"You guys know I could have a tree delivered to the tower in like, three minutes?"
Tony's suggestion was met with five identical glares, even from Bruce, which felt sort of like a betrayal.

Steve huffed, his breath appearing in the air for less than a second before evaporating.

"No. Put your phone away, Stark."

Tony did so, and not least because Natasha was reaching for one of her throwing knives.

He tucked the device into his jeans, and Bruce nudged him, and tilted his head towards Thor, who was examining a tree with something alike to confusion.

"It's his first Christmas on Earth. And most of us haven't had many Christmases."

Clint whooped from his perch in a somewhat tall tree, pelted a pinecone at Tony, and appeared in a completely different tree a few seconds later.

Steve offered a hand to Natasha.

Tony watched curiously as the assassin smiled. It was creepy, actually. Without a word, she leaped forward, and with an additional thrust from Steve's hands, made it into the top of a tree. The Christmas tree farm owner looked like he was about to have an aneurysm, but Natasha looked surprisingly smug from her needly throne.

Tony sighed and slipped the owner another twenty, something that had become common practice since he had started letting himself associate with the absolute nerds that were the Avengers.

The manager looked less stressed, and retreated to his office, probably to cackle about the money he had just wheedled out of Tony Stark or Instagram Thor's ugly Christmas sweater or something.

Natasha looked thoughtful.

"This one won't do."

She told the group of the ground solemnly, and vaulted from the tree just in time for Clint to catch her.

All the others nodded seriously, then began examining the various other trees.

Thor grinned broadly.

"I do recall ceremonies like this during my youth. We had many festivities during the time of Yule!"

Thor looked puppishly happy, the hypnotic patterns of reindeer jumping on the annoying red and green sweater he was wearing with his cape serving to make Tony guiltier.

Tony sighed, looked for a long time at Clint's obnoxious snowman hat (the things were bouncing around, staring at him with dead eyes), and Natasha's (very serious) jingle bell socks.

He sighed, one more time for good measure.

"How, exactly, do you determine a good Christmas tree?"

"I want that one."
Steve breathed, craning his neck to look up and up at the thing.

"Steve no."
Tony said.

Everyone glared at Tony, completely ignoring the fact that the thing was bigger than their entire living room. Tony folded his arms.

"No."

"Tooooon-"

Clint got halfway through his whine before Steve stopped him with a hand.

"It's okay, Clint. I guess I just got excited. Me and Buck could never really afford a Christmas tree in those days, and they didn't get imported to New York like they do now. It's all right."
Before Tony could begin to wonder if they were trying to guilt trip him, Steve's blue eyes widened almost impossibly largely, and Natasha even somehow made herself look disapproving at Tony without looking at him.

"Okay, okay, move it to the right. No, pivot- PIVOT!"

"Sir?"
If JARVIS could sound tentative, he would be doing so now.

"May I ask why you are trying to fit a tree into the living room that is far, far too large?"

"Shut up, JARVIS. And get me my suit."

Tony heard a few crashes outside.

"And make sure all air traffic is diverted from around here for a couple hours."

"No one flies by here either way, Sir."

JARVIS reported.

"I believe it has to do with the incident with the fire."

"PIVOT!"

Someone yelled outside.