Christmas Sparkle
Bucky Barnes didn't want to be an elf.
He was nearly one hundred years old. He'd fought in a war. He'd killed people - some who deserved it, some who didn't.
He didn't have the temperament to be an elf.
Yet, here he was, up on the roof of the cabin Sharon's parents owned, the very one where he'd experienced his very own reawakening, hanging miles of Christmas lights because his best friend asked him to.
The things he did for that punk.
His fellow elf, Sam Wilson, was inside the cabin decorating the tree.
Bucky smiled to himself, remembering the priceless look on Sam's face when they'd gone out into the woods surrounding the cabin to get the tree. Sam had debated the merits of height, fullness and symmetry of more than a dozen trees before he finally decided on the perfect one. As his friend readied the axe to cut down said tree, Bucky just grabbed it and pulled - freeing it from the ground, roots and all, and began dragging it toward the cabin.
You'd think Sam would have been used to the way Bucky did things by now but, unfortunately, he'd still sputtered and protested in surprise as he trailed behind.
By the time they cleaned off the roots and cut the trunk down to size, Bucky had enough left over to drill a couple of holes into a length of pine and made a Yule log - which Sam then placed on the fireplace mantel among the evergreen garland he'd made from trimmed branches.
After his little stunt with the tree, though, Bucky had been relegated to outside decorations, which was fine with him. He'd already strung lights from the roof and around the front porch and putting the finishing touches on a trio of trees next to the cabin when Sam came out.
"Steve called," Sam announced. "They're about an hour out and he expects us to be gone by the time he and Sharon get here."
Bucky nodded, looping the final strand of lights around the last tree.
"You want to do the honors?" he asked.
Sam hesitated, not entirely trusting Bucky's offer to let him turn on the lights.
He said as much and Bucky pointed out, "You're standing on the cords."
Sam looked down and, indeed, did have one of the thick extension cords under his boot.
He picked up the ends of cable, connecting them, and swore he heard a Clark Griswald-worthy "whoosh" and rendition of the "Hallelujah" chorus as the fading afternoon erupted in colorful lights.
"Looks good, man," Sam said appreciatively. "Looks real good."
After two beats of admiring Bucky's handiwork, Sam said, "Okay, we've still got things to do inside before we make ourselves scarce for Steve's special evening with Sharon."
Bucky followed Sam inside, noting that the former Air Force pararescueman had done an equally fine job - not that he was going to tell him that, of course. Sam had decorated the tree in more colorful lights and strung garland and on the mantel and around the handrail leading upstairs. With the lights, falling snow, roaring fire, flickering red candles and warm scent of cinnamon, they'd created a cozy Christmas Eve Bucky knew Sharon would love.
It was just too bad he and Sam wouldn't be around to see her reaction.
They took care of the remaining tasks on Steve's list and had just pulled out of the long drive and onto the highway when Steve texted, "If you're not gone, go."
A content Sharon leaned back into the seat of Steve's truck, watching the blanketed white world go by as he drove through the scenic mountain towns that led to her parents' cabin.
She'd been surprised when Steve suggested they drive up a day early and spend Christmas Eve alone rather than carpooling with Sam and Bucky and meeting her parents the next morning.
Sharon was happy with the change in plans, looking forward to a quiet night with her boyfriend. They'd had too few of them in recent months, occupied with tracking down her cousin's division of Hydra, dealing with the other branches of the evil organization bent on world domination, and answering calls for help around the globe as their little band's reputation spread.
She'd already been anticipating the two-day holiday break she'd insisted they needed and only hoped that Hydra would cooperate and also take a break for Christmas.
"You're thinking too much over there," Steve chastised. "I can tell."
"Just thinking about how much we need this break, how happy I am to get tonight with just you." Sharon smiled at him and took the hand he offered briefly before he returned it to the steering wheel. "I'm really glad you suggested we go up early."
Steve smiled, looking forward to the evening as well. It had been difficult keeping secrets from Sharon but, with the help of Bucky, Sam and even her parents, he hoped that tonight would be a special one for them and worth the vague half-truths and lies of omission he'd perpetuated.
As he turned down the drive, he could see the glow of light through the trees and asked Sharon to hand him a water from the cooler behind them so as not to spoil the surprise as they wound down the long driveway.
By the time she turned back around, he had just made the final turn and he smiled widely at her delighted gasp.
"It's beautiful," she said. "When did you...How?"
"Santa lent me a couple of elves," Steve said as he parked the truck.
"They do good work," she said, her eyes still on the bright colors that glowed in the falling snow.
Steve walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. "Merry Christmas, Sharon."
"Merry Christmas, Steve." She leaned forward and gave him an appreciative kiss, her hands cupping his face. When she pulled away, she laughed at the snowflakes that had gathered in his hair. "I guess we should wait and do this inside."
Steve grabbed their luggage in one hand and held hers as they walked up the porch. Safe from accumulating more snowflakes, he set the bags down and gathered her in his arms, dipping her dramatically for another kiss.
Sharon swayed slightly when he set her back on her feet, having been kissed thoroughly by her very romantic boyfriend. She looked around the porch, smiling still over the lights, as he unlocked the door.
"After you," he said with dramatic flair and Sharon stepped in - and immediately made further cries of surprised delight.
There were more lights inside and the hearth in the living room had a low fire burning next to a glowing Christmas tree. The candles on the mantel flickered with warm scents, cinnamon mingling with the pine from the garland and tree.
She turned to Steve, her eyes wide in pleasure.
"You did all of this for me?" she asked.
"I had help," he reminded her, stowing their bags on the stairs and leading her toward the kitchen, where the smell of rosemary and sage greeted the senses.
"Your elves cooked, too?" she asked.
"Your dad did most of it, actually," Steve said. "He and your mom made up everything so all Bucky and Sam had to do was put it in the oven."
"My parents knew what you were up to?" Sharon asked, having just talked to her mother the day before about the unexpected change in plans. Apparently, Angela Carter lied just as smoothly as her spy daughter.
"I still can't believe you did all of this," she said, moving to the stove where an old metal kettle sat on low heat. She took an appreciative sniff. "Hot chocolate. Your elves thought of everything."
Steve grabbed two mugs and set them on the counter next to the stove and drew Sharon in for another long kiss.
After dinner, Sharon and Steve sat in the living room with cookies and more mugs of hot chocolate, her legs draped over his, as they enjoyed the cozy glow of the fireplace and tree.
"Dinner was amazing," Sharon said. "This whole evening has been amazing." She looked at Steve. "You're amazing."
"I'm glad you think so," Steve said, setting his mug down. He took her mug and set it down next to his and slid her legs off of his so that he could get off the couch.
She watched as he moved to the hearth, put another log on the fire, and then bent down in front of the tree.
When he turned, Sharon saw that he'd picked up one of the wrapped gifts they'd brought with them.
Steve sat down again, facing Sharon, and handed her the box, it's shiny paper catching the flicking light of the candles behind her.
"I know it's early but I want you to open this one now."
She looked at him, her eyebrow quirking, and then tore into the paper after only a moment's hesitation.
As she lifted the lid of the box, she felt a hitch in her throat at the smaller, velvet covered box inside.
"Oh my god..." she breathed, looking up at him.
"Open it," he said softly.
Her fingers shook as she discarded the first box and held the small black jeweler's box in her hands.
She looked at him again and, at his slight nod, opened the case.
"Oh my god..." she repeated as the diamond and sapphire ring winked up at her in the holiday lights.
Steve's hands enveloped Sharon's as hers continued to shake. He plucked the ring from its bed, his eyes on hers, as he slipped the ring slowly onto her left hand. She stared down at the ring, the lights playing off its many facets.
"Sharon," Steve said, "Will you..."
"Yes!" she practically shouted, unable to wait for him to finish as she threw her arms around him, knocking him backward onto the couch. She rained kisses on him - his cheeks, his chin, his jaw and, finally, his lips. Suddenly, she pulled back, her eyes wide in horror.
"Oh my god, you were asking me to marry you, right? I mean, this is a beautiful ring but if I jumped to the wrong -"
Steve laughed, months of planning and hours of nerves taking their toll. "Of course I want to marry you. Why else would a guy give you a ring like that?"
Sharon smiled cheekily. "To get in my pants?" she suggested.
"Like I need a ring for that," he said, kissing her again. "You're already my partner in every aspect, Sharon. I want you to be my partner in life."
Sharon couldn't help the tears that welled in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around Steve again, giving her ring a final look as she met his lips with hers.
"Merry Christmas, Steve."
"Merry Christmas, Sharon."