3"Love is when words don't even come close to what your heart really feels." -Unknown
Tony really should have known that planning on a better Christmas than last year was setting the bar too high. Sure, this year held a fairly significant probability that the Mandarin wouldn't swoop in and destroy his newly rebuilt Malibu home or touch the tower, which was a definite plus. However, he rather unfortunately forgot to factor in all the other ways in which the holiday could go terribly wrong. For example, he didn't get the memo to plan for the whack job that came out of the woodwork on December eleventh, successfully leading the Avengers all over New York City in a spectacular wild goose chase. They got the guy and his weirdo army of justice, most of which ended up being really freakishly buff, homeless teenagers, but not without some bumps and bruises on their side. Clint had a severe concussion, Cap had severely distended back muscles, and Tony was sporting a lovely partial shoulder dislocation. It was a very good thing Pepper wasn't currently in New York at the time, because both of them were still skirting their luck from last Christmas and really didn't need any added stress. He was eternally grateful for busy schedules and brief conversations.
So that was how he and the rest of the merry troop ended up sprawled in the main tower media room, lethargically staring at the floor to ceiling media screen as Cap flipped through a menagerie of crappy made-for-TV Christmas movies. Clint was under explicit orders to not overexert himself and exacerbate his post-concussion syndrome while Cap was wrapped in a back brace and told that under no circumstances was he allowed to take it off for forty-eight hours unless he wanted his back muscles to heal in a tangled mess. Tony, not to be outdone, had his left arm pinned to his chest by some surprisingly strong sling bandages and was similarly threatened to not even think about using the joint until further notice. Pepper was due back the day after next and Tony was back to wracking his brain for Christmas ideas, drowning out Clint's running commentary to Thor about the sappy dialogue humming in the background.
He had promised Pepper that this Christmas would be nothing like last Christmas. The small problem remained that the moment he had said it, he had no idea how to make that idea a reality. The Mandarin was, obviously, the number one glaring fault from last Christmas. Seeing as Trevor was currently behind bars and Killian was missing (presumed dead), he counted that towards his "different from last year" quota. The giant rabbit was definitely out as Pepper requested, rather emphatically, he not order a replacement of the one currently at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. That left the decorating and the food. Last year he had hired an interior decorator and chefs for their Christmas dinner-that-never-happened. Pepper had not so subtly mentioned while they were fishing one of the trees out of the ocean how much she had loved the simple, homemade Christmases she used to have when she was younger. Which, you know, was great except Tony had no idea what simple or homemade meant in regards to anything, much less Christmas. So back to square one.
He was kindly interrupted from his brainstorming when a large, slightly wet marshmallow found its way onto his nose. Tony gave a gusty sigh as he narrowed his eyes at the only possible suspect, meeting the proud gaze of one Clinton Francis Barton. Barton had apparently decided Tony's hair was incomplete without projectile marshmallows in it, pre-licked for maximum stickiness if his sense of touch was any indication. What Barton hadn't considered, and what was quickly becoming an annoying, nagging worry for Tony, was the fact that his continued antics just proved Clint's aim was still off, even after almost twenty-seven hours of rest. Having teammates to pretend indifference towards was absolutely exhausting. Tony frowned as he plucked the sticky object from his nose, glaring at a semi-dazed looking version of gleeful evil emanating from Clint's face. Clint's hair was being absently petted by Natasha's free hand, snuggled all contentedly in her lap, while she read a battered paperback.
"You look like an evil overlord's ugly cat," Tony declared. Clint stuck out his tongue.
"Boy, you must have been really lost in thought if you let Clint decorate your hair with marshmallows," Bruce commented, as he rounded the back of the couch and offered the popcorn he had retrieved from the kitchen down the hall. Tony took the warm bowl one handed, settling a cool look on Bruce's face. Bruce casually plucked a tiny marshmallow off of the crown of Tony's head and studied it thoughtfully before popping it into his mouth.
Clint scrambled up from Natasha's lap, a look of horror on his face, before stilling and clutching a hand to his temple in exasperation.
"Bruce, I licked that!" Clint managed after a moment, eyes closed against the admonitions of his head. Bruce smiled mildly as he chewed. Bless that man and his passive-aggressive awesomeness.
"And it had my hair cooties on it," Tony added cheerfully. "Do you know how much bacteria is in hair? When I was fourteen, Rhodey once dared me to try and culture bacteria from a bit of my hair and you wouldn't believe-"
"Manners," Steve cut him off with a very strong look that promised the sappiest chick flick Christmas movie Steve and Jarvis could manage to find. Tony shut his mouth, casting a baleful look at Steve.
Bruce continued to chew thoughtfully. "I do taste a dash of some type of hair product," he decided. Clint groaned and looked up at the ceiling, plain defeat decorating his face.
"Hey, scootch," Bruce nudged Tony's leg until he relinquished space for Bruce's tiny form beside him on the couch. "So what's on your mind? You looked like Pepper found some of your science put in the microwave for food."
Tony wrinkled his nose at that memory and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Well Pep wants a simple, homemade Christmas; you know, something different from last year. I thought I did well last year, but I do suspect that the terrorist with the Baptist accent did put a damper on things."
Silence blanketed the room as a variety of guilty and self-loathing looks were passed among his teammates.
"Oh come on now, I completely forgive you guys! You all just owe me large favors now, which will probably be more helpful in the long run anyways. Oh!" He paused dramatically. "I know the best way for you all to make it up to me for the whole leaving me out on a limb last Christmas. You can help me decorate for Pep to top last Christmas!" Tony added gleefully. That had the desired affect as the guilty looks morphed into varying looks of suspicion.
Which was how they ended up in the main living area three hours later with a ten foot tall tree, courtesy of Tony's money and Thor's muscles, and boxes upon boxes of old ornaments courtesy of Clint and Natasha. Both were very tight lipped about the whole thing, but some of Tony's suspicions were confirmed when Steve opened one of the boxes and pulled out a ratty looking angel ornament, cradling it to his chest like a long lost memory. Tony met Clint's eyes and Clint shrugged, casually unpacking a box of ornaments that looked like they came from bits of broken weapons, methodically laying them out in the creepiest manner possible.
It turns out that Clint and Natasha raided some S.H.I.E.L.D. vault or something, because along with Steve's precious handmade Christmas ornaments salvaged from the 1920s, there were boxes of ornaments from almost every country, if the craftsmanship was any indication. Some even looked suspiciously like little replicas of their resident Avengers, handcrafted by someone with the initials 'AC'. Yeah, really subtle.
Bruce gave Tony a pinched look that sent chills down his spine when he tried to wiggle out of his protective shoulder sling in an attempt to help decorate the tree. So in retaliation, an assembly line was formed with Tony, of course, at the helm. Steve took it upon himself to be a rebel and took off his back harness, claiming that he was "a super soldier, by golly, and as a result, tended to heal fairly fast". Clint gleefully scaled the tree like some drunk primate, impressively scaling even the most fragile limbs with a grace born from years of circus living, pointedly ignoring Bruce's 'tuts' and sighs. Natasha floated around the tree, popcorn garland floating in her wake as she fed the strands to Barton halfway up the tree. Thor was currently fiddling with the tiny strand of lights Bruce had liberated from one of the boxes. He attempted to untangle the mess in silence, concentrating intensely on the task he had been delegated as if it was one of life or death. Tony's offer to purchase new lights was, predictably, ignored.
Tony was assigned to the lower limbs of the tree and the tree skirt. In keeping with Pepper's wish of a homemade Christmas, he was currently putting the finishing touches on the miniature city he had cobbled together from spare machine parts from his workshop. He currently had a small metal amusement park, complete with a ferris wheel and mini roller coaster. The miniature park next to it had an ice skating rink and sparkling trees made from gossamer spun metal. He had a main street store front as well, sporting tiny window displays and twinkling lights everywhere. He was currently finishing the train track around the entire thing where a small, functional steam train wove lazily around the metal families inhabiting the town.
Steve had noticed his ministrations fairly early on and the both of them began to work in tandem, Tony making and Steve bringing everything to life. The tiny ice skaters now wore fragile outfits of rainbow hues. Shoppers were swathed in heavy coats and tiny scarves, clutching beautifully decorated shopping bags. The trees winked with more shades of green Tony even knew existed and the steam engine shone like something out of a children's book. Tony had to resist the urge to completely ruin his Tony Stark image and hug Steve for this beautiful collaboration.
This was the best thing about inventing, he thought. The fact that all your aches and pains were pushed into the background and your mind could soar to such unimaginable heights. It was just like Pepper to make something that she wanted from him turn into something that completed him. Steve's contented smile as he stitched and applied brush strokes was the most relaxed he had ever seen the soldier. Clint's excited clambering to snatch a proffered mug of hot chocolate from Bruce and Thor's proud exclamations as he held up the untangled string of lights had Tony fighting a smile. Earth's mightiest warriors caught in a domestic setting was almost too much.
Any lingering bitterness against his team from the Mandarin debacle had evaporated steadily throughout the course of the evening. When he caught Natasha standing in open awe at the tree while Thor and Clint put the finishing touches on the lights, he knew with a great amount of certainty that he couldn't begrudge his team for the abandonment. Their myriad of excuses, all frustratingly valid, had irritated him, more for Pepper's sake than his own. Pepper should not have been pulled into his world of peril. Clint should have been doing his super sneaky spy skills and Natasha should have been pulling Pepper off for a day of shopping or something. Heck, Cap should have been taking her for a tour of Central Park, far, far away from Malibu. But that didn't happen. Tony knew he was as responsible as any one of his teammates, probably more since taunting a terrorist probably counts for more points. Part of healing was forgiving or whatever. In for a penny, in for a pound and all those profound things.
When Pepper arrived the next day, he and the team hurriedly ushered her to the top floor of the tower, the rest of them dispersing silently as Pepper took in the room. She spent the better part of an hour in speechless wonder as she absorbed all the intricacies and details of the decorations. Tony was secretly proud that the majority of that time was spent watching the precise movements of his tiny village. When Pepper turned and looked at Tony with a look of pure and unadulterated joy, he knew he had hit his mark. When she threw her arms around him and giggled like a little girl at Christmas, his heart glowed with joy. They didn't exchange any words and Tony marveled that their love had developed to be deeper and more complex than mere speech. And if, after a traditional evening meal by candlelight, the two of them happened to end up on a futon in front of the display, snuggled in warm blankets and love, that was just a huge bonus.
A/N: This is for my lovely beta, Rosie. Merry Christmas! You are one of my favorite people.
I tried my best to keep everyone in character, but it was difficult without my lovely beta to bounce ideas off of! If you are so obliged, drop a line! Merry Christmas to all!