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bookishwenchChristmas Eve at Tony’s penthouse started when the sun went down and the lights on the Christmas tree burst into multicolored perfection. Stockings hung along the bar, each one emblazoned with the name of an Avenger (and JARVIS), filled with tempting looking bumps and angles just begging to be discovered. Platters of food stood on a long table in the kitchen, with each person bringing something: Peter’s date nut bread from his Aunt May, Clint’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, Nick’s platter of barbeque chicken wings from his favorite spot, Bruce’s rather lopsided finger sandwiches, Pepper’s lasagna, Steve’s five bowls of different chips matched with Bucky’s eight different kinds of dip, Natasha’s offering of all the fixings for smores, Tony’s miniature cheeseburgers with little Christmas tree picks in them, and Thor and Loki’s haul of yet another roasted bilgesnipe and various bottles of mead and cider. It was easily the most fabulous spread yet.
Dressed in everything from ridiculous holiday sweaters to formal wear, everyone filled a plate, smiled, laughed, and almost seemed to glow with holiday spirit. Then they adjourned once more to the home theatre.
“Favorite movie,” Bruce said, leaning back in his seat with his arms behind his head as the lights came up when the end credits rolled. “Absolutely, no question, best of all time.”
“Not arguing that,” Tony said.
“Same,” Pepper agreed, dabbing at the tears that had been running down her face since the words “Merry Christmas you wonderful old Building and Loan!” had come from Tony’s gigantic speakers.
“I am very happy for the man falsely accused of theft!” Thor boomed, grinning so wide that his face looked ready to split. “He will not go to jail, and his family and shield brothers rallied to his cause, thanks to his spectacular wife! That was truly a phenomenal story, friend Tony!”
“It was fair,” Loki said while biting into a smore.
“Loki,” Natasha said, grinning, “I don’t think you’ve blinked in more than two hours. You were glued to the screen.”
“Yes, well, nothing much else to concentrate on,” he said, but a careful observer might have noticed his eyes were rather red.
“You know what does bug me about this?” Clint said. “Potter. He gets away with stealing eight grand and putting out an arrest warrant on somebody else for the crime he committed, and there’s no consequences.”
“He does get away with it,” Bucky said, “but that’s life, too.”
“Maybe Uncle Billy remembers later on that he was talking to Potter in the bank,” Peter said. “He might wind up in jail or something.”
“Possibly, but it would be nice to see the geezer behind bars,” Clint said.
“Yeah, but that’s not the mood of the movie,” Pepper said. “The whole point is the focus is on George and how the sacrifices he’s made make him into the richest man in town, like his brother says. So who cares about Potter?”
“In the old country, he would have been an example of a capitalist villain,” Natasha said.
“Was Violet Bick pregnant?”
Everyone turned to look at Peter.
“What?” Tony asked.
“When she goes to George to ask for money to move to another town to start over, it kind of seemed like she might be pregnant,” Peter said.
Bruce sat back and frowned.
“I have literally never considered that possibility before, and I’ve seen this movie at least thirty times,” he said. “It does kind of fit. Maybe?”
“Either way, she eventually chooses to stay,” Steve said. “You know George would help her out if she needed a loan or something.”
“He’s a decent guy,” Nick said. “Really decent. And so are you people.”
There was a deafening silence after Nick’s words hit home.
“How much of my mother’s mead have you drunk?” Loki asked.
“No, really, think what the world would be like without all of you in it,” Nick said.
“More peaceful?” Tony said. “A lot less weapons? Yinsen might still be alive?”
Nick shook his head before saying, “Tony, for once in your life, just accept you’re a decent man, say thank you, and deal with the good you’ve done.”
Natasha’s eyes looked doubtful, but Bruce made a point of putting his hand on hers and smiling.
“You too,” he said.
“And I believe the universe is better with the inclusion of my brother!” Thor said loudly as he clapped him on the back.
Loki frowned and said nothing, but the faintest trace of a smile was on his lips.
“Okay, present time!” Tony said. “Let’s see what Santa or Odin or Father Christmas or Amazon or whoever brought!”
Glasses were grabbed, napkins were pitched in the garbage can, and happy chatter filled the air as they made their way out of the theatre and wandered over to the stockings. Cups of hot chocolate stood waiting on the bar as well along with a variety of marshmallows, cinnamon sticks, candy canes, whipped cream, and sprinkles to top them.
“So, how are we doing this?” Bruce asked. “Tony and Pepper, your house, your rules.”
“Everybody grab your stocking and go over to the couches,” she said, indicating three large sectionals that formed a lopsided circle in the middle of the room. “Then each person opens their sock one by one so we can all enjoy making you feel highly uncomfortable. Your Secret Santa gift is in there.”
“Who goes first?” Nick asked.
The next hour was an emotional roller coaster. Nick opened his stocking first to find Thor had his name as a Secret Santa.
“Furious Nicholas, I have hand-crafted your gift,” he said proudly as Nick pulled out a small black box with a red bow.
Carefully, he opened it to reveal…
“Well, that’s real nice,” he said, taking out a new eyepatch.
“My father also has but one eye,” Thor said. “I patterned this on his favorite. He has worn a patch for thousands of years and states this particular design is both the most comfortable and least likely to come loose in battle.”
“Huh,” Nick said, taking off his usual and putting on the new one. “He’s not wrong. That’s a great fit. That was very thoughtful, Thor. Thank you.”
Thor grinned and sprayed more whipped cream on his hot chocolate.
“It looks snazzy, too,” Clint said. “The gold stitching is very subtle.”
“Nat, you’re up,” Bruce said.
She gave a suspicious glance inside her stocking then pulled out her Secret Santa gift, an oblong box wrapped in star-patterned paper that was folded with mathematical precision.
“From Peter,” she said, smiling over at him as he waved. “Nice to keep the arachnids together.”
“My best friend Ned is really good at wrapping stuff,” Peter said. “He builds models, so he’s into detailed work.”
Natasha carefully undid the wrapping and took out a box with three colors of nail polish: black, crimson, and silver.
“This is perfect,” she said, beaming at him. “I will definitely use these. Thank you.”
The gifts continued to roll along. Natasha had gotten Bucky’s name, and he opened his stocking to find season tickets to the Yankees.
“I used to follow the Dodgers, but now that they’re in California, I just can’t bring myself to do it,” he said.
“I know,” Natasha said, nodding at Steve.
In turn, Bucky had given Pepper a gift certificate for a massage from a high-end spa
“I kind of suspected you might need that after dealing with Tony every day,” he said, earning a couch cushion being thrown at his head, which he deftly caught with his metal arm and put behind his back to get more comfortable.
Pepper, who had drawn Loki, had knit him an elegant scarf in a soft green angora yarn.
“You actually knit this?” he asked, unfolding the scarf gently. It had a subtle pattern of interlocking serpents.
“I knit when I’m nervous,” she said. “You guys have been really busy lately, so I’ve been knitting a lot.”
“It is both thoughtful and appreciated,” he said, looping it around his neck.
Clint opened a rather large package from Loki that turned out to be a new quiver.
“Hey, that’s nice,” Clint said, lifting it up to examine it.
“It was made on Alfheim. You will find it always has room for new arrows but will never get any heavier,” Loki said.
“A bottomless quiver? Damn, I’m glad you got my name. Thanks.”
Bruce opened a gift from Clint that turned out to be a DVD collection of Monty Python.
“It must be twenty years since I’ve seen the dead parrot sketch,” Bruce said, grinning.
“It is an ex-parrot!” Clint yelled from the other side of the room while using a horrendous British accent.
“It is bereft of life!” Bruce quoted back in an even worse accent.
“What is going on?” Thor whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Steve.
“I have no idea, as usual,” Steve said, sipping his hot chocolate through a cinnamon stick. “I’ve learned to nod and roll with it.”
Bruce, who had ended up with Thor and had been clueless what to get him, had come up with a plan.
“A gift certificate for pizzas,” Thor said, smiling.
“Yeah, ten for each of the next five Fridays. Loki was nice enough to ask Heimdall for me, and they’ve set up a deal with the pizzeria that they’ll put them in the alley behind their kitchen, and the Bifrost will pick them up and send them to Asgard,” Bruce said.
“’Loki was nice enough,’” Tony repeated suspiciously.
“I intend to eat half of them,” he said, “so it’s of benefit to me as well.”
“Now that I can believe,” Tony said.
“Friend Bruce, I thank you,” Thor said.
Steve was up next.
“Okay, so don’t be mad,” Tony said.
Pepper rubbed her forehead and muttered, “What did you do?”
“What makes you think I did anything?”
“It is not normal to preface a Christmas gift with ‘don’t be mad,’” Pepper said.
“Okay, maybe I did something,” Tony admitted. “Here, this wouldn’t fit in the stocking.”
He grabbed a large package from under the tree. It was, of course, wrapped in red, white and blue.
“Thank you,” Steve said, but there was a little concern in his voice as he undid the ribbon and ripped the paper.
“Can I just say how much it helps me like you that you ripped the paper rather than delicately undoing the tape and folding it up all neat and tidy?” Tony said, smiling.
“I’ve always been a ripper,” Steve said, grinning back.
Steve opened the box and his jaw dropped.
“How did you find these?” he asked. “I thought they were gone forever.”
The box was filled with old sketchbooks and drawings, all of them signed Steven Rogers. Portraits of Bucky, Peggy, Howard, the Howling Commandos, even Steve’s mother were crammed inside.
“My dad held onto them just in case you ever turned up, and, hey, you did,” Tony said. “I only found them a couple weeks ago.”
“You drew all these?” Peter asked, looking over his shoulder at them. “You’re really good.”
“Yeah, you are,” Clint said. “Wow. That is… you’re really talented, Steve.”
Steve’s eyes welled up with tears, and he looked at Tony, not quite able to speak.
“You gave them back to me,” Steve managed finally.
“You’re welcome,” Tony said, and Bucky punched Tony appreciatively in the arm. “Uh, ow?”
“Sorry, overly enthusiastic. Hey, is the one of you as a monkey riding a unicycle in there?” Bucky asked, and Steve handed him one of the notebooks, then grabbed another package from under the tree.
“Peter, I wasn’t sure what you might want,” Steve said, “so I hope this is okay. I asked your Aunt May for some help.”
Peter looked curious as he undid the paper to find a framed, hand-drawn portrait of his parents smiling back at him.
“You did this?” he asked, his eyes welling up.
“I worked off of a few pictures May let me look at,” Steve said. “I hope it’s not too maudlin for a Christmas gift.”
“No, no, Captain,” Peter said, hugging the picture to him. “This is fantastic. I know exactly where I’m putting it in my bedroom. Thank you.”
“Honest to God, Nick, if you gave me something emotional in here, I am going to punch Steve,” Tony said, grabbing his stocking.
“Why me?” Steve asked.
“You’re closest, and if I hit Fury, he’ll find a way to kill me,” Tony said, pulling out keys. “Okay, so far so good, what are these to?”
“A 1955 Thunderbird,” Nick said.
“Wait, what?” Tony said, looking stunned.
“Now, don’t get too excited,” Nick said. “It’s parked down in the garage, and it’s more of a pile of parts than a car. Half the engine’s missing, it needs tires, the muffler’s gone, there’s no seats…”
“That’s even better!” Tony said, practically jumping up and down. “Thank you! Bruce, we totally have to have a mechanics playdate with this baby.”
“It is on like Donkey Kong!” Bruce, said, fist bumping him.
“I have no idea what is happening, but I am happy for you!” Thor said, nodding and smiling while finishing his fourth cup of hot chocolate. “You will notice there are other packages beneath the tree that are not yet opened.”
“Mother sent them,” Loki said.
“Frigga?” Tony said.
“Yes, frigging Frigga,” Loki said, over-enunciating each word. “We have very good hearing, you know.”
“No disrespect meant,” he said quickly.
“None taken, or you would be dead already,” Loki said as though he was discussing the weather. “Regardless, she sent a few things.”
Everyone came forward and took a package with their name from under the tree, all of them wrapped in remarkably lovely paper with hand-tied bows. Bruce opened his first.
“Creepy Crawlers?” he said, looking at he box in confusion. “I… wait.”
“I got Tenderheart!” Pepper said, pulling the Care Bear from its wrapping.
“A Louisville Slugger!” Steve said, grinning like a nine-year-old.
“My skateboard!” Clint yelled. “This is absolutely identical to the one I had as a kid!”
“How did your mother get Rock’em Sock’em Robots on Asgard?” Tony said, staring at the box.
Peter opened a note and read, “’Though I agree with your aunt that your dwelling is too small for a jungle gym, you will find one has been installed in the park across from your apartment building.’ That’s incredible!”
“Now, I get that y’all blabbed about your Christmas list from when you were kids, but how in the hell did she find out when I was twelve I wanted a basketball signed by Dr. J?” Nick asked, holding up a ball inscribed with the words “To Baby Nicky, from Julius Erving.”
“And I got a whole set of baseball cards from 1932,” Bucky said. “I never even met her!”
“Remember, she’s married to the equivalent of your Santa,” Thor said, laughing in a way that could only be described as jolly. “She has her ways.”
Loki, meanwhile, had taken Natasha aside and a little away from the group
“Mother thought that a doll might not be something that would bring you joy because of what you have suffered,” Loki said, putting a hand gently on her arm. “She thought that perhaps this would be a better choice.”
He handed her an envelope that looked similar to the one Peter had received. She opened it.
“’Dearest Natasha, please be aware that if you should ever find you are at a point in your life when you would like to begin a family, it would be my honor to aid you in adopting a child in need of a mother from any of the Nine Realms. My own dear Loki has been nothing but joy to me—well, mostly—and I would help you to share that same joy whenever you are ready,’” she read. “’Wishing you peace and joy, Frigga.’”
She stared at Loki.
“Happy Christmas?” he said, uncertainly.
“Your mom is… unbelievable,” she said.
“She is,” he agreed, squeezing her hand.
“Okay, I’m going to point out the obvious,” Tony said loudly enough to draw everyone’s attention. “Nobody got anything for Frigga.”
“That is not necessary,” Thor said. “She does not expect anything.”
“Yeah, but, come on,” Tony said.
“Wait, didn’t she say she liked that mincemeat pie?” Bruce said.
“She did,” Loki said.
“I’ve got three in the freezer,” Tony said, looking relieved. “Please, bring them with you when you zap back up to Asgard.”
“I am certain she will be delighted,” Thor said. “Really, though, I am afraid we must be going. Tony, I thank you for this wonderful feast and the entertainment. As Clarence inscribed in his gift to George, ‘no man is a failure who has friends,’ and tonight all of us are very rich indeed.”
There was a general murmur of assent as Loki and Thor turned towards the door to the roof.
“Oh, don’t forget your hammer, Mr. Thor,” Peter said, handing him Mjolnir.
Everyone’s mouth dropped open.
“We are not discussing this now,” Tony said. “Not one single solitary word, got me?”
Thor nodded and pulled a still gaping Loki through the door as a completely oblivious Peter went back to looking at Steve’s portrait of his parents, smiling.
It really was a wonderful life.
