

"A little bit," she agrees with a soft smile before looking at the clock and standing. "Well, lunch is almost over and you have a packed hour before that interview." 

His humor falls as he groans. "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus," he mutters and she rolls her eyes since he often uses that coin of phrase against her because of her real name. "And his job sucks," he adds with a shake of his head.  

❄ 

Tony is watching an absolutely asinine contraption on his desk that Pepper go round and round and round. Pepper had given it to him as an office warming present, but the longer he watches it the more he thinks it actually was meant as a cruel joke in retaliation for his assholery. It's not soothing or hypnotic whatever else it's supposed to be. It's just damn annoying.  

Tony is broken from his annoyed trance when Pepper appears at the door and then gestures in a man. He blinks several times as he takes in the man's appearance. The man is lean, with brunet, wavy hair and brown eyes framed behind glasses. He's not exactly tall; Pepper is taller than him in heels so he's probably about Tony's height he guesses. He's precisely the sort one might imagine when imagining what a scientist looks like – with a touch of professor, Tony thinks – and yet he's also precisely the sort that gives meaning to the phrase: nerds are sexy.  

He also looks like a bit of a nervous sort if the way he's looking at Tony with dumbstruck expression just shy of 'oh my god I'm out of here' is any indication. He looks like he might actually want to bolt from the room. Tony can't let that happen and stands to his feet quickly just in case. 

"...Banner, Mr. Stark," Pepper is saying, sounding a little like a parrot although she also gives him a strange glance. Then she excuses herself back to her office, shutting the door behind her, and Tony realizes he missed the initial introduction. 

Tony promptly moves from his desk and to the middle of the office, since the doctor seems a little hesitant in coming over to him without prompting, and reaches out a hand to this man. This man who may or may not be smarter than him. He perused his file quickly after lunch and there's absolutely no doubt that the man is brilliant. Breathtakingly so.  

"Dr. Banner," he says and the physicist takes his hand to shake. Tony blinks slightly at the contact because usually he hates shaking hands, but this feels different. Dr. Banner's hand is warm and broad and fits well in his own. Dr. Banner blinks too and Tony is aware that they linger a little too long just standing there making eye contact. "It's nice to meet you," he forces himself to say and pulls his hand back. "I had a chance to read a few of your papers and let me say, you are truly just the kind of candidate we look for here at Stark Industries." 

"Thank you," Banner says, but seems a little taken back by the interest. Tony wonders at that for half a second before remembering the man's been ostracized from the scientific community. That can't be good for the ego.  

"Have a seat," Tony gestures to the chair across from his desk as he goes back around to his own.  

Once they're seated Tony quickly realizes he has no idea how to do this. He's never interviewed anyone before in his life. And the other man still looks downright skittish, like he's waiting for Tony to berate him for having the audacity to apply for such a position. So, after a thoroughly awkward moment he decides to be blunt with the man.  

"You can relax," he starts and the other guy snaps his eyes back into focus a little. "If it helps, this is my first time giving an interview since taking over as CEO from my father. I haven't a damn clue what I'm even supposed to ask you." 

Tony punctuates his command to at-ease with one of his widest Stark smiles. It's basically a Santa thing. Something about the Stark smile makes people feel good and safe, like there's something familiar about it even though they don't understand why.  

Dr. Banner offers a soft, very thin smile in return and to Tony's surprise, it feels just as good, safe and familiar. He's not exactly an idiot where this subject is concerned so he realizes that he might be just a little bit attracted to the other man on some level or another. Who could blame him looking at the physicist after all. Still… Feeling good, safe and familiar is kind of a new one he'll have to file away for the time being. 

"How, uh…" Dr. Banner stammers at first and then sighs. "How about we just cut to the chase and you ask me about the accident. I don't want to waste your time longer than need be." 

Tony studies him carefully. "You know, not that I'm an expert at having to do interviews, but I'm pretty sure one of the first rules is not to tiptoe or sell yourself short," he points out. "But, hey, I'm not your typical employee," and isn't that a laugh, "so if that's what you want to tell me about, shoot." 

Dr. Banner blinks several times as if truly stunned before regaining his composure. "Okay," he replies tentatively. "Well, I was working on a project—I can't give the details because of non-disclosure, but I hoped the outcome would help soldiers, maybe even save lives. That was the pretense under which I was hired onto the project. Then I found out that I was being used to create a weapon. I got…" He sighs, pauses for a few seconds and then restarts. "I went into a blind rage and destroyed everything. And I injured my best friend and lab partner, Dr. Ross." 

"Shit. General Ross' daughter?" Tony stares at him in disbelief. He's also trying to imagine what this seemingly reserved man would look like in a fit of blind rage. It almost seems laughable, but his hands are pretty— 

"Yes," Dr. Banner sighs again, sounding thoroughly defeated, chasing Tony's previous thoughts away. "The only reason I'm not worse off than I am is because Betty… that is, Dr. Ross didn't press charges. She was just as angry with her father. I don't remember any of it and there's no audio on the surveillance video, but she says she wanted to help me and swears I kept telling her to just stay back so she wouldn't get blamed. She says she didn't listen and when I finally turned on her, I was just too far gone. I don't know if she was just saying that, but…" His sentence trails and he shrugs. "Also my cousin's a good defense attorney so I managed to settle even though I think General Ross would have liked to have had me doing at least fifty years in solitary confinement." 

That last bit makes Tony fleetingly consider a blind rage as well. He's not sure if it's the self-righteous Santa-judge thing or the fact that he already dislikes Ross and this man doesn't seem to deserve such extreme vitriol. Whatever the reason he realizes why Dr. Selvig had recommended him. He's clearly got a good deal of conviction if he's willing to destroy all of his hard work to stop a potential weapon. Tony hates weapons with a burning passion, so he's impressed.  

"Well, here's the thing," Tony finally responds. Dr. Banner looks like he's drawing in on himself, waiting for the blow. Tony frowns, but presses on. "I personally can't stand General Ross and if his own daughter picked your side, then that's good enough of a recommendation for me." The physicist's mouth actually falls open. Tony smiles again, always loving when he takes somebody off guard. "Look, I hate weapons. Stark Industries hates weapons. We don't do that here. I'm not going to lie and say we're not shady in other ways. Science and tech is a seedy little underworld when you stop and think about it."  

"It actually is," Dr. Banner replies, seeming amused which is a nice change.  

"Right," Tony nods, "so if you don’t mind a little of your standard fair of seediness, then I think you'd be a wonderful asset for this company." 

"You… Seriously?" Dr. Banner continues to doubt him and Tony is trying to figure out if it's frustrating or just sad. "You realize that it would be a risk to your company's reputation?" 

Tony tilts his head to one side and studies him. "You realize maybe you should have considered that before applying?" He counters. "So why did you?" 

"Uh… Okay, fair point," Dr. Banner concedes. "I ran into a previous mentor and colleague of mine who works for the government. Uh, Strategic Homeland something or other. The name's too damn long for me to remember," he huffs out a small laugh; it sounds rusty but nice. 

Tony barks out his own laugh in response. "They call it SHIELD. Founded by my father actually, right after the war." He doesn't say because the postmodern world had demanded a shift in Christmas tradition and safety protocol, and his father, though not yet Santa at the time, had realized this and taken a proactive step towards that shift. "So I have it on good authority that the acronym actually stands for something else," he adds with humor only to realize too late that he probably shouldn't have done that. He's not supposed to even hint at something going on behind the scenes let alone to a potential 'elf' who hasn't even been hired yet. 

"Well, whatever it stands for, SHIELD is at least easier to say," Dr. Banner gives another small laugh before straightening up a little. "My friend, Dr. Erik Selvig talked me into applying and trying to get back into the scientific community. He said I might be surprised. I… I must say so far I am…" 

Tony smiles. "Good. I like surprising people. And he's right. A man of your obvious genius should be where that genius will best be put to use. I saw on your resume that you've been working as a Nuclear Medicine Technician?" He raises an eyebrow even as he looks down at that blasted whirling statue thing that Pepper gave him.  

"Uh, yeah…" Dr. Banner nods. "Having my doctorate in nuclear physics with an extensive background in biology, chemistry and radiology among other things, it wasn't too hard to complete the specific courses for the technical license. I still wanted to help people so I thought perhaps going into the medical field might be a way to do that. At least it's something..." His sentence trails as if he's uncertain about something. 

The whole time he was talking Tony had noticed Dr. Banner's attention was also on the spinning statue of stupidity so he has to derail their interview. "It's annoying isn't it?" He startles the physicist out of his thoughts and he looks up to meet his gaze. "That thing," Tony points, "is ridiculous, am I right?" 

Dr. Banner blinks and then looks at it for a moment. To Tony's surprise he gives a soft smile. "If I say yes?" He looks back with a raised eyebrow. 

A broad smile spreads across Tony's face and he immediately begins looking around his desk for a way to stop the motion of the statue. "If you say yes I might be inclined to ask you where you've been all my life because it's about damn time somebody else with a brain has come along," he answers, and frankly he's pretty sure it's an earnest statement. He places an empty coffee cup in a spot that will stop the windmill effect and sighs in relief. "There." 

When he looks back at Dr. Banner, the man is looking at him in amusement. "Why am I starting to think this is a weird test? If I had said no would you have retracted your previous offer?" 

Tony laughs and shakes his head. "No, because you're still brilliant. However, from this point on I would have silently judged… scratch that, openly judged you and heckled you and probably regifted this thing to you come Christmas." He gives him a sharp smile that dares him to think he's joking. 

"Well, thank God I said no then," the other man says with clear relief and Tony feels a similar burst of relief, like he hasn't felt in the past couple of months. Tony realizes he's staring and clears his throat.  

"You said you still wanted to help people." Tony studies him. "That seems like an understatement. Two pages worth of community work? Do you happen to sleep at all? Ever?" 

"Does any scientist?" It's a non-answer and Tony knows it, but doesn't press. 

"Touché," Tony replies with a chortle. "As you know, Stark Industries is known for its philanthropic work. Especially around the holidays," he adds before he can bite his tongue. He recovers just as quickly. "So if you were to take the position with us, is that something you would continue to pursue? Because we do have a fairly flexible schedule here so long as you're pulling your weight. And we also have quite a few incentives for our employees that spread the ho—" Damn it. He was going to say holiday cheer. "The humanitarian ideals of the company," he recovers again. 

"Yes, I'm aware of the company's stance," Dr. Banner says with a small smile. "In fact, I've worked with some of the organizations sponsored by the Maria Stark Foundation," Dr. Banner says with a small smile. "In particular, they sponsor a children's home and youth center that I frequent. The kids there are wonderful and I would hate to just abandon my work with them, so yes I think that's something I would continue to pursue." 

Tony feels his head spin and he locks eyes with the man in front of him. There's a strange warmth in his chest that he hasn't felt before and he doesn't know what to do with it for certain, but he gets the idea that it's telling him without a doubt that Dr. Bruce Banner is a good candidate for the other side of the company, not just Stark Industries. It's telling him Dr. Banner needs to be there. He suddenly wonders if this is some Santa super power that nobody told him about. What was the point of those stupid Santa courses if they didn't teach the basics? Or anything at all. Seriously, the education system is a joke. 

"Is that… a surprise?" Dr. Banner asks, breaking him from his thoughts. 

"What?" Tony blinks and sees the man looking hesitant. "No, no. I just… Hey, not a surprise. I love kids. You like kids? Or working with kids? Do you have any kids of your own… scratch that, it's a personal question and has no bearing on this interview," he rambles, because he can't seem to stop. 

Dr. Banner is back to looking slightly amused. "Uh, yes, I like kids. And the personal question is fine. The answer to that is no. No kids of my own." He sounds almost sad and Tony realizes, yes, this man has a soft spot for children, probably wants children, and now it's all starting to add up as to why he would be recommended for his attributes all across the board. 

There's a knock on the door and he looks up as Pepper lets herself in. "I'm so sorry to interrupt. Mr. Stark, there's a situation in the mail room that requires your attention." He furrows his brow. "And we'll have to reschedule your letter reading until it's sorted out." 

Tony sighs. "Must be a serious problem then. Okay, give me a few more moments with Dr. Banner and if Steve's around I'm sure he can handle it until I get there."  

"Alright," she says with a nod and then leaves again.  

Dr. Banner is looking at him curiously when Tony looks back at him. "I never realized CEOs were that hands on." 

"Not your typical employer," Tony reiterates with a smile. 

"I'm starting to see that. Because I've never heard of scheduling a time to look over mail either," he says with a laugh.  

"Well, when you get as many letters from kids as I do," he says with a shrug and then winces when he realizes his mistake.  

He looks at Dr. Banner tentatively. He must be some kind of Delilah because the man has him spilling secrets like it's second nature when in fact he's usually more guarded than this. Hell, he's spent years in the real world able to keep the secret! Is it just first interview jitters?  

"You get letters from kids?" Dr. Banner asks with a furrowed brow. 

He doesn't want to lie, but he has to. "Uh, yeah, it's fan mail," he says, quickly fabricating a response. It's not entirely untrue. It's kind of like fan mail. "I get a lot of fan mail from kids. You'd be surprised." 

"Oh. Well, I guess you're famous. I didn't consider that. I don't spend a lot of time paying attention to that sort of thing." He shrugs. "But that's… That's sweet," Dr. Banner says and his tone is as saccharine as a candy cane and for the first time Tony doesn't exactly hate the connotation. 

"It is. Kids are cool like that," Tony clips, trying to both fumble through this particular conversation and also trying to trample down his sudden and radically new feelings about candy canes. "So I, uh, I have a time during my day when I look over the mail they send in. And the mail department sends a letter back. Automated of course, but you have to understand I'd be here forever if I responded personally to all of them." Tony keeps a tight smile on his face as he basically gives away the truth without giving away the truth.  

"No, wow. No, I understand. I'm… I'm a little surprised you care enough to look at the letters at all." Then suddenly Dr. Banner panics. "Oh, I mean, not that—" 

Tony holds up a hand and offers him a softer smile. "It's fine."  

It's actually more than fine because Dr. Banner is giving him more credit than he deserves. Sure, he likes kids and the appreciation, but he has been so busy grousing about being so busy all the time that he knows he's seen that part of his schedule as a chore he won't have to do anymore after the truly intense training is over in a week. He suddenly feels guiltier by one unknowing response from Dr. Banner than years of the likes of Steve or Clint or Natasha trying to make him feel guilty for not taking his job more seriously.  

Tony quickly shakes his head and smiles more broadly. "So, the position is definitely yours if you want it, Dr. Banner," he says.  

"You know, I do actually." He says it as if he's surprised that he could want to work at a billion-dollar company which is… weird… and yet… endearing.  

"Great. That's…" He stands to his feet and holds out his hand. Dr. Banner stands and takes his hand. Again it feels, well, good… "That's wonderful. Glad to have you on board. I have to warn you, the next few months might be a bit of a… doozy," he says, trying not to wince. He lets go of Dr. Banner's hand and moves around the desk and gestures broadly toward the door. "There's a definite learning curve here at SI, but we wouldn't hire you if we didn't think you capable of adapting. So, you speak with Ms. Potts and she'll get you all taken care of with our hiring department and legal. And…" He glances at his watch. "And if I have time, I'll even take you on the company tour myself."  

"Oh, that's… That's generous. But I'm sure you're busy," Dr. Banner says awkwardly.  

Tony sighs melodramatically. "Well, busy is probably the understatement of the millennium, but I'll still see what I can do." He opens the door and Pepper is out of her smaller office across the hall and standing in front of them in record time, efficient as always. "Pepper, Dr. Banner will be joining our team," he says with a smile and she smiles back with a gleam in her eye. "So you can handle it from here right?" 

"Absolutely," she says. "Dr. Banner, if you'll just wait in the reception down the hall, I will be with you in a few moments." 

"Sure. Thank you," he says and moves between them and into the hall.  

Tony suddenly can't help himself. "Dr. Banner," he says and the physicist turns back with wide-eyed confusion, as if not used to having his name called out. "I'm looking forward to working with you," he says earnestly and with a smile. 

Dr. Banner blinks once, but then smiles thinly and Tony can tell it's a genuine gesture. "Likewise, Mr. Stark," he replies with a nod and then turns to leave down the hall. 

Tony watches him go with no small amount of intrigue before turning back to talk to Pepper about the mail room situation. However, when he does she's looking at him with a strange look: widened, curious eyes and a half smile.  

"What?" he asks, but she doesn't answer. 

Chapter Text

"Stark." Tony looks up from his tablet and sees Coulson standing in the doorway of a staff lounge he'd ducked into. He rolls his eyes and then goes back to reading. "Stark, don't make me Taser you."

"I'm beginning to think you and Darcy might be related," Tony says. "Or something else I don't want to think about," he adds with a grimace. "And I thought we were taking a break on the whole intensive Santa training? Why are you hanging around? Aren't I supposed to be focusing solely on being a CEO?"

"You seem fairly confident that I'm not here for just that reason," Coulson replies evenly as he comes into the room and looms nearby. "Or are you reading through those press packets SHIELD approved for you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Tony lies with a wave of his hand.

"Huh. Guess I'll need to tell Barton to get his eyes checked. He seems to be under the impression you've been neck deep in all things Banner since he was hired." Tony frowns and looks up at him. "Told me every time he sees you these days, you're reading or rereading another one of his papers."

"Tell Barton to keep his hawk eyes to himself and stop spying on Santa," Tony demands. He lays aside the tablet and straightens up. "And, again, I thought I was supposed to be devoting my time to the SI side of things. Isn't getting to know my newest employee a good thing? Especially if we're supposed to be keeping an eye on him for elf recruitment?"

"It's not called—" Coulson stops short in slight exasperation and then takes a deep breath. "Elf recruitment isn't up to you to worry about. You have a team devoted to keeping an eye on him and gathering the data for you to look at later."

"So I want to be a little more hands on." Tony shrugs. "I'm new to this so what better way to learn the ins and outs?" He fixes Coulson with a sharp grin.

"Just because you can justify it doesn't mean there's not something else going on here," Coulson says, unwavering. "You've been seeing him." Tony raises an eyebrow. "Not like that. But Pepper tells me you gave him the tour. And I happen to know you've had lunch with him one at least two occasions. And you've been popping into his department like a twelve-year-old with a crush." Coulson then pulls out a brochure and looks it over for a moment so that Tony can see what it is. It's the brochure for an upcoming science conference. He bites his lip, knowing what's coming next. "Pepper also says you told her to give him the invite to the conference. The same conference that, from the looks of this brochure, will have at least a few people who don't exactly like our Dr. Banner." He tosses the brochure on a nearby coffee table. "So something tells me this isn't about being hands on. At least, not in a way that's professional," he adds so even-toned that Tony isn't sure if was meant to be a joke.

"Okay so we hit it off," Tony defends himself. "I genuinely like this guy and want to be friends with him. And as his friend I want to make sure the guy gets the last laugh at the assholes who ostracized him. As far as I can tell he damn well deserves it."

"I don't dispute that, but—"

"No, no," Tony interrupts his attempt to reason with him. "Is it some kind of crime for me to like this guy? Is that against the Santa rules? Am I only supposed to get to know people and maybe become friends with them after they've agreed to work for Santa-me instead of regular-me? What the hell kind of life is that? What, am I going to be subjected to an arranged marriage too? Is that why they don't want to teach Santa's kids about domestic affairs?"

Tony doesn't realize he's on his feet and practically fuming until Coulson calmly crosses his arms and asks, "Are you done?" Tony lets his muscles relax with a deep exhale. "Look, that's not what this is about, Mr. Stark. I'm sorry you feel that way and I understand why this is taking some getting used to. I'm glad you've made a friend, honestly. When Dr. Selvig recommended Banner to us we even hoped for it."

"You have a weird way of showing it," Tony mutters, but furrows his brow at his statement. Why would they hope for it?

As if reading his expression, Coulson explains, "Part of why we considered Banner a potentially good match for R&D is because on paper he seemed like just the kind of fresh face needed for this new era. Your father had Peggy, Edwin, even Stane and Vanko before their respective betrayals. Banner seemed like precisely the kind of colleague you need in addition to those you already have. He's your intellectual equal and Selvig seemed to think you'd also complement each other in a working relationship."

"Then what's the problem here?" Tony throws up his hands. Bruce is his intellectual equal and he's just all around someone he gets along with so far. He has to begrudgingly admit that Barton isn't wrong in his observation. They've gotten along so well at each brief turn that Tony can't seem to stay away.

"The problem here, Stark, is that it's still a very delicate balancing act. You are going full speed ahead without thinking about the consequences. We know you have a tendency to do that and perhaps underestimated just how well you would get along with Banner from the get go. So now I'm here to try and prevent you from messing things up." Tony scowls, but he doesn't interrupt Phil's speech. "Look, we understand that the whole Secret of Santa business is still very dubious. We're working on it." Tony's surprised to hear that. "But in the meantime we're stuck with the formula we have. If you get attached and things don't turn out the way we want them to or, for sake of argument, the guy turns out to be a threat and you're too close to the bomb before SHIELD has a chance to diffuse it, then what? I know it doesn't seem fair, but there's a reason you're not supposed to get too close to candidates beforehand."

Tony huffs and looks away. He realizes he does sort of feel like the equivalent of a petulant twelve-year-old whose just been told they can't date until they're sixteen. Then again, he never would have stood for that if that had been the case when he really was twelve so he looks back sharply at Coulson.

"Let's get one thing clear," Tony says defiantly. "As far as I'm aware the rules say I'm Santa. So unless there's an impeachment process you're also keeping under wraps," and frankly he's not sure he'd even be surprised at this point since Fury's secrets seem to have secrets, "this is still my operation. And unless I'm supposed to give up all free will it's still my life. Dr. Banner is getting that invitation. I'll try to be careful otherwise, but I'm not making any promises."

Coulson gives him one long, scrutinizing look and then says, "Okay." He says it so simply that Tony's not sure he didn't imagine it. Then, with a nod the other man leaves again and Tony wonders if it's really that easy.

❄

"Hey, boss," Darcy says cheerfully as she comes up beside him in the cafeteria. "What's up? Haven't seen you around lately."

"That's because he's been spending all of his time stalking someone," Clint says as he turns around with his own tray of food and smirks at them.

"He's Santa," Darcy says as she picks up a banana and inspects it. "Stalking is his livelihood," she says with a shrug and sets the banana back down in favor of an orange.

"Uh, first of all, SHIELD has taken over that job these days thank you very much—"

"On your behalf," Clint points out. "And you still go over all of the data. Twice."

Tony sighs. "Don't remind me." He then asks for a sandwich before twisting his face in annoyance. "Second of all, I've been spending my time running this place. Or, well, half of this place," he finishes with a furrowed brow and then shakes his head. "So I'd appreciate it if you stopped tattling on me. This isn't kindergarten." It's true that Pepper had tattled on him too, but he isn't about to take up any complaints with her. He's not stupid.

"Stark, I'm just doing my job," Clint says with a shrug as Tony grabs his sandwich and they both walk in tandem toward an open space. "I have to keep my eyes open at all times to help you keep this operation running smoothly. It's my job to report your sudden man crush."

"Man crush?" Darcy suddenly chirps and they stop to see that she'd followed. "Man crush!? Okay, I need details immediately. Also, dibs on planning your wedding."

Tony barks a laugh. "Yeah, no, that's never gonna happen." She frowns. "You're lucky I trust you with the SoS."

"Hey," she protests. "I've believed in you my whole life. I wasn't even surprised by the secret."

"Well, you know, technically you believed in my dad your whole life," Tony counters.

"I meant a collective you. The collective Santa."

"That's weird."

"Look, all I'm saying is Santa getting married is like a huge deal and I want in on that."

"Who said anything about getting married?" Tony shrugs broadly.

"Also, if you're looking to adopt, I'm more than happy to volunteer. I'd make a great daughter. I'm totally in the market for a couple of dads."

Tony's eyebrows shoot up. "Okay, don't ever say that again. Ever. Seriously, you're three seconds away from a visit to Charles because I can't deal with you anymore." Tony shakes his head and starts to walk away.

"Someone's protesting too much," Darcy sing-songs under her breath to Clint.

"Hey, collective annoying people," Tony says, turning around and walking backwards so that he can look at them, "get this straight. Santa is not getting married and he doesn't have a man crush." Okay, maybe that's a little bit of a lie, but it's nothing out of control, nothing he can't handle. Certainly not leading to marriage, or even dating at this point. What's wrong with a healthy friendship for better or worse 'til death do you part?

"You're going to have lunch with him right now," Clint says in an even, knowing tone. It's not even a question. "Or is it coincidence you're taking a different lunch hour than usual that also happens to be his?"

"And I'm the stalker," Tony says sarcastically as he turns to leave again.

"You're still the one paying me to stalk," Clint calls after him. Okay, so that's… technically true.

❄

So the surest way to get Tony to do something is to tell him not to do something. It's such a commonly known fact that Tony doesn't even understand why people continue to tell him 'no' or 'don't' because they should know by now it's only going to have the opposite effect on him. Which is probably why he makes sure to ignore Coulson's warning and Clint's heckling and go ahead and make it a point to have lunch with Bruce several more times over the next couple of weeks.

It's not a choice he regrets as he gets to know the physicist even better. The more time he spends with Bruce, the more he likes spending time with him. Besides, he figures he can justify it anyways since he'll be gone for two and a half weeks and won't be able to see Bruce again until the conference at the end of that third week. That's a pretty long time not to see the guy on the one hand and on the other it's a pretty long time he won't have to deal with any commentary from the peanut gallery.

Which is soon to include Steve apparently because he comes into Tony's office while he and Bruce are sharing lunch one afternoon and looks absolutely scandalized at the way Tony is leaning in close to Bruce on the couch as he recounts a story about a run-in with Reed Richards. As if he's some blushing heterosexual virgin who can't fathom how two men could be so comfortable in each others' company. Tony looks up at him in exasperation over the interruption and notes the way Bruce suddenly looks uncomfortable compared to what he'd been only seconds before. Of course that's reasonable seeing as Steve is practically glaring at Bruce like he's some scheming minx.

Tony huffs. "Dr. Banner, this is my cousin Steve. Steve, this is Dr. Banner."

Steve glances at Tony and then back to Bruce. "Oh, uh, the new employee you've been talking about, right?" Tony could just about duct tape Steve's mouth shut at this point, but nods instead. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Banner," Steve corrects his faux-pas.

Bruce visibly relaxes and smiles. "Nice to meet you as well, uh, Steve." He glances between the two of them. "I don't see the resemblance."

"That's because I hit the genetic lottery and he didn't," Tony doesn't waste the prime opportunity.

Bruce snorts. "Right. Because tall, blonde, blue-eyed and handsome isn't everyone's ideal." Then he stammers, "Uh, not... Not that I want to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"It's fine," Steve replies with his almost-Santa smile - it's like apple pie and puppy dogs, Tony admits with a not-at-all-jealous grumble - and raises a hand. "I've had plenty of men tell me I'm handsome over the years, and I'm inclined to like it."

"Oh," Bruce just tones, understanding him.

"But don't get any ideas because he's not on the market," Tony says with a sharp smile towards Steve that he hopes says 'what do you think you're doing?'

"Well, that's because us tall, blonde, blue-eyed and handsome ones get snagged up real quick," Steve teases and winks at Bruce in a conspiratorial fashion.

Bruce laughs. "He's right. Us short, dark-haired and dark-eyed ones don't stand much of a chance, do we?"

Tony fakes a laugh and then decides to change the subject. "Is there a reason you're interrupting my sacred lunch hour?" 

Steve rolls his eyes. "It's about Bucky actually. He needs you to sign off on the security clearance paperwork for the press tour."

Tony frowns. "Who said he's coming?"

Steve matches his frown. "He's your bodyguard. Of course he's coming with us."

"Us?" Tony echoes. "What?"

"No arguments," Steve says. Then he looks at Bruce and smiles. "Pleasure meeting you, Dr. Banner. Hopefully we can talk again sometime." Steve doesn't leave without throwing Tony a look that definitely says 'what do you think you're doing?' 

"He seemed nice," Bruce comments when he's gone, none the wiser that if Steve had his way, or any of them had their way, Bruce wouldn't be anywhere near Tony right now. "Sure you're related?"

"Hilarious," Tony replies. "He can be a little on the self-righteous side sometimes, but I guess he's harmless." Tony's not sure he wants to think about any of that right now. "So, where were we?"

"You were telling me about the time you and Reed-"

"Oh right." Tony nods and takes a bite of his lunch. "Okay, so then, after all of that insufferable posturing and condescension I looked at Richards point blank and said, 'If you really have a theory about everything then what's your theory on how much you'd have to stretch before you could take me?'"

Bruce sputters around his own bite of food and swallows hard before laughing. "You didn't?" He looks at him dubiously as he tries to compose himself and then takes a drink from his water bottle. Tony has quickly learned that he could make a hobby out of making Bruce laugh; it's still a little rusty sounding, but getting progressively nicer to hear. "Oh god, that's awful. He should have flipped the table and said something that would imply you're embarrassingly small," he suggests with another chuckle and shake of his head.

"I know!" Tony replies with a short, sharp laugh. "I gave him the perfect opening. But he was too busy acting like I'd just said the most scandalous thing in the world and doing the no homo thing. I mean, sure that's what I was going for, but if the guy would just loosen up maybe I'd try harder to like him."

Bruce rolls his eyes, still chuckling softly every now and then. "You're really an asshole aren't you?"

Tony smirks. "Guilty. But a lovable one."

"Well, it's a good thing we didn't know each other when we were younger," Bruce says then and Tony scrunches his face. Usually that sentiment is said the other way around. "You probably would have been one of the bullies that made my life miserable," he says it with a sigh, mood falling visibly.

"Now that's debatable," Tony replies quickly.

"Sure about that?" Bruce counters with a skeptical brow.

"Definitely," Tony insists. "You see, there are a lot of people I should get along with and I can't stand them. Then there are other people I consider friends that probably shouldn't make sense, but it does to me. I'm kind of a puzzle. Assuming you were even remotely like you are now then there's a fifty/fifty chance. I like genuine people. Always have deep down." He shrugs.

Bruce gives a thoughtful hum and takes a bite of his lunch. "And were you a genuine person back then?" he asks casually around said bite.

Tony feels the proverbial table flipped. It's a good question. It's a question he doesn't have an answer for. Or maybe he does. He's definitely made an art out of being genuine without being vulnerable, which Pepper has told him time and again isn't good enough for most people. The thing is he's not even sure he's a genuine person now. Here he is feeling like Bruce Banner is the best thing that's happened to him in his pretty weird life and rather than strut like he wants to he has to keep on his toes so he won't let down his guard.

"I don't know," he finally answers and bites the inside of his cheek. "I guess you could say fabrication has been a mainstay in my life for as long as I can remember." He gives a pathetic sort of snort. "Who knows? Maybe that's why I like genuineness." He hitches a shoulder and looks to see Bruce looking at him something between empathetic and sympathetic. "I try to be genuine, but it isn't always easy. And back then? Maybe I wasn't so genuine as I'd like to think."

"Well," Bruce says with a placating smile, "I guess at least you try. Most people don't even do that much. It requires too much vulnerability and self-awareness," he adds that part with a sigh. "And if you're being genuine now, then that's what matters most, right?" He shrugs and casually takes another bite of his lunch.

Tony's eyes widen and suddenly he wonders if Coulson's speech about the dangers of getting close to someone wasn't completely unmerited. There's a twinge in his chest and a sudden impulse to tell Bruce who he really is.

❄

Tony is finally going over his press packets, waiting until the afternoon before the first day he'll start interview tapings on local talk shows, when Pepper ducks her head into his office. He wonders if maybe he should upgrade the office intercoms. Maybe he can configure JARVIS to the whole building now that he's in charge. He quickly jots down the note and then looks up at her.

"Yes, Peppermint?" He bats his eyes at her playfully.

"Rhodey is downstairs in the lobby," she says with only a small hint that she finds his antics annoying. "He said you were supposed to meet him ten minutes ago and he's been trying to call you."

Tony's face falls and he looks around for his phone. "Um. Okay. Nobody panic. But we have a crisis on our hands."

"What kind of crisis?"

"I can't find my phone." He stands up and looks at her with wide eyes. "My phone is missing!"

"Okay. Just calm down, Tony. You probably just set it down somewhere."

"Calm down? Calm down? I need my phone."

"It's not like anyone can access it. And don't you have everything backed up?" She gives him a dubious expression. "This is you we're talking about. You could just ask JARVIS to locate it, right?" Then she sighs. "But come on. Let's go see if anyone's turned it in to HR." She sounds like an impatient school teacher, which is kind of patronizing, but he follows her just the same. If HR doesn't have it, he's going to the penthouse and having JARVIS locate it like she'd suggested.

Since he's in no capacity to actually do the questioning, something Pepper obviously realizes, he stands back hoping for the best while Pepper handles it. He watches impatiently as the director opens a large drawer and starts looking through it while remarking that she doesn't recall anyone turning in a phone. Then suddenly he hears Rhodey's ringtone and he turns around so quickly that the unsuspecting physicist looking down at the phone like it's a Rubik's cube (and it essentially is) startles, but thankfully doesn't drop it.

"Bruce has my phone!" Tony cheers in absolute relief and quickly grabs it to answer the call. "Hey, I'll be down in a minute," he tells the man on the other end and then hangs up. Then without thinking he startles Bruce further by throwing his arms around him tightly. "You found my phone! I'm so happy I could kiss you," he says as he lets go again. He's not even ashamed by how ridiculous it might seem. He's nothing without his tech. His tech is him, the part of him that isn't Santa.

"Mr. Stark, enough of that, please." He's immediately reprimanded by the HR director. "I don't want Dr. Banner to feel the need to bring a harassment charge against you."

Bruce blinks several times. "Uh…" He then clears his throat. "No, I… I won't. Don't worry. As long as he doesn't kiss me," he then adds dryly. Tony chuckles, but a small thought says kissing Bruce would probably be nice.

He banishes that thought quickly and says, "Walk with me, Bruce." He gestures for him to follow. He sees Bruce glance at Pepper as if unsure if that's okay, but she just shrugs so he does. "You don't know how worried I was about this."

"A tech mogul losing his phone is a little ironic," Bruce muses. "I heard it going off in our team's lab. You must have lost it out of your pocket on our lounge when you visited us this morning."

You. Visited you. Tony doesn't say as much, just says, "Well, I'm glad you found it. I'd like to think everyone would turn it in like you were going to, but who knows."

"Well," Bruce says as they step onto an elevator, "it's not like anyone could do anything with it other than maybe sell it for parts. I… I was going to try and answer the third or fourth call just as a courtesy to maybe see who the phone belonged to, but it wouldn't let me." He raises a curious brow over one rim of his glasses.

"That's because it's special tech. I have my phone configured so that it requires my fingerprints to do absolutely anything, including answer a call. And any other attempt to mine data from it renders said data corrupted."

"I don't know if I'd call that ingenious or paranoid," Bruce contemplates. "But I understand you're a high profile individual and you probably don't want your phone falling into the wrong hands."

"You have no idea," Tony says with a nervous chuckle. After all, the extra security measure was necessary or else he'd never be able to use his phone to handle any Santa stuff, or use it to communicate with those who knew the secret, for fear of the secret being outed to someone who might want to manipulate it. He'd have to have multiple phones and it would just be exhausting.

"But could it be dangerous if you were incapacitated? For no person to be able to unlock your phone?"

Tony considers it with a purse of his lips. "Well, the odds of that happening are pretty slim and I'd say the cons outweigh the pros so I'll take my chances. At least the cons outweigh the pros for me," he clarifies. "But it's not tech that's going to be hitting the shelves anytime soon as far as Stark Industries is concerned, so I'm not worried about any potential lawsuits." Bruce just hums and then goes to hit one of the buttons. "What are you doing?"

He pauses his hand and looks at him. "Uh, going back to work?"

"I admire your dedication, but you just reunited your boss with his phone so I'd say you've earned a break."

"That could be the strangest thing a boss has ever said to me," Bruce replies and lets his hand falls.

"What it actually translates to is you should meet my friend Rhodey."

"Ah…" Bruce seems confused and uncertain. "Okay…"

Tony waves off his hesitance and once off the elevator, leads him toward where the lieutenant colonel is chatting up the receptionist. Rhodey spots him from the corner of his eyes, excuses himself from the receptionist and meets them in the middle.

"Were you just ignoring me?" Rhodey asks playfully as they give each other a quick hand clasp and hug. 

"When have I ever?" Tony scoffs. "That's rhetorical by the way. I lost my phone in one of the labs and was under strict instructions to 'read over these packets, no distractions, or else I will kill you'."

"Pepper," Rhodey says with a knowing smile.

"So I didn't even notice," Tony explains. He then beams at Bruce. "But luckily the brilliant and handsome Dr. Banner here also turns out to be a total life saver. He found it. So, Rhodey, meet Bruce Banner. Bruce, this is my best friend Lt. Colonel James Rhodes."

"It's nice to meet you," Bruce holds out his hand first, "officially." Tony furrows his brow at that.

"Likewise." Rhodey shakes his hand. "You used to hang out with Betty Ross right?" 

Oh, right. Tony gives a small nod. Military work.

"Uh, yeah. Betty dragged me to some military functions as her plus one every now and then when she felt obligated to attend."

Tony furrows his brow again. "Wait. You used to attend military functions? Was I ever there?"

Bruce looks down for a moment. "We've been in the same crowd quite a few times actually, but…" He looks back up. "Same crowd doesn't really mean same circle." He shrugs indifferently enough, but Tony frowns.

"Huh. Wonder how I never noticed you." It's an earnest statement that falls from his mouth before he can filter it for possible consequence.

They look at one another for a moment before Rhodey interrupts with, "I can think of a few reasons. You have to be able to see straight for one," he jokes. Bruce flinches minutely and looks away. Tony wonders at that before looking at Rhodey to see his friend looking at him strangely in spite of his jest.

"I guess there's that," Tony agrees, but only superficially.

"You know," Bruce comes back from wherever he'd gone and looks at Rhodey, "I feel like it's my civic duty to inform you that your friend has you in his phone as Colonel Candy Cane. Just in case you weren't aware." Bruce says it with an almost mischievous smirk playing at the corners of his lips and Tony is not only pleasantly surprised, but also respects him that much more. But then for some reason the smirk falls. "Oh… oh unless…" He looks back and forth between them. "I'm sorry, is that… Are you two secretly…?" He doesn't seem to know how to ask the question and he looks flustered as he fumbles through it.

Rhodey laughs. "You think maybe he doesn't want people to know who he's secretly sending dick pics to? That it?"

"That was one time," Tony says, suddenly a little uncomfortable for reasons he can't put his finger on. It could be because Bruce looks a little uncomfortable.

"One time was traumatic enough," Rhodey teases. He then looks at Bruce. "He nicknames everyone. And then he nicknames them again. There's absolutely no end to Tony's nicknaming," Rhodey explains with a bright and patient smile. "Hang around him long enough and you'll end up with three or four too."

Tony furrows his brow. He can think of a few obvious nicknames for the physicist, but he suddenly wonders if there's even a Christmas reference he can make with Bruce's name… None immediately come to mind and that's a little frustrating. He shakes his head.

"Also his ringtone is—" Tony starts.

"Feliz Navidad," Bruce says with a soft snort. "Believe me. After the third call I noticed." Tony blinks, but then smiles. "But you have to admit, nobody would be able to figure it out with that sort of deflection. And you said yourself, you don't want anybody getting any information from your phone by accident."

Rhodey chuckles. "That's a good point," he says. "Look, I love the guy and there's a lot of things I'd be willing to do for and with Tony, like take a bullet, but that's not one of them."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "Really? So you'd die for me, but not live with me? I see how it is," he feigns offense.

"Okay, well, you know hypothetically speaking," Rhodey counters, "it wouldn't even work. I barely see you as it is, Tone. And we both know I couldn't take a three-month long furlough once a year."

"You do that?" Bruce looks at Tony with eyebrows raised.

"Uh... yes," Tony replies and glances at Rhodey. Rhodey then gives a look that plainly says he'd misjudged what kind of employee Bruce is. "But I can afford to," he explains. It's not an outright lie.

"Of course." Bruce chuckles.

"And, frankly, Tony," Rhodey picks up the previous thread quickly, "you're impossible enough to deal with as a best friend. I love you, man, but it's true."

"Fair enough."

"Not sure there's a person alive who can handle you," Rhodey continues with a laugh.

Tony pouts. "Let's not get carried away." He knows Rhodey is just teasing, but with his life rapidly changing, and his thoughts about this very topic on overdrive lately, it's not as funny today; because deep down it's not a joke to him. It's very probably true.

"There's no way that's true," Bruce chimes in just at that moment and Tony startles slightly. "I mean, I know I haven't worked for him long, but I wouldn't equate eccentricity with impossibility. Statistically speaking somebody has to be attracted to that and willing to work with it." Tony looks at him just in time to see what he thinks is the end of a small smile being checked back into a neutral line… but it could have been a trick of his eyes. "Especially if they cared about him," he finishes with a shrug.

"Well said, Dr. Banner," Rhodey says with a smile in spite of having just had his joke called out (because he is a good friend when all is said and done), and gives Bruce a look over. "You're alright. Hope you stick around to see just how wonderfully exhausting Tony here is."

Bruce glances at Tony and his expression says he doesn't know how to respond to that, but a small smile, obvious this time, betrays that he might just like that idea. Tony can't look away.

"It was good to meet you, Colonel Rhodes." Bruce looks away first and holds out his hand to Rhodey. Rhodey takes it easily.

"You too, Dr. Banner."

"Well, I should… get back to work," Bruce tells them, seeming a little awkward. He then nods and leaves. Tony watches him go.

"What was that?" Rhodey asks when it's just the two of them.

"Uh, I'm Santa not psychic. So unless you want to wait until I fetch Charles," Tony turns and looks at him, "gonna need you to be a little more specific."

"That," Rhodey emphasizes as if that's at all helpful, folding his arms. "Why did you just introduce me to him?"

"What?" Tony raises an eyebrow. "Jealous? Afraid I'm going to replace you?"

Rhodey rolls his eyes. "We're not five, Tony. Friendship isn't exclusive. You can have as many friends as you want. Knock yourself out. But that seemed more than friendly."

Tony huffs. "Look, just because I tend to spew sexual chemistry everywhere I go—"

"Seriously?" Rhodey snorts. "No, Tony. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about—" His eyes widen. "Oh, hey, Dr. Banner. Forget something?"

Halfway into the quick turn Tony's brain grasps that it was a trick, but it's too late and he's forced to face the humiliation of Rhodey splitting a gut over having gotten the better of him.

"Are you done?" Tony scowls. "I thought we weren't five," he adds.

Rhodey reigns in his laughter with his military discipline. "So what was that excuse you were giving a minute ago?"

Tony sighs. "Would you believe me if I said I honestly don't know what's going on here?" Tony asks because he doesn't.

He only knows that he likes Bruce. He wants the guy to succeed. He wants the guy to accept his magical ticket to board the crazy train known as Polar Express. He just wants him around the more time he spends with him.

But he also knows that he had been initially attracted to Bruce. He still finds him attractive – you'd have to be dumb or plain blind otherwise, he thinks. But Tony has been attracted to people before and it's never felt like this. If he had a way of describing it, it feels like he's lusting after Bruce, but also not at the same time. At least, it's not any kind of lust he's ever known before.

He lusts for his mind and all that it hides. He lusts for his company, his backstory, his humor, his laughter, his smiles… He lusts for the way Bruce speaks English. Finally, somebody speaks his language. Not the language of Santa, not the language of business socialite, but the language of Tony.

Physical lust is there, sure, but it's only one small piece of the puzzle and he's not sure how much he even trusts that piece because it's never gotten him anywhere meaningful before. He could probably will himself to be physically attracted to just about anything if he needed to, so honestly he's just really confused.

He only knows that he likes Bruce.

Chapter Text

Tony waves off Rhodey's offer to accompany him back to the tower in favor of letting his friend continue a promising conversation with their waitress. He's more than capable of walking ten blocks at night by himself and he's got SHIELD on hand in case of emergencies. Besides, he's done this for years without them. It's not like he needs Santa Secret Service. Having to deal with Barnes as a shadow the next few weeks is bad enough.

Thus, he moves out into the night air of Manhattan. It's not as late as it usually is when he hangs out with Rhodey. Usually they get dinner and then hit a bar somewhere or they hit a bar with decent enough food. But he has an early morning so he's decided to be responsible.

As he pushes through the night crowds in the city that never sleeps, his thoughts begin to turn toward his job. It's a little hard not to when he's surrounded by the ordinary people he was essentially born to make happy. It's not just the little girl who flicks her eyes up to him in wide disbelief as she passes by in a stroller, but also the two young men pushing her along. It's up to him somehow to know how to make them all happy in a way that keeps Christmas spirit alive.

If he's being honest with himself, he doesn't know how to do that. He doesn't even know why Christmas spirit is so important beyond having been told his whole life the world needs it. He glances back over his shoulder at the two men and little girl when he hears a bit of laughter; they already look so happy that there's practically a literal glow around them. Tony bites his lip and glances forward again. His head falls forward so that he watches his feet taking one step after another against the pavement. If he's being honest he's pretty sure he's not even nearly as happy as they are. So how does he make them and everyone else happy? How does he even have the right?

A familiar, rusty laugh brings Tony to a dead stop on the sidewalk and forces his head up like a whip. Not even twenty feet in front of him, Bruce is standing near the bottom of a stoop and chatting with someone in the doorway atop.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony hears him say once he comes closer. "Thanks anyway. Have a good evening." The salutation is returned and the door closed. Bruce turns and moves down the last couple of steps, not looking, only to startle to a stop, blinking wide eyes and giving an adorable, "Oh!"

Tony hopes just a tiny bit that he looks mysterious or suave or something as he stands there with hands in his pockets and smirk on his face. "Hello, Dr. Banner," he adds for effect.

He's not sure it's the effect he was going for though because Bruce purses his lips and leans away just a little as he studies him. "You're not stalking me are you, Mr. Stark?"

Tony gives a soft laugh and shakes his head. "No, but you might be surprised how often I've had to deal with that accusation."

"Not exactly what a person wants to hear," Bruce responds with a nervous chuckle.

"Well, this time it's a matter of coincidence. Just on my way back to Stark Tower from dinner with Rhodey," he explains. "Didn't expect to bump into you, but couldn't resist stopping when I noticed you coming out of…" He glances at the building behind him.

Bruce gives an expression as if confused and then turns his head to follow his gaze. "Oh, uh, right," he fumbles as if he'd actually forgotten what he'd only just been doing before their conversation. He looks back. "It's a designated safe place for runaways." Tony glances at the building again with wide eyes before they start walking side by side. "They provide shelter for youth that have either run away or have been kicked out of their homes."

"Shit." Tony can't even begin to fathom it. And he wants to do something to help somehow. What use is being Santa if he can't?

"Yeah," Bruce says, his tone rueful. "Most of them have it pretty rough. And it's better they get the support they need than living on the streets. A lot of homeless shelters won't take underage occupants without question."

"You volunteer there?" Tony guesses.

"Sometimes." Bruce nods. "Not often. It's… a little harder for me to volunteer there than some other places. But I do every now and then if they reach out with a need or… or when I just need the reminder."

Tony doesn't know if he should ask what Bruce means specifically by 'reminder' so he says, "I didn’t know those places existed. I wonder if our foundation is sponsoring any of them. I'm going to look into it."

Bruce glances sideways at him, making a quick study, before looking straight again. "I feel like I might owe you an apology, Mr. Stark."

"Okay, first of all, we're not at work. Please, call me Tony. I insist. In fact, I insist you call me Tony whenever others aren't present. I hate being called Mr. Stark. And I definitely don't expect it from my friends."

"Uh…"

"Second of all, I can't imagine you owe me any kind of apology."

Bruce clears his throat. "Um, I… Actually, I think I do. I was firmly under the impression that philanthropist was just an honorary title you had for," he clears his throat again, "being rich. For that I'm sorry."

"For lumping a guy you didn't know into a well-known group of rich people who pat themselves on their backs for making charitable donations?" Bruce turns his head, blinking. "That's nothing to apologize for. Especially since I could do more. Or I could at least be a little more hands on, although as I've said before that usually comes around the holidays."

"Okay, you're just…" Bruce shakes his head and then ducks it. "You're really not at all like I thought you would be."

"What? I thought we already discussed that I'm a lovable asshole," Tony reminds him, but he feels a tad eager to know what the physicist is thinking.

Bruce chuckles and lifts his head. "Well, yeah, that still seems true. But, I don't know." He shrugs. "I thought you were just some jerky pretty boy on a tabloid who didn't really care about using your genius."

"I was," Tony admits and Bruce looks at him.

"Okay. Maybe so, but there had to be more to you even then. In my experience, most people don't change."

"Not even if they don't have a choice?" Tony asks, latching onto Bruce's point.

Bruce furrows his brow. "Nobody can force a person to change, Tony. They can force them to do things they don't want, threaten them even. But I think the most that can happen is a person represses who they really are and it's a crapshoot how it turns out. Maybe they never do anything too horrible, or maybe they crack and do something even worse."

"So what do you say about somebody who's a shitty person, but one day ups and irrevocably stops being shitty?" Tony asks vaguely. That could apply across a wide spectrum.

"They weren't a shitty person before," Bruce answers and Tony thinks that sounds a little too simple, maybe even a little too naïve, but then again maybe it's no different than the theory about the Santa suit just being a trigger point. "They were just a confused person doing shitty things for some reason or another. Then they found out the truth about who they really are and reacted accordingly."

"I'm not sure if that's idealistic or pragmatic," Tony considers aloud as he also tries to apply it to his own situation. "Because on the one hand it implies that even the worst person has good in him that can change his behavior, given the right circumstances or other environmental factors. But on the other it implies some people are just inherently horrible and nothing can change it."

"It's probably pragmatic," Bruce says. "At least for my part. I don't know if I believe everyone is inherently good."

They walk in silence for a moment, Tony mulling over that. He's not sure what he believes either. He should probably believe everyone is inherently good since Christmas is all about goodness. But... How can he be sure? He still doesn't know what'll happen when he puts on the suit for Christmas. He still doesn't know if it's that simple. Then something dawns on him.

"So you're saying I was always a good person, I just needed to find myself?"

"It's just a theory," Bruce says, avoiding eye contact. "I didn't know you before. Maybe the tabloids had it wrong. Maybe you've always been an amazing person and I was wrong to assume otherwise based on a couple of outside sources I didn't even bother reading, let alone checking for bias." He shrugs.

Tony only hears about half of that. "You think I'm amazing?"

"Oh… Oh, I…" Bruce fumbles, stopping beside him. Tony stops and turns to look at him. Tony wonders if it's the nip in the night air or a blush that colors Bruce's cheeks. "Sorry, that probably wasn't an appropriate thing to say. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or to, to… oh god. I'm sorry."

Tony's a little flummoxed by Bruce's nervous response. "There you go apologizing for no reason again," he says and Bruce looks at him in surprise. "Why would I be uncomfortable with a compliment? My question was earnest. Very few people would readily admit how amazing I am," he says in a cheeky fashion that he hopes will put the other man at ease. "Even if I know they're thinking it."

It does the trick, startling a laugh from him. "Of course." He pauses. "But, uh, okay, yes. From the character traits you've shown and, well, your company... Sure, I think you're amazing. I maybe even hate you a little for it," he adds with his own cheeky tone.

"Most people do," Tony replies breezily. "But as far as I'm concerned, you're pretty amazing yourself there, Dr. Banner." Bruce looks at him like he doesn't believe it. "The volunteer work, your absolute brilliance, your easy going personality, your looks—" And Tony realizes he probably should have stopped while he was ahead because now he sounds like he's confessing to feelings that he hasn't even figured out yet, feelings that could muddle up what's shaping up to be a beautiful friendship. Sure enough, Bruce is looking at him uncertainly. "You seem like the complete package and I bet people hate you for it too," he finishes, hoping that sounds neutral enough, like a friendly assessment.

Bruce opens his mouth to respond, but doesn't right away. When he does it's to say, self-deprecatingly, "Well, I very highly doubt that. But thank you." Tony doesn't press for him to believe him.

"By the way," he asks when they start walking again, "why would you feel the need to apologize for a compliment, if you don't mind my nosiness? I mean, you did it with Steve that one time too."

"Well, I... That is... You never know when someone's going to take it the wrong way."

"A compliment?" Tony still isn't sure what he means.

Bruce sighs. "You know how men can be. Especially if they know or suspect."

Tony's eyes go wide and he turns his head sideways. Bruce notices and meets his look in a tentative fashion, but only for a second before looking away again as if guilty. Tony had suspected of course, or maybe the part of him that lusted after him physically had hoped, but now he's all but gotten outright confirmation.

"I assure you I am not one of those men," Tony tells him, looking off at nothing in the distance.  From the corner of his eye he sees Bruce tilt his head in his direction just a little. "But I guess I understand your self-preservation. Or, your hetero-sensitivity. Whichever it is that motivates you. I get it since I'm not only not one of those men," he pauses before continuing very deliberately, "I'm the one that makes those men freak out because, unlike you, I'll hit on a good-looking guy first and then face the no homo consequences after the fact." He looks back at Bruce to see him looking at him like he's genuinely surprised. "But you know that right? You practically accused me of sending dick pics to my best friend."

"Oh god," Bruce winces and looks away quickly, "I did do that. I'm sorry. That was—"

"Your intuition trying to tell you something," Tony says with a flippant laugh. "I'm most certainly not straight. In fact, I probably fall a little closer to your side of the spectrum than the middle so you definitely don't have to worry about making me feel uncomfortable. But I also appreciate the irony since I'm usually the one making others uncomfortable. It's a nice change for someone to think it could be the other way around," he jokes and Bruce offers him a smile

They walk for about a block in a companionable silence. Near the end of the block a boy of about five is standing with a woman as she attempts to hail a taxi. When Tony realizes he's watching them, or him, he can't help but offer him the Santa smile. The boy practically lights up with wide eyes and an excited smile in return. Tony adds a wink, feeling suddenly more jovial than before, as he passes.

Tony feels Bruce's eyes on him and tilts his head enough for Bruce to see him raise an eyebrow. "That… That was really sweet," he says, and looks like he's trying to will away a bout of sheepishness. "Kids really do love you, don't they?"

Tony smiles again, a little softer at the edges. "A lot of them seem to, yes," he answers honestly. Bruce gives a very small, crooked smile in return. Tony finds he can't help himself from blurting, "So, the night's still young. You maybe want to get a drink?" When Bruce flinches and looks away quickly Tony realizes belatedly that he's gone and done the thing where he makes someone uncomfortable. Considering their previous conversation, it probably sounds like a sudden opportunistic come on. He stops and Bruce pulls up beside him. "As friends," he clarifies even if it makes something unpleasant lurch in his stomach.

Bruce furrows his brow for half a second. "Oh, you thought I was… no, that's not it. I didn't think—" He huffs in exasperation, most likely with himself by the sounds of it and his expression. Then he shakes his head and tries again, "I'm not much of a drinker."

"Ah." Tony thinks he understands now. "You mean you're not fond of what drinking can do to people." Bruce glances down and then gives a very small shrug. "I'm really not a drunk," Tony defends himself just in case. Bruce glances back up. "I noticed you flinched when Rhodey was talking about my tendency to become a bit of a happy lush... and okay I had some issues in the past, but I'm really not—" He cuts himself off when he realizes Bruce is looking at him strangely, like a mixture of confusion and amusement and uncertainty and even gratitude. He's not sure how to respond to that look or how to continue so he goes with, "So, no alcoholic drinks. How do you feel about cafés? I never turn down coffee. Or a good hot cocoa," he adds indulgently because it's true and it doesn't hurt anything for Bruce to know.

Bruce blinks. "Cocoa is good," he starts in a tentative tone, and Tony checks the reflex smile that might make the physicist suspicious regarding such an unnecessary reaction. "And I'm actually more of a tea person than coffee," he continues, like he's mulling over the invitation. "But you've mentioned your crazy schedule a couple of times. Don't you have an early morning to consider?"

"Yeah," Tony says with a huff. "But I don't think another hour is going to do any harm. Unless... you know, you have somewhere you need to be or just want to get home. Or this is your way of saying take a hint," he adds teasingly, but it's probably good to make sure he's not annoying Bruce by hanging around all the time. Maybe he's just being nice to the boss.

"Hmm? Huh? Me? No... I don't... I don't have anything else..." He furrows his brow. "So... Um, yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice."

❄

"This was not a good idea," Bruce mumbles to Tony’s left as they listen to a couple of scientists discuss Dr. Octavian's lecture on solar energy. He turns away from the discussion to see Bruce looking like he might be ill and follows his sour gaze until his own eyes land on the two people coming their way.

"Ugh, this is going to be doubly painful," Tony agrees with a frown. Not only is General Ross coming their way, he's joined by his new weapons-darling, and another guy Tony can't stand, Justin Hammer of Hammer Tech. "You can duck out real quick if you'd like," he offers in a hushed tone. "I can make your excuses."

"I..." He hesitates, but then Ross locks eyes on him. Bruce visibly pales and his fists clench at his sides. Tony places a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "That might be for the best," he says with a nod and gives Tony a pitiful sort of grateful expression before leaving.

Tony watches him go, concerned for him, but then lets that concern turn to indignation for his friend. He turns his head sharply to look at Ross as the two men finally reach him. The general looks like he doesn't know whether to be  smug about the fact he's scared Bruce off or furious that Bruce has retreated before he could mess with his psyche even more. And, damn, that rankles Tony all the more.

"Welcome to the CEO side of life, Tony," Hammer greets, falsely chipper and nasal. "We've all been wondering when Howard would trust you with the company. Of course, I'm sure he had good reason to hold off as long as he did. I guess it's a good thing he's as spry as he is."

Tony barks out a fake laugh. "Oh, he's spry all right. But in actuality, Howard Stark is a control freak."

"Well, then he's probably gnawing at his leash knowing you've already tainted the company with your bizarre hiring choices."

Tony narrows his eyes. "Sometimes I swear it's like you're speaking gibberish."

"Come now, Mr. Stark," Ross interjects gruffly. "Everyone is aware of your hiring Dr. Banner." The man glances quickly in the direction Bruce had gone before glancing back. "And it shows a lack of sound judgment on your part."

"First of all," Tony clips, "my hiring him was never intended to be a secret. Hence, the reason he's here. Actually, you know in fact, I'm gloating because all of the so-called geniuses in this building weren't able to sink their claws into him first. Which brings us to second of all: I'm not the one here lacking sound judgment. Dr. Banner is brilliant and he doesn't lack conviction, two things I happen to admire in a man or woman. So if that's all you came over here to say then I think we're done here."

"Mr. Stark," Ross grouses, "that man is a criminal who cost the military billions of dollars and got away with just a measly slap on the wrist—"

"Slap on the wrist?" Tony bristles. "You really believe that, don't you? Look, I saw the case report. I wouldn't call relinquishing all intellectual property and selling most of his worldly possessions against his ridiculous fines a slap on the wrist. The man had to start from scratch and then on top of it had to deal with finding a different career field thanks to assholes like you sullying his name. You know what—"

Tony takes a step forward in confrontation, but when Ross goes to match it they're suddenly waylaid by the intervention of the Santa's bodyguard. Tony's irate enough that it takes a moment before he lets Barnes separate them.

"I think it would be best if you didn't provoke Mr. Stark again with all due respect, General," Barnes says brusquely.

When Ross refuses to back down and becomes even grumpier, so does Barnes. Tony rolls his eyes because this is precisely why he thinks the whole Santa bodyguard thing is a little ridiculous, or at least with someone like Bucky. He huffs and shakes his head before turning to go find the only person who can keep this from turning into an actual scene – and seriously, people get onto him?

"Hey, Steve," he says when he finds him and the other man turns to look at him curiously, although giving his gentlemanly excuses to the person he'd been chatting with first. "You maybe wanna call off the guard dog?"

Steve furrows his brow and then looks past him toward the scene Tony left. He sighs in fond exasperation, but then gives Tony a small glare. "Don't call him that."

Tony raises his hands in surrender. "Whatever. Just go get your man before General Ross has an aneurysm and presses charges." Steve's glare turns into a scowl. Tony counters it with a placating smile. "Then after that why don't you two go back to the hotel and make the most of it on my dime. In case you're not getting the point, get lost. I don't need him hanging around. Ded Moroz can handle himself."

"Fine," Steve backs down and starts towards Barnes.

"Wait, you happen to see which way Bruce went?"

Steve raises an eyebrow, but only says, "Yeah. Think he went to the bar."

Tony's eyes widen. If Bruce isn't a drinker, that can't be good. Tony quickly makes his way over to the bar. Sure enough Bruce is there with two empty martini glasses in front of him and a third in hand. He knocks it back, wincing and coughing as he does, and then sets it down. He shakes his head and mutters something Tony can't hear. Tony casually moves to stand beside him. Bruce flinches, but then drops his head.

"I hate that man. He… He ruined my life," Bruce chokes out in a bitter tone. "Everything. I fucking lost everything." Bruce looks at him with wide, desperate eyes that are starting to look a little watery. "All of my work. All of those years working on… on a way to help people. I… I lost it all." His voice cracks. "I destroyed it all and for what? They still have my research to do exactly what they want with. I hate him," Bruce growls and then chokes on a sudden sob.

Tony catches his absolutely broken expression before he turns his head away and something tells Tony that there's a sad, unmerited, 'I hate me' underlying his distress. Tony has the urge to do anything at all to make it go away. He's never wished he knew how to use his Santa skills to do just that more than he does right now.

Another martini is set down on the bar, no doubt Bruce having made the request to keep them coming, and he reaches for it, but Tony snags it out of his hand with a, "Huh-uh." Bruce shoots an offended look his way. "This one's mine," Tony says and knocks it back with ease. "And you're cut off. Come on," he says, grabbing Bruce's arm and dragging him along with him.

"What?" Bruce sputters. "Come where?"

"Away from temptation. Friends don't let friends that don't drink get drunk."

"Tony," Bruce pleads, "I just… Let me go. I just want to forget, Tony." Tony feels Bruce pull a little in the opposite direction. He stops and sees the way Bruce is looking back in the direction of the bar. "That's the only way to forget. I've tried everything else and nothing works."

Tony knows he's on the verge of losing him, or creating an unwanted scene, so he casts his eyes around trying to think of what to say or do. His eyes widen when he sees the small makeshift dance floor near the live band and he pulls Bruce toward it.

"Tony, stop. To—" Bruce stops abruptly, eyes wide and surprised, when Tony deftly pulls him into his arms for a dance. The slightly glossy look of them read with renewed clarity, the despondent physicist no doubt startled back to reality by Tony's unexpected move.

"I doubt you've tried everything," Tony counters and begins a swaying motion; Bruce allows it and sways along. "And take it from someone who knows, alcohol only works for a little while. And if you don't already like drinking I'm willing to bet you'll hate yourself more when it does stop. And…" He twists his lips, second-guessing for a fraction of a second before going for broke. "And I don't want to see that happen to you," he tells him with an intent look. He shakes his head once. "You don't deserve it."

Bruce suddenly looks wounded, his eyes wrenching shut and his head falling. He shakes it several times. "You don't know what I deserve. I'm not a good person. I don't help people because I want to. I just want to forget my troubles. I just don't want to… I don't want to get that low again. So I have to do something. God, I should have just built that weapon for him. I'm… I'm fooling myself. And I'm fooling you. I'm not amazing, Tony. I deserve what I got."

"Hey." Tony moves his hand from around Bruce and tilts his head back up by his chin, meeting a self-loathing expression that only makes Tony that much more determined to fix this somehow. There's a protest on Bruce's slightly parted lips, but before he can speak it, Tony continues. "The only thing you deserve is to believe." The protest dies, Bruce's lips shutting as he gives a stunned blink. "You deserve to believe in yourself, Bruce. You deserve to believe you're an amazing person that's way more resilient than you're giving yourself credit for. I don't presume to know everything you've gone through, but I don't need to know to see that. And…" Tony fixes his eyes on Bruce's searching ones. "And if you can't believe in yourself then believe in me." Bruce's eyes narrow, searching his face more intensely as if looking for the answer Tony is withholding. It makes Tony swallow hard. "Because I believe in you, Bruce. And if you can believe in me, maybe you'll understand why I do. Maybe you'll figure out why you should believe in yourself."

"How can you believe in me, Tony?" Bruce asks, voice low and wracked with emotion. He gives a broken huff of a bitter laugh, ducking his head and then looking back up again with a thin, rueful smile. "You barely know me."

The statement knocks him for a loop and Tony realizes with a sudden, almost blinding clarity that he feels like he's known Bruce his whole life. It doesn't feel like he's getting to know Bruce; it feels like they were already best friends and they've just happened to finally cross paths again. It's not a matter of how could Tony believe in him, it's a matter of how could he not when it's like there's always been a place in his life reserved just for him.

"I believe in you, Bruce," Tony repeats and Bruce seems startled by the conviction in his voice. "And I want you to believe in me too," Tony says, and he's leaning in a little too close now, but he can't pull away, doesn't want to. "Bruce, I'm S—"

"Oh my god, Bruce! You're really here!"

Tony is broken from his reverie, blinking wide in realization of what he'd almost done. And all the things more in his mind that he'd wanted to do that had nothing at all to do with outing himself. Bruce is blinking too, a hint of confusion on his face before he turns his head in the direction the interruption had come. Then he becomes genuinely exuberant and Tony watches as he goes over to the woman, Betty Ross. Tony tries to be polite as he's pulled into the reunion with her, but all he can think about is how disappointed he is.

And truth be told, he's not sure if he's more disappointed that he hadn't leaned in and kissed Bruce while he'd had the chance or that Bruce still doesn't know who he really is.

Chapter Text

Pepper knocks on Tony's office door to offer a good night at the end of the work day only to then march into his office with a firm, "Alright, that's it. I'm declaring an intervention."

"That's nice, Pep," he says dismissively and since she'd broken him from his wandering thoughts he decides to try and focus on the report he's been attempting to read all afternoon.

"Really? That's it? That's all you've got?" Pepper challenges and he looks at her with a furrowed brow. "You've been moping since you got back from the conference," she says. "What's going on with you? I'm starting to get a little concerned."

"I'm fine," Tony dismisses her again. He's not fine, but he's not about to get into it with her. Or anyone.

Pepper crosses her arms and fixes him with an unimpressed frown. "The last time you said 'I'm fine' you bought a donut…" She swings her head condescendingly. "…shop."

"Those donuts were there for me in a very dark time. Least I could do. Those donut makers deserve sainthood for doing God's work with yeast and sugar."

Pepper rolls her eyes and then unfolds her arms. "Tony, are you overwhelmed? Phil said this might happen. You've just gotten back from two weeks on the road, a major conference and you've only got a couple of weeks left to get everything in order before you transition to the Santa side of things."

"Well, thanks for that reminder," Tony mumbles in all earnest. He hadn't really been thinking about that since his mind had been absorbed with different 'being Santa sucks' thoughts, but now that she's mentioned it, yeah he'll probably add that to the mix too.

"Maybe you should see the SHIELD therapist," she suggests. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm sure your dad felt the same way when he first took over." Tony snorts because that's doubtful. "You don't have to do this alone."

"Don't I!?" Tony blurts out and she blinks and tilts her head. He wishes he could take it back, but it's out there now. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I'm living a fractured life, Pepper. And I'm just a little tired of it at the moment."

"Oh." Tony opens his eyes to see a knowing look on her face. "This is about Dr. Banner, isn't it? I notice you haven't been visiting him, but I thought it might be because you were busy moping and pushing all of us out like you usually do." She raises an eyebrow. "But it's him specifically?"

Tony sighs. She won't let up if he tries to clam up so he admits, "I think I came onto him at the convention." It's all he's thought about since that moment. He's only run into Bruce once since they'd gotten back and that had been awkward, which was why he decided it was good to go on avoiding him.

Without even missing a beat she replies, "Again?"

He furrows his brow. "What do you mean again?"

Pepper's eyes widen for a second before she breaks out into riotous giggles. She laughs so hard that she falls back into the chair in front of his desk. "Oh… oh my god," she says around her laughter. "You can't be serious?" He doesn't respond and finally she stops laughing and catches her breath, although a few more snickers escape as she does. "Tony, you've been coming onto him since the man walked through this door. The only thing I can figure is Dr. Banner is a. afraid to say anything to HR b. oblivious as rocks or c. okay with your advances, either because they don't bother him or he likes them."

"Okay, is nobody allowed to become great friends with a person anymore?" Tony lifts his hands in exasperation. "Why do you assume I've been coming onto him just because I was intent on getting to know him?"

"Fair enough," Pepper says with a nod. "So then I'll just ask. Are you attracted to him?"

Tony blinks. "Well, okay, sure, but—"

"Since?"

"Why does that matter?"

She rolls her eyes and asks slowly, punctuating just about every word, "Have you been attracted to him since he walked through this door?"

Tony huffs. "Okay, yes," he admits. "But I have eyes, Pepper," he adds in a belligerent tone. "You can't sit there and tell me you don't find him at least a little attractive, objectively speaking."

"That's not what I asked, Tony. I asked if you're attracted to him."

"I—" Tony's eyes widen and he sits back in his oversized armchair – because of course Santa has an oversized office chair, thank you very much – completely flummoxed as the epiphany hits him. His lust for Bruce had never been strictly friendly. It was never a matter of liking Bruce, but always on some level a matter of liking Bruce. "I've been interested in dating him pretty much since the beginning, haven't I?" She just shrugs, but he knows she means it as an obviously. "I'm such an idiot."

"I'd say more like relationship-challenged?" Pepper offers.

"Well, if I wasn't sure avoiding Bruce before wasn't the right thing to do then now I know it is," he says with a sigh. "And for the record avoiding him sucks. Hence the moping apparently."

"Okay, I take it back. You're an idiot," Pepper says and looks at him in disbelief. "Most people don't avoid the people they're interested in unless they've got a good reason to. Has he given you any good reason to?"

"Uh, not outright no, but—"

"Then shouldn't that be taken as a positive sign that maybe he's interested too?"

Tony is overcome by a wave of indignation and pushes away from his chair. "Interested in who, huh?" He throws up his hands as he looms over the desk slightly. "How can he be interested in me? He barely knows me!" Tony blinks when he recognizes Bruce's argument to him at the conference. "Oh my god." He raises his hand to cover his eyes. "I think I get it now."

Tony marches out of his office without any further explanation offered in answer to Pepper's confused expression. Tony's feet naturally take him to Bruce's department. He's not sure what he can say, he's not even sure if Bruce will even be there since it's the end of the typical business day and scientists keep unusual hours in general, but Tony needs to at least see him if he can. After going days of not seeing him, and with the overwhelming realization of why it makes him miserable, Tony can't deprive himself another moment longer.

Tony enters the lab that Bruce mainly works in and casts his eyes around. None of the other scientists seem to be there, but then his eyes land on Bruce. Tony's eyebrows go up at the sight of him sat on the couch in the lab's lounge, his legs pulled under him and eyes closed. He looks like he's in a meditative state.

Tony doesn't announce himself right away. Instead he takes a casual walk around the lab to overlook some of the projects in process. There's a simulation currently running that Tony guesses to be what Bruce is working on. Glancing over it and the nearby notes he's surprised to find Bruce is looking for a way to improve the company's patented intelli-crops, but it's a pleasant surprise.

"Theoretically this would increase crop yield by about thirty percent. That's unbelievable."

"They'll also be more resistant to detrimental outside factors like weather and pestilence," Bruce replies in an unusual tone. Tony hears hesitance and neutrality both. "That's the hope anyway."

Tony looks back in Bruce's direction and finds the physicist studying him. "Seems worth looking into," Tony agrees. "Now I'm eager to find out how this first simulation turns out. Mind if I hang around? Or am I interrupting your Zen?"

"Is the boss actually asking if he can hang around?" Bruce quirks an eyebrow.

Tony chuckles softly. "When you put it that way… But, yes, I am. I'm well aware of the sacred solitude of science."

Bruce finally gives a chuckle too. "That's a lot of S's."

"Well, S is for Stark."

"Ah," Bruce tones in amusement. "You can hang around. You're not ruining my Zen. I'm not as on edge as I was earlier." He shrugs, looking away.

Tony wonders what had the man on edge in the first place, but he doesn't ask. "You know," he says instead, "I'm not even a little surprised you do the whole Zen thing in general."

"Yes, well, this is my preferred way of working through a problem when there's no other way of taking my mind off of it." In a quieter voice he adds, "Makes more sense than alcohol. Less messy this way."

"Wait," Tony studies him, "are you still upset about that?" Bruce doesn't look at him and doesn't answer so Tony continues. "You barely got tipsy, Bruce. There's no reason to beat yourself up about it."

"Oh sure," Bruce snorts derisively, "nothing at all. Because I didn't behave like a petulant child in front of my boss. Oh, and all after I rolled over like a cowardly dog the second I saw Ross too. Don't forget that. I don't know why you insist on being so nice to me after all of that. I figured you would have politely shown me to the curb by now. I even thought—" He cuts himself off. "Never mind what I thought," he mumbles.

"Did you think I've been avoiding you because of a little liquid fortitude?" Tony guesses. "Seriously?" Bruce turns to look at him and he doesn't have to answer. Tony sees it on his face. Tony crosses over to where Bruce sits. "Look, I am the last person to judge a person based on how he acts after he's gotten a little alcohol into his system."

"How do you know it was just the alcohol?" Bruce challenges. "Maybe that was all me."

"I'm willing to bet it was," Tony says, breezy and unaffected. Bruce looks up at him in surprise. "You have every right to hate that bastard and you have every right to get a little petulant about it. You have every right to try to drown those feelings. As it stands I think you've been way too gracious about it." He shrugs. "But I'm not exactly the best moral character to aspire to."

Bruce sighs, a defeated sound, and glances away. "I just get so tired of being angry."

"Then be happy instead." Bruce glances back quickly in askance. "I'm not in any position to doll out that advice either, but Ross doesn't have any real control over your happiness unless you give it to him. Sure, he stole things that made you happy, I get that, but you can find new things that make you happy. Does helping make you happy? If not, why do you do it? For some kind of penance? You know, contrary to popular belief, you don't actually get onto Santa's nice list just by doing nice things to counter the naughty ones and there are a lot of 'naughty' things you can do without being banned from the nice list."

"That…" Bruce scrunches his face. "…is a very strange way of putting it."

Tony only realizes what he's said after Bruce points it out. Oh well. Maybe Bruce will just go on thinking it's a bizarre analogy so he barrels on. "The point is do what makes you happy. If Zen is your thing, I don't know, build yourself a garden. Take up a hobby. Do some traveling. Adopt a pet if you don't have one. Or find a nice man first and then adopt a pet or some kids with him," Tony says and then immediately wishes he could take that particular suggestion back, especially with how Bruce suddenly meets his eyes directly. Tony holds the gaze. Then, with a swallow, he adds, "Hell, if you're not even happy working here then don't. Do what you want. What do you think I meant when I said I believe in you?"

Bruce's mouth opens and hangs there for a moment before closing again, and the process repeats a couple more times so that he looks a little bit like a fish. Finally, he licks his lip slowly and says, "You think I'm not happy working here?" Tony can only shrug. "The last couple of months have been better than I thought I could have again, Mr. Stark. I love working here." He licks his lips again and looks down at his hands, Tony follows the movement and sees him wringing them slightly. "But a lot of that has been your doing," he says in a tentative tone. "Maybe why I was a little worried I'd…" He looks up again and Tony has to fight every urge in his body to reach down, grab Bruce by his face and drag him up into a searing kiss. "I thought maybe I'd made you rethink our, um, friendship."

Tony smiles at the word. Even if he's certain he'd like more than that he's just happy to know Bruce considers them friends at least. So much to the point that he'd been worried he'd lost that friendship.

"Trust me, Bruce," Tony says, "it's not that." He sighs and it dampens his smile to something a little more rueful. "If I've seemed distant since the conference it has nothing to do with that. Or with you. My life is just very complicated."

"I know," Bruce says and stands to his feet. "I know, really, I… I was probably a little ridiculous for thinking it was about me." He snorts and shakes his head. "A Fortune 500 CEO like you probably has a ton of way more pressing things on his mind than something as insignificant as what happened at the conference."

How does Tony tell him that the conference is one of the only things that's been on his mind? How does he tell him that it was far from insignificant? How does he tell him that he knows how he feels now? How does he tell him anything without telling him everything?

"You'd be surprised," he says, but it's far from enough. So he sighs and starts to ask, "Do you ever—"

There's an alarm from the other side of the room indicating the simulation has finished. Bruce blinks a few times and then says, "Hold that thought." He crosses the lab and Tony turns, following him with his eyes. He watches in silence as Bruce pores over the data. "Well, damn," Bruce breaks the silence with a curse and shake of his head. Tony moves to look over the data as well. "Looks like it would make the crops far too vulnerable to flooding. That's… definitely not good."

"And the other areas?" Tony asks, skimming over the data as he stands beside Bruce.

Bruce adjusts his glasses and leans over slightly to scroll through the report. "Um, I think common pestilence resistance was higher than before by… four percent," he says. He straightens back up. "And the resistance in drought is through the roof. It's like one hundred and twenty-seven percent greater than before," he says with a dry chuckle.

Tony laughs too. "Well, I bet it would be if the crops aren't interested in a heavy downpour. So unless we're going to test these crops in a desert…" Tony lets that sentence trail, furrowing his brow. "Huh. You know what. That's not necessarily a bad idea. No need to scrap this completely yet. Maybe you've hit on a germination sequence that would actually thrive in arid climates."

"That seems fairly improbable," Bruce replies, but Tony can see the contrary curiosity in his eyes at the prospect.

"Don't know unless we test it. So, unless you have anything else you need to be getting off to—" He pauses abruptly and Bruce raises an amused eyebrow at him. Tony clears his throat. "Unless you have somewhere else you need to be why don't we start another simulation, narrowing the proposed markers to those consistent with arid climates and… then maybe we can go grab some dinner while it runs."

Bruce studies him for a moment, a moment that stretches on for an eternity, before giving a thin half smile. "Dinner and science. Almost sounds like the perfect date." Tony's eyes widen and he wants to blurt out something obnoxious like 'hell yes' but before he can Bruce ducks his head and says, "Uh, at least that's always been my nerdy idea of a perfect date." He gives a small huff of a laugh, nervous sounding, and leans over the computer to start inputting the new data for the simulation, which Tony takes to mean he's agreed to the plan. "And now that I think about it, that probably explains why I've spent most of my life very single."

"Pity to the fools," Tony replies. "Because that absolutely sounds like the perfect date."

As it turns out it feels like the perfect date too. They go to dinner and spend the time making up for Tony's self-imposed separation with all of the conversation and laughter that Tony had been missing and moping about it. Then when they get back to the lab one hour turns into two and two into three as they become enthusiastic about the intelli-crops project and then start working on another project, seemingly unable to stop. It's like an intricate and intimate dance and Tony realizes how right Selvig had been to suggest Bruce would be someone he works well with; they're practically involved in a science ballet where they've already figured out how best to work in tandem with the other.

Of course, they never clarify if it really is a date. Tony thinks of it as a date, he can't help it, but he's also certain Bruce isn't as bold and presumptuous. He may not even want to consider it a more-than-friendly thing, Tony reasons, and he won't push to find out for certain since there's still the very pesky secret of Santa looming over any hypothetical romance. But even that pesky secret can't dampen the mood of the night, because Tony gets it now.

Even if he's presenting himself to Bruce under false pretenses, nothing could be further from the truth. Rather it feels like this man who barely knows him somehow knows him better than anyone else. Bruce doesn't have to know every single nuance and detail of Tony's life for him already to have the uncanny ability to say the things that get through to Tony, to do the things that get to Tony, to be someone who just gets Tony. It's overwhelming and confusing and Tony has a sneaking, hopeful, suspicion that Bruce at the very least feels that way about him too.

Maybe he's playing with fire by ignoring the very real threat the secret of Santa poses. After all, there's more than just the half-truths now. There's also the very possible reality that if Bruce is brought up to R&D and given the opportunity to work for Santa, he could totally freak out and refuse. It's happened before. Just because a person's eyes are magically opened to the truth once they're given access to the metaphorical North Pole, it doesn't mean every single person wants that terrible privilege. If Bruce were to refuse it would be just as much a hard blow to Tony and any hypothetical romance.

But then Bruce goes and says something dry and Tony laughs and he realizes he couldn't stay away from the other man any sooner than he could just stop being Santa. Bruce already feels like an inherent part of his existence; Tony can't stop the way he's drawn to the reserved man with soft smiles and brown eyes and an interest in philanthropic science.

Then out of nowhere the bomb Coulson had warned him about goes off when Tony casually extends a package and asks, "Blueberry?" in one breath and in the next asks, "What if I was Santa Claus?"

Tony freezes, as does Bruce mid-reach for a blueberry. Granted because Tony had posed it as a question and not a direct statement of his identity it technically doesn't qualify as an admission of the secret; thus, no magic is activated. Still, Tony waits with bated breath as Bruce looks at him like he's processing the question. Finally, his expression turns incredulous and he smiles crookedly at Tony like he thinks Tony has perhaps entered the sleep-drunk phase of a science bender.

"What if you were Santa Claus?" He echoes before taking a couple of blueberries and popping them into his mouth. Tony promptly sets the package aside. "Huh. That's an interesting concept," he says as he looks back at one of the monitors, fiddling with his glasses as he does. "You're exactly the opposite of how most people envision Santa…" Bruce's sentence trails and he furrows his brow. For a moment he looks as though he's lost in his own world. When he comes back, he shakes his head. "That is most normal people would never believe you could be Santa because you're not fat and jolly and old. And I'm fairly certain the Tony Stark persona is the opposite of Santa's, no offense," he says, adding an apologetic smile at the end.

Tony gives a nervous laugh. "Right. Right, of course." Then, because everyone is right about him not knowing how to quit while he's ahead, he baits, "But if they were wrong?"

Bruce glances at him, blinking and pursing his lips. Then he shrugs in a way that suggests he's willing to humor Tony. "Well, I for one would be okay with it," he answers as he moves to another screen several feet away from the station they're currently at. Tony only turns to watch him, embarrassingly pleased with Bruce's initial response. "That might sound strange, but you see when I was a kid, the idea of Santa as everyone else saw him didn't make any sense to me."

"It didn't?"

"Hmm-mm. I didn't believe in him for long, but even after I stopped believing in him," Bruce returns to looking at the monitor and manipulating something on it, "I still had this sort of whimsical notion I couldn't shake whenever the topic came up at Christmas time." He snorts and shakes his head. "I figured if Santa were real then the movies and media probably have it all wrong. What if all the stuff we try to explain away as magic is really just advanced science? What if Santa knows how to open portals and uses an advanced algorithm to figure out the boys and girls that deserve presents? That sort of thing. So," he shrugs and chuckles, "I'd say Santa Claus actually being a shrewd genius wouldn't be all that shocking to me."

Tony can't chuckle with him. He can't even breathe. There's a feeling of warmth spreading through his chest and a dizzy feeling not unlike he'd felt when he found out Bruce likes kids. The warmth feels right and better than anything he's ever felt before and for a brief moment Bruce looks like he's surrounded by a faint green glow that Tony doesn't quite get a chance to process before it's gone again and the only thing screaming in Tony's mind is—

I am Santa Claus.

Bruce spins around in absolute panic and Tony winces, realizing he had actually said that out loud. The magic has been activated that allows Bruce to see him for who he is.

"Oh my god…" Bruce looks down and around and then back up at him, eyes widening. "Oh my god! This can't be happening. You… You're…" Bruce's hand comes up to his face and he looks like he's been betrayed rather than let in on the biggest conspiracy in the history of conspiracies, and damn it that's exactly what Tony had been afraid of. "You're Santa and you… you… I don't understand!"

Then, Bruce suddenly looks angry and Tony remembers oh yeah this guy hates being lied to and may not be the kind you want to make feel threatened.

"Bruce, just… Calm down," Tony urges, raising his hands in a nonthreatening gesture. "What do you do to Zen? Deep breaths? Let's just do some deep breaths together."

"Sir," JARVIS interrupts, and Tony momentarily regrets having upgraded the interface of the tower to allow the AI access everywhere, "the Secret of Santa alarm has been triggered and SHIELD has been alerted. Coulson is demanding that you remove yourself to R&D immediately. And because he suspects you are the one who spilled the secret he said bring Dr. Banner with you. Director Fury is on his way."

Tony sighs and focuses his attention on Bruce. The physicist is still standing there in wide-eyed alarm. But he's also taking deep breaths in and out so maybe that's a good sign he's listening.

"Bruce, I know I lied to you," Tony starts, "and I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry that I told you my secret even though as you just heard, telling without permission is kind of a big deal. I'm not sorry because I don't want to lie to you anymore so, please, just… I need…" He pauses and looks intently at Bruce. "I need you to trust me."

"I don't know if I can," Bruce says evenly. "This is too much."

"I know it is. I know." Tony raises his hands in a placating manner. "But I need you to just forget about that weird overwhelming feeling of your whole life being a lie," he still remembers poignantly when he was six and he learned that Santa and dad were one and the same, "and Santa actually being real and standing right in front of you—"

"Is this supposed to help?" Bruce asks with a huff of a laugh that Tony takes as another good sign.

"I don't know. This is my first time," he answers with a small chuckle of his own. "Look, I just need you to forget all of that for a moment and just try and believe in me." Bruce's eyes widen again, no doubt recalling the conference. "Not Santa, not Tony Stark. Just Tony. Just the guy you've been hanging out with the past couple of months. I swear, other than omitting the fact that I'm Santa, I'm still that guy. Actually, I feel like I'm more that guy than Santa, but I didn't choose the job I got saddled with." Tony pauses. "Helping yet?"

Bruce glances away. "I don't know. But do I even have a choice in going up there with you?" He glances back, expression scrutinizing.

Tony closes his eyes and presses fingers to them. He could let Bruce hurry off. Try to help him make a break for it and trust him and part of him wants to, but he knows it would just complicate matters. He lets his hand fall, sighing as it does. "No." He opens them again. "But once you get up there, you have a choice in what you do with the secret."

Chapter Text

"What were you thinking, Stark?" Fury snaps at him. Bruce is in another room with Coulson going over the situation the physicist has found himself in and Tony really wishes he were there instead of here. "You couldn't have waited two weeks? You could have ignored any advice we gave you to the contrary and invited him on up to R&D, but no, you had to go and corner the guy and spill your guts to him."

"What difference does two weeks really make?" Tony counters dubiously.

"It might surprise you, but a lot sometimes," Fury drawls. "We have a system for a reason. You've possibly just blown any chance of Dr. Banner coming to work for us!" Tony scowls at the warning. "And that's a damn shame because the guy's teleportation models alone could have moved our operation forward by years. Oh," he laughs mockingly, "and I hope you didn't find him a valuable asset to Stark Industries because if he wants out we're probably going to have to send the guy to Kolkata, or hell Asgard, in order to—"

"Like hell you will!" Tony cuts him off and squares his shoulders. "I swear, Fury, if you ruin that man's life I will abdicate."

"Come again?" Fury looks at him with more incredulity than usual.

Tony takes a deep breath. Obviously he's been known for his rash decisions and for chasing impulses, but he's never felt so strongly about anything before in his entire crazy life than protecting Bruce Banner. If it's Santa's job to make people happy then he'll stop at nothing to make good on that job where Bruce is concerned.

"If you so much as do anything more than just erase the parts of his memories after I told him and replace them with happy memories of him calling it a night on the project and going home, you'll lose me too," Tony says firmly and stares the Director down.

"What is this, Stark?" Fury asks in a belligerent tone.

"I'd say it's fairly obvious, sir," Clint interjects. "Tony has it bad for this guy."

Fury's one eye studies him almost too intrusively. "That true, Stark?"

"Am I interested in this guy?" Tony asks, rephrasing Clint's assumption. "Yes. That's why it spilled out. I've hated lying to him since and I guess I just couldn't do it anymore."

Fury sighs in exasperation. "Two weeks. Two weeks. You couldn't have gone two more weeks?"

"No, I couldn't have apparently. It's probably a miracle I went this long." Clint, Natasha and even Bucky – who'd been summoned as a precaution – snort. Steve just sighs like he doesn't know what to do with any of it. "But I'm glad it came out this way," Tony argues. "I'm not even remotely sorry for spilling the precious secret to someone I respect. Two more weeks and it would have been a business arrangement. And that's not what I want. Even as just his friend, I want there to be honesty."

Fury turns and walks several feet away. "Which is exactly why there's no way the guy can stay here if he decides he doesn't want anything to do with your precious secret. Clearly you can't keep your mouth shut around him."

Tony bristles. "If it means keeping him at Stark Industries and happy, I swear I won't tell him again. I'll stop talking to him if I have to," he says, but his stomach falls at the prospect now that he knows how miserable that'll make him – and maybe Bruce too. He sighs. "Look, Fury, this guy has had all kinds of assholes in his life and I don't want to be one of them. I didn't set out to tell him, you know? I wanted to, sure, but I've wanted to lots of times and have stopped myself. But this time… This time he was talking about how he used to envision Santa and it's like… it's like he's been envisioning me this whole time." He's still a little dizzy thinking about it. "My chest did this weird thing where it was all warm and fuzzy and then it got a little trippy because Bruce was glowing green. Next thing you know, no more secret."

Fury turns on his heel quickly and the others look at him like he's crazy.

"Maybe it was a Santa orgasm," Tony hears Natasha mutter in Clint's ear and a wry smile spreads across the man's face.

"Glowing green?" Steve's tone is dubious as he addresses the weirder part of Tony's confession. He shares an equally dubious glance with Barnes beside him.

"How long?" Fury asks instead and then the others turn their heads sharply in confusion.

"Uh… Not very," Tony answers.

"Has that ever happened before?" Fury quizzes further.

"No. I mean, the warmth thing happened once before with Bruce. When I interviewed him. It felt like there was this, I don't know, sense that he was a perfect candidate. I shrugged it off," he says, punctuating his statement with a shrug. "But I've never seen glowing people before I don't think," he says, but then scrunches his face and squints his eyes thoughtfully. "Well, maybe a few times in college, but I wasn't sober."

Fury rolls his eye, but before he can say anything further, Coulson returns. "Dr. Banner is reasonably confused and not sure of his answer just yet."

"His answer is he stays," Fury says matter-of-factly.

"Well, we can't make him, sir," Coulson counters.

"I don't care what we have to do. Dr. Banner stays," Fury says and Tony blinks at his total about face. "Stark has it."

"It?" Tony echoes in confusion.

"It?" Coulson asks in disbelief. Fury nods. "Stark has it?" Coulson looks at him studiously.

"What the hell is it?" Tony tries to get an answer.

"Sir, Dr. Banner is requesting to speak with Mr. Stark," Coulson says and Tony gets the feeling they are ignoring his question. Of course, that becomes of less importance at the knowledge that Bruce wants to speak with him. "He refuses to make any decision until then."

"Good," Fury says and then looks at Tony. "You get in there and do whatever it is you have to do to make him stay."

Tony blinks again and looks toward the other room. "I was already planning on it if I got the chance," Tony says truthfully. "But," he fixes Fury with a defiant gaze, "the only thing I'm going to do to get him to stay is be honest with him. Like I said, no lies. Not with him."

Fury throws up his hands and grumbles about Santa picking a hell of a time to fall in love, but then lets him leave without further protest.

Tony enters the room Bruce is waiting in like he owns it – well he does – even if he's nervous about what he'll say to Bruce, what Bruce wants to say to him. Confidence has gotten him everywhere in life and he's not about to give up on that tried and true method now when he needs it most. Now when he can be one hundred percent open and confident about his identity with Bruce like he's wanted to since the beginning.

When he enters the room he finds Bruce staring at a large wall that has a digital map of the world, synchronized with several identical maps at SHIELD. The map lights up, growing brighter or dimmer when there's a rise or fall in Christmas spirit throughout the year in various locations. Bruce shakes his head and fiddles with his glasses as if he can't believe what he's seeing, or even understand it.

"It's measuring the rise and fall of Christmas spirit in places around the world," Tony announces his presence by way of explanation.

"Ah," Bruce says softly. There's a long pause and Tony considers saying something else, but then Bruce says, without turning, "Coulson said that I was being considered for this job from the moment you hired me. He said that you were very likely going to offer me a position in two weeks along with Dr. Cho. Why?"

"It's just the way the process works," Tony answers with a shrug. "Typically, R&D candidates have been with the company for a while before being suggested. An analytics team watches the candidate for however long until he or she is deemed ready to be offered the position or else is deemed unsuitable for this side of the company. In your case, you were suggested by Dr. Selvig for R&D prior to your application. It was my job to offer you a position with SI if I felt you were qualified and then the analytics team would take over from there. R&D hiring always happens the same time every year. I don't get it, but apparently—"

"That's not what I'm asking," Bruce interjects, turning to look at him with a furrowed brow. "Why didn't you just wait? Coulson showed me the data from the analytics team. You weren't supposed to tell me for another two weeks, but you did. Why?"

Tony hesitates, but then realizes he's already promised to tell him the truth. "Because deep down, I just couldn’t lie to you anymore," he answers. "You don't deserve that."

Bruce only looks more confused. "Neither does Dr. Cho," he points out and Tony winces slightly at the undeniable truth of that statement.

"Okay, so it's more selfish than that," Tony admits. "Dr. Cho is wonderful. I hope she joins us. But she's not the person I've become friends with over the past few months and lying to a friend is just…" He sighs. "The thing is, I ignored the process. I was warned not to get involved with R&D candidates on any level, but I did anyway because I couldn't help myself with you. Like I said before, you're amazing. So amazing that I've been on the verge of telling you a few times. It's been hell trying to keep the secret from you, but I was trying my damnedest to follow the stupid Santa Rules. I just… couldn't follow the rules about staying away and I guess that was the fatal error."

"Okay…" Bruce seems uncertain. "So, you wanted to be my friend even at the risk of my finding out. I guess… that makes sense. But…" He looks away. "But why was tonight different?" 

It's a loaded question and Tony almost suspects that Bruce has an inkling, or maybe that's him being hopeful again. He takes a deep breath. "Because it was the perfect date." Bruce's eyes dart back to Tony's face in a startled manner. "Dinner, science… I let my guard down and brought up the subject of Santa Claus. I had no idea you were going to start saying things… things that did something to me… But then, you did, and it just came out."

"Things?" Bruce furrows his brow and tilts his head.

Tony puffs out his cheeks a little and then exhales sharply. "It's… hard to explain, really." He debates what to tell him, how much to tell him. "Do you remember what you said about Santa?"

Bruce's brow remains furrowed for a few seconds longer before his eyes widen. "Oh my god." He looks at the map again and then back at Tony as if he's seeing him as Santa again for the first time. "This whole time I was right."

"You were," Tony said with a nod. "And I guess I couldn't help myself when I heard you."

Bruce looks at him for a moment before looking down and away in a studious expression. "A lot of things are starting to make a little more sense now," he says in an absent sort of tone, as if still going over it all in his mind and just thinking out loud. "The fanmail—"

"Letters to Santa," Tony clarifies. "Wish lists before Christmas and thank you letters after."

"The random Christmas references. The kids—"

"They don't know I'm Santa when they see me," Tony interjects again, "but if they still believe in Santa they get a sort of vibe. I always got it with my dad. Thought he was the most amazing man in the world and always wanted to be anywhere he was. Then I found out he was Santa. It was a mindfuck."

Bruce blinks a few times, but then his lips turn up in amusement. "And Santa has quite an interesting vocabulary," he says with a single shake of his head.

Tony barks out a laugh. "Yeah, I get that a lot. I'm apparently not very Santa-y."

"Well, you mentioned you like a good hot cocoa," Bruce points out and Tony smiles at his remembering. 

"Yeah." He shrugs guiltily. "I do like some of the stereotypical things people have imagined over the years." He weighs his head from side to side. "Some more embarrassing than others. But you haven't had a chance to see that side yet and I'd love for you to stay so you can. I think it'd be more having somebody who really speaks my language around all the time." He realizes he's rambling and making it all about him so stops abruptly.

"I…" Bruce bites his lip and lets Tony stew in a long agonizing silence before finishing. "This is crazy," he then says suddenly, turning back around. It almost looks like he's considering running out of the room and as far away as possible – although he'd never even make it to the elevator before being waylaid. Tony worries he's gone and messed everything up again somehow.

"Bruce, I know it's a lot, but…" Tony moves toward him and stands just behind him. "You know, we invited you to work with us for a reason. You're brilliant and we thought you were right for our team." He shakes his head. "But as much as I want you here, it's still your choice. I'm sure Coulson gave you the spiel about what happens if you say no." He feels Bruce tense slightly and wants more than anything to sooth it away.

"He said you have a telepath," Bruce says in a low, uncertain voice. "I wasn't aware telepathy was real."

"Among other things," Tony says with a soft chuckle and he feels Bruce tense just a little more. "Dr. Xavier is the strongest telepathic mind on the planet. He… he'd actually make a damn good Santa himself if I'm being honest. He's a distant cousin, third in line after Steve, barring if Steve has kids first. Or me for that matter." Tony had definitely asked some more questions about the specifics of succession from Coulson just in case.

"Oh," Bruce says, like he's not sure how to handle all of the information and that's all he can manage. "And he'll remove my memories if I say no," he then says, turning toward Tony again. They're close enough that Tony can practically see Bruce's mind calculating the situation behind his intense brown eyes. "Coulson said he'd have to block all of them from when I started working here. I'll have to go back to—"

"That won't happen," Tony cuts over him and Bruce blinks. "I've already made that very clear to my colleagues. I promise if you say no to all of this the only thing that will happen is you'll leave this room, see Dr. Xavier, and it'll be like tonight and this conversation never happened. You'll go on working for Stark Industries and wowing the world with your brilliance."

There's another lull in the conversation. Bruce glances down, licks his lips, and then glances back up with a raised eyebrow. "And you?"

Tony sighs. "And I'll have to watch you wow the world from a distance." Bruce frowns and Tony is selfish enough to admit he likes that response. "I'd have to stay away from you so as not to risk telling you again. Like I said, I can't seem to help myself with you," he admits with a twitch of his lips.

"And we couldn't be friends," Bruce deduces.

"And we couldn't be friends," Tony confirms. "Six months out of the year I'm someone slightly different that you couldn't know about. There would be too many lies. You wouldn't know, but I would. It's been killing me as it is and I just don't think I could handle that long term, not after knowing what could have been."

Bruce's eyes roam around the room again and then he takes a deep breath and upon exhaling he says, "Okay."

Tony's eyes go wide and he can feel the way his smile practically splits open his face. For half a second Bruce looks at him strangely, but Tony's just too relieved to wonder why.

"Really?"

"You said to find what makes me happy right?" Tony nods. Bruce ducks his head. "Then yes." He meets Tony's eyes again. "I told you I'm happy working here...with you." Tony almost doesn't hear any of what he has to say next because hearing that he makes Bruce happy does things to him again. "I hated thinking I'd ruined our friendship before so I don't know if I could handle that long term," he echoes Tony's sentiment.

"You'd blame yourself, wouldn't you?" Tony realizes with sharp and harsh clarity. If Bruce really had chosen otherwise and Tony had to watch him from a distance knowing Bruce was beating himself up for that distance… he knows he wouldn't be able to do it. There would just be no way he wouldn't crack. He couldn't let Bruce live with that sort of misery.

"I'd have good reason to," Bruce mumbles a confession. Then he sighs. "I'm not even sure you're not making a mistake thinking I should be a part of this. You might regret—"

"No, no," Tony immediately stops that line of thinking with a shake of his head. "I didn't regret hiring you for Stark Industries and I'm very certain I won't regret this. And you won't regret it either," he says earnestly. He then thinks better of that statement. "Well, okay, you might. I won't make that promise. It really does get crazy here sometimes and it's Christmas 24/7 so if you don't love the holiday that might get old. And Santa or not I'm still a bit of a piping hot mess. In fact, you haven't even seen the half of it yet. But—"

"But I'd miss the little bit I have seen if I refused the position," Bruce interjects.

Tony smiles wide again and Bruce ducks his head like he's overwhelmed by his own forwardness, but there's a small smile on his face as well. Tony may be Santa, but right now he feels like he's the kid on Christmas morning.

Chapter Text

Bruce isn't actually slated to join R&D officially for another three weeks. He'll spend two weeks transitioning from the Stark Industries side. The announcement will be made to his department so it's not too much of a blind side. He'll finish up some ongoing projects if he can, transfer others to the labs upstairs, and then some he'll probably leave behind altogether. Then there will be another week of R&D orientation in which he and Dr. Cho, if she decides to accept her invitation as well, will be taken through a crash course of the crazy new job they've signed up for, including the non-disclosure policy.

That, of course, doesn't stop Tony from wanting to bring Bruce into the rest of his world as soon as he can. When Bruce comes back in the following Monday, probably spending one hell of a weekend just trying to wrap his mind around things, Tony finds him at lunch per usual with that thought in mind.

"You know," Tony says, in lieu of a greeting, "I half expected to come in today and find out you'd changed your mind or something." And he means it as more than in jest.

Bruce blinks his eyes at him several times. "So I wasn't dreaming. You're really—" He stops himself and looks around to see if anyone else around is listening. A few of his colleagues are throwing glances their way, but Tony suspects they're of a different sort of curiosity.

Tony solves the dilemma by saying, "Wanna do lunch?" Bruce blinks again, but then nods.

Sure enough, Tony notices the way the eyes of Bruce's colleagues follow them out and when Tony glances back at them all, they quickly get back to work in a guilty fashion. Tony has to wonder if Bruce realizes his colleagues assume he's getting cozy with the boss…and then he starts to wonder if they think Bruce earned his R&D promotion in such a manner. Well, if Bruce hasn't considered it, he certainly won't bring it up and make him uncomfortable.

"You know, I'm the one who was a little unsure about everything," Bruce says, breaking him from those thoughts. Tony gives him a questioning look. "I wasn't sure if we'd still have lunch together. I thought maybe I'd be less appealing now that I'm not some forbidden fruit," he explains in a teasing fashion as they walk together down a hall towards the elevators.

Tony scoffs. "Are you kidding? According to Paradise Lost the real fun comes after the forbidden fruit is tasted."

"Um, I'm not sure that's a proper analysis of the piece."

Tony snorts and leads him to the R&D access only elevator. "Yes, well, whatever the point is we've only just begun, Brucey. So how do you feel about having lunch upstairs with the other elves?"

"That seriously depends on if you're going to call me Brucey again," Bruce answers with a snort as the elevator door closes and Tony hits the appropriate floor. Tony pouts at him in a melodramatic fashion and Bruce rolls his eyes before shaking his head in amusement. "Fine. But only because somehow you manage to make obnoxious seem ridiculously charming and I still just don't understand it."

"Santa privilege," Tony says breezily, and logs away the fact that Bruce finds him charming. "Also, you're the first person not to get up and arms about being called an elf," he considers aloud.

Bruce just makes a noncommittal sort of hum. Then he tilts his head. "Wait, Santa privilege? Are you saying I wouldn't like you if you weren't Santa?" He raises an eyebrow. "Because that seems pretty dubious. And I don't recall having a Santa kink before."

Tony barks out a soft laugh. "You're just now realizing this whole thing is oozing dubious consent?" He throws him a playful leer and adds, "As for Santa kink..."

Then what Bruce has said really hits him. Does his Santa charisma have a sway over people? Is that just another thing in his life he can't really trust? Where does Tony start and end when it comes to being Santa?

"Tony?" Bruce interrupts his thoughts and Tony looks to see the other man making a curious study of him.

Tony opens his mouth to dismiss it all when the elevator pings open, doing his job for him. Bruce turns his head back quickly and he appears apprehensive about leaving the safety of the small space. Tony watches him with a soft, crooked grin before gesturing for him to go first.

"Welcome to the elf cafeteria," he says, stepping out just behind him.

Bruce blinks wide eyes as he glances around like he can't focus on just one thing, which makes sense seeing as the cafeteria is brimming with holiday cheer that really makes no sense in early June. July maybe. It quite literally screams North Pole, which is heightened in some sense by being in on the secret.

"And I think this just got real."

"Obnoxious isn't it?"

"I… Hmm…" Bruce glances around some more. "You know, I'll let you know once I'm able to process it all." Tony snorts. "Also, does it always smell like cookies?"

"Yes," Tony says with a huff of amused exasperation. "That's one of those stereotypes that happens to be very true. But to be fair, who doesn't like cookies?"

"Touché."

"But you'll find," Tony says, leading him over to a line for pizza, "the whole holiday baked goods tradition is very much a thing in general. Cookies, cakes, puddings, candies, chocolates—" Tony stops and turns to face Bruce only to see him looking dazed, almost orgasmic. "You okay?" He narrows his eyes. "You're looking a little obscene."

"Oh, uh…" Bruce coughs and his cheeks darken. Tony smiles at the sight. "I, um, might have an out-of-control sweet tooth." He puckers his lips in a deliberating manner and glances up at the ceiling guiltily, nodding as he does.

"Well, then you're going to think you've died and gone to heaven." Tony smiles even wider. "Not only do we have all those sweet things and more our recipes are better than pretty much anything you've ever probably tasted. I mean, just wait until you try the fruit cake. You'll bless the day I ever blurted my secret."

"I think I already am," Bruce says with a chuckle and Tony notices him eyeing a bunch of assorted desserts as they wait in line.

"The lunch plan here is even more generous than the one downstairs as in there isn't one, it's all on the house, so knock yourself out." Bruce blinks at him in surprise. "But I suggest starting with the Fa-La-La Figgy Pudding," Tony tells him. "Slice of Hawaiian, thanks," he then says.

"Um, slice of veggie, thank you," Bruce says when prompted right after.

A few short moments later they have their pizza and Tony walks over to the aforementioned display of desserts. Tony grabs a generous-sized brownie and Bruce takes his advice and gets a small portion of plum pudding.

"Fa-La-La?" Bruce queries as they finish up by grabbing some drinks.

"Because it will absolutely make your taste buds sing," Tony explains and leads him over to the usual table he sits at. He's not even surprised when he finds Clint, Natasha, Jane and Darcy all sitting there waiting for him since they're all eager to officially meet the elf who's made such a ruckus, especially Clint and Natasha since they weren't given the chance the night everything had happened. "We can sit elsewhere," Tony offers to Bruce. "I mean, granted, they'll probably just follow us since elves are such clingy things."

Clint eyes him evenly. "'You feelin' strong, my friend? Call me elf one more time.'"

Tony stage whispers to Bruce, "'He's an angry elf.'"

"Get used to this, Dr. Banner," Natasha interjects. "You'll find out pretty quick that there is absolutely no escape from that movie around this place. It's only gotten worse since Tony started hanging around here full time."

"Just supporting Happy," Tony says breezily. "I thought his small role was truly delightful. Guy coulda been a star if he hadn't chosen the Santa life." He sees Bruce's curious expression and makes a note to explain later.

"You don't really choose the Santa life," Darcy says. "The Santa life chooses you."

"That's technically true," Jane agrees with a nod.

"Or in Dr. Banner's case," Clint chimes in, "the Santa life corners him in a lab and mugs him."

Tony opens his mouth to say they can seriously sit anywhere else, but before he can Bruce barks out a laugh and sets his tray down on the table. "That's technically true too," he says and takes a seat.

"You'll regret this choice," Tony warns as he sits down beside him.

"Maybe," Bruce nods and glances at the ensemble, "but if I'm going to be an elf I should probably get to know the other elves I'll be working with, right?"

"Please, doc, don't encourage him with the moniker," Natasha says dryly.

"Yeah, the call names he insists on using are bad enough," Jane says. "We never had to put up with this sort of thing with Howard."

"Call names?" Bruce raises an eyebrow and glances at Tony before taking a bite of his pizza. Jane covers her mouth dramatically, realizing she's just given Tony an open invitation to discuss them and Tony smirks at her.

"Like how Rhodey is Colonel Candy Cane," he answers. Bruce gives a silent 'oh' in understanding. "Just a way for me to refer to people in on the secret in a covert way just in case. I decided to go ahead and make them official when I took over."

"And by that he means, he's abusing his Santa power to annoy us," Clint explains.

"Annoying you is a bonus," Tony responds then looks back at Bruce. "So you already know Rhodey's. Dr. Jane Foster here," he introduces her, "is Comet."

"Because she's an astrophysicist?" Bruce reasons with a charming smile in her direction.

Jane practically squeals and Darcy squeals in solidarity. "He knows who I am!" Then she remembers herself and clears her throat. "I, um, I mean, you've heard of my work?"

"Sure," Bruce says, still smiling, but Tony notices it's a little shyer now. "I've read your papers. And you're fairly close with Dr. Selvig, right? He's talked highly of you in the past."

Jane smiles brightly. Tony blinks because for a second he swears she's got a rainbow-colored halo all about her. He furrows his brow when it disappears and recalls Fury's vague conversation with Coulson.

"I've read all of your papers too," Jane is saying to Bruce when Tony comes back from his wandering thoughts. "It's awesome to meet you, like officially, Dr. Banner. I attended a conference with Dr. Selvig once when I was a teenager and you were speaking. I didn’t get the chance to say hello, but you were amazing."

"Oh, uh," Bruce turns even more sheepish. "Thank you. And… now I feel very, woefully old."

"Well, you don't look it," Darcy intervenes with a saucy wink. "Does he, Santa?" She winks at him then.

Tony sighs and glances sideways at Bruce, who is suddenly very focused on his pizza. "This is Darcy and I really only tolerate her because Jane does for some reason. She runs a," he air quotes, "'non-official' Santa Twitter and Facebook page. So obviously of no real use to us since those are a dime a dozen. Her call name is Prancer."

"Like the movie," Darcy chirps, unfazed by any of his jabs. "Because I'm the adorable girl who never stops believing in Santa, even when he's a jerk," she adds with a glance at Tony, "and who takes care of all of his metaphorical reindeers."

"Okay, one, it's reindeer without an s," Tony snipes, "and two, that's not even remotely the reason."

"Well, whatever the reason," Bruce interjects in a polite tone, "it's nice to meet you, Darcy."

"Thank you," Darcy says and gives Tony another look. "He's nice. Maybe he should be Santa."

"I think I'll have to pass," Bruce says with a chuckle.

"Good call," Natasha states before Tony can comment. "I'm Natasha. Which drives Tony a little crazy because I wasn't born on Christmas Day. And my call name is Dancer because I told him if he values his life it wouldn't be Vixen."

Bruce snorts around a bite of pizza and quickly takes a drink. Then he looks at Tony with raised eyebrows.

"Okay, for the record, it was never going to be Vixen. That was a joke just to see how she'd respond. Dancer just makes sense." He ticks off points on his fingers. "She's Russian, she's trained in ballet, and her favorite holiday tradition is The Nutcracker. And Sugar Plum Fairy, Nutcracker, and Mouse King were already taken so…"

"I'm not even going to ask," Bruce states dryly with a shake of his head.

"Well, none of those are me," Clint replies. "Not that Cupid is much better."

"Oh come on," Tony defends himself, "it's clever. You're a professionally-trained bowman."

"You are?" Bruce asks in a surprised tone.

"Yeah. It's mostly a hobby these days," he says. "But I've also got tranqs on hand should things get dicey and Santa here needs an emergency extraction."

Bruce glances at Tony with wide eyes that seem to indicate he's suddenly rethinking the whole situation. "Um… okay, I guess Cupid makes sense then," he says in a disbelieving tone. After a moment of everyone just eating in silence Bruce asks, "So, out of morbid curiosity, who are the other reindeer? Or have they not been assigned yet?"

Tony smiles. "Steve is Dasher. And Thor—" He pauses. "Did Coulson tell you about Thor?"

"The Norse god that's actually an alien?" Bruce's tone is borderline sardonic.

"Yep, him. I don't really have him on speed dial or anything since deep space, realm, whatever communication still hasn't been achieved."

"Working on it," Jane chirps.

"But he's my honorary Donder and Blitzen."

"Both?"

"Trust me. Guy's big enough for both. One name for each of his arms, honestly."

"It makes sense," Darcy agrees. Jane hums her own agreement.

"Oh, wait. Donder and Blitzen is derived from the German words for thunder and lightning," Bruce suddenly says. He gives a small, amused smile. "I get it now. You've really given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"And finally somebody appreciates it," Tony replies, genuinely glad that Bruce seems to already be catching on to Tony's Santa-language too.

"Aww," Darcy and Jane sigh at once.

"Wow," Clint and Natasha counter dryly in unison.

Tony shares a long look with Bruce, and something like hope hangs in the air between them, until the other man looks away. Tony looks down at his half eaten brownie and isn't sure if he wants to smile or sigh before glancing up and seeing Clint and Natasha studying them both.

"Oh, hey," Tony notices Charles then and calls him over before he can dwell on what's running through the minds of Jingle and Jangle. "And there's Vixen."

"Okay, not what I was expecting," Bruce mutters when he looks over.

Charles laughs and shakes his head. He comes over to the table and stands there with his hands in the pockets of his crisp pants. He looks every bit the Oxford professor as usual.

"I don't think Erik would much appreciate that call sign if he knew about it," he warns in jest. But then he furrows his brow and tilts his head towards Tony. "Oh. He did, did he? In that case I'll be sure to speak with him about it."

"Jeez, Charles," Tony says, "a little privacy."

"Ah, no, none of that," Charles counters. "I heard the smirk. You were deliberately thinking that thought quite loudly. I have half a mind to give you a piece of my own mind." So he does and Tony is suddenly assaulted with an unpleasant image of his distant cousin in a compromising pose while dressed in drag and… oh god Erik too. Good grief, Vixen doesn't even cover it. How come nobody gets onto Charles about his proclivities? "Dr. Banner, I presume," Charles introduces himself all blue-eyed and innocent-like while Tony scrubs at his eyes. "I'm Charles Xavier."

"I…" Bruce hesitates. "It's a pleasure to meet you. You're really a telepath? Because, honestly, I think of all the things I've learned so far that's the hardest to swallow."

"Not Thor?" Clint queries.

"Well, as a man of science, life in other parts of the universe makes sense to me as plausible. We've barely scratched the surface of space travel. Telepathy…not as much."

"Ah, but it's science that grants me my ability," Charles says with the familiar gleam he gets in his eyes whenever he gets to talk of it openly. "It's quite a groovy genetic mutation actually. No more sorcery than heterochromia. And I dare say as we continue to evolve as a species, we may see even more mutations along these lines. I did a thesis on the topic while I was—"

"Charles, what am I thinking right now?" Tony interrupts.

Charles glances at him and then shakes his head. "Very funny."

"For the record, I find it fascinating," Bruce says quickly. "I'd love to hear more about it."

Charles beams at him. Once again it's the almost-Santa smile, Tony thinks. Only with way redder lips. "I'd love that too, but I really can't stick around I'm afraid. We'll schedule a time later. Welcome to our strange little world, Dr. Banner. Oh, and before I forget, I skimmed your mind." Bruce tenses. "Ah, please don't be alarmed. I didn't go looking for anything personal. I just like to take a peek at the synapses and patterns and colors that make up various minds. It allows me to find you more easily should I ever need to."

"Oh?" Bruce looks around uncertainly. "Um, okay." He returns to his food as if he doesn't want to think about it.

"But I must say, you have a very strong mind, my friend. And," Charles glances at Tony discreetly, "very, very colorful."

Tony's eyes widen. Colorful? Tony goes to send the question psychically to Charles, but before he can Bruce startles him with a—

"Oh my god." Tony looks at him quickly, wondering what's wrong only to find he's taken a bite of his figgy pudding. "Oh my god that's the best thing I've ever eaten," he says with wide eyes, glancing at Tony. "My taste buds are singing."

Tony smiles. He hears Charles' parting thought of //yes, a very colorful mind// but it's secondary to the look of pleasure on Bruce's face at the moment.

❄

Tony sits in the lounge of R&D's recreational floor going over some of the intel SHIELD has collected over the past six months; that is he's begun 'checking the list' for the first time. However, he's broken from his labored study at the sound of the elevator pinging and the sound of Fury's disgruntled mumbling that follows. Tony looks up from his tablet and over his shoulder with a furrowed brow to see the man stalking towards the bar.

He's just come from the final session of Bruce's and Dr. Cho's first week orientation, which is partly why Tony has been biding his time in the lounge, so Tony's not sure what to think. Clearly Clint and Natasha, who'd been sitting at the bar going over their own intel of some sort – Tony doesn't care - don't know what to think either as they glance at each other and then at Fury.

Tony sets aside his tablet and heads over to the bar. Fury turns his head to look at him, a glass half to his mouth when he does. Fury scowls at the sight of him and sets the glass back down.

"Stark, I swear if I find out you coached him just to make my life miserable, I'm going to retire and let you crash and burn come Christmas Eve."

"Um." Tony holds his finger up and then opens his mouth to respond further only to close it again, scrunching his face. The elevator pings again and Tony drops his finger as he looks back toward it. Coulson comes in and Bruce follows behind, but he lingers hesitantly near the elevator. He glances at Tony and then at Coulson as Phil leans in and says something to him too low for Tony to hear. He nods and Coulson pats him on the shoulder before turning and coming towards them. Tony meets him in the middle and says, "Why is Nick making empty promises about retiring?"

Coulson furrows his brow for a second, glances past Tony's shoulder and then gives an enlightened expression. He chuckles and shakes his head. "We should have realized anyone compatible with you would be a hassle in their own right." That does nothing to alleviate Tony's confusion or concern and he's not sure whether to ask about the compatible part or the hassle part. "Dr. Banner had quite a lot to say about the dubiousness of everything. And he seems to have a bit of mistrust of SHIELD's part in all of this." Tony's eyebrows shoot upward. He suddenly likes Bruce all the more and he didn't think that was even possible at this point. "Of course, being who he is—"

Tony glances at Bruce again and sees the way he seems to want to fade into oblivion. "He regrets his outburst?"

"A little," Coulson answers. "Or else wishes he'd been a tad more tactful." Tony's eyes widen as he wonders what he could have possibly said. "I think he needs a little reassurance he hasn't messed up right about now."

"He didn't as far as I'm concerned," Tony says with a smile.

Coulson sighs. "Like I said, we should have taken that into consideration."

Tony understands his meaning this time and smiles even wider. He starts to head toward Bruce when he stops and glances towards the couch where he'd left his tablet. He moves to grab it and pulls back up the list. He scrolls through and finds a name again that he hadn't thought one way or another about the first time he'd read it. This time however he gets a sort of inkling that something is missing. He walks back over to Coulson, who's studying him.

"This kid here," Tony says, pointing and then handing the tablet to Coulson. "All of the intel suggests naughty list, but I don't know. Something doesn't feel right about it."

"It doesn't?" Coulson asks evenly.

"Yeah," Tony says thoughtfully. "Maybe I'm wrong, but I want it looked into further. Check for any preexisting reasons for his behavior that might have been overlooked. We'd hate for the kid to stop believing just because we missed a piece of the larger picture," Tony finishes with a smile and firm nod.

"Understood," Coulson says, but Tony thinks he gives him another studious look over as he leaves to join Bruce.

One look at Bruce tells him he doesn't want to be in the same room with Fury so he hits the elevator to take Bruce elsewhere. "Did it go well?" he asks with a smile. Bruce flashes him a small glare as if to say, 'like you don't know?' Tony just smile wider and moves into the elevator with Bruce behind him. "So I hear you distrust SHIELD," he says when they're alone.

"I really blew it, didn’t I?" Bruce hangs his head. "I didn't mean… I just…" Then his head shoots back up and his eyes are a little frenzied. "Oh god. Don't tell me this means they'll tranq me and forcibly remove my memories."

Tony knows he shouldn't, but he laughs. And his laugh is far too hearty that it's no wonder Bruce frowns. "I'm sorry," Tony says as he tries to recompose himself. "I'm sorry, really. But no. That's not going to happen."

"Well, what am I supposed to think after that NDA?" Bruce bites back, clearly still upset, or maybe worried. The humor dies in Tony's throat immediately and his whole countenance softens. He hits the elevator stop just so nobody can catch Bruce mid-panic.

"Hey, look," Tony says, "that's not going to happen because… Well, it has happened in the past. So I won't say there's no precedence for your concern." Bruce's eyes widen again and Tony takes a step towards him. "But those were extreme cases where the secret of Santa or, you know, Santa himself, was in danger. That's not the case here. And even if we were dealing with Nick the dick's fury," Bruce squeaks in surprise, and amusement, at the unexpected insult, "he knows if he tries anything where you're concerned he's going to have a very unhappy Santa on his hands." Bruce visibly takes a deep breath in and his eyebrows go up slightly as if he's surprised by that sentiment. Or maybe it's suddenly all sinking in that Tony would give just about anything at the moment to show him just exactly why he won't let the others send him packing and now Bruce is calculating his own response. "Nobody is going to do anything to you that you don't want," he promises, and maybe there's another meaning to it should Bruce need double reassurance.

"It's just…" Bruce still holds his gaze, which is interesting since by now he usually looks away or ducks his head a little. "I don't want to be seen as a threat just because I have my questions and concerns regarding the…" He finally does look down as if ashamed.

"The lies?" Tony hazards a guess that causes Bruce to look back up at him so quickly it's a tad startling. "Want to know a secret? Well, I'm not sure it's actually a secret, but here's the thing… The reason Fury got irritated is because of me."

"You?"

Tony hitches a shoulder as he gives a guilty smirk. "I've been a thorn in his side regarding that very issue. Do you get it yet?"

Bruce furrows his brow, his eyes darting left and right as if searching through his infinite memory until, "Oh." He meets Tony's gaze again.

"I… I don't know if I was a genuine person once upon a time because, hell, I'm not a genuine person now. Not when I have to lie to people even if I don't want to. Not when I lied to you. Not when you're absolutely right and this whole thing is dubious, SHIELD notwithstanding. Bruce, I don't even know if I have an answer for you regarding whether you would like me if I wasn't Santa," Tony adds, all of his doubts falling out of his mouth before he can stop them. Maybe it's the enclosed space or maybe it's because as usual he can't keep his mouth closed when it comes to Bruce.

"Tony—"

"And you know, I get that people don't really change and I want to believe that, but I don't know if I won't suddenly change against my will because this whole damn thing takes over your life and it's all so fucking dubious that I just—"

"Tony," Bruce says his name more firmly and Tony stops, glancing at Bruce to see his concerned expression.

"I…" Tony sighs and then gives a soft, self-derisive chuckle. "So you see, it's not you. It's me. Fury's first assumption was I had you do it on purpose to annoy him." He decides not to say, 'But Coulson seems to realize it's just more evidence of why you're perfect for me.' He sighs again and turns to hit the button to start the elevator again.

"Tony, I already have my answer," Bruce says in a very deliberate, serious tone. Tony inclines his head slightly in his direction, but doesn't look at him. "I still have concerns, maybe more so now that I know it doesn't just effect your employees, but Santa too." Tony does meet his gaze then. "But I didn't take this job because Santa, or even Stark, asked me to." Tony's eyes widen a little. "I took it because you did." Bruce hitches a shoulder and glances away. "It was Tony that asked me to believe in him." He glances back. "Right?"

"Right…" Tony answers uncertainly.

"And I do."

"You do?" Tony feels better at just the sound of that.

"Yeah… I… It's not easy for me, but I do. Because Tony did his best to be genuine with me from the start. He did his best not to lie. You told me to trust that you're still the guy who I got to know and I do. Your occupation doesn't define you."

"And what about the changing thing? Did they cover that theory in orientation?" Bruce nods. "So what if the guy you got to know still isn't who I get to be after I put on the Santa suit?"

Bruce rolls his lips in a considering fashion. For a second the air is thick between them with silence. Finally he says, "Well, I guess I won't know until I come to that hypothetical bridge," he says. "But I still don't think people change like that, Tony."

"Not even in the face of Santa, magic, other realms and telepathy?" Tony asks, more than a little surprised by Bruce's stubbornness.

"You know, I'd say maybe more so in the face of that."

Tony's mouth falls open just as the elevator doors open. Bruce turns to look and seems confused. Tony turns to look too and realizes what he's accidentally done. "Oh, uh…" He clears his throat and rolls with it, stepping out of the elevator into the small foyer between it and the door to his apartment. "Well, this was completely unplanned," he says as he unlocks his door and then opens it with a gesture of his head for Bruce to follow him in. "Autopilot probably, but hey, welcome to the penthouse."

"So, this is Santa's cottage, huh?" Bruce asks, stepping into the apartment very slowly. He glances around. "It does look a little like it," he says, pointing at the stone and wood and metal.

Tony laughs. "Or the fact that it was my dad's bachelor pad and then mom made him compromise a little bit on the gaudiness after they got married. It's the only way she would agree to live here at all."

Bruce snorts. "Okay, yeah. I could see that too."

"I was about four or five when mom finally got him to rip up the shag carpeting throughout most of the place and I can still remember the absolute fit he threw. You'd think she'd asked him for a divorce or something. Or that he was considering one himself." He shakes his head.

Bruce hums in a considering tone and then looks at him. "That doesn't sound very Santa-like."

"Ever seen Rudolph?" Tony lifts an eyebrow.

Bruce snorts. "Yes, but I meant he didn't just stop loving shag carpet after he became Santa, right?"

"Oh, I see," Tony catches on, "clever. Because his interests didn't change, then he was still the same man as before. Sound logic."

Bruce gives a small smile and shrugs before looking around some more. "Just because he realized he had a job to do and was willing to do it doesn't mean he was a different man. Maybe it did shift his perspective or gave him some sort of purpose, but that doesn't mean it was against his will. Maybe he learned to love it, or maybe he hated it and acted otherwise. You never know. And I guess I don't know either since I don't know him." He turns from where he'd been looking at the photos on the fireplace that Tony hadn't moved in order to look at Tony. "But I already know my answer," he repeats his earlier sentiment.

Tony wonders if Bruce would still say that if the physicist knew how Tony really feels, all the things he's keeping secret from him. Tony doesn't want to chance Bruce's goodwill or else he'd already be across the room and pulling Bruce into a kiss.

"Well then," Tony takes a few steps toward him, "how about we come to a truce. You don't worry about anything happening to you around here just because you have an opinion and I won't worry about why you've come to the conclusion that I'm the best thing since sliced bread and you can't believe your luck that we're friends."

Bruce barks out a laugh. "Sliced bread is overrated. You know that right?" He shakes his head, still smiling. "But okay. Truce."

"Okay that's a rather lofty opinion you have of bread there, Dr. Banner." Tony gestures for him to follow him. He looks back over his shoulder. "Maybe you should keep some opinions to yourself."

"Have you ever had fresh baked bread you have to slice yourself?" Bruce queries.

"Of course," Tony says as he leads him into the kitchen. "First stop on the tour, appropriately so," he explains and Bruce looks around in a considering fashion.

"Looks like your mother had her way in the kitchen," Bruce comments. "And you can't tell me fresh bread doesn't taste a million times better."

"I updated it actually. When my parents moved out," Tony replies. "And obviously it does, but if we still lived in a world where we had to slice our own bread, I'd never eat the stuff. Too much work."

"Oh boy," Bruce mumbles and rolls his eyes. "Well, you're a genius. You could always invent your own bread slicer to make the task easier."

"Huh. Fair point. Alright, let's continue the tour." Tony takes him to all of the appropriate places in the penthouse, ignoring bedrooms just in case he gets the wrong idea…or the right one. Once they're finished Tony, on a whim, says, "Okay. Just one more thing I want to show you."

"More?" Bruce asks in disbelief. "Because three floors and your own personal workshop isn't enough?" He looks around said workshop again.

"Well, it is," Tony says. "But I'm nothing if not excessive, so follow me." Bruce does as instructed and Tony takes him back to the penthouse's private elevator. Once inside he hits the final button that's marked S.

"For Stark or for Santa?" Bruce muses with a small smirk.

Tony doesn't answer until the elevator door opens. "In this case S is for sleigh."

Bruce's smirk fades as his eyes flutter wide. He steps into the workshop in an awed manner, like he's not sure he's allowed to be there. And, okay, he probably shouldn't be, but Tony doesn't care. He'd suddenly felt inclined to show Bruce this special part about being Santa that he actually really loves and seeing Bruce eye the current sleigh model, which Tony will begin modifying soon, with such wonder makes him glad he has. In fact, seeing him in this space feels right. It had felt strangely right throughout the tour, but now he can't hold back the feeling of warmth in his chest.

"Can I…?" Bruce points to the sleigh.

"Sure," Tony answers.

Bruce carefully reaches out a hand and runs it along the sleigh as he slowly inspects it from front to back and top to bottom is a reverential manner. "Wow. This… This is incredible," he says and smiles like a kid in a candy store.

And just like that Bruce is glowing green and Tony has never felt so much…well, so much at once. He feels happy, complete and as he watches Bruce take in all the details of the sleigh, he feels like maybe he can do this job after all.

Of course, it would be nice to know why he's seeing colors.

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but no." Coulson shakes his head and hands him another portfolio. "Now focus."

Tony is supposed to be going over each and every single media and marketing campaign that will take place in the upcoming holiday season so he can then sign off on all of the ones he approves with legal. If he doesn't approve, the legal team will find a way to shut down the production, or ad, or whatever else without actually giving away the secret. At this point though they've been at this for nearly a month and Tony's had it up to here with seeing concept art, reading holiday slogans, looking at Christmas cards, and every other minute thing from influential companies.

At this point he just wants an answer to why he's starting to see colors more often, with more people, and never without any warning. "Come on, you have to," he demands.

"Stark," Coulson sighs wearily, "please trust me. You're not ready for the answer. We're not even sure if it's a fluke yet or not. We don't want to jump the gun. In theory, if it's the real deal, you should be able to figure it out on your own."

"That is a cop-out answer and you know it," Tony counters with narrowed eyes.

Coulson nods. "I do know that, yes."

Tony huffs and looks back at yet another bizarre depiction of a stereotypical elderly and rotund Santa in the tropics, as they're currently going over Christmas vacation package advertisements. Tony hates all of the secrecy. Why can't it just be straightforward? Why is this all like some creepy cult where he's being suppressed and manipulated?

"So, you're seeing them more frequently?" Coulson interrupts his frustrated thoughts and Tony glances at him to see his face has softened drastically. "I may not be able to answer your question, but it doesn't hurt for you to tell me if you want."

Tony sighs and gives into the compromise. "You know it started with Bruce. He had this faint green glow about him. Like an aura I guess?"

"Mmhm. And has he done that since? Have you seen him glow any colors?"

"Yeah, but only green," Tony answers as he moves onto the next item. "A handful of other times and it seems to get a little more vibrant each time. He… As far as I can tell he doesn't see anything."

"Hm," Coulson hums and then asks, "and you say it's not just him now?"

"Nope. I've seen Jane, Darcy, Clint and Steve. Jane I've seen twice. Both times it was more like a rainbow of colors than just a singular one with like Bruce."

"Rainbow?" Coulson seems surprised and raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Steve sort of had that too for the brief couple of seconds I thought I saw it. But with less colors. Actually…" He snorts. "I'm fairly certain it was red, white and blue. Didn't realize Steve was so patriotic."

Coulson actually snorts. "You know, that actually makes sense somehow."

"Does it?" Tony questions. "Because this is turning into some Alice in Wonderland trip that I didn't sign up for."

"I'm sure it seems that way. And I can't say I envy you. But do you know what I think?" Tony raises an eyebrow. "I think you'll figure it out. I think you're going to surprise us all."

Tony is startled by the sentiment. "Well," he sighs, "I hope so."

They continue on in silence for a few moments. "So," Coulson finally interrupts, pausing his pen from where he'd been writing something, "you've never seen me glow? Or are you just not saying?"

"Uh, nope," Tony answers as he glances sideways at him. "No glowing." He snorts and says without thinking, "Then again, can't say I've ever seen you happy before so."

"What was that?" Phil turns his head and looks at him in surprise just as Tony realizes what he's said. "You think it's linked to happiness? How so?"

It's a leading question, Tony knows, and he scrunches his face as he considers it, but nothing comes. He lets out a breath. "I don't know. I… I don't think that's always been the case. I can think of a couple times where the person didn't seem particularly happy. No happier than usual anyhow. Not sure why I said that. Of course, you probably already know." He narrows his eyes at Phil again.

"Maybe, maybe not," he says. "But either way I'm still not—"

"I know, I know," Tony grumbles.

"I think we can take a break now," Coulson says in a very decided tone then and Tony glances at him.

Tony snorts. "I didn't know there were breaks in this business."

"Well, a break of sorts. You still have work to do, but I wouldn't call watching a movie or two very grueling. Well, maybe it is in this case."

Tony suddenly perks up. "Movies?"

"Yeah, we just got copies of the first couple of holiday telefilms."

"Wait, we do that? Since when? I don't remember dad grumbling about it."

Coulson smiles. "We don't usually," he replies. "Used to be we'd get detailed movie synopses and the occasional clips. And your dad would sign off on them same as everything else."

"So like he'd just get a ton of spoilers for the films and say yay or nay?"

"More or less." Tony turns up his nose at the thought of it and Phil chuckles. "But I imagine you wouldn't like that too much. Not even with terrible telefilms."

"Okay, that is," he points, "a closely guarded secret. I want to know how you know that."

"Does it matter how I came to the conclusion you'd prefer I go through the trouble of obtaining advanced screeners of all of the films themselves as they become available? Or would you like to keep your closely guarded secret? Because we can keep the old method by all means."

"Advanced screeners of all holiday films?"

"Even the worst of the worst," Coulson promises. "And the first three are waiting for you in your mailbox for viewing at the earliest convenience. The earlier the better since there'll be a lot more where that came from in coming weeks."

"I guess it's time to come out of the closet then," Tony decides eagerly. "In fact, I could kiss you for this. This… this is probably the best news since Bruce said yes."

"So why don't you go kiss him instead," Phil says with a roll of his eyes as he gathers up the items they'd both been working through.

"And send him running straight to Charles?" Tony scoffs. "Yeah, don't think so. But I do think I'll invite him to join me in watching the movies."

"Stark," Phil calls after him and Tony stops and turns to look at him, "do you really think Banner isn't interested in you?"

Tony bites his lip, hesitates for a long few seconds, and then finally shrugs. "I think in this case I can't trust what I think. I'm not sure if I'm just getting mixed signals or if I'm the one mixing the signals since this is sort of new territory for me. Not to mention on top of everything else. I mean, let's be real here, Phil. Dating Tony Stark is one thing, but Santa? When you've just realized he's real?" He twists his face into a grimace. "Yeah, even my ego realizes there's a fine line there. I'm still just glad he's here and we're still friends."

"Interesting," Phil says simply. "Well, enjoy your movie date just the same." He smiles. "Assuming he's interested in joining you."

❄

"Okay, this…" Bruce laughs enough that he nearly chokes on his popcorn. Tony quickly grabs his drink for him so he can wash it down. "Thanks," he says, voice a little raspy – and Tony definitely doesn't think about hearing it that way in other settings; okay he does, but only for a fleeting second. "But wow. This movie is actually terrible."

"It really is," Tony agrees as the two characters deliver the cliché-riddled script with C-list acting. "I mean, really, why does the woman never pick the handsome, rich businessman? And why do they think all handsome, rich businessmen are sticks-in-the-mud workaholics?" Bruce snorts mid-drink and then throws him a playful glare when he manages to swallow. "Sorry."

"Sure you are. And, you're right. I don't think I've ever met a handsome, rich businessman who would act like that…" Bruce pauses. "Then again, I've never met a handsome businessman in the first place so maybe that's the problem."

"Oh, is that so?" Tony returns the playful glare. "You're just saying that because you totally fit the bill of the other guy."

"What?" Bruce barks out the question in a surprised huff. "Do not."

"Sure you do. More on the rugged, 'I love humanity except only I have a chip on my shoulder thanks to the fact that humanity sort of sucks' side."

"Okay, one, that's really rude. Thanks," he says with a sound somewhere between a snort and a scoff.

"You're welcome."

"Two, how the hell am I rugged?"

"Oh you are," Tony replies with a smirk. "At least you are next to me. The handsome, rich businessman."

"Okay, you believe what you want to believe, Santa," Bruce quips. "Just at least do the world a favor and say no to this movie. Nobody deserves to suffer."

"Are you kidding?" Tony asks with a laugh. "Suffering through these crappy films is a fun holiday tradition for a lot of people. And I particularly like the way Santa was portrayed as meddling in the affairs of the peasantry in this one," he adds.

"Of course."

"Besides, it would be cruel of me to have SHIELD interfere with the release of this film after all of the hard work and money that went into it," Tony reasons.

Bruce looks at him with an incredulous expression. "Tony, we are not watching the same movie. Is there some sort of magic about being Santa that lets you see the movie differently? Because the movie I'm watching feels half-assed and low-budget. It feels like it was slapped together for the sake of having something slapped together."

"In the spirit of entertaining people at the holidays," Tony points out.

"In the spirit of commercial sponsorship at the holidays," Bruce counters.

"Why can't it be both?" Tony quizzes.

There's a long stretch of silence.

"Huh." Bruce breaks it, tilting his head. "I guess it can be."

"I mean, the way I see it," Tony points toward the screen, "as long as people keep watching them, regardless of how bad they are, then maybe that means they should go on being made. Maybe people just want or need non-reality and warm fuzzy feelings at the holidays, no matter the quality. Should they be more inclusive and less stereotypical, sure, but I've always figured as long as people are celebrating somehow that means there's some kind of Christmas cheer, right? Which is sort of the whole point of all of this."

When he finishes his spiel he turns his head to look at Bruce and sees him looking at him already, a sort of moony expression on his face. Tony wonders what's going on in his head to make him look that way, hopes it's what he really would like for it to be, but then Bruce gives a half smile and Tony's brain goes blank.

"That makes a lot of sense," Bruce finally breaks the spell in a soft voice. "I can understand the desire to escape reality. I guess I just..." He glances down. "I never associated it with Christmas."

Something in his body language and tone suggests there's a story there. He knows that something must have happened in Bruce's past, more than just the issue with Ross, but what, he can't begin to fathom. He could find out, sure, but that would definitely betray Bruce's trust.

"You know what would make a better movie?" Tony doesn't like the way Bruce has suddenly folded in on himself again so he decides to change the subject a little. "One of these days the businessman should come to get his girlfriend before she can fall for the rugged guy and plot twist. Love interest one and love interest two fall in love instead." As hoped, Bruce perks up.

"Wait, so like," he furrows his brow, "they start off fighting over the woman only to realize they're attracted to each other more than her? Or is the reason the businessman is so cold and distant as stereotype demands and the rugged guy seems completely prickly at first because they're both in the closet and their worlds are turned upside down when they meet each other?"

Tony's eyes widen with pleasant surprise at Bruce's genuine interest. "Oh. How about both? One movie can use the first plot device and the second can use the other and then repeat both ad nauseam until there's just as many gay Christmas movies as there are hetero ones," he suggests with a wide smile. "And of course we can have other variations in there. Like maybe one of the guys is legitimately attracted to the woman only when the two guys meet it's just like 'whoa never mind' or he's threatened by the other guy at first only to realize, nope he's attracted to him. And maybe only one is in the closet, like the businessman probably given the usual stereotype, and he gets there and Mr. Rugged isn't and totally sees through the closet door."

"Ah, good call. And all of these plots are generic enough to include more than just gay men."

"Precisely!" Tony cheers. "I say we really get this ball moving. Together we could totally change the Christmas industry. Maybe Stark Industries should branch out into the media. We could create a channel all for the sake of our progressive Christmas agenda. We'll have those movies and movies about female Santa's and definitely no more assumptions that Santa Claus can't prefer to have a Mr. Claus if he wants. Really, the possibilities are..." He looks at Bruce. "...endless." He realizes Bruce has gone quiet again and is studying him like he's not sure what to think. Tony glances around in uncertainty. "Um, did I lose you somewhere?"

"Huh?" Bruce blinks. He furrows his brow and then blinks again, shaking his head. "Oh, uh... No, you... I... I guess you were just so enthusiastic about it I got caught up in the magic there for a second." He smiles a little crookedly. "But that sounds amazing. I hope somewhere the ghost of Christmas future is proud of what you've accomplished."

Tony's mouth falls open. "You just made a Christmas reference."

"What?"

"Just now. You made a Christmas reference," he snaps, "just like that."

"I did?" Bruce's eyes widen then narrow. "I did. Does everyone do that when they start working here?" Tony shakes his head. "That's… odd." He chuckles then. "Must be your influence."

"I will one hundred percent take credit," Tony says with a cheeky smile. "And for the record somewhere the ghost of Christmas future is proud of what we've accomplished."

"You seem sure of that," Bruce comments, but focuses back on the screen.

"Of course. Somebody's got to give pointers to the script writers for how to accurately portray our rugged guy."

"I'm not rugged," Bruce replies, still not looking at him.

"You drink tea and meditate. That's a little rugged."

"I'm not rugged," Bruce insists.

"You strike me as the fishing type. I can see you out on a lake with your adorable fisherman's hat and a line."

Bruce hesitates. "Okay, I might be a little rugged," he concedes. "But you're still not—" Bruce turns a playful expression towards him, but it fades. Then he looks back at the screen. "Fine. You might be a little handsome," he mutters.

There's a long moment of silence, but then at the same time they both begin to snicker. It starts low and barely distinguishable, both clearly trying to hold it back only they can't. They glance at each other and then their laughter comes like the peal of bells on Christmas. Tony gets the distinct feeling neither one of them know why they're laughing exactly, aside from their silly banter, but he doesn't care because he gets the distinct feeling that laughing like this, carefree with Bruce just beside him, is the best feeling he's ever experienced.

❄

"Yeah, right there's the problem," Tony says as he fiddles with a pesky line of code for a prototype VR toy. It will be all the rage come the following year if their trend predictions are correct. "Alright. That should do it," he says and then hands it back off to its original designer, who'd asked him for insight into why it wasn't cooperating. "I'm sure all of the toy companies will be fighting over distribution rights," he says with an encouraging wink.

Tony then continues his round on the toy development and production floor as his current training demands. In a couple of short weeks Tony will have to oversee the production floor several hours a day as letters with wish lists start pouring in en masse – which he'll of course still have to read. Tony shakes his head of that overwhelming thought before it can take hold and finishes his task, since he knows somebody somewhere will report it to Coulson if he doesn't.

After that Tony decides to go check in on the scientific elite, the elves working to move the Christmas machine forward as well as make the world a better place both. Of course, that's where Bruce is which is an incentive for checking in on the group he feels most at home in.

"If it isn't the new Father Christmas," he's greeted by a familiar, smooth drawl the moment he's off the elevator.

Tony furrows his brow and then looks to see Loki sitting in one of the lounge chairs, looking a little like he's fancying himself sitting on a throne. He then glances back over his shoulder to see Thor is visiting with Jane.

"You usually don't visit," he states the obvious as he turns his head forward again.

Loki gives a low chuckle. "And it hasn't taken long to remind me of why." He glances past Tony at his adopted brother and shakes his head. "But, I had business on Midgard of my own already. I figured it couldn't hurt to meet Thor here."

"Business of your own, huh?" Tony gives him a suspicious glance. "What would that be? Figuring out a way to start winter in summer now? Or just the usual Asgardian business where you all come down here and carouse with the peasantry...'s horses?"

Loki gives him a snake-like look that turns into a sharp grin. "Centuries of tradition and and I doubt anyone of us would be surprised if you're the Santa to bring it all to an end. In fact, I think I shall enjoy watching it all topple spectacularly." The thrill in his voice indicates he means that as more than just snarky repartee.

Tony grits his teeth, the words like a snake's poison straight to Tony's carefully guarded insecurities, and then starts to retort when there's a thundering, if not a shout, of his name. "Tony! I hear you're coming along wonderfully as the next Santa." The statement is followed by a firm slap to Tony's upper back. Tony grits again, but then throws a smug smile in Loki's direction. The other rolls his eyes and looks away.

"Well, I'm coming along," Tony replies, turning to face Thor. "By the way, about that. Is there somewhere in all of this madness that says Santa is supposed to see colors?"

"Colors?" Loki mumbles in a startled tone behind him.

Thor smiles wide and clamps his hand on Tony's shoulder, shaking him heartily. "Yes, Coulson has told me all about you're having it. Congratulations."

"Uh-huh. So," he air-quotes, "'it' is obviously a thing then? You mind just clearing up for me a little bit what 'it' is? Help a Santa out?"

Thor chuckles and it's like a rumble as he shakes his head. "I am sorry, Tony, but I'm afraid Phil instructed me not to answer any of your questions."

"He—" Tony scowls and then groans. "How the hell am I supposed to be Santa if everybody is going to stack the cards against me!?" He realizes belatedly that his outburst had been, well, just that. Everyone in hearing distance is either looking at him or pretending to look busy. He sighs. "How am I supposed to do the equation without all the variables?"

"As smart as you are, I think you could still figure it out," Bruce interjects at that moment and Tony glances around Thor's massive body to see the physicist standing there like he's interested in joining the conversation and also hesitant to just insert himself. Tony grins crookedly at him and it's apparently the reassurance he needs because Bruce comes to stand beside him. "And don't pretend you don't like the challenge either," he adds with a wry smile, but there's concern in his gaze.

Thor laughs again. "Aye. He does. I've seen many Santa's in my time, but Tony may just be the most stubborn yet. And I mean that in a good way, my friend. You have the resilience of a mighty warrior."

"Thor, can you come here again for a second," Jane calls and Thor gives them both a look that says as much as he likes his girlfriend, he's not overly eager to head back over.

"Yes, Jane," he calls back. Then he says, "Listen to Dr. Banner. Already I can see he's a good addition to the team. You'll figure it out as have all the Santa's before you."

Tony smiles, but he can feel how hollow it is. He just wants answers, and wants to know why nobody is eager to give them to him.

"Hey, don't take this the wrong way," Bruce mutters low for just the two of them to hear after Thor has gone again, "but you look beat. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah, just peachy. As peachy as can be. I mean, sure, there's a blizzard and Rudolph is missing in action so I'm not sure if I'm in Trelew, Cornwall, England or Trelew, Argentina, but hey."

Bruce furrows his brow, one eye twitching a little. "So, you're not okay."

Tony lets out a puff of breath. "I don't know. We're coming up on the busy season." Bruce nods in understanding. "I can barely keep up as it is. And all I can recall this time of year when I was a kid is my dad being so busy that he was hardly around at all. I don't know if I can do that. If I want to do that. I sure as hell know if I had kids, I wouldn't want to do that to them," he then says, suddenly considering the hypothetical. "They'd have to come first, but how could they? How can anything at all compete with this job?"

"Oh," Bruce tones in a startled way. Tony isn't sure why, but whatever the reason Bruce doesn't let the moment linger long enough for Tony to dwell on it. "Um, how about we go get an early lunch or something?" Tony blinks at the non-sequitur. "I, uh… I mean, you could probably use a small break at the least, right?"

Tony sighs and nods. "By all means, please guide the way, Rudolph," he says with less amusement than usual, but just as much intent.

Bruce chuckles as they turn back toward the elevator. "I'm Rudolph, huh?"

"My guiding light in all this madness? Yeah, I think it's safe to say the answer to that question is yes," he says in earnest.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Banner," Loki calls after them.

They stop and look at him. Maybe it's his imagination, but Tony doesn't like the predatory gleam in Loki's eyes. Something about his expression makes him want to angle himself between Bruce and the mischief maker.

"Oh, um, you as well. Thank you," Bruce says with a courteous nod and then turns again toward the elevator.

Tony gives Loki a long look and the other raises one eyebrow as if asking what his problem is. Tony shakes it off and follows after Bruce.

Chapter Text

Tony comes into the penthouse and his feet war over whether they should head for the bar, his bedroom, or just out the window. Well, not really that last one, but he is completely worried about how he's going to get through the next three months if it already feels like this after one week. His feet take him to the nearest sofa and he sinks down into it instead. He zones out thinking about his expectations, his plans, colors, and letters and… Bruce. His mind can't seem to run through a series of thoughts without at least one of them being about Bruce these days.

He's not quite sure how long he's zoned out, only that he doesn't think he actually dozed off or anything, but he's broken from his trance some time later with a knock on his door. He sighs.

"JARVIS, if that's Coulson, tell him I've died or something."

"OPEN UP, STARK!" The knock turns into a pound. Tony furrows his brow and gets up. He goes to open it and finds a ragtag group gathered in his foyer. "Told you we had to knock harder," Barnes says to the others with a smug smile and then pushes past Tony without actually being invited in.

Tony watches him go and then glances back at Steve, Natasha and Clint. "What's this about?"

"What's it look like?" Natasha raises a couple things of beer and then pushes past him as well.

"And pizza," Clint raises the boxes of pizza in his hand as if Tony hasn't already spotted them. Tony moves into the foyer to let him pass by unobstructed.

He then looks at Steve and down to the board games in his hand. "I know you have more, but I just brought a few to get us started," Steve says.

"Started? What is this? Unauthorized game night at Tony's place?"

Steve chuckles. "More like an intervention. You might be Santa, but that doesn't mean all of Christmas lies solely on your shoulders.And it doesn't mean you can't take a well-earned break every now and then. I don't think that's something Uncle Howard ever learned."

"Or wanted to learn," Tony says before he can check the glum thought. "Wait, you guys are the ones always busting my ass to work harder and take this seriously. Why the sudden change of—" That thought is interrupted by the sound of the elevator opening and he looks to see the very obvious answer to his question as he steps off with a large plate of something.

"Sorry, I'm late," Bruce apologizes. "The cookies took a little bit longer than I thought they would. Although, can I just say the oven downstairs is amazing?"

Tony's brain has finally short-circuited so he can't say anything, but Steve places a hand on Tony's shoulder and glances between them before saying, "Actually, Bruce, I'd say you're right on time." He glances once more at Tony and then goes into the apartment.

"You organized this?" Tony asks Bruce once they're alone. He looks at the plate. "And you made cookies?"

Bruce gives a sheepish shrug. "Well, you helped me out of a slump once so...even?"

"Even." Tony smiles. "Although, I would have rather gone dancing," he adds playfully.

Bruce's eyes go wide for a second before he says, "Next time."

"Don't think I won't remind you of that," Tony tells him. Then something occurs to him right as Bruce makes to enter the apartment. "Oh, but, uh... Natasha brought beer."

Bruce offers him a small, grateful look. "Then I guess I'll be the designated guest at this party. Make sure nobody does anything they might regret in the morning." Tony's eyebrows rise at that as there's almost something wry in his tone, but why Tony can't figure out.

Two beers, and a couple fingers of something a little harder, later Tony understands a little better what Bruce might have meant seeing as all of his pent up tension starts to ease out of him in that old, familiar way he used to cling to when he didn't have so much responsibility. He can feel his inhibitions start to get a little fuzzy around the edges – not in the tipsy sort of way, since he can take way more before that happens, rather in the warmth of general socializing and blatant distraction from his issues.

And by the way things are going it seems as if he's not the only one who gets ridiculously stressed out by this job. After a few games the vibe definitely turns towards one of a juvenile sleepover which tells him that they'd all needed this; maybe Bruce had been perceptive in all his invites. Hell, even Steve is a little looser as he and Bucky become more flirtatious and tactile with each other over the course of the evening. Tony welcomes it for all their sake, even if he isn't so far gone as to want to play strip poker, at least not with the four occupants in the room whose names aren't Bruce, when Clint suggests it.

Bruce, for his part, makes good on trying to steer things away from strip poker or truth and dare towards either another board game or charades or something else less reckless. Not that the others are making his job easy with suggestions like Seven Minutes in Heaven, the most recent one and this time from Bucky who looks all too willing to volunteer being thrust into a dark closet with Steve; in fact Tony's about to just tell them to go hit up the guest room already.

"Hell no," Bruce says with a shake of his head and small bark of laughter.

"What's wrong, doc?" Natasha lifts an eyebrow. "Nobody here you'd enjoy making out with for seven minutes?" She leans toward him in exaggerated flirtation.

Tony's eyes go wide and a sideways glance at Bruce shows him pointedly trying to ignore her question and her too. In fact, he scoots away so quickly in reaction that he practically lands in Tony's lap as close as they end up pressed together. Which, of course, only makes him all the more uncomfortable as he fumbles out an apology.

"Hey, no need," Tony says. "I'd bolt too." He drapes an arm around his shoulders before he can bolt the opposite direction.

Clint snorts. "Yeah, Nat just gets a kick out of making all men feel uncomfortable. Doesn't matter which way they swing. But," Tony glares at him, knowing he's about to go and make it worse somehow, "I'd be willing to play." He winks and then glances around in casual askance before letting his eyes settle on Tony. "Unless anyone else here would like to have a go with Banner instead?"

Bruce tenses a little and Tony does too, though probably for a different reason. "Okay, one," he jumps in to be the one to put an end to the game suggestion this time, "does anyone here even know how the game is played? Were none of you invited to parties at the Academy? You don't just get to conveniently pick who you're shoved into a closet with. Two, like Bruce has already said: Hell no. So if I don't hear any sensible ideas in the next thirty seconds I'm officially breaking out my Christmas Edition of Monopoly."

"No!" Everyone, minus Bruce, shouts at once.

"Wow." Bruce relaxes again with a chuckle. "Yeah, can't say Christmas Monopoly against a billionaire CEO Santa sounds like a good idea."

"It's an excellent idea," Tony disagrees. Bruce just hums.

"Yeah, it's about as good an idea as trying to out-pun or out-reference him," Steve joins the conversation finally. "Can't be done. We've tried. Or at least I have."

"Yeah, that was embarrassing," Tony replies in playful condescension. "I mean, 'jingle my bells' was the best you could come up with and, frankly, I've been using that as an obnoxious pickup line at Christmas parties since I was 16 at least."

Bruce snorts. "Well, at least you're self-aware enough to realize it's obnoxious," he says. "Did you also use, 'that's not a candy cane in my pocket'?"

There's a round of 'oohs' and Tony drops his arm from around Bruce in surprise. He also briefly registers he'd had his arm around Bruce comfortably that entire time.

"First of all, I have used plenty of classier pickup lines in my time," he states. "Second of all," he smirks, "that sounds like a challenge."

Bruce raises his eyebrows as the others cheer on that idea. Then with a wry smile he says, "Well, if you didn't even know to follow up, 'jingle my bells' with 'and I'll promise you a white Christmas' then I don't know how much of a challenge it would be."

"Oh fuck," Barnes says with a laugh.

"Who knew he had it in him?" Clint adds in similar humor.

And the answer to that question is: certainly not Tony. He practically reels for a moment, but then he sees a hint of second guessing from Bruce which kicks him into gear. He's known about Bruce's wit for months obviously, but he's not about to let him get shy now that he's showing it in a more confident – and openly mischievous – way.

"Oh, ho," he says with a grin, "then call me Rudolph because you just sleighed me."

Bruce rolls his eyes, then his eyes light up the same way Tony has learned they do when he's come up with some new calculation. "Well, Rudolph, I'd definitely let you join in on my reindeer games."

There's a hoot from Natasha and Tony smiles. "After a proposition like that, it sure isn't sugar plums dancing through my head."

"Sounds like you're the reason Santa has a naughty list."

"What can I say? I'm a lot like Santa. I like to give gifts all night long."

There's a round of "ohs" and cheers in his favor for that one, but his gaze doesn't waver from Bruce.

"In that case, I've got some mistletoe so how about we go back to my place and try it out?"

"I've got a better idea. How about you come over here and sit on my lap." He leans in a little. "Maybe if you've been good enough I'll give you a present."

Somebody whistles at that, but Tony isn't sure who since he and Bruce might as well be the only two people in the world. There's electricity flying between them and by the look in Bruce's eyes Tony knows he can't be the only one who feels it.

Bruce raises one eyebrow and leans in just a little as well. "No need. You're already the complete package and I'd much rather unwrap you."

A million things rush through Tony's mind while what's left of his blood rushes south. "You've got my pole headed north," he slips, going for something too cliché and obvious, which he thinks if Bruce were to glance down he'd see just how obvious.

A flicker of confusion passes across Bruce's countenance, but then with a devious twitch of his lips he replies, "Then how'd you like to take a ride in my one horse open sleigh?"

Tony's brain goes absolutely blank. The whistles and cheers from the others barely register as he struggles to think of any appropriate response to this incredibly perfect man who feels more and more like his perfect match at every turn. Tony feels his chest grow warm and the expectancy hangs in the air between them. Tony doesn't know what to do with any of it and suddenly Bruce isn't glowing, but it's almost like his eyes are. They're glowing like, like... well, like the arc reactor he wants to put in the sleigh.

Bruce's gaze starts to falter as if confused, or maybe surprised that he's actually rendered him silent, and Tony can't help blurt the first line that comes to mind.

"Are you Christmas because I want to Merry you."

Everything goes quiet except for a single startled squeak from Bruce, no doubt at the complete 180 in the tone of their exchange. Then everything falls away as Tony searches those beautiful eyes and is suddenly certain that all of these feelings aren't just his own. He surges forward and captures Bruce's lips and the other man reacts in a way that confirms it, moving to accommodate the kiss like second nature. They barely break apart after the first kiss and don't even bother seeking out the other's reaction before letting their lips slot together even more perfectly than before.

Bruce parts his lips just a little and Tony is about to take advantage of that fact, opening up his own in tandem, when all at once the others make their presence known in varying ways, including whistles and commentary that suggests it's about damn time, forcing them to break apart.

"I thought you didn't want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven," Clint says with a smirk.

"Oh god!" Bruce looks at Tony with wide eyes. "I... I, um... Was that... I just..."

"Bruce, what are you doing tomorrow night?" Tony asks before Bruce can panic a moment longer.

Bruce blinks a few times, but then he smiles in relief, and Tony thinks there's a touch of disbelief there as well. "Nothing."

"Then what would you say to a date with Santa?"

"I think I would say no," Bruce answers, and the part of Tony's brain that wants this too much to think rationally almost panics, but then he adds, "but I would say yes to a date with Tony."

❄

Tony bounces his knee anxiously as he reads through the last of the letters in today's mail. Now that it's the busy season even Saturdays require him to work a few hours since they still get mail and have an overtime shift in toy production that he has to oversee unless something more pressing requires his attention. And, no, wanting to be at home thinking of ways to make his first date with Bruce perfect apparently doesn't count as anything pressing enough to excuse him. It had been worth a shot asking though.

He sets the letter into his read box with a sigh of relief and glances at his watch. He's got a couple of hours to get ready for the date before the time he and Bruce had agreed to meet. He runs a hand through his hair and tells himself for the millionth time that he's already had a million perfect dates with Bruce and them finally calling it a date doesn't somehow mean things have to be different.

"Sir," JARVIS interrupts his thoughts, "you are needed immediately on the toy floor."

Tony furrows his brow as he rises quickly to his feet. As he leaves his office he nearly runs into Steve. He looks frenzied.

"What's going on?" Tony holds his hands up to push him back a little.

"One of the machines blew up," Steve says. Tony's eyes widen and they hurry down the hall toward the elevator.

"And was anyone—" Tony starts to ask, but Steve's face goes pale and he nods. "Shit," Tony curses. "Damn it, are they okay?"

"I don't know," Steve says. "I came straight to get you when I was alerted. A SHIELD medic is on the way last I heard."

When they get there Tony rushes immediately toward where the most workers are gathered. After a few minutes he’s relieved to ascertain that the worker had been returning to his station when it had gone up in flames and not directly next to it and seems to be mostly just banged up from the kickback. Of course as soon as the emergency SHIELD medic arrives they still take over his care just to make sure and Tony knows he’ll rest easier when it’s certain the worker will be okay.

Tony gives his attention over to hearing the stories of the other workers about the situation. Then Phil arrives and helps take over the investigation while Tony busies himself with getting the other stations back up and running since, for some reason Tony isn’t clear about, all of the stations and production lines had gone down. Sometime later, Phil taps him on the shoulder.

“Any word from medical?” Tony asks as he continues fiddling with some circuitry.

“He’s fine. He bruised a few ribs and fractured his wrist from where he was thrown back. But nothing more serious.”

“Good,” Tony says with a sigh and then furrows his brow as he stops what he's doing and looks at the other man. “Any thoughts here, Phil? I can't find anything in the main circuits that would have caused this. The explosion seems to have overloaded the breaker, not the other way around. So are we just looking at employee oversight or something malicious?"

"Probably oversight or maybe the machine just got damaged somehow and went on its own," Phil suggested. "We're going to question him when he's not so shaken up of course. But I don’t think there's any reason to assume malicious intent."

Tony nods and then looks over at the mangled station. "I'll take a look at it. See if I can spot any signs of what's left of it that it might have been any of the above." He starts to walk toward it when Coulson's hand goes out to stop him. "What?"

"Don't you have a date?"

Tony's eyes widen. He glances at the nearest wall clock and then down at his wrist for confirmation. He groans when he realizes he's nearly forty-five minutes late to meeting Bruce.

"Damn it," he spits out. "I lost track of time. I'm already doing it. First date and this is already standing in the way."

"Relax, Stark," Phil says. "I'm not saying a relationship is going to be easy for you, at least not as new as you are to this business, but let's not overreact. I'm sure Dr. Banner will understand this was a rare, unforeseeable event that took precedence."

"I know, but I still hate thinking that I didn't even let him know. I just got so caught up in this." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Am I able to go? Or do I need to text him that I've got to stay and handle this."

"That's entirely your call, Stark. We're getting to the point where you get to take the reins and make those sorts of calls without me or anyone else there to babysit you," Coulson replies. "But in this case I'd say you really don't have much reason to stick around. SHIELD can continue the investigation and you can work later on getting everything back online before Monday morning if need be."

Tony nods and glances at his watch again. "Okay," he says. "Okay, maybe I can salvage this. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Phil calls after him as he runs to the elevator.

Tony checks his appearance in the reflective glass. He definitely needs to change really quick, but some cologne or something should do with the rest of his freshening up. Better that than keep Bruce waiting longer just to play diva. It's safe to say Bruce is already aware of his appearance from CEO to lounging on the couch. Well, he should probably brush his teeth or use some mouthwash too at least, he thinks as he gets off the elevator and—

His apartment door is open. Tony debates what he should do. Call SHIELD? Call Barnes? Get back on the elevator? He opts for sticking his head into his apartment recklessly. It smells like Indian food which is… weird, but it's enough to entice him in further to satiate his curiosity.

A quick survey of his apartment shows nothing amiss, but the dinette is set nicely and there are a couple of plates of Indian food in the middle. Suddenly Bruce comes from the direction of the kitchen carrying another plate and startles slightly. Tony has nearly the same reaction.

"Oh, hey," Bruce says, regaining his composure, and then quickly sets the plate down. He then stands by the table, wringing his hands and looking down at it for a long moment before looking up at Tony. "Sorry I, um, I thought…"

"How did you get in?" Tony could kick himself forsaking that first of all the things running through his mind.

"Um, Steve," he answers in a sheepish manner. "Steve texted me about the issue, worried you might be too preoccupied to tell me. I asked him if he had a key to your apartment. Figured I might surprise you with some Indian take out instead given the circumstances." He looks down again at where he's wringing his hands still. "I, I… I probably overstepped and made it weird… I just—"

Tony crosses over to him and takes his hands into his own to stop his worrying and Bruce snaps his eyes up to look at him. "This is wonderful. I was afraid you'd be upset with me for already screwing up and letting my job come first. This is a nice surprise."

"Are you sure?" Bruce studies him. "You're not just saying that? Because I'll be honest, Tony. I've been nervous since last night."

Tony looks at him intently. "And you think I haven't?" Bruce just shrugs. "I was worried I might have, I don't know, pressured you into this somehow since it must have been obvious I've been interested for a while. I don't want you to think that you owe me this just because of a kiss in the heat of the moment or—"

"What?" Bruce practically gasps out the word in surprise, effectively cutting Tony off. "You… You, uh…" His face darkens and he pulls away from Tony's grasp, one hand going to play with some silverware on the dinette as he looks away. "I've, um," he clears his throat, "I've been interested for a while too." He glances back. "It wasn't obvious?"

Tony blinks several times. "There were moments I thought maybe," Tony admits. "But no, nothing obvious. Or maybe nothing I would let myself assume was obvious. Until last night," he revises.

Bruce's cheeks look even more flushed now. "Um, yeah, I… I wondered too at times," he admits. "But I told myself it was ridiculous to let myself think Tony Stark could… you know." He shrugs. "And then you turned out to be Santa and that… That was a little terrifying…" He looks away for a second only to look right back. "Especially when I realized I still had feelings for you. I mean, it's one thing to have feelings for a billionaire playboy… But Santa Claus? That really confused me a little. And it seemed even more like maybe you might, you know, feel the same way, but then I couldn't be sure…"

"So essentially we should have our adult cards revoked since we were acting like nervous teenagers about this?" Tony asks, hoping to put Bruce at ease.

"I guess so," Bruce says with a small chuckle.

"So, we're good then? You're okay that Tony Stark aka Santa Claus has sort of been crushing on you for months?"

"Um, working on it," Bruce says with an embarrassed sort of smile. "But like I said last night, I'm definitely okay that Tony has been."

"Good," Tony says with a goofy smile of his own. "Because he has been. And he didn't want to scare you off with the Santa thing." They hold their gaze for a long moment and then Tony can't resist saying, "So, Indian food?"

❄

Tony was right in his assumption that this date would be a lot like the other times he's spent alone with Bruce. Once they understand that both of them want this the first date jitters pass away, at least they do for Tony, and it feels familiar and comfortable, although that doesn't at all make it feel like it's boring.

The thrill is still there whenever Bruce laughs. The thrill is still there when their science-tracked minds land on the topic. The thrill is still there when they talk about everything and when they talk about nothing. And the thrill is definitely still there when they touch, hands brushing and legs brushing over dinner or now as they stand on Tony's balcony pressed side to side. In fact, the thrill is amplified as Tony hopes that this works out between them as long as possible so he can selfishly have all of these thrills without feeling guilty that he feels more than he should for his friend.

Of course, he also realizes that while all of the familiarity and warmth feels right, in ways he probably shouldn't get ahead of himself over, it's still their first date and he wants to make some sort of statement. He maybe can't help himself being who he is, but he wants there to be something just a tad more special for them to remember it by other than an accident waylaid their original dinner plans and led to a cozy first date.

"I almost didn't come to Manhattan," Bruce says as they stand on the balcony and Tony's thoughts wander at the speed of light. "I thought about staying where I was and looking for a job there. I thought about heading to California. I thought about leaving the country altogether for a while, finding some place where nobody knew me to start over."

Tony understands his meaning and uses it as an opportunity to wrap his arm around Bruce's shoulders as he says, "I'm glad you came to Manhattan anyway."

Bruce nods. "Figured it was as good a big city as any to get lost in. That or maybe I wanted to torture myself being so near the heart of the science community here on the East Coast."

"Or maybe you were hopeful if you stayed close enough you'd be part of it again," Tony offers more positively.

Bruce gives a low, neutral hum. "I was just wondering, if I'd gone elsewhere, would Dr. Selvig still thought of me? If I hadn't happened to run into him would he have even thought to track me down and talk me into applying?"

"I'd like to think he would have," Tony says, but he knows how these things can be. "But only because I can't imagine this place without you now," he says, turning to look at Bruce more head on. Bruce turns his head to meet his gaze. "It's… I know it sounds crazy, but it's almost like you're supposed to be here. And if I can be Santa and Charles can be a telepath and all of this can be real, then maybe it also has a way of finding people that are supposed to be a part of this craziness."

"Well," Bruce says and looks back out over the skyline and then lifts his gaze up toward the sky, "I don't want to imagine a life where I didn't end up part of this craziness so…" He nods. "I'll go with your hopeful theory."

Tony smiles. "And you're here now so there's no need to worry about the what ifs anyway, right?" Tony looks up at the sky with him. "After all, that NDA is a bitch to hassle with if you change your mind."

Bruce breaks out into a short fit of laughter at Tony's joke and Tony loves the sound of it as it feels the air around them. His eyes widen as suddenly a thought comes to him. He looks back at Bruce and waits for him to stop laughing.

"Yeah, there's that," Bruce replies.

"So, why don't we banish those gloomy what ifs with something tangible," Tony suggests vaguely at first and waits for Bruce's face to scrunch in slight confusion as it usually does. Tony takes a deep breath, stamps down his giddiness, and asks, "How would you like to take a ride in the sleigh?"

 "I... you mean..." Bruce blinks in absolute surprise. He seems to be wrestling with something before he asks, "Is that against the rules?" Tony realizes Bruce had been wrestling between his interest in that idea and his sense of propriety. 

"None that I'm immediately aware of," Tony answers. "In fact," he says pointing and heads back into the penthouse, "a couple of my fondest memories were the two years right after I learned that my dad was Santa and he actually took me out in the sleigh with him."

"That sounds nice," Bruce's voice trails behind him. "But was that Christmas? Can you just take it out at any time you want? Isn't that dangerous?"

"I appreciate your attempt to be my conscience," Tony stops and turns to him with a genuine smile, "but it's fine. Since I have to test the sleigh occasionally before Christmas we have impeccable shielding at all times. As long as I can keep from crashing into anything we're good."

Bruce barks out a laugh. "In that case maybe I should definitely say no."

"Oh ye of little faith," Tony quips. "And that implies your answer is yes."

"Well, it's not everyday Santa offers you a ride in his sleigh." He shrugs and gives a small smirk. "I figure I might as well commit to the crazy one hundred percent."

Tony smiles wide and makes a beeline for the elevator. Bruce follows behind although there's still a bit of hesitance in his steps. When they get into the workshop Tony keeps one eye on Bruce's awed expression, just as awed as the first time, while he goes over to a rack of wind resistant jackets. Thankfully there's a couple so Bruce can have one too.

"There's a retractable roof if it gets to be too much, but definitely need a windbreaker up there," he explains as he hands one of the jackets to Bruce.

"I was wondering about that last time actually," Bruce says as he puts it on. "What you do in the elements. Obviously I see it's not the exactly traditional sleigh I was expecting," he says with a point to the addition of windshield.

"It's retractable too and there are other windows," Tony says as he jumps into the driver seat and hits a button causing windows to come out all along the sides of the sleigh from a hidden compartment. Then he retracts them again since Bruce can't get in very easily otherwise; Tony wonders if he should do away with the open sleigh design and go with a more automobile design with doors in the future. "So there's options. And heat for when it gets cold. There's also a blanket and some emergency gear in the glove compartment," Tony gives him more of a rundown of the inner workings of the sleigh, since last time Bruce had been more interested in the history of the sleigh and what engineering it used to fly.

"No seat belts?" Bruce asks with a raised eyebrow after settling in beside him and looking around.

Tony chuckles nervously. "Um, that would be a no."

"Seems unsafe," Bruce replies. "Airbags at least?"

"Also no," Tony says, and makes a mental note of Bruce's suggestions. "There are emergency parachutes."

Bruce looks at him with a blank expression. "Well, that's reassuring," he says and Tony offers him a manic smile as he hits a button to start the engine and then another to retract the roof of the workshop. Bruce's head immediately snaps upward and his eyes widen. "Oh god," he mumbles and visibly swallows.

"For your safety, please remain seated and keep your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the sleigh at all times," Tony jokes as he hits the button for the under propellers and the sleigh begins to slowly ascend out of the workshop and up into the night sky above Stark Tower. Bruce's hands grip the seats and he looks around and up and down in a frantic sort of study of what's happening. Tony gives a soft chortle and then hits the button to close the roof again. They hover in the air for a moment before Tony hits the thrusters and the sleigh flies forward. Bruce falls sideways and he latches onto Tony's arm with both hands to steady himself. "For your safety you may also keep your hands on Santa at all times," Tony teases. 

"Seat belts," Bruce says firmly as he rights himself. "It needs seat belts. I... I have half a mind to track down your father and ask him what the hell he was thinking taking a kid up in a sleigh without seat belts." Tony chuckles at the thought. "It's irresponsible."

"Alright, alright," Tony acquiesces. "I'll definitely add seat belts and promise not to take any kids up in the sleigh without them."

"You better not," Bruce retorts, but he seems to be getting his bearings and starts to look around at the view.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Tony asks when he steers the sleigh out past the island so they can take in the view of all of Manhattan at once.

"It is," Bruce admits. "I can see why you're excited about this part."

Tony smiles and then sets the sleigh on a course down the coast toward warmer air and clearer skies. "I'm going to take the sleigh higher," he warns. "Are you okay with that?"

Bruce is broken from his state of reverie. "I... um." He doesn't seem to know how to answer.

"We'll just take it gentle," Tony says and works through the controls that begins the ascent. Slowly the sleigh tilts and then begins a climb.

"Nope," Bruce says when it starts to get a little steeper. He shakes his head and looks at Tony. "Nope, I don't... Don't think this is okay. Changed my mind."

Tony reaches out and places his hand on Bruce's shoulder to hopefully ground him and he concedes to Bruce's apprehension by steadying out the sleigh rather than letting it climb too much higher. Bruce immediately sighs in relief. It's for the best anyhow since he's not sure Bruce's lungs would appreciate much more. In fact, he seems to be breathing in heavily, but he's not sure how much of that is from his previous nerves. And Tony realizes then that his eyes are closed tight.

"You're crazy," Bruce suddenly breaks the silence, a mixture of disbelief and amusement in his tone. "You're fucking crazy."

Tony laughs. "Yes, but look around and tell me it's not worth being a little crazy."

Bruce takes another deep breath and opens his eyes. He does so with a gasp as he takes in the clear view of stars above and distant city lights like stars below. It's like looking through the small window of an airplane on grander, unobstructed scale.

"It's..." Bruce looks around with wide eyes, open mouth and a glow so bright that the whole sleigh lights up and yet Bruce doesn't even seem to notice. "It's beautiful," Bruce finally whispers reverently.

Tony hits autopilot and scoots in closer. He guides Bruce to look at him with the hand that had been on his shoulder. "Beautiful," he agrees, but he doesn't mean the stars.

For some reasons Bruce's eyes widen just before they close in tandem with Tony's and their lips meet in a perfect kiss. 

Chapter Text

"So I was thinking I could probably manage to make the arc reactor even smaller. That way it doesn't kill the aerodynamics. Plus it won't throw off the cool streamlined design."

Bruce hums into Tony's neck where his head is tucked just under Tony's chin. "As long as you still have a back-up power source just in case," he says.

"Are you doubting my brilliance?"

"Nope," Bruce shakes his head and then shifts a little and Tony can tell that he's glancing up at his face. "But I'd rather you not risk your life just in case the tech doesn't do what your brilliance wants it to."

Tony smiles. "Well, I can't begrudge your skepticism when you put it that way," he says and then cranes his neck a little awkwardly, Bruce doing so in tandem, so they can share a small, lazy peck. Then they settle back into their previous position of lazy morning lounging in bed. "Don't worry. I'll have the old standby energy source."

"Were there really flying reindeer?" Bruce asks in a curious, sleepy tone after a few minutes of quiet.

"Sure," Tony says. He loves when Bruce starts asking questions about the complex history of the business at random. "Didn't they cover that in orientation?"

"A little," Bruce answers. "But just that they were real and they were phased out around sixty years ago. The details were so sparse it still seems a little hard to believe."

"Good old, SHIELD," Tony comments with a sigh. "Well, they were phased out for a lot of reasons. When the family moved down the coast it was harder to keep up their care and it made Christmas Eve a little harder since the sleigh had to be rigged in a different location. Then there were the concerns about their safety altogether with the increasing use of commercial aircraft."

"That makes sense," Bruce replies. "But how come nobody has ever seen reindeer fly? You'd think we'd learn that in school if it were true. And the biology isn't even there for it."

Tony smiles at Bruce's critical mind since it meshes so well with his own. "Well, technically our common reindeer don't," he explains. "The flying kind are the offspring of a handful of reindeer-like creatures brought to us from Thor ages ago. They eventually interbred with our reindeer so not all descendants of those original even fly. And those reindeer have always been closely watched over by the Santa family or those in on the secret so it's just another thing not really known to the rest of the world. That was easier back in the day, obviously. We still have some remaining on a carefully guarded reindeer habitat. You know, just in case."

Bruce sighs and shakes his head. "You know, I still think this might all be a dream," he says. Tony opens his mouth to respond, but before he can Bruce props up and looks down at him with a small, sleepy smile and – ironically – dreamy expression. Tony cards a hand up into his hair. "But it's a good dream. So I hope I never wake up." He leans down then, Tony helping along with the guiding of his hand, and they share a long, languid series of kisses.

"Sir, may I remind you of Fury's warning if you—"

Tony breaks the kiss with a groan. "Got it, JARVIS." Then he looks at Bruce with regret. "Wish I could just call in," he says with a shake of his head as they both sit up in Tony's bed. "But you know, this meeting is important."

"Well, it's officially two months until Christmas so I'd say so," Bruce replies.

"Yeah, so I'll probably be at SHIELD most of the day," he says in an apologetic tone. Bruce just nods in understanding. "But I promise you I will be back in time for the thing tonight."

"You know, it's really okay if you can't do it. You didn't realize there'd be the meeting when you volunteered to come along. I understand." He shrugs and starts to get out of bed, but Tony pulls him back, rolling over adeptly and pinning him underneath him on the bed. Bruce's eyes are wide with confusion and maybe a touch of sudden morning arousal. "Um… the meeting—"

"Is not as important as you. Or those kids for that matter." And he means that, both as Tony and as Santa. "I promised you I would be there and I'm not going to get into the habit of breaking my promises at the first bit of asinine pressure from Fury. And I'm for damn sure not going to let you get into the habit of trying to excuse that kind of behavior."

He looks at Bruce intently and Bruce matches his look for a moment before his expression softens into a happy one that Tony then mirrors. Naturally they act on Tony's declaration by extending their time together just a little bit more.

❄

"We're going into the home stretch here," Fury says to the gathered SHIELD agents, as well as Tony and Steve. "Come November 1^st, we all know it'll become a madhouse. And Santa is just one man who will have many priorities vying for his attention."

"Finally, recognition," Tony hails.

Fury rolls his eye and barrels on. "It is our job now to do everything in our power to keep the operation running smoothly on our end so Stark can focus all of his attention on letters, production oversight, and Santa subterfuge. You know the drill people. Come December 24^th, we should be ready with the most accurate forecast and efficient flight pattern and drop schedule possible. Toy delivery from Stark Tower to our three helicarriers will begin promptly on December 1st."

Tony lets his head fall back on his shoulders and he shakes it as he looks up at the ceiling. Fury drones on and on about protocol and expectations and just when he's sure it's over, he brings Commander Hill up. Then she starts going on and on about preliminary test flights and the first map of the season they've drawn up based on those already confirmed on the nice list and confirmed already.

"Did you hear that, Santa?"

"Huh?" Tony comes back from where his thoughts were wandering and blinks several times to see that Fury is the one talking again. "Oh, apparently not. I mean, I was listening. Wait," his brain processes the words he'd been only partially listening to, "did you say Christmas spirit is at an all-time high?"

"I did," Fury confirms and then the map appears on the large screen. "For this time of year, and given the current emotional climate in certain places of the world, we're seeing a record increase in Christmas spirit with less fluctuation than is typically expected."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Stark," Fury clips in a somewhat impatient tone, "that in the years that SHIELD has been tracking this officially, this is unprecedented. We are seeing an exponential rise in Christmas spirit all across the world. We're seeing hope where there shouldn't be any. We're seeing people fighting to believe in something. Where there is oppression and hatred, we're seeing a counter-force of charity."

"Okay, wow," Tony says, unsure of what else he can. "I mean, that's amazing." The information starts to really sink in and it makes him inexplicably happy as well as determined not to ruin it somehow. "So, do we know why? And what do we do? I mean, as the Santa machine? How do we respond? Obviously we want to foster this somehow, right?"

Fury blinks at him and then shares a glance with Phil who gives the director a grin that Tony swears says, 'I told you so.' Then Nick looks back. "We have a pretty good idea. What we do as a team is what we always do. We keep up the hard work."

"That's it?" Tony is incredulous to say the least. "Nothing more proactive? We can't just leave this to chance, Nick. Clearly there's something there in the data. Something we need to mine and utilize. Maybe this is a rare gift. If it is, we need to seize it. Make it count for something."

"Alright, Santa," Fury raises a hand and gestures for him to come take his place, "why don't you come up here and tell us what you would suggest instead. This is, after all, your call ultimately."

"Uh…" Tony hesitates for half a moment before shrugging and giving it his best shot. He moves to stand in front of the group. He studies the map for a moment, then he looks back. "Okay, look, I know we can't be sure what this is, even if we have a hunch." He throws a curious glance at Fury and Coulson when he realizes there hadn't been a direct sharing of what they thought it might be. He shrugs it off for the time being and focuses back on his audience at large. "But I say we shouldn't just sit on it by doing the same thing as we always do. If it's the same thing as we've always done, why the sudden change? Clearly what we see here is people wanting something more and finding it somehow. I think…  I think that means we should try to do more too."

He pauses, considering where to go with that. He suddenly recalls a conversation with Phil and then his promise to Bruce that morning. He suddenly recalls that game night that had led to his going for it with Bruce and how his friends had all needed the break. Like an epiphany a new idea occurs to him. 

"But before you freak out," he says quickly, "I'm not at all suggesting we do more work." He doesn't want that for himself so why would he expect it of his employees? "Everyone already does a lot as it is, but at the same time we miss the point if we forget about, well, ourselves in the process. We're all individuals here. We aren't some monolith Santa. This isn't a hive. We have lives that we go home and live. Some of us go home together." He winks at some of them in a rousing manner. "And some of you if you don't, your coworkers are betting on you. So you should get with the program already." There's some laughter.   

He pauses for a moment, deliberating before continuing. "I want to know how many of you here are happy yourselves, huh? This job demands a lot from all of us and I think if some of us were to be honest, even if we believe in the, well, the cause so to speak, it doesn't mean we always enjoy our jobs." He thinks of what he'd told Bruce that night he found out the secret. He thinks of how Bruce had stayed because he wanted to be happy. "So for some of you, I think you need to put your foot down and reevaluate whether or not this job is keeping you from enjoying your life. Are you putting this job above your family? Are you avoiding relationships altogether because you don't have time? If so, I want that to stop. Because I can guaranteed that doing those things is the exact opposite of what most of those people out there are doing.

"Forget what Director Fury has said. Yes, this takes all of you working together. Yes, I can't do this job without you. But your lives, your relationships, those are more important in the end. I want you all to take care of you and yours first. I want you to work harder on the things that matter to you."

He pauses when he hears murmuring amidst the agents. He takes that time to look at the map again, studying it with a sigh. He tilts his head and then another conversation echoes in his memory.

"And, you know," he gets everyone's attention again, "maybe what we're seeing here isn't even something we should be so surprised about." He looks back again. "These people who are finding their Christmas spirit, maybe it was always there and they just needed to be given some kind of chance to discover it. Or rediscover it as it may be for some. I don't think we can force Christmas spirit onto people. That's not our job, so pushing ourselves needlessly gets us nowhere in the end. Maybe I'm not making sense and maybe I'm wrong, but if we have more time for our families and friends, or for the world outside SHIELD, or Stark Tower as it may be for those employees there, then maybe we'll better understand how it is we can best bring holiday cheer to these people and to those people who are still struggling."

He raises his hands in a broad shrug, but immediately draws them closer to himself and looks down in confusion. There's a faint, bluish glow. He narrows his eyes in intense study. It reminds him of—

His train of thought is broken by the sound of applause. He glances up to see Steve has stood to his feet and is applauding him; the others all follow. Tony straightens a little in sincere shock at the response. But then he remembers his hands and glances down again only to see the colorful halo is gone. He blinks his eyes and lets his hands drop.

"Leave it to Tony Stark to be the Santa that says less work the better," Hill says as she comes back over.

"You know that's not what I meant," he counters.

To his surprise her ever-stern expression falters just a little and she nods. "I know. And maybe you have a point."

"I think he does," Phil says, interjecting with a wide smile. "I think he does."

"So, um," Tony glances at his watch, "does this mean the meeting's over? Because I have the—"

"—thing with Dr. Banner," Phil finishes knowingly, the reminder that Santa's minute-to-minute schedule is kept firm track of this time of year.

"Yes, that. And if we're done, I was thinking I might be able to surprise him by getting back in time to have dinner first."

"You can go," Nick clips with a single nod. Tony doesn't know if he's annoyed with him right now or if it's just Fury being his usual, brusque self.

"Hey, about that," Steve interrupts and that's when he realizes he'd even approached at all, "Bucky and I were thinking—"

"Oh for crying out—" He huffs. "I don't need a bodyguard at a fall carnival."

"What? No, that's not what I was going to say," Steve counters, genuinely looking stricken by Tony's outburst. Tony feels guilty and startled both. He and Steve have always walked the fine line between getting along and wanting to strangle each other, but maybe he should work on that.

He starts by apologizing "Sorry. Habit. What were you going to say?"

Steve shrugs slowly as he says, "I was just going to say Bucky and I were talking and we'd like to go. Either if they need more volunteers or, you know, just to support the kids with our attendance. Thought we could ride with you? Or meet up and walk if that's what you were planning to do. I mean I have to finish up here," he glances at Hill who nods in confirmation, "but I think I'll be back in time."

"Oh." Tony blinks. Then he smiles. "Yeah, sure. I'll let Bruce know and text you the details and you can keep me updated on when you're done. He'll love it that you guys want to be there."

"It sounds like fun," Clint interjects then. "Maybe I'll check it out too." He glances at Natasha with a hitch of his shoulder. She tilts her head in consideration.

Tony smiles wider. "Well, okay. Great. Let me know what you decide. I’m going to just—"

"Wait, Stark," Fury says and Tony freezes. He looks at him. "First of all, I just want to say that was a good speech. Second of all," he glances down at his phone with a shake of his head, "I think we need to have a little chat with Darcy about some of her recent handling of the social media accounts."

"Oh the 'What if Santa were gay?' poll?" Tony asks with a sharp smile. "Yeah, that was fun." Nick doesn't seem as impressed. "Fine, we'll, schedule a meeting or something to go over it. But, seriously, Nick. If we're really going to increase Christmas spirit then we have to start actively campaigning for the Christmas spirit of marginalized groups. They're entitled to imagine Santa the way they want to. Those who disagree, well, maybe they don't have any Christmas spirit anyhow."

Fury's lips are drawn into a thin line and he narrows his eye at him for a moment before nodding again. "We'll schedule a meeting to go over it," he concedes and then stalks away.

"Alright. Well, now that that's settled. Santa out," he says and turns to leave.

"We know!" Clint heckles after him and Tony snorts.

He gets to the elevator before being stopped again, this time by Phil. "Well, I might make it back in time to have dinner with Bruce."

"Don't worry. This will only take a few seconds," Coulson promises. "I think you're ready to know a few things, Mr. Stark." Tony's eyes widen, but then he glances at his watch. "No, not now," Phil says with a chuckle. "But I just wanted you to know I think you're ready now. So we'll talk soon."

❄

Tony walks into the labs and is prepared to shout, 'Honey, I'm home!' Only he's too surprised at the sight of Loki there yet again. Two visits in such a short span of time is unusual when he's gone years without ever dropping by. More than that, though, is the fact that Loki is not only visiting; he's talking to Bruce. Red flags go up in Tony's head and he quickly marches across the floor, ignoring any confused glances from other scientists still there.

"Cold weather doesn't bother me too much," he hears Bruce say, with a small shrug, as he approaches. "I think my body runs on the warm side."

Loki glances at Tony. So Tony knows he knows he's there when Loki says, "Hmm, I'd say it certainly does."

"Um, okay," Bruce stammers and looks extremely uncomfortable. "I'm seeing someone, but, uh, thanks I guess."

"Oh, yes. I've heard."

"Then you should know Santa is the 'back off, he's mine' type," Tony intervenes, wrapping an arm around Bruce's shoulders.

"Oh, Tony," Bruce says in surprise. "Hey, you’re back earlier than you were counting on," he then adds with a smile.

"Yeah. Guess it’s a good thing too," he says, trying to lighten the mood of the confrontation. "What with the sudden temptation being presented to you. Good answer by the way." He squeezes his shoulders and Bruce chuckles.

"Well, it was touch and go for a few seconds. I was definitely tempted," he teases back.

"But I guess I can't compete with Santa Claus, can I?" Loki drawls. Tony turns his head to look back at him suspiciously. He doesn't trust him and the Frost Giant isn't doing anything to help his cause with his sudden interest in Bruce.

"So, more business on Midgard?" he questions. "Other than harassing Santa's boyfriend?"

"Ah, Santa's boyfriend," Loki repeats. "Can't say I've ever heard that one before. You know I almost suspect you enjoy the idea of being the rebel Santa." He gives him a sharp smile.

"As if you're one to talk." Tony scoffs. "Why are you really here?"

Loki raises both hands and spreads them in a showy fashion. "It’s as you said. Some more business."

"He needs to speak with Jane,” Bruce supplies. "But she forgot to take a lunch and so stepped out for an early dinner. You know how it is. She's got that celestial event that she's been really been gearing up for."

Loki gives a derisive sounding hmph. “Yes. And mother has sent me in Thor's absence to extend a chart to aid her in her mapping of the heavens for your quaint scientific studies."

"We're progressing well enough," Bruce says in defense of human science and Tony inwardly cheers him on.

"Of course," Loki says as if actually put in his place although it's clear he hasn't changed his opinion.

"Well, give Frigga our thanks for extending the aid to our quaint scientists," Tony says with as much of a smile as he can manage to end the conversation. "I'm going to steal your company. Sorry. But he and I have a date."

Bruce turns a little and looks at him in surprise. "It's still early for that."

"I know, but I was thinking since I did get done early now we can have dinner before we go. What do you say?"

"Oh. Okay," he agrees without hesitating. "Let me just get this all closed down for the night. Be with you in a minute."

"Got it." Tony lets him be as he's implied and Loki, for what it's worth, gets the point too by following after Tony.

"He's quite something," Loki says and Tony stops in his tracks to narrow his eyes on him. "Oh, don't get the wrong idea. He's attractive, certainly. In his own way. But he's not my type. In fact, I'm a little surprised that he's yours."

"Why wouldn't he be?" Tony goes on the defense. "He's attractive, absolutely brilliant, and he might seem unassuming at first, but he keeps me on my toes. I just love being with him. Not sure how that wouldn't be my type."

"Ah, quite smitten then are we? He makes you happy," he says like it's a fact, and it is. Loki tilts his head and his smile sharpens. "You don't have to tell me. I can see it. Santa has found his happiness."

"Uh…" Tony feels a little stunned, but before he can respond to the unexpected fascination in his love life Bruce is with him. "Yes," he says in delayed response and shakes his head. "Alright, well, as I said. We have a date so, later, Loki. Try to go easy on us with the winter this year could you?"

"We shall see," Loki replies. "We shall see."

"Why do I get the feeling that means not a chance," Tony mumbles in exasperation. Then he and Bruce nod a farewell to him and head for the elevator. "So, what would you like to do? We can grab a bite out. Or we can hit the cafeteria. Or we can head up to my place and see what I've got."

"I don't know. Your cupboards were looking a little bare this morning," Bruce teases him as the elevator doors open. "I wouldn't mind grabbing a bite somewhere," he then answers.

"Alright, sounds good," Tony says as he turns and hits the button. As the elevator doors close, Tony realizes Loki is watching them and something about his look leaves him unsettled.

❄

Tony and Bruce can barely contain their laughter as they finish up their session with the photographer hired for the fall carnival, a teenager volunteering his services – although Tony suspects he's doing it because of that other teenage volunteer he keeps stealing long glances at. They're told they can pick up their photos in about thirty minutes and are shooed away to allow the next people in line take a turn, though not without a quick, "By the way, I love your work" aimed at both of them. Tony smiles at that as he and Bruce walk around the carnival in search of something else to do while they take a break between their volunteer shifts.

"This is turning out great," Bruce says idly as they do.

"It is," Tony agrees. He has to admit, he loves seeing all of the kids from the children's home, the one Bruce volunteers most of his time to, having fun while the home raises money for the community and raises awareness about fostering and adoption in general. He plans on making a sizable donation without fanfare before he leaves even if it's already supported by his mother's foundation. "And I'm glad the others decided to tag along," he decides. He glances over to where currently Steve and Bucky are taking a shift, overseeing one of the booths alongside one of the kids from the home.

"Me too," Bruce says, looking in the same direction.

"Hey, Mr. Bruce!" They're suddenly interrupted and they turn to see one of the kids, a boy waving at them. "Wanna have your face painted?"

Bruce's goodwill seems to waver just a little so Tony baits him with, "Yeah, I think that sounds like fun." Bruce shoots him a withering look before giving in with a sigh and heading over to the booth. Tony follows.

"Oh wow," the boy says. "I thought you'd say no like everyone else."

"Like everyone else?" Bruce questions with a small frown as he sits down in the chair.

"Yeah, they don't want their whole faces painted. They just want pictures and I can't really draw all that well. And I don't get that anyhow. I mean face painting is face painting. Why not paint the whole thing?" Bruce glances up at Tony with wide eyes, obviously panicking over the idea and also not knowing how to let the kid down now that he was there.

"Well," Tony indulges, "I think that makes perfect sense. So after you paint his face, I want my face painted too."

"Really?" the boy and Bruce say at the same time, although in completely different tones: one eager, the other incredulous.

"Really," he answers.

"Alright, Peter," Bruce says, sounding like a brave soldier Tony thinks bemusedly, "have at it. By the way, Tony, this is Peter Quill. Peter, this is—"

"Tony Stark," he says. "Only the richest, coolest, smartest, old guy around. I mean, not cooler than you, but he's on all the magazines. And he gets to date all the babes."

Tony winces and Bruce chokes on a laugh. "Well, I'm definitely dating a babe right now," Tony says, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Oh god, no, Tony," Bruce says.

"Mr. Bruce, are you blushing?" Peter asks, leaning in to inspect him.

"He's embarrassed by being called a babe," Tony explains and waits for the light bulb to go off in the kid's head.

"Oh," he says, leaning back. He considers it for a second and then shrugs as he grabs a paint brush. "That's cool. And Mr. Bruce deserves somebody rich and nice," he says and Tony has to smile at his incessant chatter, although for a second it goes suspiciously quiet. Then he says, "I mean, he's the only one who gets it when I talk about mama."

Bruce clears his throat. "Uh, Peter, are you painting my face green?"

"Yeah. I think green suits you." Tony's eyes widen. "I think I'll paint Mr. Stark's face red. Then you can be like Christmas colors. I don't know why, but that seems kind of cool."

"You a fan of Christmas?" Tony can't help asking and Bruce glances up at him knowingly.

Peter shrugs. "Sure, I guess. You get gifts at Christmas, so that's cool." Tony can tell by his behavior towards him that Peter doesn't believe in Santa. "But it can also be sorta hard when you don't have family, you know? Christmas makes me miss mama and gramps." Tony frowns. "Mr. Bruce understands. Don't you?"

Tony's frown turns into confusion and he looks at Bruce. Bruce glances up at him warily and then sighs as Peter goes on painting his face without pause. "Yeah, I understand. Holidays can be hard when you miss someone."

"Before she got really, really sick, she'd say maybe Santa would bring her health so I know she wanted me to believe."

Tony's breath hitches and he feels Bruce's eyes on him. "So… you, you blamed Santa?"

"Nah," the little boy says after a moment. "I had a feeling he probably wasn't real. I asked one year when I was really little, but I get it now. Even if he was real, Santa doesn't make people better. He just brings toys. I think mama just wanted me to try and believe. And she loved Christmas so I try to be happy at Christmas for her still. Even if I don't believe in Santa." Peter glances up at him. "I mean, I'd be sort of silly if I believed in Santa at my age, right? I'm ten now."

"You're talking to the wrong guy, Peter," Bruce says gently. "Tony still believes in Santa. Very much."

"Oh. Oh I wasn't trying to say you're silly," he quickly apologizes and begins painting Bruce's face again with renewed fervor as a distraction.

"It's… It's fine," Tony replies. He's never really been face-to-face with a kid that doesn't believe in Santa. It feels weird. It feels wrong. It feels like he needs to fix it somehow, but he doesn't know where to begin.

"A lot of people stop believing in Santa at some point or another," Bruce takes over the conversation. "Even if they start believing again later," he adds meaningfully. "And I think it's very brave that you still tried for your mother. Even braver that you don't blame Santa. I… I did for a while."

"What?" Tony gasps the question and Bruce looks up at him with such a sad, guilty expression that Tony can barely stand it.

"I, um," he clears his throat and looks down at his lap. "I was, oh, I think three when I stopped believing in Santa."

"Because he didn't bring you what you wanted for Christmas?" Peter asks.

"No," he shakes his head, "because he did." Peter looks as confused as Tony feels. "He brought me this really cool erector set. I remember sneaking downstairs early, opening it up and being so excited that I got to building something straight away." He closes his eyes tight and his face wrenches up. "Only, if Santa had known how miserable that Christmas morning was going to be for me on account of it maybe he would have given me something simple. Like, I don't know, a teddy bear." e doesn't give specifics, but of the few bits and pieces Bruce has felt comfortable to share about his home life now that they've been dating it isn't hard for Tony to guess it has something to do with Bruce's abusive father. "I got really mad at Santa for a little while because of it. But then I started thinking about it a little later and I thought to myself, Santa probably isn't even real because he wouldn't have let it happen if he really was, because Santa is supposed to be good and all-knowing."

"Bruce…"

Bruce opens his eyes and sees the sad look on Peter's face, who has stopped painting, and then looks up at Tony. He seems suddenly regretful of sharing his story. "I'm… I'm sorry. I—"

Peter gives Bruce a hug before he can finish. "You shouldn't be sorry," he says. "You didn't do nothing wrong."

Tony opens his mouth to try and help when it happens. Bruce wraps his arms around Peter to return the hug and both start glowing. Bruce glows green and Peter is a sort of star-like yellowish-white. Neither are particularly happy in this moment so it certainly can't be happiness that causes it, or at least not happiness alone. He hadn't been happy when he'd been giving his speech earlier either. Tony furrows his brow as the two pull apart and continue to glow as they share a few words between them that Tony doesn't quite register because his mind is racing. Then a couple of kids run by and Tony blinks and whips his head in the direction they go; they're glowing too. He looks around him at the carnival and several people, young and old, are glowing. He looks for Steve and Bucky and they're glowing. When his eyes land on Clint and Natasha they're glowing too. He raises his arms and hands and realizes, he's glowing again.

They're all glowing and in Bruce and Peter's case it doesn't even make sense. They've both lost so much from what Tony can tell. They're both very sad and yet— And yet in spite of it they have Christmas spirit!

Tony looks around a few more times as realization dawns in his mind. He's seeing people's Christmas spirit, not just a magical map of it, but in person. Even the ones who don't believe, or realize they believe, have it. He still has no clue why he sees it at random, but there's no doubt in his mind what it is now. Like Phil had said, he just somehow knows.

"Tony?" Tony looks down at Bruce. His glow is starting to fade and his eyes are wide. Wide and— glowing like that night they first kissed. With sudden clarity Tony realizes that it's his own glow reflecting in Bruce's eyes. "Tony, you… Uh… I…" He stands up, glow vanishing. "I need to get something to drink or something." He looks down at Peter apologetically. "Can we finish this a little later?"

"I guess so," Peter says and watches Bruce go with a strange expression. Then he looks at Tony. "Did I make him mad?"

"No, I don't think so," Tony assures him. "In fact, I think you made him feel really good. You're a cool kid, Peter. I'll be back for my face painting too," he tells him. "I'm just gonna go make sure he's okay."

"Good," Peter says. "Because you'd be a bad boyfriend if you didn't," he says bluntly and Tony snorts and nods.

"And I don't want to be," he agrees before heading after Bruce. He finds him pacing in a secluded spot. "Bruce?"

Bruce stops. He studies Tony for a long moment, blinks and then rubs at his eyes. "I think I'm going crazy."

Tony has a hunch, as crazy as it does seem, and says, "You're not."

"Um, not so sure about that—"

"You see them too?"

“Them?”

Tony glances around and then lowers his voice. “Colors?”

“Um…” Bruce furrows his brow. “No. No, I… Wait, you see colors?” Then he shakes his head. “No. I don’t…don’t think so.” He still seems confused and flustered. “But you…you were glowing. I guess it was kind of blue. It’s not the first time either. But before I just figured it might be my imagination. But this time… I can’t justify it. I must be crazy.”

“You’re not,” Tony tells him again. “I see it too. I glow sometimes.” Bruce blinks rapidly. “But you didn’t see anyone else?”

“No… Were there others?”

“Uh yeah. Just about everyone. Even you.”

“Me?” Bruce startles back a little.

“Yes. You…” Tony sighs. “I promised myself I wouldn’t keep any secrets from you. I would have told you about this too eventually. You know. When I figured it out myself. But I wasn’t counting on this part." He fumbles a little as Bruce looks at him expectantly. "Um so yeah I see all kinds of colorful, glowing people. And… I have since that night I told you my secret.” Bruce’s eyes widen. “You were glowing green right before I blurted it out.”

“Okay…” Bruce seems uncertain. “So… glowing people… Is this another Santa thing?”

“Apparently, but SHIELD hasn’t been forthcoming on the details. I’m almost certain it has something to do with Christmas spirit. But I don’t know anything beyond that.”

Bruce takes in a deep breath and nods. “Okay. But… But I’m not Santa.”

Tony puffs out his cheeks and then exhales and shakes his head. "I don't know what it means. I wish I did. I promise I'll find out though," he says and looks at Bruce determinedly. "And I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Bruce furrows his brow.

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. You said you trust me because I tried my best not to lie and yet—"

"Seriously?" Bruce cuts him off and Tony is a little surprised. "Tony, I've been keeping from you the fact that I hated Santa." Tony feels a stab in his chest at those words. He knows Bruce doesn't now, but it still hurts. Knowing what happened to Bruce to cause that hurts and knowing Bruce was so young when he stopped believing hurts. "Santa brought me a wonderful gift, one I didn't even ask for really since I was three—"

"We have a system for kids that don't send letters or can't," Tony explains with a sigh. "Now I wish we didn't."

Bruce understands his meaning and his face twitches with emotion before he bridges the gap between them and places a hand on Tony's cheek. Tony searches his eyes and then leans in to capture Bruce's lips. It's a soft, slow, saccharine even, sort of kiss and Bruce breaks it with a sigh.

"Tony, it wasn't your fault. You don't have to feel responsible," Bruce whispers. "It wasn't even your dad's fault. It was my dad's fault. He ruined everything in my life for a long, long time. There are still days I can't look in the mirror because I'm afraid I'll see glimpses of him in me and… I never want to be like him… again." He sighs again and Tony kisses away whatever self-loathing thought is trying to take hold with a more demanding kiss. "I'm glad I stopped believing," Bruce says after a long kiss. Before Tony can ask why, he explains, "It was better than resenting Santa for years." He looks at Tony seriously. "Who knows how I would have responded to all of this if that was the case. I'm glad he didn't steal this from me too."

"I've seen your Christmas spirit," Tony says in answer to that, pressing his forehead against Bruce's painted one, noting the ironic color again. "I don't think he could have. It's like Charles said. You have a very strong mind." And colorful. The thought echoes in his mind for a fleeting moment right before Bruce captures his lips again in a kiss that practically pleads for all of this to be real and true and for Tony to really believe he's strong because he needs it. Tony pulls him closer and kisses him in an effort to reassure him it is and he does.

"Hey, you guys done kissin' yet?" They're interrupted by Peter and they both look down in simultaneous surprise. "I asked if you guys could help me with my booth instead of one of the others and the answer was yes. I mean, if you want."

Bruce's eyes widen for some reason unknown. Then he smiles. "We'd like that, Peter."

"Cool! I can finish painting your faces," Peter says and then hurries back to the booth.

Tony chuckles. "He's quite the ball of energy, isn't he?"

"Yeah, I'm… I'm a little surprised though," Bruce says quietly. "He's opened up a lot since coming to the home, but he's still pretty independent and can get moody for…" He pauses. "Well, obvious reasons. He never wants anyone hanging around hence why he didn't have anyone at the booth with him." Bruce then gives him a wry smile. "Must be that Santa privilege."

"Maybe so," Tony says with a smile and shrug. Tony takes a few steps back towards the booth, but Bruce reaches out and stops him with a hand on his arm. He looks at him in askance.

"You said others were glowing?" Bruce glances past him. "And you think it's Christmas spirit?"

Tony turns his head to see where Bruce's gaze is and realizes it's on Peter. Tony smiles and looks back at Bruce. "He still has his," he tells him and sees the relief that immediately floods Bruce's eyes. Tony's heart swells with warmth at the sight, then again that's been the case most of the night seeing Bruce interacting with the kids. "Yeah, I'd say he's probably a resilient little kid too," Tony decides.

As they rejoin Peter and the little boy launches into more chatter that even Tony can barely keep up with, and Bruce seems to be able to only listen to with a pleasant smile on his face for the most part, Tony decides this job may actually be a privilege he's not so averse to after all. Peter might not believe in Santa, but that doesn't mean he doesn't believe and Tony wants nothing more than to do whatever it takes to keep that spirit alive.  

Then without any warning it occurs to him that he can't wait to be Santa and with a wide smile he realizes he hasn't even put on the suit yet.  

Chapter Text

The next month and a half flies by in a practical blur of toys, letters, holiday movies, more game nights, charities and television appearances as CEO of Stark Industries, more volunteering with Bruce, late nights working on the sleigh sometimes with Bruce there to help him, late nights with Bruce spent in pleasure, meals with Bruce, lazy evenings and the rare off weekend with Bruce, laughter shared with Bruce, and even a few arguments with Bruce. Tony's life is made up of Christmas and Bruce and it turns out he loves it.  

It turns out he loves Bruce. It may be a cliché, but the man is the best thing he never even knew he was missing in his life.  

He can't just pick any one thing about him that he loves best either; it's really all in with him. There's the way they can talk about science, sure. There's the way Bruce laughs at his jokes and makes him laugh in turn, of course. There's the way he feels a deep connection he's never had before when their bodies are pressed close together, absolutely.  

Tony furrows his brow and glances at the door to see Pepper standing there with a smirk on her face. He nods at her absently.  

But there's also the way Bruce is passionate and strong. Or the way Bruce will surprise him when he least expects it, like that time Tony came home late from a miniature crisis at SHIELD to find Bruce asleep on his couch with one of the Academy textbooks on the history of the Santa's folded on his chest. Or maybe the way Bruce can be doing anything at all, wearing anything at all, and never fail to look like a piece of art that Tony can't keep from studying.

"Tony, are you listening?" Pepper interrupts his thoughts yet again. This time he really does focus on her completely and she shakes her head with mirth. "It's obvious you weren't thinking about the staff meeting you have." She walks over to his desk and sets down the notes she's typed up for said meeting. She looks down at the few letters he's paper-clipped together rather than putting in his read pile. "More research?"  

He nods. "Yeah, I think I recall these four being recommended for the naughty list," he says, "but now I'm thinking that would be a grave oversight." That's another thing that came out of nowhere, like that first time when he'd had the feeling Bruce was right for the job. He just has a sort of intuition about things at random and it's gotten stronger over the past couple of months.  

"Alright," she says. "I'll pull their files and pass them along to SHIELD."  

"Thanks," he says and then looks down at the meeting notes. When she doesn't leave, he looks up at her. "What?" 

She smiles, a knowing gleam in her eyes. "Nothing, it's just… Well, you."  

He glances around. "Uh… me? Wait, if you're going to suddenly declare your love for me…" He holds up his hands in a teasing keep away gesture. "I'm seeing someone."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, still smiling. Then she focuses on him again. "Now why would I do that when it's clear you're absolutely in love with Bruce?" 

"Well, you know… last ditch effort," he offers with a snort. Then he furrows his brow. "That obvious, huh?" He's really not surprised if it is, and he wants to tell Bruce how much he feels for him, but he also doesn't want to scare him off by rushing things.  

"Tony, look at your meeting notes." The line between his eyes deepens as he looks down at them. "Really look. It doesn't take a genius to realize that this has been a phenomenal Christmas season and you are already making for a spectacular Santa in spite of all the signs against it before." 

Tony looks at the record-breaking data, from levels of Christmas spirit to production numbers to overall employee satisfaction. The only hiccup has been incidents here and there that make no sense, but they can't find anything to suggest it's more than just the occasional accident or glitch that's bound to happen and they've rallied back stronger each time. He looks back up at her in understanding.  

"And it had nothing to do with the suit."  

"Not a thing," she clarifies. 

"And you still think it's because I fell in love," he then pieces together what she's saying. 

"Well," she hitches a shoulder, "all signs point to my being at least a little right." 

He ducks his head, considering it, and then shakes it as he chortles. "So the moral of the story is to always listen to Pepper Potts?" He glances up at her. 

"Hmm," she taps the side of her cheek with one finger, "I think I like the sound of that. Also, I wouldn't object to a raise." 

"And if I say no, you'll rub this in my face until I break down and give you one?" Tony guesses. 

"Sounds about right," she says with another smirk. Then she turns and leaves the office with a, "You've got an hour until the meeting." 

Tony chuckles after her, but he can't deny she might have a point. Maybe love is the trigger after all, or at least was in his case. That thought stays with him as he prepares for the meeting. And it's the meeting. There are only two weeks until Christmas and it's up to him to encourage everyone, thank them for their hard work as they push into the final stretch and then give them the incentive with the office holiday party that will follow right after. The thought is reinforced when there's a knock on his door and Bruce ducks his head in. 

"You can enter," Tony says in a playfully ominous voice. Bruce chuckles as he comes into the office looking rather irresistible even in a hideous holiday sweater. "Were you looking to pay a visit to Santa?" He pushes his large chair back just a little and gives Bruce an inviting leer. "After all, there are only two weeks until Christmas. Better get that wish list to him soon." 

Bruce shakes his head in a fond manner. He comes around the desk but instead of sitting he leans against the desk in the space between it and Tony. "Hmm, maybe a boyfriend. I hear those are popular to ask for," Bruce says in a considering tone, crossing his arms as he does. "That or a hula-hoop. Speaking of two weeks until Christmas, I hear Santa is giving a speech. That should be interesting." 

Tony snorts. "Uh, yeah. It should be. I hear he's as notorious as Tony Stark when Stark Industries lets him go anywhere near the press," he returns Bruce's banter and Bruce snorts too.  

Then Bruce studies him for a quiet moment. "You okay? You seem nervous." 

"Blasphemy." He flaps a hand. "Tony Stark doesn't get nervous." 

"Right. Of course." Bruce nods. Then he asks, "And what about just Tony? Does Tony get nervous?" 

Tony smiles, loving the way Bruce has a way of pushing past his bravado. The way they both see through the other's defenses feels like a special gift, in of itself, meant for them. "Tony… Yep. Tony's a little bit nervous. But just a little bit."  

"Thought he might be," Bruce replies as he moves to Tony's lap. "But I have it on good authority he's going to do great." Bruce then swallows his nervousness with a sweet kiss. 

❄ 

"Last year when my father announced his retirement I know it was met with a lot of sadness and probably a lot of confusion and uncertainty as well," Tony begins his speech. "Howard Stark was a wonderful Santa. He modernized this operation so that it is what it is today. And between your hard work and the work that SHIELD does, this has turned into a well-oiled machine to be proud of. 

"I know there's probably been a lot of doubt about whether or not I would be able to measure up to Howard." He keeps his eyes on Bruce where he sits in the front row for a moment, not wanting to meet the eyes of anyone else. Then he takes a breath and scans his eyes across the room. "Well, you were all right to wonder because, truthfully, I’m not my father and never will be. I tried to learn his way of doing this job and while a lot of it makes sense and won’t change, some things will. Some things, as you're aware, already have." He gauges their reactions – made up of blank stares and nods and a few whispers between colleagues. "As your new Santa I don’t want a machine. I'm sure those who really know me are aware of the irony in that statement." That garners a few low chuckles. "I love machines. I love technology. I love what we’ve managed to create here.  

And, you know, maybe when I first started I would have been in favor of us relying even more heavily on that. Anything to make my job easier,” he ribs himself and there are a few more snorts and snickers. He then pauses again, this time for a longer moment. "And I mean that if I’m being honest. When I started I was cynical and reluctant and I know that probably made a lot of you wonder where this thing was headed. So now you’re probably wondering how the Santa voted most likely to screw everything up has, well, stopped being such a Scrooge." 

"I think we already know, Santa!" Darcy calls out which earns some cheers and whistles. Bruce looks like he might like to sink into his chair until he disappears as he’s elbowed and clapped on the back. 

Tony laughs a little at his expense before saying, "Okay, okay. Stop embarrassing Santa’s boyfriend. His amazing boyfriend who, yes, has had an indescribable effect on me and my perspective." He smiles and winks at Bruce before becoming serious again. "But the credit doesn’t go to him alone." Everyone calms down again to listen and Bruce has a content smile on his face. "Production numbers are up. So is Christmas spirit. I don't think we would be where we're at without all of you. Yes, even you, Darcy," he says. She stands up and takes a bow before Jane yanks her back down into her seat. "Every single one of you has your own unique Christmas spirit to bring to the table. And it's your continued commitment to this crazy tradition that really keeps it alive. It always has been. I don't think it's a coincidence even the outside world realizes Santa could never do what he does without a team. Look, I don't know if you all stay because you enjoy it or because the NDA is a bi—"  

"Tony," Bruce interrupts and he looks down at him with wide eyes. Bruce shakes his head. "Don't ruin it." Tony as well as the others chuckle. 

"Right. Good call. My amazing boyfriend, everyone," Tony reiterates. Then after a slight pause he continues. "I guess the point is, thank you. Your work and your commitment is invaluable. And I know you've probably heard that countless times, but I mean it. I don't know that I mean it more than my father did, but I sincerely mean it. And I want you to feel like your work here is invaluable from now on should it be anyone has lost sight of that fact. As I said before, I don't want a machine. I want everyone here to be happy because if you're not happy then I'm not doing my job. If you're not happy, how can we make the world happy? 

"So that's the future I see for us. A stronger, happier team made up of people just as important in the grand scheme of things as those out there we're working together to bring Christmas cheer to. I look forward to building that future alongside you, starting now," he says, holding up a hand. It turns into a peace sign as he playfully adds, "Now let's break out the eggnog and party until we drop. We'll have plenty of time to work til we drop later." 

❄ 

"So, any plans for your days off?" Tony asks Steve and Bucky, making the rounds of mingling at the party, and finding them chatting just the two of them near the punch bowl.  

"I still think you're crazy to insist we take days off before Christmas," Steve says in non-answer, referring to the fact that Tony has insisted his main tactical team – Steve, Natasha and Clint – take a week of the two remaining off as a pre-Christmas vacation. Barnes is, of course, taking off as well.  

Tony has also been quite flexible with the hours and requests for time off so long as there's enough coverage to get the job done, which he's sure there will be. It's been greatly taken advantage of and he's gotten the impression that many had been wishing it could be this accommodating for a while now, much as Tony had suspected it might be. Even Charles is checking out until after New Year's, barring the unlikely need for emergency memory extraction, as well as Jane who's been talking nonstop about visiting her mother in London – or, well, Darcy's been talking nonstop about it since she's tagging along.  

"We're headed upstate," Bucky answers and Tony catches an interesting gleam in his eyes.  

"Well, just make sure you get back before Bruce's surprise party next weekend," Tony warns, glancing around to make sure he's not within earshot. 

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Steve asks, incredulity in his tone and expression. "I mean, I can't say Bruce strikes me as the surprise party kind, Tony."  

"He really doesn't," Bucky agrees. 

"Which is why he'll probably get mad at me, still enjoy it, get mad at me some more and then I'll apologize for ruining his birthday and he'll apologize for overreacting and—"  

"Okay, you can stop there," Steve says, holding up one hand.  

"But it was just getting good," Bucky quips and Steve nudges him.  

"Well, I can't say I approve of your flippancy, but we'll be back to celebrate Bruce's birthday, surprise party or no," Steve assures him.  

"And what about the charity event in the park on Friday?" Tony asks next.  

"That one's a no-go." Steve shakes his head. "Our train back isn't until Sunday morning, sorry." 

"Hey, no, it's fine," Tony reassures him. "We'll have plenty of people out there to help. Just thought I'd ask. Sunday morning though?" He whistles. "You two really do have plans, don't you?" He studies them.

"Let's go, Buck," Steve says to the other man, scowling playfully at Tony as he does. "He's got that look like he's going to play twenty questions until we spill the beans."  

"Try to stay out of trouble, Stark," Barnes says as they start to walk away. "You won't have me around to protect your dumb ass for a whole week." 

"I won't have your dumb ass around for a whole week to make things worse when I do get in trouble, you mean," Tony snarks back. 

Bucky opens his mouth to retort, but Steve pushes him along with an, "Okay, enough of that. I want to dance." 

"You mean you want to step on my feet," Tony hears Bucky protest right before they're out of earshot.  

Tony chuckles and then looks around for Bruce. He'd lost him somewhere three or four crowds back. He wouldn't mind stealing him away for a little dancing of their own. He wanders through the crowd and then spots Bruce outside on one of the patios, the only one brave enough to venture out there. Well, Tony is brave enough to venture out there too if only to bring him back in where it's warm.  

That thought is forgotten as the music drifts from inside and sets the perfect ambiance along with the Christmas lights and the gentle flurries. Bruce looks like he's already warm and Tony reaches out to capture some of it for himself. Bruce startles slightly before realizing who has his arm and that's when Tony pulls him around and into his arms.  

"I'm in a slump," Tony says as they start to sway. Bruce smiles at the sentiment, but doesn't otherwise say anything.  

They dance as close as they possibly can, with no rhythm to the actual Christmas music playing inside. The lights are twinkling, Jack Frost is nipping at their noses, and it feels like heaven. Tony doesn't ever want it to end. 

"You're glowing, Tony," Bruce whispers from where they're now pressed cheek to cheek.  

Tony smiles, opens his eyes and realizes Bruce is too, before closing them again. "I can't imagine why," he replies with a content sigh. "I can't imagine why." 

❄ 

Tony can't stop from joining in when a snowball fight breaks out among many of the kids at the charity event. For a long while it's just him, but then he throws one at Bruce at the same time Peter does and that gets him to join in as well. Then Tony and Bruce gang-up on Clint and Natasha. Clint seeks retaliation immediately while Natasha just rolls her eyes and resists. Then all three of them hit her at once and realize that might have been a mistake.  

"That was fun," Peter says, wheezing a little as he sits in the snow following the skirmish. 

"Deep breaths," Bruce tells him.  

"How about we all go warm up at the hot chocolate stand," Tony suggests to them all.  

That's met with cheers from all of the kids and they rush off at once, each one glowing spectacularly as they do. Tony smiles after the rainbow as it disappears from his immediate line of vision.

"You're so good with them," Bruce says, linking his gloved hand with Tony's as they follow behind at a more leisurely pace. 

"I guess I'd be in the wrong profession if I wasn't," Tony replies. 

"Hmm, I don't know." Bruce squeezes his hand. "I don’t think it's only the Santa thing." There's a smile in his voice.  

"Yes, well," Tony smiles along with him and squeezes his hand back just as they reach the stand, "you're good with them too." 

They spend about an hour drinking hot chocolate and leisurely moving around the charity event full of games and contests. They also check on the donations from attendees which includes toys and winter clothes to be given to several children's homes and shelters throughout the city.  

"Hey," Peter shouts as he and several other kids run up to them while checking the donations, "we're going to build snowmen." 

"And women!" A girl shouts. 

"To see who can build the best," Peter cuts right back over her and the others. "Will you be judges for us?" 

Bruce smiles and says in a teasing manner, "Well, I happen to know Mr. Stark here is very good at judging."  

"Sweet!" Peter exclaims and then the kids hurry over to a field where some other kids are already building snowmen – and women – of their own. The weather has been prime for it. It's snowed every single day for nearly a week.  

"Ahaha," Tony says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I don't judge. I—" Bruce lifts one eyebrow. "Alright, fair enough." Bruce laughs, his breath visible in the cold air. Tony leans in and kisses him. "Watch with the insults though or you'll end up on my naughty list," he teases back. 

Bruce hums. "Thought I already was," he banters and Tony kisses him again.  

The two of them then walk over to a tree near the field to watch. As they stand there, Tony's fingers run along the package in his coat pocket. It's Bruce's birthday present that he'd forgotten to take out after buying it. His birthday isn't for a couple of days, but something about the moment feels peaceful and right and Tony has an urge to give it to him now. After a few more minutes of wrestling, as usual, Tony can't fight his inclination and turns a little to face Bruce better.  

"I was going to wait until your birthday, but..." Tony pulls out the small, rectangular package from his pocket. Bruce's eyes widen. "But I just can't wait." 

"Tony..." Bruce starts to protest. 

"Hey, you knew I was going to get you something," Tony interjects. 

Bruce looks at him and then the package before slowly taking it. "Well, you didn't have to just the same," Bruce insists stubbornly even as he opens it. His eyes grow even wider when he sees the fine leather box. He glances at Tony in a way that suggests he really shouldn't have gotten him anything fancy, but Tony is determined to help Bruce learn that he deserves these sorts of things. "Oh," Bruce whispers as he opens the box and finds a custom watch. "It's... It's... Wow." 

"Happy birthday, Bruce," Tony says as Bruce carefully pulls out the watch to inspect it. Tony takes the case for him to hold.  

Bruce gasps when he turns the watch over and quickly his eyes start to glisten a little. Bruce wraps his arms around Tony's neck and pulls him into a kiss. "I love it," he says. "Thank you." 

Tony smiles against his lips and then captures them again. When they pull apart, Bruce takes off his old watch and replaces it with the new. He puts the old one in the case and Tony pockets it for him for the time being.  

"I think I need some water or something after that," Bruce says, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "Want anything?" 

"I'm fine, thanks," Tony says. He watches him go with a content smile and then turns his head back toward the field.  

He stands lost in his thoughts for a few moments before an unsettling feeling of eyes watching him comes over him. He glances around the park and then his heart freezes when he sees Loki watching him with a sinister look. He's dressed to the nines in some strange Asgardian garb, complete with horned helmet, and he holds some kind of staff. Loki looks at him like he's just challenging him to make some kind of move.  

Tony does move. Immediately he moves toward him, his driving thought being to keep Loki as far away from the children and other attendees as possible since whatever this is definitely seems like more than just mischief.  

"What are you doing here, reindeer games?" Tony wastes no time when he reaches him. "And I swear to Thor if you say 'business'—" Loki suddenly thrusts the scepter forward and it lands surprisingly gently against his chest. Tony looks at him like he's crazy, which he's pretty sure he is, and falters back with a, "What the hell?" 

Loki sighs dramatically, as if put-upon. "So it's true it doesn't work on Santa," he says.  

"What doesn't?" Tony glances at the scepter. "You have exactly five seconds to explain yourself." 

Loki gives him a sharp glance and then parades away a few steps. "Here I was expecting you to be my saving grace," he says and his voice is on edge in a way that implies he's barely restraining himself. "The worst Santa in history. The perfect opportunity to destroy Christmas spirit and conquer this meager world once and for all." 

"Conquer?" Tony reaches into his pocket and presses the SHIELD alert button on his phone right before Loki spins back around to look at him.  

They hold a fierce gaze for a moment before Loki starts walking toward him. "But you had to go and see colors," he clips each word, disgust dripping throughout. He circles him and Tony keeps on guard lest that scepter be used as a spear instead. "You had to go and be the first Santa in over three hundred years with the ability to ruin all of my schemes." 

"Tony?" Bruce's voice breaks through their confrontation.  

Tony's eyes widen while Loki's eyes light up like a madman's and a sickeningly cruel smile spreads across his face. Dread falls over Tony and he wastes no time in moving to Bruce's side, prepared to do whatever he has to.  

"I have come too far and done too much to let someone as worthless and incompetent as you stop me all because of an unaccounted for pawn on the board." Tony furrows his brow and swallows hard. 

"Tony?" Bruce echoes, more uncertain than before.  

"Loki, stop!" Clint and Natasha come running towards them, but their order goes ignored. 

"This may not work on you, Stark, but it will work on him," he says and lunges forward so quickly that neither Tony nor Bruce can react before the tip of it is against Bruce's chest.  

Tony tries to pull him away, heart going cold at the distant, blue glaze that moves across Bruce's eyes as he does, but then Bruce goes limp in his arms and Tony instead has to help him down to the ground before he falls in an unconscious heap. Loki then turns quickly and deflects shots fired at him by Clint and Natasha with the scepter while Tony looks at Bruce in a panic.

"What did you do to him?" Tony mumbles. "What did you do to him!?" He shouts louder, looking up at the villain with uncontrolled ire. 

Loki turns around and Tony lunges toward him, but the Frost Giant phases out. Tony falters forward and then looks around. Clint and Natasha falter forward mid-attack and follow suit. Tony finally sees him already disappearing into the crowd of the park. 

"We've got him," Clint says.  

He and Natasha hurry after him while Tony wars with his urge to follow.  A groan from the ground silences that urge and immediately he ducks down beside Bruce again. 

"Tony, what's going on?" Pepper asks, running over with Happy on her tail. "I got the distress signal and I  just saw Clint and—" She gasps upon seeing Bruce.  

Bruce groans again and opens his eyes in a bleary way. "What? What happened?" He blinks his eyes some more and then they open wide looking straight up at the sky. "Where am I?"  

Tony and Pepper share a glance. "Happy, get Phil on the phone," Pepper tells him. "We need a SHIELD emergency team asap." 

Bruce snaps his eyes in her direction. "Who are you?" 

"Just take it easy," Tony says as calmly as he can manage and goes to try and help Bruce sit up, but Bruce startles away from him. Tony throws up his hands in a non-threatening gesture. 

Bruce furrows his brow. "Tony—" 

"Yes," Tony breathes out in relief, but it's short-lived. 

"–Stark?" Bruce blinks, still clearly confused. "You're Tony Stark." 

Tony's heart sinks.

Chapter Text

Tony paces around in the waiting room of the SHIELD hospital. It's been hours since the incident in the park. Coulson had come along to intervene, convincing Bruce to go with him and the medical team and convincing Tony not to cause a scene. So Tony had stayed and finished out the charity event. That had been hard, especially with no updates to Bruce's condition and the kids asking where Bruce had gotten to. And there still isn't any update and Tony hasn't been allowed to see him.

Tony turns suddenly when he hears his name, only to be slightly disappointed when he realizes it's just Steve and Bucky. "We got here as quickly as we could." Steve looks at him with concern and places a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? Is he?"

Tony wrenches his eyes shut and shakes his head. "I don't know. He's… he's fine physically," he answers. "But he was really confused. He didn't remember me."

"So amnesia?" Steve asks.

Tony nods and shrugs and shakes his head all at once because honestly he doesn't know. He opens his eyes and catches sight of Steve's hand as he pulls it away. He furrows his brow as he looks at it. He glances at his cousin and then he glances at Barnes' hand. Then he glances back at Steve with wide eyes. Steve shrugs sheepishly.

"Wait, up state as in Niagara Falls, up state?" Tony asks incredulously. "You eloped?"

"We did," Steve confirms.

Tony looks back and forth between the two men as they share a brief, adoring look between them. It's honestly something Tony never would have seen coming. He swallows his personal emotions for a moment to pull Steve into an embrace. The man, after all, had cut his honeymoon short to come back and support him.

"Congratulations," he says, patting him on the back as he pulls away.

"Thanks, Tony," Steve says.

Then Tony reaches out a hand toward Bucky. Bucky reaches out his own, but Tony pulls back just a fraction as he says, "I swear you better take damn good care of him or else." He then takes Bucky's hand into his own for a firm shake. "But something tells me you will."

"You can bet on it," Bucky says as he lets go and then looks at Steve. Steve has a crooked grin on his face and again the two share a look that absolutely gives away that they're in the honeymoon stage and can't help themselves even though circumstances have forced them to get back to work.

That's when it hits Tony like a strike of Thor's lightning and he reels backwards. He reaches for something to steady him and finds a chair arm. He sinks down into the seat, his eyes darting here and there in tandem with his shaking head.

"Tony?" Steve's voice sounds far away and Tony glances up at him to see his studious concern.

Tony feels a sharp pang in his chest and he rubs at it as the treachery of what Loki has done settles over him like a heavy weight. "I can't see the colors anymore."

"The colors?" Bucky queries.

"You should have been glowing," Tony mumbles more to himself than for them to hear.

He knows almost for certain that the way the two men are acting there should have at least been something. Maybe because of the nearing holiday, he's not sure, Tony sees people glowing multiple times a day. He hasn't seen anything since the incident. He doesn't know if it's because he's too stressed to see anything or something else, he only knows somehow for certain that something's wrong.

"SHIELD is tracking Loki's whereabouts," Natasha says by way of announcing her presence and Tony looks up to see her and Clint coming towards them. "They get a hit, we'll be there."

"And we managed to get in contact with Dr. Foster," Clint says. He glances away as if seeing something and Tony turns his head to follow his line of gaze, shooting up to his feet when he sees that it's Fury and Coulson coming their way. "She said she'll try to reach Thor," Clint finishes, but Tony doesn't care at the moment.

"How is he?" They don't answer quickly enough. "I want answers and I want them now!" Tony demands. "And I want to see him."

"Calm down, Tony," Natasha says and he's surprised by her hand around his arm in a gesture of comfort and grounding.

"I know this isn't what you want to hear, but you can't see him just yet," Nick says. Before Tony can protest, he raises his hands. "Now, just, wait a damn second and listen to me." He sighs. "Look, Dr. Banner has just experienced a great shock. And he's displaying symptoms of PTSD because of it. I highly suggest you not make it worse on him. The doctor doesn't want him seeing anyone, especially not someone as invested in making him remember as you would be, Stark."

The words hit him like a hard blow. "Making him remember? You mean he still doesn't?"

Fury glances at Phil. "Tony… the reason why this is such a shock to him is because, well, the last thing Dr. Banner can remember is preparing for his interview with Stark Industries."

Tony's eyes widen and he feels like he might be sick to his stomach. He feels his breath coming in short pants and before he knows what's happened, he's sitting again and Natasha's hand is tight around his arm. He looks up at her and sees her lips moving, but he can't hear her. He furrows his brow and thinks he understands what she's trying to tell him regardless. He closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths in and out. His face screws up with emotion as all he can see in his mind's eye is Bruce, his smile and soulful eyes the way they'd looked only earlier that day.

"Bruce," he chokes out and gasps as the world starts to come into focus again and he hears Natasha telling him to breathe, to listen to her voice. He nods and follows her instructions until it's passed.

"Mr. Stark," a nurse approaches with a cup of water and something in her other hand, "the doctor believes it would be beneficial for you to take these." She has a sympathetic expression on her face. "For your own shock," she explains as she still holds them.

"If you could just set them down on that other chair," Steve instructs politely, "that'd be swell. Thank you." She does and then steps back.

Tony sighs and takes the water and pills into hand. Both are bitter to swallow, but he does. He closes his eyes, the plastic cup halfway to his lips again, and the bitterness turns to anger. He snaps open his eyes and throws the cup across the hall where it hits the opposite wall.

"Mr. Stark, please," the nurse admonishes and rushes no doubt to speak to the doctor about his reaction.

"Tony," Fury starts to warn.

"No! No, don't Tony me, damn it!" Tony shoots up to his feet. "All of it is gone! Don't you get it!? It can't be a coincidence. Loki deliberately erased all of his memories of ever knowing me!"

Fury nods grimly. "We know, Stark. We do get that."

"Dr. Banner doesn't know this of course, but our special tests indicate this has a lot of the same marks as a telepathic removal." Tony's face goes lax. "There have been other cases, not many mind you, of memory removal by means other than telepathy that mimics it. Loki is a magician so it's not impossible—" Tony is halfway down the hallway when Coulson realizes it. "Stark, where are you going!?"

"Stark!" Fury calls after him.

"I'm going to find somebody who can fix this," Tony calls back through a tense-set jaw.

❄

"I've tried calling him," Tony growls into his cell phone as he wanders aimlessly around the mall where he's tracked Charles' location to, courtesy of SHIELD. "He never picks it up!"

"Of course he doesn't," Erik retorts with a chuckle. "He's a telepath, Stark. Try as I may he insists he doesn't need to use his phone for that sort of thing so he's always forgetting it at home. I meant have you tried calling—" Erik goes silent before then giving a sigh.

"Are you talking to him right now?" Tony is both hopeful and impatient.

Erik sighs again. "Lorna, stop squirming." Tony furrows his brow. "Yes, yes, okay, dear," Erik grumbles. "He's in the food court," Erik then says before hanging up.

Tony is willing to overlook the gruff manners since he'd gotten the answer he needs. He rushes toward the food court only to feel a spike of frustration at the crowd he's met with.

//Middle. Your left. I'm waving.//

Tony spots the telepath at a table and hurries over. "Charles, thank goodness I found you," he says, wasting no time. "Look, I know you're on vacation for the rest of the year, but—"

Charles holds up a finger and turns around quickly in his chair. Tony scrunches his face and follows the man's gaze to see a young boy and girl pulling a toy back and forth as they stand in a long food line. He moves that finger to his temple and the older redhead standing right in front of them turns to look at him and then down to the boy and girl. She clearly chastises them and then takes the toy from them before pointing at Charles. The kids come over with slumped shoulders. 

Charles chuckles. "Sorry, darlings," he says as they both plop down into empty chairs. "But you weren't behaving like you promised."

"He started it," the girl says petulantly. 

"Did not!" 

"Ah, now, none of that. I need to speak with Mr. Stark." Charles looks back at him then. The kids look up at him as well and when Tony smiles at them their eyes widen and they glance at each other before sitting as straight as possible. Charles chuckles. "Well, then. Maybe we should invite you to move in with us. We have plenty of empty rooms, you know." 

"There won't be if you two still plan on adopting every kid between here and Westchester," Tony says with a shake of his head, still smiling in spite of everything. 

"Now what can I do for you, Tony? Erik said you seemed very distressed." Charles' expression becomes concerned. "And I too felt it when I reached out for your mind."

"I need your help. Loki erased Bruce's memories of pretty much the entire past year."

"May I?" Charles' wiggles his fingers and Tony nods. "Oh." He wrenches his face, no doubt feeling Tony's distress for himself even more, and Tony wrenches his own as he sees glimpses of the worst day of his life. "Oh, my friend, I'm so very sorry." Charles looks at him, moving his hand to his lips. "I see." And Tony knows that Charles has seen more than that; he's seen the reason why it hurts him the way it does.

"I need to know if there's a way to undo it? It's a shock for him right now, but if I just tell him the secret again—"

"No, that won't be any good," Charles interjects and Tony deflates a little. "If you do that he'll merely think he's finding out for the first time. He won't remember anything from when he knew before." Charles chews on his lips, making them redder than they already naturally are. The man could dye his hair black and play Snow White, quite honestly. Tony shakes his head of his ever-wandering thoughts since now isn't the time. "He'll need to re-access those memories on his own, I'm afraid."

"You can't just give them back to him?" Tony asks desperately as his stomach churns.

"I could try," Charles says tentatively. "I could probably find a few pieces. Something to at least get the process started, but magical memory erasure is different from what I do, Tony. At least from the little I've studied on it. I put blocks around specific memories, sometimes insert new ones when need be. It's not permanent and in some cases a person's mind is strong enough to remove the block if there's a strong enough trigger point. Like a person with amnesia who is suddenly able to access that part of their mind again. There have been rare occasions when someone has retired or resigned only to remember later. Other times they get a strange sense of déjà vu, but the memories never actualize. It's usually because the spirit of," he pauses and looks at his kids hesitantly since they're not in on the secret yet, still believing in Santa on their own. "Because the spirit of Christmas is stronger than the block," he finishes just the same. "But a telepath’s way is more thorough and with any luck Loki merely scrambled his memories which seems to be the quickest method for wiping a person's mind with magic. In that case they're already still there and they too like amnesia may be accessed without aid, but otherwise I'd have to piece them back together and that takes a little time to be done right and safely."

"What are you saying?" Tony begs him to get to the point because at this point it's just all too much for him to try and process. 

Charles sighs in an apologetic tone. "I'm saying the fastest way will be if he regains them himself. You may be able to trigger them somehow without my help," he explains. He then looks rueful. "But I can't make any guarantees, Tony. And… I'm not certain I would even recommend it. Not if he's in shock as you say. But, I promise you, if he doesn't regain them on his own, once the shock has worn off I will do all that I can."

What's left of the hope he'd had in a fix vanishes and Tony hangs his head. It's not the answer he wanted to hear and he fears that it's all for nothing. He fears that not even Charles will be able to bring Bruce back to him, at least not like it had been before maybe. Suddenly Charles' kids are out of their seats and hugging him. Tony can't help but hug them back and let their innocence and earnestness be a small balm for his disheartened state.

Don't lose faith, Santa. Tony looks over the kids' head to meet Charles' gaze. If you do Loki will have won.

❄

Tony hasn't left his sleigh workshop for hours. Maybe days. He can't remember the last time he's eaten. It's just been a long blur of working on the sleigh, asking JARVIS if there's been any update, asking JARVIS to have someone send more flowers care of the company to Bruce's apartment along with a dessert from the cafeteria, and ignoring alerts from JARVIS that he needs to come down to production with a pointed, "Steve can handle it."

He's certain he might go on just like that until something changes. Or at least he would have if not for the sudden appearance of Coulson stepping off of his private elevator, a large book tucked under his arm. He blinks at him, wondering if it's his imagination, and then looks around.

"Uh, security breach. JARVIS?"

"You might as well know this now, Stark," Coulson clips in an impatient tone, "we have security overrides for the entire tower should we feel the security of Santa has been compromised."

"Of course you do," Tony grumbles. "But as you can see I'm perfectly fine. So leave." Phil just stands there. Tony sighs and sinks down onto a stool. "What do you want me to do, huh? What? I can't check the damn list because it's just a bunch of names and data that makes no sense to me anymore."

"We've had three lines go down in toy production, Mr. Stark," Phil says. "And while Steve can handle it by getting another engineer, you still know machines and could have things up and running quicker. Between that and the list and the unread letters, we are falling behind. And on top of all that we're looking at a potential blizzard on Christmas Eve. So you need to snap out of it, Stark. We understand you're grieving right now, we do, but this is exactly what Loki wants."

"Then you know what, maybe... maybe he can have it," Tony bites out in frustration and drops his head into his hands.

Phil sighs. "I told you that you were ready to know," he says in a gentler, solemn tone than before. Tony looks up to see him with the large book in hand. "I know things got away from us."

"Busy season," Tony mutters.

"But I should have made time. I'm sorry."

"This doesn't matter anymore, Phil," Tony says with a shake of his head. "I can't see anyone's Christmas spirit and, and, I don't feel any kind of sense of knowing about things. I just... I feel..." He looks down, worrying his bottom lip a little. "I feel like I had everything and now I have nothing."

"I know," Phil says. "Which is why you need to read this."

He carries it over to the workstation and sets it down. Tony furrows his brow, but gets up and walks over as well. At first glance the book looks old. Very old. The cover is adorned with an ornate S.

"What is this?" Tony asks as he opens the cover. It's obviously something pertaining to Santa. A few pages in he reads the words: The Complete History of Santa Claus. He glances at Phil with a furrowed brow.

"It's not complete in the sense of containing the history of each Santa from the beginning, although there are other volumes that came after in an attempt to add to the story," Phil explains. "More accurately you could say it's the complete origin of Santa and the complete early history up until the time it was written." Tony begins flipping through the pages, speed reading, as Phil continues. "The secrets and history written in it has been passed down from Santa to Santa, usually ensured to a trustworthy employee by each Santa to pass along to the next when he, or she, completes his first Christmas."

"Dad gave it to you?" Tony glances at him.

Phil shakes his head. "He gave it to Director Fury. But Director Fury trusted me with it as well as a precaution should anything happen to him before he could give it to you." Tony can believe that. Fury is always planning ahead and for the worst. "After it became clear you might have the gift, Fury and I had a long discussion and he entrusted me to decide when to give it to you to read."

"Why all the ceremony?" Tony asks, looking back at the book. "I don't understand."

"Simply, it was decided to be kept as a record to ensure that the full might of the gift of being Santa was never forgotten, but also never known by those who might manipulate it." Tony glances at him again in confusion. "Centuries ago, Earth was the favorite target of hostile realms. Also the world was in the midst of what we now call the Dark Ages. Warfare marked civilization as people conquered and killed in the name of advancement. Seeking a way to protect the realm under his care, Thor, as you know, visited us and during that time began the tradition of what we now know as Christmas. He did so in the hope that the spirit of this holiday would foster goodwill among men that would grow and spread. He also believed that the spirit of the holiday, if it became strong enough, would protect the Earth. Because the spirit was one of peace, yes, but also one of resilience and brotherhood."

"Something that if enough people had, they would work together against a common enemy instead of warring with one another," Tony says in understanding as he pauses on a page that has a picture of an ornate tree. "So that's why it's important that the world has Christmas spirit." Tony looks at Phil, pointing and nodding as he considers it. "That's why Loki wants to destroy the tradition. To divide us beyond any hope. I mean, we're already divided enough as it is. If we lose what semblance of hope and goodwill we have left, if even just one time a year, then..."

"Then we may become vulnerable."

"Loki wants to conquer the Earth," Tony says, recalling Loki's mad speech. "He said as much, but I didn't understand."

"That's why it's very important that you don't stop fighting, Tony," Phil urges. "I know it's hard. I know he took away your gift, but—"

"My gift?" Tony looks back at the book quickly and then flips several pages back. He reads the page again. "It says Thor gave the first Santa several gifts in order to keep the tradition alive. Longevity," Tony reads aloud, "flying beasts, yes, right, magic to manipulate the cosmos as necessary on a single night of the year, which we now know of course means time and space, got it, and a magical glowing map..." Tony looks at Phil and raises an eyebrow. "So we've always had that? Huh."

"It's been modified over the years."

"Obviously," Tony says and then gets back to reading. "'Thor also gave Santa three distinct gifts of power: the ability to sense the hearts of others, the ability to hear the thoughts of others, and the ability to see the aura of any man, woman or child, including himself, if he or she possessed the spirit of the tradition. These gifts were inherited by the first born child—" Tony stops reading again and runs a hand through his hair. "Wait, so what happened? Santa is supposed to have telepathy too?"

"The same thing that happened to the reindeer," Phil answers with a hitch of a shoulder. "Which is why this book was written. Later in the book it explains how eventually the gifts began to fade. Some Santa's were born with only one gift or two. There were incidents of one child having one gift and another child having another. And eventually Santa heirs were more and more frequently born without any of the gifts at all, save for telepathy which was usually always possessed by someone in the family, even if distantly. We now understand that the power seems to have transmuted from magical gift into a genetic mutation."

"Charles," Tony says in understanding as he looks at the book. "So does that mean Charles rightfully should be Santa?"

"Now you're starting to understand, Stark," Coulson says. "The inconsistency of the gifts led to contention. That contention nearly ruined Christmas spirit among those in on the secret. Who should be Santa? What if telepathy goes away too? Those were fought over questions. There was a lot of confusion about how to move forward."

"I can imagine," Tony says with a sharp puff of breath. He closes the book for now and smooths his hand across the cover. "So they created an action plan and sealed away the secrets to prevent further contention in the future. Is that the gist of it?" Tony glances at Phil.

"Yes," he answers.

Tony attempts to process all of the information he's just been bombarded with. He knew there were secrets, but he never could have imagined all of this.

"So, so why didn't Thor just come back and fix everything? Give the powers back and start the cycle over again? Has anyone asked him?"

"He did once. We don't talk about it."

Tony's eyes widen. "You mean great-great-great-great grandfather?"

Phil nods. "It drove him insane and Thor has vowed never to attempt it again."

Tony turns and looks around the workshop. His eyes fall on the sleigh and he can't help but think of Bruce. His eyes wrench shut. "Then how come I have two of the gifts?"

There's a long stretch of silence.

"I think you'll find your answer on page 616," Phil states at last. "But I also think you already know. Similar to the trigger point theory regarding the suit, some have speculated that the gifts aren't really gone, they just lie dormant. Not unlike Charles' thesis on other genetic mutations. The only problem is, if true the theoretical environment conducive for triggering it is rare. So rare that it's only happened one other time as far as Santa history goes."

Tony opens his eyes wide and turns quickly to look at Phil. "Over three hundred years ago?"

Phil looks surprised. "Yes. How did you—"

"Loki knows. He mentioned it. He said I would be the first Santa in over three hundred years able to ruin his schemes."

Phil nods. "Well, I assumed he knew... All things considered. And if he's truly determined to leave us vulnerable for his conquest then he was right in believing you a threat to those schemes.The last Santa who had it was one of the best on record. While he was Santa Christmas spirit rose all across the world and remained strong for nearly two hundred years. You've seen the data for yourself. It had already begun."

Silence stretches between them again. Then, with a sigh, Tony hangs his head and says, "But now the gift is gone, Phil. What can I do?"

"It's not gone, Tony. But even if it were, you don't need it to do this job. You only need to keep Christmas spirit alive. Killing it is Loki's ultimate goal here because as long as the spirit is still alive, there's still a fighting chance for us. Attempting to crush your spirit was just the fastest means to an end," Phil's voice is clipped and strong again. "So did he, Santa? Did he crush your Christmas spirit? Or are you going to fight?"

Chapter Text

Tony trudges through his tasks as Santa with determination if not enthusiasm. He burns the midnight oil to make up for the hours lost and with every minute he hopes for some Christmas miracle where they either find Loki and make him pay or Bruce remembers – well, preferably both, but if Tony has to pick, he'll of course take the latter.

When Christmas Eve arrives, the only miracle is that Tony has managed to get everything back on task in time for the big night. All presents have been moved to the appropriate helicarriers for pick up throughout the night. The sleigh is prepped and already on the sleigh landing deck, filled with the first packages. SHIELD is doing all of its last minute preparation, especially in light of a very likely impending blizzard.

The only thing left to do is for Tony to wait. Well, wait and put on the suit. The suit that mocks Tony while he sits on his bed staring at it. He hasn't read page 616, as Coulson has told him to do and he's almost done a few times, but he knows now in his heart that putting on that suit won't do anything for him. It won't fix things, it won't change him. He'll put it on and he'll still miss Bruce and he'll still hate Loki and he'll still wonder if he can go on doing this job without the man he loves by his side.

"JARVIS," Tony says as he stares down at Bruce's old watch, "update me."

"The SHIELD doctor visited him this afternoon, sir and the only change is that Dr. Banner reported an urge to visit a café at the same time every night that he can't understand. The doctor was unable to supply any answer. The report went on to say—"

"Wait," Tony says. "Wait, wait, wait! Did you say a café?"

"Yes, sir. He has visited a café three nights in a row."

Tony refastens Bruce around his wrist, where it's been since he'd remembered he still had it, and glances at the time as he stands to his feet. He looks at the suit and then looks out the window.

"JARVIS, get me a cab and scramble any SHIELD tracers just long enough to give me a head start."

"Yes, sir."

Tony nearly gets caught in the lobby of Stark Tower, but when he says he just needs a breath of fresh air to calm his nerves he manages to get away. A short time later he finds himself at the café he and Bruce had ducked into that night months ago. Their unofficial first date as they jokingly referred to it between them. He glances at his watch again, it's about the time he and Bruce had gone there that night, and then takes a breath and enters.

He looks around and then sees Bruce sitting at the same table as that night. It causes his heart to skip a beat and he tries not to shout Bruce's name lest he startle him. Instead he goes to the register and orders a hot cocoa, keeping Bruce in his peripheral while also attempting to remain casual and unaware of his presence. Yes, Bruce, this time I am stalking you, he thinks bitterly.

When Tony turns to move down the counter he realizes that Bruce is watching him intensely. Then Bruce seems to realize it too because he blinks and ducks his head in a self-conscious manner. Tony feels his heart tug back and forth between hope and despair.

"Hey, glad to see you're out and about," Tony says in a conversational tone when he nears the table.

Bruce looks up at him in surprise and then suspicion. "Um, yeah," he says in a confused tone that Tony absolutely hates. He wonders if this is how lost he looked and sounded after the ordeal with Ross. He wants to make it better for him, not only for himself in getting him back. “The doctor said I should just rest, but it’s driving me crazy.” 

“I bet it would,” Tony says in empathy. He then grabs his drink when it’s finished. “But I guess if you’re going to be out on a night like this, this is a great place to duck into.” He raises his cup. “They make a great hot cocoa.”

Bruce blinks. "Mmhmm, yeah, they do. I, um... I never knew about this place before..."

"Maybe you discovered it after," Tony offers as calmly as he can.

"My... My doctor thinks that too. I guess it makes sense. It's close to Stark Tower. Maybe I stopped off on my way to or from work one day."

"You know you worked for Stark Industries?" Tony asks, getting his hopes up.

"Not because I remember," Bruce answers and Tony frowns. "But it makes sense. Why I was at the charity event or why you seemed to know me already. And why the company keeps sending me flowers and desserts."

"Right. Of course. Well, for what it's worth, you've been a wonderful employee and you still have a job with us when you're able to come back to work."

"Oh," Bruce seems surprised in a way that reminds Tony of when he'd first interviewed and seemed so unsure of his merit. "Thank you, Mr. Stark. Also, um, for all of the flowers." He says it while wringing his hands a little and Tony can't help but look down at them. His heart nearly stops when he sees Bruce is wearing the watch he got him and has started to fiddle with it.

Tony's vision tunnels and the room spins. He tries to keep it together long enough to hear Bruce out – he's saying something about too many flowers – and then leave without making a scene. Because he can't stay here. He can't be this close to Bruce. Now he knows why they didn't want him to see the physicist. He's either going to have an anxiety attack and make a scene or make a desperate confession of the secret and make a scene.

"Although the desserts are really good," Bruce says and it brings Tony back to the moment. "I don't mind those. I guess my sweet tooth was already well known to my coworkers, huh?"

"Hmm? Yes, yes it was," Tony says, forcing a smile. "You even made us cookies on occasion." Bruce stares at him for a long moment and then blinks and looks down into his drink. Tony holds back a sigh. "Well, I guess I'll let you get back to enjoying your—"

Bruce's head shoots up and he practically pleads, "Wait." Tony startles, holding his breath. Bruce turns sheepish. "I'm, I'm sorry. That was... I didn't..." He sighs. "It was just nice talking to you," he confesses and Tony's heart stutters. "But I understand if you—" Tony cuts that statement off by sitting down in the seat across from him.

Bruce looks startled and then his brow furrows in study. He maintains this gaze for a long moment before shaking his head and taking a drink of his cocoa. "I wish I could remember," he mumbles.

"I wish you could too, Bruce," Tony says with that sigh he'd held back previously. Bruce startles again. "Oh, right, sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you. I don't really address my employees formally." It's not a lie. "But I shouldn't have just—"

"No, it's... It's okay," Bruce interrupts. "It was just... It sounded right," he explains. "And it surprised me."

"Oh." Tony narrows his gaze down his nose toward the table. Then his lips twitch traitorously at the edges. "Oh, well, maybe that's a good thing," he offers as neutrally as possible then. "Maybe you should come by Stark Tower sometime. Maybe it'll jog your memory."

"I... I considered that," Bruce says. "But I'm not sure if I'm ready for that. And, you know, doctor's orders," he says and starts fiddling with his watch again. Tony closes his eyes, unable to look. When he opens his eyes again Bruce is staring at him. Tony doesn't say anything, just stares back. Suddenly Bruce coughs to clear his throat and ducks his head as if self-conscious again. "I'm sorry. I..." He takes a long drink and stands to his feet. "I'm being foolish. I should be at home. I feel... I..." He looks at Tony and searches his face. "It's too much," he mutters. He apologizes again and starts to walk away.

Tony quickly throws down a tip and chases after him, not bothering to grab his drink. He's assaulted by the cold wind and snow and sees Bruce bundling up and pulling on his gloves.

"Hey, why don't you let me call a taxi," Tony says and Bruce turns to look at him in surprise. "This isn't the kind of weather to be walking as far as you have to go."

Bruce furrows his brow. "Um, well, the cold doesn't bother me so much," he states and something about that echoes in Tony's mind for some reason he can't put together at the moment.

"Really, I insist," Tony tries again. "I’m not trying to be patronizing, honestly. But I want you to keep safe. And it's... It's Christmas Eve. Do you have anyone to even spend it with?"

"Yes, actually," Bruce states. "I was thinking of heading to the children's home... Um, the one that was at the event," he explains in an uneven tone.

"That's even further," Tony says with a frown.

Bruce lets out a sharp, exasperated exhale of breath and says, "Tony, please, just stop." Then his eyes widen. Tony's does as well. "I'm... I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark."

"Don't be," Tony tells him, feeling gutted that Bruce clearly doesn't want to be near him for some reason or another. He doesn't know how to take that, what it means, but it hurts and makes him lose the little bit of hope he'd been letting himself cling to that Bruce might remember on his own. "We were on a first name basis. And... trust me. You were very aware that I can be a little much sometimes. I'm the one that's sorry. I don't want to make it harder on you." He sighs and runs a gloved hand through his hair. "I need to be getting back to Stark Tower anyway. Tell Peter I said Merry Christmas and that Santa's definitely going to bring him that new, top of the line skateboard he asked for."

Bruce looks at him in confusion and Tony suddenly realizes he's done it again. He's gone and blurted out things without context.

"You know Peter?"

"I do," Tony says carefully. "He's a great kid. A little ball of energy."

Bruce blinks, then slowly nods. "He is. I just... I didn't realize you knew him. Unless he was at the charity event," he says in a considering tone. "But how did you know about the skateboard? Did he tell you?" Bruce looks like he's trying hard to keep his tone from being suspicious, but Tony can still hear it.

Tony sighs and closes his eyes, wishing he could just wake up from this nightmare. All he can see and hear is Bruce as he was, not the Bruce standing in front of him right now.

"What if I was Santa Claus," he mumbles under his breath, thinking of that night little over six months ago. He'd never expected how much he could change in six months, how much he could come to want someone, to need Bruce as much as he does.

"Did you say what if you were Santa Claus?" Tony snaps open his eyes to see Bruce studying him. Then suddenly he laughs, not mocking but amused, and it goes straight to Tony's heart like a burst of color and warmth even if everything is still colorless and cold, just to hear that laugh again. "So, like, you dressed at Santa at the event? Because I'm having a hard time picturing you as everyone's ideal of Santa. No offense," he says with another snort, and brushes back the wisps of hair that the wind has blown into his face before stuffing his hand back into his coat pocket.

"You mean the stereotype of Santa? The one where he's a jolly, old, fat man? What if they're wrong? I mean," he shrugs, "what if..."

"If... what?" Bruce looks at him with that genuinely curious expression he gets, a little amusement still dancing in his eyes.

Tony realizes he probably should have left when he still had a chance because he breaks and says, "Everyone is under the impression that Santa Claus works at the North Pole. Or that Santa Claus is some intrinsically good and eternal being. Bullshit on both accounts." Bruce blinks rapidly and lifts an eyebrow as if asking him to continue his 'theory' on Santa, so Tony does. "First of all, it's definitely not the same guy for hundreds of years. How creepy would that be?" Bruce shrugs. "I mean, sure, there's this guy who is pretty old, but he's also from another planet, realm, whatever and he's the one who gave the Santa family their whole Santa Claus magic in the first place. And, okay, it's entirely possible the Santa family lives longer than average, but…" His sentence trails when he realizes that now Bruce is looking at him like he's not sure if he should still be amused or perhaps concerned. "Wait, what was the point being made here again?"

"Um, not sure. Something about the North Pole? Or—"

"Oh, right. Santa does not work at the North Pole. There's literally nothing there. Thor the Asgardian might have given them magic, but not the kind of magic that creates a random land mass where there isn't one. He just gave them the magic to bend time and space and all that fun stuff."

"Thor?" Bruce repeats incredulously.

"And, you know, intelligence might have been a magical gift too because, seriously, to be Santa you have to be smart. Kids these days want the good stuff. Also, can I just say micromanaging a company large enough to mass produce that many toys for just a single night… that's probably some magical gift because it's it's a lot of work and it's not like there are actual elves that do all the work just for Santa to get all the glory." Sure the book doesn't mention those particular gifts explictly, but Tony wouldn't be surprised at this point. "I mean, think about it. One, the stories about the elves is like borderline slavery and, two, there's no way the entire Earth's population of elves lives at the North Pole – which, again, isn't a thing – so that nobody ever has seen an elf."

"True..."

"Of course, there is Clint Barton; he's practically an elf of The Lord of the Rings variety," Tony says and hates that Bruce doesn't even look like those names ring any bells. "And Natasha's pretty spritely on her feet. Pepper is cute like an elf, unless you mean that in a demeaning way because then it turns scary and quick. And, sure, there are lots of other minions and robots and other things that are technically like helpers, but they're actually employees and not literal elves. They have to get paid, you have to cover dental..." He adds jokingly as an aside, "Hermey, though not an elf, was definitely real and he was a lobbyist for worker benefits." That at least inspires another laugh from Bruce and the physicist tilts his head slightly, watching him with a small smile. "...you have to sign them to a life time Non-Disclosure contract to never reveal the secret complete with the memory erasure clause that states upon resignation, retirement or at the discretion of the company, an employee will have his or her memories selectively removed and replaced telepathically…" He swallows hard as that fact hits too close to home at the moment and he sees the way Bruce's face twists as if displeased by the idea as well. "Uh, yeah, which really isn't ethical at all, but you know. These things happen from time to time. They're working on better alternatives, I promise." He sighs. "There are essentially a whole lot of cogs and gears that keep Stark Industries running." Bruce goes lax in amusement again. "Yeah, Stark Industries."

Tony shrugs. He can tell Bruce still thinks he's just putting on an act, but he can't stop himself. He's never been able to with Bruce and he's certain he never will be.

"Most of the world thinks of Stark Industries as the leading pioneer in innovation," he continues. "That's great. It's entirely not inaccurate since, yeah, when they're not making toys for good little boys and girls, they're definitely making toys for the adults and obviously they're into making the world a better place because if not there goes their livelihood – and Santa is supposed to be altruistic in general or something like that; it goes without saying. But while most of the people think Stark Industries is a progressive organization in the field of science and technology, with a big ugly building in New York..." He mumbles, "Depending on who you ask." Bruce raises pulls his hands from his pockets and starts rubbing at his arms since it's starting to get bitterly cold, but still Tony can't stop. "...and lots and lots of money and scientists on board, again, all true, behind all of that is a group of carefully selected employees all working to make Christmas magical for the world.

"The company manual refers to that coveted elite part of the company, residing on the top ten floors of Stark Tower before you hit the penthouse, as R&D – research and development, basically Candyland. In fact, it's really Toyland. Sure, it's still technically research and development, just of toys. And everyone jokingly refers to it as Reindeer & Delivery even though reindeer haven't been used since the fifties."

Bruce squints, and nods, as he shrugs. Then he looks around as if he's growing tired.

"Let me hail you a taxi, on me," Tony interjects. "I insist." He pulls out his wallet. As he does, something else comes to him. "Oh and let's not forget about SHIELD. SHIELD, on the outside, is your typical government agency tasked with making the world a better place through protection which goes hand in hand nicely with what Stark Industries is supposed to be about. Right? SHIELD is supposed to stand for Strategic Homeland Intelli… Oh hell, never mind. It's a mouthful. It was easier when it was SSR. But what SHIELD really stands for is Santa's Headquarters for Intelligence on Every Little Deed. Yeah, that's right. Santa still sees you when you're… well, not sleeping. That's pretty much somnophilia without the sexual undertone and also seriously creepy. They definitely don't do that. But the whole naughty or nice thing still stands and SHIELD is there to collect that data. For the outside world it's basically government-run big brother, but secretly it's big brother for children everywhere. Okay, maybe it's still a little creepy."

"A little," Bruce says through gritted teeth.

"The point I'm trying to make here is being Santa is exhausting. Who would want that kind of responsibility? Who would want to give up the carefree image of genius billionaire playboy just for the sake of giving toys to kids one night a year and having misinterpretations of your identity plastered everywhere in New York between November 1^st and December 26^th – and occasionally in July?"

Bruce takes the initiative of hailing a cab for himself and Tony realizes he only has so much more time and that he has to pick his words carefully rather than using the ready, fire, aim tactic. He can't give away his secret, but if only... He sighs when at that moment a cab stops.

"Well, this has been..." Bruce clearly searches for a word. "Interesting," he says.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," Tony says with a wag of his finger. Bruce raises his brow in askance. "It's one thing to question the official story and another thing entirely to make wild accusations or insinuate that Tony Stark is Santa Claus," Bruce snorts and rolls his eyes in that fond way he used to do, "but the truth is… deep down… where the spirit of Christmas lives…" Tony takes a breath. "You already know who I am."

Bruce pauses, his hand resting on the taxi door where he was going to open it. Tony's heart begins to beat so rapidly that he's not sure he'll survive. Bruce slowly turns his head to look at him and there's a line between his eyebrows. Then he smiles and Tony's heart stops.

"We were friends, weren't we?"

Tony squeaks in surprise and bittersweet tears prickle his eyes. "Yes," he answers simply and as evenly as he can.

Bruce hums and opens the door. "What was that like?"

"Perfect." It's all Tony can say.

"Wish I could remember," Bruce then says with a lost-sounding sigh. He shakes his head and gets into the back of the cab. Tony hands him the cash and holds onto the door. "Merry Christmas, Tony," Bruce says, looking up at him with a small smile. "I'll be sure to pass along your message that Tony Stark is bringing Peter a skateboard for Christmas."

"I'm sure he'll be very excited," Tony says with a tight smile. "Merry Christmas, Bruce."

He steps back and makes to shut the door, but first Bruce says, "By the way, please be safe tonight yourself. This weather is crazy. Do you want dropped off at Stark Tower?"

Tony can't take another second longer with Bruce like this so he shakes his head. "No, I'll catch the next one."

Chapter Text

"Do you know what kind of emergency protocol you enacted by your disappearing act, Stark? Huh? You turned this entire operation into a madhouse. Do you live to make my life fucking difficult with your careless, selfish behavior? Because I think you do."

Tony blinks slowly. "Are you done yet?"

"No, I am not done. You weren't supposed to go anywhere near him until the doctor gave the okay."

"I had to," Tony insists.

"No, you didn't have to do anything. You didn't have to go out into a cold-ass-fucking-blizzard and on Christmas Eve no less!"

"Like you're not sending me up in a blizzard anyway?" Tony counters with an incredulous expression towards the man on the screen. "Look, I'm here, aren't I? I've got the suit on, don't I? I'm ready to do this. I just had to see him first. I'm not going to apologize for that."

"Sir," Clint speaks up, sighing as he does, "with all due respect, we had to realize this might happen. He's been crazy about Dr. Banner since the very beginning. Why would that change now?" Clint shakes his head at him, smirking a little.

"Don't get us wrong," Natasha takes over, "it was dangerous and the least he could do is realize it." She throws a glare in his direction. "But we can't change it now. He's here so we should be focusing on getting the mission underway before this storm gets any worse."

Fury looks like he's still three seconds away from attempting to cancel Christmas himself before he finally huffs. "Agent Romanoff is right. But don't think this is over, Stark. It's simply on hold. We'll discuss your little field trip tomorrow."

"Let's get one thing straight before we do this," Tony says in challenge. "Regardless of what you think about me, I care about the kids out there. I'm one hundred percent committed to bringing them Christmas cheer regardless of what Loki's done. Foiling Loki is a bonus because Bruce's memory loss is not going to be in vain."

Everyone glances around at each other and then looks back at the director. With a firm nod, Fury grunts, "Good."

Tony claps his hands. "Okay, everyone to your posts and prepare for mission launch."

They all roll their eyes at him in sync. "We're not going into space, Stark," Fury clips. "But you heard the man," he says then. "I want that sleigh in the air in no more than ten." The video feed cuts out.

Tony takes a deep breath and stands there in a daze for a moment. He's broken from it by the sight of his main tactical team all looking at him.

"Are you okay, Tony?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, sure," Tony says breezily, but it's not very convincing even to his own ears. "I meant what I told Fury. I'm not going to let those kids down. And I'm not going to let that bastard win." He sighs. "Even if I didn't mean it, Bruce would be disappointed in me if I didn't at least try. He trusted me. I failed him with Loki, but I won't fail him with this."

"There you go thinking Christmas lies solely on your shoulders again," Steve says with a smile and shake of his head. 

"Right. Don't you think Nat and I feel bad we couldn’t catch Loki?" Clint asks. "That we didn't get there in time to help you?" Tony blinks as he considers it.

"You were right about him, Stark," Natasha says. "You were right to ignore everyone's skepticism and go with your instincts with him."

"We're not skeptical anymore, Tony," Steve speaks again. "So you don't have to do this alone. You don't even have to miss him alone. We all feel his loss in some way and regret that we failed you both."

Tony blinks rapidly and slowly furrows his brow. He looks down at Bruce's old watch. Their words spark something in him and sudden revelation dawns on him.

"But he's not lost," Tony says. He looks up at them and sees their confusion. "Loki could have eliminated Bruce, but he didn't." And he's grateful as the thought pierces him, but he forces it aside. "That would have crushed my spirit more efficiently. But he wanted me to suffer. He wanted me to live in a world where Bruce doesn't believe in me anymore." He takes off toward the sleigh in quick strides, the others following promptly behind.

"It's less efficient maybe," Steve comments, "but it's certainly more flashy."

"And enjoyable. He can have his cake and eat it too," Clint adds in a knowing tone.

Tony turns on his heels to look at them. "But that's the thing. He's not going to have his cake and he damn well isn't going to eat it. Not as long as Bruce is still out there."

"Why?" Natasha asks, like a challenge, like she wants to hear what he'll say.

Tony smiles for the first time since leaving Bruce. He smiles because he can't help it as hope rises in his chest again. "Because I saw Bruce's Christmas spirit before he even knew who I was," he tells them. "So Loki couldn't have taken that away. As long as he's okay then he still has it and that means Loki can't win." The others glance between themselves as if still not quite sure they get it. "Look, I don't care if it takes Charles years to bring him back to me. Or if I have to start all over again with him from the beginning, I'm willing to do it." He looks down at the watch again and thinks of the other one that Bruce still wears, thinks of the inscription on the back. Not just pretty words, but a conviction that Tony feels deep down in his soul and has since the day he met the other man. "Because I get it now. The colors, the intuition," he shakes his head, "those aren't my gifts." He looks at them. "Bruce is and I haven't lost him."

❄

The helicarrier is a hub of activity as the sleigh is refilled. Tony sits with a blanket wrapped around him near a space heater. He's got hot soup, hot chocolate, and even a touch of alcohol. He's still freezing.

He's not sure he'll ever get warm again. The suit has heating elements, there's a heated blanket in the sleigh, and he's had the roof and windows up with the heat on in the sleigh itself. And it's barely enough. It seems like nothing is warm enough.

He looks around at all of the SHIELD agents as they hustle, wrapped in coats and gloves of their own. Even Fury is dressed unusually. Well, he's still wearing a black trench coat, but it's a wool one. And he has a ski hat on his head which is bizarre. Steve, Natasha, and Clint haven't had it any better in the support jet, complaining over the comms of freezing so he knows the proposed shift of him into the QuinJet wouldn't do much good to solve the problem. It's damn cold everywhere.

At that moment Commander Hill comes onto the main screen and the connection isn't very good. Tony furrows his brow.

"Agent Hill?" Fury seems surprised as well.

"Sir, conditions in this sector are getting worse by the minute. We’re facing white out conditions and temperatures are plummeting. I don't know if either the jet or the sleigh will even be able to continue. Even if their lights and GPS are enough to get through the thick of it I'm not sure the wind alone won't be too much, sir."

"Director Fury," Coulson says, suddenly coming up on the screen so that it's split. His connection is even worse and Tony shoots to his feet in concern. He hurries over to the controls to check the connections even if he worries it's not on their end. "We've lost an engine." Tony stops abruptly at that and glances at the screen. "And the others are freezing over rapidly. As is our other equipment. We also have several cases of hypothermia starting to set in. Mr. Stark cannot come to this sector."

"Then get the hell out of there!" Tony shouts. "Why are you still there?"

"Sir," an agent calls from somewhere in the helicarrier. "All news outlets are reporting that a state of emergency has been issued."

"What sectors?" Fury asks. "Where do we need to reroute?"

"Not sectors, sir." The agent sounds shaken. "Global."

They all stop and look at one another in shock and trepidation.

"What the hell are we facing here, Fury?" Tony is the first to break the silence. "Another ice age?"

"Aye," Thor's voice thunders through the helicarrier and they all turn and see him storming into the control room. "I returned to Asgard from my search for Loki across the realms to see if Heimdall had yet discovered his whereabouts only to learn of your misfortune. It is as I feared. I searched our relics to discover the Casket of Ancient Winters has been stolen, replaced with an imitation of cunning skill."

"Cunning skill," Clint repeats. "Now who does that sound like?"

"What is the Casket of Ancient Winters?" Tony voices the question they all have to be thinking.

"A mighty weapon with the power to freeze this planet through if we do not find it in time," Thor says solemnly and Tony wastes no time in hijacking one of the computers. "I fear many will not survive its assault much longer nor will your technology."

"So assuming he even has the goodwill to stop wielding it before we all freeze to death, he could set us into a dystopian panic and set himself up as our subjugator, is that it?" Tony bites out as he works as rapidly as possible through the coding of all of the weather maps and models on the planet.

"Then Dr. Banner was just a distraction," Natasha chimes in and Tony freezes for a moment as that sinks in. "He needed us focused on the wrong thing."

"Another engine down, sir!"

Tony snaps his eyes back toward the large screen to see Coulson's pale expression. He then looks at Fury who matches his knowing.

"Prepare for emergency evacuations immediately," Coulson tells them and then looks at them all solemnly before ending the call.

The entire helicarrier goes eerily quiet. At last Hill breaks it with a quiet, sober, "Sir?"

"I want you to begin your own emergency evacuations while you still can, Agent," Fury tells her. She nods and the feed cuts out.

"We can't just abandon them!" Clint shouts. "You know as well as I do that Phil won't leave that damn ship. He'll go down with it."

"Do you think I don't know that, Barton?" Fury shouts back. "There are a lot of good agents on that ship that don't stand a chance."

Tony worries his lip. Then he moves back over to the center of the room quickly and pulls up a holographic model of the entire Earth.

"What is that?" Steve asks.

"What's it look like?" Tony snaps. "It's a weather radar of the entire Earth's surface. And that," he spins it, "is where we'll find Loki's weapon." He points to the eye of the storm and then zooms in and expands it. "Sonofabitch."

❄

"Okay," Tony says when he gets out of the sleigh on board the third helicarrier, a tad disoriented, "I can understand why we don't really use that gift."

"You shouldn't be here, Stark!" Phil shouts at him as he and six agents come running across the deck, one carried on a stretcher. "It's too dangerous."

"Which is why I’m here," Tony argues. "So stop being stubborn and keep them coming. Six at a time until we get the sick out," he says looking at the four squeezed in the back with the one that had been on the stretcher laid across their laps. "Then after that we can maybe double up and get this done faster."

"We have emergency parachutes," Phil says.

"And I have a sleigh that can open a wormhole directly to wherever I want, which is currently Stark Tower, so I win. Seriously, stop arguing and get back inside until I return."

Phil looks like he wants to protest, but then nods and follows his instruction while Tony hurries back into the sleigh. His face feels wind burnt and his limbs already ache from the few short moments in the subzero temperatures, but he pushes it aside.

"Alright everyone," he warns, "this won't be a joyride." He hits the accelerator, taking off from the flight deck and then hits the appropriate button. A blue beam shoots out into the blizzard from the front of the sleigh, opening a small portal. The sleigh then accelerates into the portal. There's an eerie flash of cold nothingness, no longer than the blink of an eye but still something Tony feels acutely, before they speed through another portal and towards the sleigh deck of Stark Tower. "I'm here," he says into his comm and as he lands, Pepper rushes out with Dr. Cho and several SHIELD agents.

He doesn't get out as the agents from the tower help those in the sleigh out under Dr. Cho's careful guidance. Tony looks around at the conditions here, still bad and enough for a state of emergency though nothing near what's being dealt with outside the epicenter. He looks at Pepper then.

"Everyone not instructed by Fury to help you is down in the shelter with emergency supplies and under lock down," Pepper says before he can ask.

"You need to be down there too. You're not trained for this," he tells her.

"I think being your secretary has been training enough," she says defiantly and rushes back into the tower.

Tony shakes his head and then says, "I'm on my way back, Coulson. Send them."

He waits for a, "Copy that." It sounds a little faint, but he opens another portal and returns to the helicarrier. He's almost immediately greeted by six more agents rushing toward the sleigh.

This cycle continues. Two trips, three trips, and then four. It's on the fourth that thunder roars and lightning lights up the snow-white sky above the tower. He looks up for a second and then returns to his task, ignoring how each subsequent trip the disconcerting feeling of the wormhole grows. He loses count of what trip they're on.

"Sir?"

Tony blinks and realizes that the sleigh is already filled again. Had he zoned out? He closes his eyes tight and then blinks them again a few more times.

"Alright. Dash away," he says in deflection before taking them to the tower. 

"Stark, the last engine is reaching critical failure," Phil says into the comm, his voice wearier than Tony has ever heard it, as the agents unload from the sleigh. "I need to get the rest of the agents out now."

"Don't you dare move a muscle," Tony orders and then hurries back.

When he lands the sleigh, he jumps out as more agents hurry to pile in. He hurries toward where Phil watches from the door to the deck. Halfway there he stumbles forward and onto his knees. Phil is at his side in an instant.

"Stark!" He hears Phil shout and then cough violently a few times like he's short of breath. "Fury, Stark is down," he says roughly. "I repeat, Stark is down. All agents who are able, come help me."

Tony tries to respond, tries to move, but he feels the cold settle into his bones freezing him in place. Everything is starting to blur together around the edges and he's tired. It feels like all hope is lost. It feels like he might as well just give up, give in.

"Stay with me, Tony," Phil says and Tony flutters his eyes open wide and tries to focus on him. He looks to be in an awful state himself. He almost looks like he's the one that needs someone to say that sort of thing to him. "We're going to get you back—"

"No," Tony croaks, finding his voice and trying to push back up. "I can't…" But it's so cold and they're out of time if they can't get everyone off the ship now. "I won't—"

"Tony?" Tony blinks. He must be so far gone now that he's hallucinating. He closes his eyes, wanting to give into the hallucination completely. "Tony, can you hear me? Tony, please answer me!"

"Dr. Banner?" Coulson queries.

Tony snaps open his eyes. Coulson hears him too? "Bruce?"

"Oh thank god," Bruce breathes out. "Tony, I'm here."

"Is it…" Tony's tears freeze the second they leave his eyes and he has to find the strength to wipe them away. "Are you real?"

"I'm real, Tony. It's really me. I remember. I remember, Tony, so you've got to stay with me. You've got to stay safe," he reminds him, his voice shaky like he might be crying. Tony gives a strangled, relieved laugh at the echoed sentiment as his emotions overwhelm him. "We're on our way, Tony."

"We are," Clint says then. "The temperature is rising slowly, but it's still a white out and we can't find you on GPS."

"We're running on back-up here, Barton," Coulson says to that. "It's a miracle," he coughs, "it's a miracle we're still in the air at all. And if you don't get here soon we won't be. Tony," Phil then says, looking at him, "you need to get to the sleigh and get back to the tower. Me and the others will wait for—"

"Nope," Tony says around the biting wind and snow. "Other way around. I'll put you in that damn sleigh if it's…" He shivers and he doesn't know that it's only the cold. "If it's the last thing I do."

"It will be, Stark," Phil warns, wrapping his arms around him. Tony feels the other man shaking violently. 

"We're almost there," Natasha says. "Based on your last known coordinates."

"We would have drifted by now," Tony chokes out as his eyes grow heavy. "Bruce, I'm so sorry," he decides to say just in case.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Bruce says and he sounds like he's fighting back tears. "I'm here. I'm okay. And so are you, Tony. You're going to be okay."

"I don't know that I will be, Bruce," he says honestly. Then he snorts bitterly. "Santa doesn't have a Rudolph to get him out of this one."

"We need to get inside," Phil whispers, and it sounds like a struggle for him. "We need to get you a parachute." He looks up and Tony realizes they're surrounded by the remaining SHIELD agents in a huddle of bodies he hadn't even felt. "Everyone, we need to prepare—"

"Glow," Bruce interrupts in a manic tone. Tony furrows his brow. "That's it! Tony, you have to glow."

"I…" He blinks. "I can't, Bruce. I haven't—"

"Don't tell me you can't!" Bruce shouts. "You can and you will."

"I really can't," Tony bites out; his throat is so raw. He closes his eyes.

"Yes you can," Bruce insists. "I believe in you, Tony. I believe in you." Tony feels everything in his body spark to life at his words. "And—and if you can't believe in yourself, then believe in me. You said you do so believe in me, Tony. Because I believe in you." His voice is an emotional whisper. "And I love you. I love you, Tony."

Tony's eyes snap open. His chest starts to swell with warmth, warmth he wasn't sure he'd ever feel again, and slowly the space around him begins to grow brighter and brighter.

"There," Bruce shouts.

"Where?" Clint asks dubiously.

Tony smiles at the sound of Bruce in his ear, taking over and proving his genius as he guides the jet toward them by recalculating the approximate coordinates aloud. "Good, Tony," Bruce takes a second then to cheer. "You're still glowing."

Tony smiles wider. He looks around and realizes everyone is glowing too, even if Bruce can only see him. Then he closes his eyes again.

He has his gift back.

❄

When Tony wakes up the first thing he notices is he's warm again. The second thing he notices is he's at the SHIELD hospital. The third thing is Bruce dozing in a chair next to the bed, his head lulled to one side in what can't be a very comfortable position even if it makes for quite an adorable picture.

Everything comes back to him at the sight. The storm, trying to evacuate the helicarrier, and the Christmas Eve miracle he'd never seen coming. He can hear Bruce in his ears, telling him things he'd almost lost hope of ever hearing when December 24^th had dawned.

"Bruce," his name leaves his lips like a prayer of thanks.

Bruce flinches. Then he slowly opens his eyes. He blinks them a few times and then furrows them as if mildly confused. Then clarity settles into those brown orbs as they focus on Tony and a very small smile touches the physicist's lips.

"Tony," he says his name in an almost-identical way.

Bruce stands to his feet and moves toward the bed at the same time Tony surges forward and their lips crash together. Tony uses one hand to pull Bruce as close as possible by his shirt and the other to hold his head in place while they kiss as if it's been years, not days.

"God, I missed you so much," Tony says, between their desperate devouring of one another.

"I did too," Bruce follows suit. "I…" He breaks the kiss and looks intently at Tony. "I knew there was something important missing. I felt it. It was so empty. And at the café when you were there…" His lips are a watery line as he searches Tony's eyes. "It was the first time things felt almost right. And, god, I wanted… I hoped maybe it was you." Tony's heart soars and he captures Bruce's lips again for more kisses that convey how relieved their souls are to be whole again. "By the way, we need to maybe discuss your definition of friendship," Bruce adds with a playful chuckle when they need air again.

"I was trying not to shock you," Tony defends himself. "It's not untrue and technically, I wasn't supposed to be there at all."

"But you never listen," Bruce says with a fond shake of his head.

"Not when it comes to you," Tony replies and Bruce replies with an eyebrow raised in playful dubiousness. "Okay, so I don't tend to listen in general," he amends. Tony gives him an intent look, remapping every detail of Bruce's face as he smiles. "But I'll never be able to help myself when it comes to the man I love." Bruce's playful expression immediately dissolves into surprise and then it happens. Bruce glows green and Tony is able to see it again. "I love you, Bruce," Tony says. "I love you."

They kiss again, still desperate, but also emotional and full of hopes and promises if the warmth in Tony's chest is any indication.

"He's already stabilized, doc," Natasha's lilting voice breaks through their private reverie and they break apart to see a host of visitors standing in and around the doorway. "No need to warm him up anymore."

Tony shoots her a playful glare. "Says you." Then he looks around at who's there: Natasha, Clint, Steve, Bucky, Thor, Pepper, and even Charles. He furrows his brow and then focuses on Thor. "Where's Loki?"

"He was subdued and has been returned to the halls of Asgard where he will be held accountable for his crimes," Thor answers in a sober tone. "I have returned to help right his misdeeds in any way I can." He smiles then. "And to inquire after our resilient Santa."

"Resilient and reckless," Bruce counters that with a smile at Tony.

"Well, what about you?" Tony suddenly protests. "I told you to keep safe. And what do you do? You fly into the thick of it!"

"Aye," Thor agrees with an even wider smile and clasps a hand on Bruce's shoulder. Tony winces at the way Bruce falters a little, knowing the feeling. "Any mortal who can subdue Loki as Dr. Banner has done is also resilient."

"You what?" Tony glances at Bruce to see him looking like he'd rather disappear than have this discussed. "You went after Loki?"

"Um," Bruce rolls his lips and glances up. "You could say that." He shrugs sheepishly. "I might not have been in my right mind at the time. Don't really remember the details. I just—"

"You went into a blind rage?" Tony puts together what Bruce isn't saying. "Like you did—"

"Yes," Bruce cuts off that statement pointedly, glancing at him finally. "I saw him and... pretty much lost control."

"I wondered for a moment if he was possessed by the Berserker Staff," Thor says with a laugh. "But no, only the same powerful Christmas spirit as our brave Santa." Thor glances between them with a soft, knowing sort of smile.

Tony wonders at that, but then smiles and quips, "Is it wrong that I want to see the video footage?" Bruce frowns at him. "Don't worry I—" Tony stops mid-sentence and then looks around in realization. "Where's Phil?"

The others look around at each other. "Still stabilizing," Fury says and they all part like the red sea and look to see him standing in the door. "An agent said he was showing symptoms of hypothermia prior to his contacting us."

"And the bastard didn't say a damn thing?" Tony asks in aggravation. "I would have taken him back first."

"You know he wouldn't have gone any more than you would have, Stark," Fury replies in an incredulous tone. "I'm surrounded by stubborn ass insubordinates."

"Technically, you're subordinate to me so I don't factor into that equation. And that means I'm the one surrounded by insubordinates. Not that I care all that much. Except when they're lives are in danger."

"Yours was too, Tony," Steve points out. "That many trips through the wormhole, into subzero temperatures on top of it?" He grimaces as he shrugs his head to one side.

Bruce flinches and Tony looks at him. "Your heart might not have been able to handle much more," he says with a hint of lingering fear.

There's a long moment of quiet and Tony uses it to try and process everything. Bruce being beside him. Loki having been dealt with. Phil's condition. His own mortality. What a hell of a first Christmas as Santa. Maybe they'd all been right to think he'd—

"I failed," he suddenly realizes. "I failed my first Christmas Eve."

"Tony, you didn't," Bruce protests.

At the same time some of the others do likewise, talking of saving lives which is just as important. It's all too much until suddenly Charles says, "Everyone take a break." Tony blinks in surprise when he realizes that everyone, save for himself, Charles, and Fury, is suddenly frozen in place. He looks at Charles in disbelief. "That's why I'm here, Tony."

"Okay, with a trick like that, maybe you should be Santa," Tony responds in a precarious tone and then looks at Fury with a raised eyebrow. Then he glances at Bruce with a frown.

Charles sighs. "Oh, alright," he says and suddenly Bruce joins them in the land of the conscious. "I suppose it's only fitting since he'll no doubt be second-in-command as the Mr. Claus," he adds with a chuckle.

"What the hell did I miss?" Bruce mumbles, looking around before focusing on Tony in askance. Then he snaps his attention back toward Charles. "Wait, what was that?"

Before he can get an answer, Fury explains, "There are still two hours until dawn on this side of the planet. Obviously that's not enough time to get through the rest of your stops and doesn't account for the ones you have left in parts of the world where the sun's already up. But we have an action plan and a little bit of an advantage afforded to us by the storm." Tony furrows his brow. "Everything is grounded and most people are stranded. Not to mention the majority of the world is just downright confused about what was being dealt with."

"Yeah, I'd say so," Tony replies. "On the bright side, maybe people will take the climate change activists a little more seriously now."

"If this doesn't do it, nothing will," Bruce agrees.

"We'll deal with damage control on that front later," Fury states. "In the meantime what we're proposing is loading the rest of the gifts into two or three QuinJets and taking Charles along to aid in delivery in areas where the sun is already up. It's not orthodox, but it'll do if you're feeling up to it. It's your call, Santa."

Tony bites his lip, looks at Bruce and then around the room. He nods as his eyes lock with Fury's steely gaze. "Alright. Let's do this."

❄

Tony steps off the QuinJet to cheers and fanfare, his first Christmas as Santa successful in spite of everything. He's not one to turn down applause, but frankly he's just relieved it's over and hopes that future years won't be quite so exhausting – otherwise he'll just beg Charles to remove his and Bruce's memories of Santa and give them some happily dull life somewhere with a half a dozen kids or so… He furrows his brow. He's not sure why he's already thinking of kids. Must be residual Santa feelings from having just delivered gifts to thousands of kids, he decides.

"I knew you would surprise us." His thoughts are interrupted and he turns to see Coulson. He's in a crisp suit as usual, but he's also in a wheelchair. "It was the only way they'd let me out to see you," Phil answers his unasked question with an exasperated huff.

"I'm glad you're okay," Tony says with an earnest, soft smile.

Phil smiles back. "I'm glad you are too," he responds. "You had me worried there for a minute. The world needs you."

"Yeah, more than you know," Tony replies cheekily.

"Not that much," Phil says with a shake of his head. Tony smiles at him again and then continues his trek through the tower. He just wants to find Bruce and rest for at least a week. He's never been more grateful for the idea of a three month vacation in his whole life. He wonders if he can cash in that chip a day early and skip the mission debrief. "Wait, where's Bruce?" He looks around at the group of his gathered friends and employees. He'd been a little disappointed that the other man hadn't been there to greet him right off the jet, but now he's concerned.

"I think he mentioned needing to take a few minutes to himself," Pepper answers.

"Only that was an hour ago, so he probably just fell asleep," Natasha says with a snort. "Disappointed, Stark?"

"Nope. Just wanted to make sure he was okay," Tony replies breezily.

"What a sap," Clint heckles without any malice.

"Don't let him fool you," Steve heckles along with him. "I definitely sensed a little disappointment."

Tony rolls his eyes. "Santa is putting you all on the naughty list effective immediately. Now if you'll excuse me—"

"Stark," Fury calls after him. Tony gives a weary sigh and turns to look at him, expecting the worse. "Good job. We'll debrief later." He cracks a rare smile. "Much, much later."

"Hark! The herald angels sing," he replies with a sigh of relief. Then he excuses himself to go change out of his suit and find Bruce.

Tony steps off the elevator to his penthouse and is greeted by the blessedly familiar sight of his door being open. He wastes no time entering and is greeted by the aroma of fresh-baking cookies. There's a fire crackling in the fire place and Christmas music playing softly. Tony smiles at how incredibly warm it all feels and bypasses changing right away in order to find Bruce.

Tony finds him in the kitchen, pulling a tray of candy cane cookies out of the oven that almost makes his mouth water. Tony's not sure how he's come to like candy cane anything, but then again Bruce's cookies are heavenly so he'd probably be crazy not to make an exception.

Bruce sets them on the stove and is cooling them when Tony creeps up behind him and asks, "Are those for me or for Santa?"

Bruce startles slightly, turning to face him, but Tony stops any admonishment with a quick capture of Bruce's lips.

"Well, Santa was here hours ago, so I guess they're for you," Bruce replies with a smile when they break apart.

Tony gives a considering hum. "Did he leave you anything good?"

"He said my present would get here a little later," Bruce answers. Then he gives him a playful look over. "Not exactly what I was expecting, but I guess you'll do." Tony barks out a laugh and they get lost in another kiss.

"Maybe you should give me a chance to show you just why Santa selected me," Tony says amidst open-mouthed kisses. He pulls away and nips a little at Bruce's lips. "I assure you I'm a top-of-the-line model. Which means you must have been a very good boy."

"Well, I still don't have a Santa kink," Bruce replies, pulling away from another kiss and pushing Tony back just a little with one hand. He looks at him with a wry smile. "So change out of the suit and maybe we can negotiate something." Tony gives an exaggerated groan, but promptly leaves to do just that. He hears Bruce chuckle as he goes and rememorizes the sound.

When Tony returns he finds Bruce sitting on the couch with a cup of hot cocoa in his hands. There's another one on the coffee table for Tony as well as the plate of cookies. Tony wastes no time in coming over to sit down beside him. He grabs his drink and a cookie, but pauses when he finds the secret Santa book on the coffee table as well. He raises an eyebrow at Bruce.

"I was curious," he answers in a sheepish tone. "But I couldn't bring myself to read anything. Is this the book that Phil mentioned? He said something about a page 616." Bruce glances at him. "Do I want to know?"

"Um," Tony responds tentatively, "well, honestly, I don't know. I haven't been able to bring myself to read that page. I was too busy missing you."

Bruce purses his lips and nods. He takes a drink of his cocoa as he looks at the book. Then with a hitch of a shoulder he suggests, "Well, we could read it together. Unless you don't think I should know," he adds quickly.

Tony considers it. He doesn't know if he needs or even wants to know anything more about his crazy job now that everything is calm and Bruce is beside him again. But at the same time Bruce is curious and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit also. "Okay," Tony agrees. "And if course you should know. No secrets."

Bruce gives a small smile at the reminder and then reaches for the book, setting aside his cocoa. He opens the book and thumbs to the page while Tony leans forward and places his own cocoa aside. When they get to the page, they both look at each other in an uncertain fashion. Tony takes a deep breath and drapes an arm around Bruce's shoulders, Bruce scooting a little closer when he does. Tony then glances down and Bruce follows suit. For a few, seemingly unending, moments the only sound is that of the fire and Christmas music.  

Tony's eyes skim the page and his eyes slowly widen with each new word regarding the last Santa, who'd had the gifts emerge in later years. His mouth falls open when he reaches the passages near the bottom of the page.

In ages past it is recorded of rare occasion; when Santa's love for another transcended body and mind to soul, his spirit would become a luminance so great and powerful the subject of his love could see it when that love was returned in kind.

As the records of the life of the unusually-gifted Santa are in accord with this tradition; and, as it is recorded the gifts were again disappeared upon the death of his great love, it can be thus decided that it is only upon the rare occasion of a transcendent bond of spirit that Thor's gifts to us are returned, perhaps as a blessing upon this bond by the Gods themselves.  

Tony reaches the end of the and turns to look at Bruce, eyes still wide.

"Oh my god," Bruce mumbles almost immediately after. He removes his glasses and looks at Tony with a dumbfounded expression. They hold this gaze for a long moment, the air thick around them. Bruce breaks it, glancing down at the book. "Because of me?" His tone is one of disbelief.

Tony's not really sure that's the part that's unbelievable, thinks that part was perfectly clear and obvious by now, but he indulges him with a firm, "Yes." Bruce glances back at him. "You already know it started that night I told you my secret. Specifically? It was when you started talking about how you envisioned Santa. That's when I first saw it. And the more I was with you, the stronger the gifts became. And when you were gone..." He lets his sentence trail unable to finish.

Bruce looks at him for a long moment without responding. Then he confesses, "The first time I thought I saw you glowing was that night too. It…" He furrows his brow. "It was right after I agreed to stay." Tony's eyes widen and he watches intently as Bruce glances around like he's looking for an answer. Then suddenly he looks at Tony with wide eyes like he's found an eureka instead. "Because I already couldn't imagine a life without you in it, Santa or not."

"Well," Tony says, taking the book in hand and then closing it, "I was going to say that was a hell of a conjecture for them to make as to the sudden reappearance of gifts, not to mention it took over three hundred years to see any repeated results." He places the book on the coffee table and then stands to his feet. He turns toward Bruce, the other man looking up at him with curiosity. "But I guess it's a moot point now that I've lived it."

He holds out a hand. Bruce glances at it with a furrowed brow, but stands and takes it just the same. Tony leads them over into the space between the fireplace and the Christmas tree to start a dance.

"Okay, but you're not even phased by the soulmates thing?" Tony asks with a raised eyebrow after a few quiet moments. "Not even a little?"

"You really have to ask?" Bruce chortles softly. "After the week I've had I'd say the concept of finding one all consuming love is pretty benign."

Tony snorts gently. "Fair enough."

"And you?" Bruce asks. "How do you feel about it?" It doesn't take Tony too long to find his answer.

He smiles and leans in to touch his forehead against Bruce's. Bruce closes his eyes and so does Tony as they stop swaying and simply enjoy the tender moment.

"I don't need any gifts to know how much I love you." He opens his eyes again and pulls back to look Bruce over. He's glowing and he can see his own glow reflected in Bruce's eyes, but Tony knows now for certain it wouldn't matter if there wasn't any glow at all. He searches Bruce's eyes and smiles his Tony-smile. "All I need is you."

Chapter Text

Tony smiles at the chaos going on around the party pavilion of Stark Industries. Along with other efforts throughout the city, and world, to get back to a state of normalcy following the freak snowstorm, SI is hosting a New Year's Eve Day charity drive and soup kitchen for those who are still having it rough following the state of emergency. The space is filled to the brim with people and children. Some teens from the youth center are helping with the efforts as well as some from the home for runaways. Many local businesses have partnered in the efforts.

In fact, Christmas spirit is so alive and strong around the world as people come together that Tony is starting to wonder when he'll stop seeing auras. They're absolutely everywhere, from the faintest hints to the nearly blinding ones. He knows everyone's probably judging him for wearing his sunglasses indoors, but unlike before at least now he's not just doing it because he's that guy.

"Peter!" Tony hears Bruce shout and he turns to find where he's at. He laughs when across the room he sees Peter inappropriately skateboarding indoors, doing some kind of flip trick, at the encouragement of some of the kids, not from his home, at the event. He quickly makes his way across the room to join Bruce. "I know you love the skateboard, which is why we agreed you could bring it, but you can't skateboard in here. I know you know that."

Tony places a hand on Bruce's shoulder and says, "What Bruce is trying to say is if you or any of the other kids get hurt while you're visiting us, they won't let you hang out with us anymore."

Peter's eyes open wide. "Like, never?"

"It's possible," Bruce warns with a frown and glances at Tony with a trace of undeniable worry in his eyes.

"Hey, you know, how about we compromise," Tony says and gestures him for them to all follow. He leads them to a closed room of the pavilion, not in use, and opens the door. "This is our dance hall." Bruce raises an eyebrow at that, knowing night club or rave scene is probably more accurate. "Hey, JARVIS, drop a beat."

"Boots and cats, boots and cats, boots and cats," JARVIS replies in his usual posh tone and all of the kids start to laugh, and Bruce as well.

"Ahaha," Tony replies, but then gives a genuine snort at the AI's joke. "Real music, please." Dance music starts to filter from the speakers in the room and Tony points to the DJ table. "It's pretty self-explanatory," he says, walking over to it, followed by the kids. He shows them how to change the tracks. "Go crazy. Just nothing inappropriate." Immediately the kids start fighting over taking turns as DJ. Tony decides to intervene and points to a shy girl on the edge of the group. "You first, sweetheart," he says with a smile. She lights up so bright and Tony's intuition tells him that she'd been wanting to be DJ, but not asserting herself like the others. He smiles as she takes over the controls. "Hey, Pete," Tony then says to Peter and nods for him to come with him over to the side. He places a hand on Peter's shoulder and says, "Look, you and I both know you're going to start right back up on your skateboard as soon as Bruce and I leave this room." Peter gives a wide-eyed, guilty expression. "So, can you at least promise me you won't do any tricks and you'll just keep it simple?"

"You mean boring?" He scrunches his face like just the thought is gross.

Tony snorts. "Yeah, boring. But also safe. You don't want Bruce to worry, right?"

Peter glances across the room to where Bruce is still hovering near the door. He smiles and looks back. "Okay. I promise."

"Good man," Tony says with a smile of his own. He then heads across the room to where Bruce is waiting. "Glad he didn't ask for a hoverboard," he says with a sigh and then a small snort.

Bruce lifts his brow. "You wouldn't have actually given him one if he did, right?"

"Well, no," Tony answers. "But not because they're unsafe necessarily…" He weighs his head side to side. "More because I don't think the home would have appreciated it too much."

"I can't say any caregiver would appreciate it very much," Bruce mumbles in a dubious tone, but Tony thinks he means that as he wouldn't have appreciated it.

Tony sighs and decides to change the subject. "What time is it? Because as much as I love this I am more than ready for our vacation."

Bruce chuckles and glances down at his watch. "Well, seeing as we don't leave for a couple of days—" He furrows his brow and then brings his watch up to his ear.

"Did it stop working?" Tony asks in concern.

"Uh, yeah, seems like it," he answers.

"Here, let me look at it," Tony says. "I'm sure I can fix it."

"You don't have to right now," Bruce replies with a smile and shake of his head.

"No, I know, but I'm Santa. I'm a tinkerer. It's what I do," he insists. Bruce gives in with another fond shake of his head and carefully pulls off the watch and hands it to him. "Need more light," Tony says and they leave the room to head over to one of the floor to ceiling windows in the pavilion. There Tony holds up the watch and inspects it with narrowed eyes.

"What do you have X-ray vision now, too?" Bruce asks with incredulity in his tone.

"No, thank Thor," he answers with a snort. "Just checking that the hands aren't bent or anything. Doesn't look like it though so chances are it just needs a new battery."

"The master engineer has spoken," Bruce says dryly.

Tony pouts at him in melodramatic fashion. "You know what, for that, I think I should just keep it." He looks at the watch and then flips it over to where the words I Believe In You are etched. "Clearly, you don't share this sentiment."

Bruce gives him a frightening sort of scowl. "I love you, but don't joke about my watch."

Tony's eyes widen when he realizes Bruce is dead serious. "Alright, noted." He hands it back to him and raises his hands in surrender.

"Sorry," Bruce says as he holds the watch reverently, looking at the back. He glances up at Tony and there's a wave of bittersweet emotion in the physicist's eyes.

Tony places a hand on Bruce's cheek and fixes him with a concerned look. "Hey, everything okay? I didn't mean it."

"No, I know," Bruce says with a nod. He looks back down at the watch. "It's just, I don't think I would have remembered without this watch." Tony's eyes widen. Bruce hadn't told him how he'd remembered yet because the emotion was still too much and their relief just too strong to talk about it. Bruce meets his gaze again. "So it means even more to me now. I don't even want to think about anything happening to it right now. Not so soon after…" He rolls his lips and shakes his head.

Tony offers him a soft smile and holds up his wrist so Bruce can see his old watch. "I think I understand."

"Is that…" Bruce blinks. "Is that my old watch?"

"I was wondering when you'd notice," Tony says with a small laugh. Then he sighs. "It was a little piece of you when I wasn't sure if or when I'd get you back. I don't think I'll be going back to my own watch anytime soon."

Bruce's eyes are bright with emotion. Tony leans in to kiss him, when his name is called out. He stops and looks to see the last person he'd ever expected to see.

"Dr. Yinsen?"

"Oh, I'm am so sorry," Yinsen looks between them in understanding, "I have interrupted. I can—"

"No, no, it's fine," Tony replies quickly. "We were just," he looks at Bruce's curious expression, "well, you probably already know. Um, Dr. Yinsen, this is Dr. Banner."

"Yes, I have read all about him," Yinsen says with a smile as he reaches out a hand and Bruce shakes it. "I saw in the news that Mr. Stark was seeing you so forgive me for doing a little research. I was surprised that he was seeing a nuclear physicist, you understand. It's about time you found somebody to keep that special brain of yours challenged," he says, the comment aimed at Tony.

"Oh, he does," Tony replies with a smile. "Bruce, this is Dr. Yinsen. He used to work with us. He was my mentor of sorts, and a very good friend."

Bruce smiles at that. "Well, it's wonderful to meet you, Dr. Yinsen. I hope I meet your approval," he adds jokingly.

"Oh, I'm sure you're far too good for him," Yinsen ribs Tony and it's so nice to have his mentor back if only for a short time. "My first name is Ho, so if you know Tony at all, you can imagine."

Bruce's eyes widen. "I can."

Yinsen laughs warmly. "Although I miss a little being called Ho Ho Ho Yinsen," he says with a shake of his head.

Tony furrows his brow. So Charles let him keep that memory? That was nice of him. He realizes they're both looking at him strangely so he clears hit throat and his thoughts.

"I'm so glad to see you again," he says. "What brings you back to New York? How long are you staying?"

"Not much longer, I'm afraid," Yinsen answers. "My wife and I came to visit our oldest daughter. She still lives here with her husband, you know," he explains. "And she just had her first child in November."

"Oh," Tony blinks and smiles wide, "congratulations."

"Yes," Bruce agrees. "First grandchild?"

"It is," Yinsen explains. "The most wonderful Christmas gift," he says with a twinkle in his eyes. Tony momentarily wonders what they'd actually chosen as a first gift for Yinsen's grandchild. He'll have to find its file. "We were leaving right after the holiday to spend New Year's with our other children and family, but our plans were waylaid a little."

"That's maybe an understatement," Bruce offers with a nervous chuckle and knowing glance toward Tony. He lifts an eyebrow in his direction.

"I see Mr. Stark is still prone to let his mind wander," Yinsen says and Tony refocuses on the conversation with a guilty laugh and shrug.

"Well, he probably wouldn't be Tony otherwise," Bruce says with a considering smile. Tony understands his meaning and entwines their hands.

"No, I suppose he wouldn't be," Yinsen agrees. "And it is very important he be true to himself." Tony snaps his attention back toward Yinsen. "But, yes, we're only here a little longer. And I decided I might as well take advantage of the extra time to pay a visit. Especially when I saw on the news the charity event."

Tony opens his mouth to find some kind of response when he hears a, "Sorry!" He glances at where Peter has run into a guest. Then Peter comes running the rest of the way over to them. Tony glances at Bruce to see him teetering between amusement and exasperation as he shakes his head. "Hey, we're gonna have a dance off!"

"Need some judges?" Bruce guesses.

"Yeah!" Peter looks between them both.  

"That sounds like fun," Tony says genuinely. "Maybe we can get the adults in on that afterwards and the kids can judge."

"Maybe," Bruce says in a considering, albeit slightly doubtful tone.

Tony starts to follow Peter's enthusiastic trail when he remembers Yinsen. "Okay, you two go along and I'll be there in a couple minutes. Promise." Bruce smiles in understanding and Tony watches Peter practically drag him off, his glow making him look like a shooting star or comet with a green tail.

"It seems the great Tony Stark is not wasting his life," Yinsen breaks through his thoughts and Tony turns his head to see him wearing a thin, pleased smile. "I am glad."

"Surprised at all?" Tony asks.

"No," Yinsen answers and holds out a hand. Tony takes it and it turns into a strong embrace. "Because I have faith in you," he whispers. Tony's eyes widen, his chest warming, and he pulls away from the hug to look at his retired mentor. Not only is there a gleam in Yinsen's eyes, but his glow is brighter than when he'd first come over which was rather bright to begin with. "I would wish you a happy new year," Yinsen says as if nothing has just happened, "but you've already found a good deal of happiness it seems so how about I wish you an even happier new year?" He smiles and Tony can only bring himself to nod. "Now I must be getting back to my family so I will let you get back to yours."

"Happier new year to you, too," Tony says. It's all he can manage and he stands there in a daze for a moment, watching the other man leave.

He takes off his glasses, blinking away a few tears, and looks around the room at the kaleidoscope of Christmas spirit. Tony has found a good deal of happiness, he realizes. It's even more than he'd originally realized. His eyes then settle on the door to the dance hall and he remembers his promise.

When he reaches the room he finds all of the kids already dancing to the refrains of a 70s song, Peter front and center hamming it up as he sings along, while several adults watch with amusement. Tony moves to Bruce's side and they immediately wrap their arms around each other's waists and he can tell without a doubt that Bruce feels all of the same happiness that Tony has found.

So who would want to give up the carefree image of genius billionaire playboy just for the sake of giving toys to kids one night a year, having your identity misinterpreted by the masses, dealing with the exhausting job of reading letters and checking lists and dealing with the occasional sociopathic demigod?

Honestly…

Who wouldn't?