Dear Santa, she began in her very best handwriting.

I don't really want anything for Christmas; this's the first one without Mom. I just want her to be happy up in Heaven, and so she'll always know I love her and me and Tony miss her. I also want Daddy to give me a big Christmas hug when he comes home from the office…if he comes home.

Love, Andy Stark

She looked out of her window, kicking her feet excitedly as the snow came down on their Long Island mansion before setting aside her crayon and folding the letter over twice to stuff into an envelope. Once that task was accomplished, Andy scooted off her chair, jumping over the piles of records to get out of her room, then down the hall to her big brother's room.

"Tony! You promised you'd help me address Santa's letter!" Andy demanded as she pounded on the door, and it eventually popped open wide enough for two large, dark eyes to peer out at her. Tony had turned eleven over the summer, Andy six in October, but it still hadn't erased the ache of losing their mother. Andy scurried inside as quickly as she could, waving her envelope triumphantly.

"So, you think you're gonna get what you want, And-ster?" Tony asked as he led her over to his two desks and sat down. Andy scrabbled onto a stool so as to offer Tony the letter before shrugging.

"Maybe."

"You know you can tell me, right?"

"…hope Mom's happy. And I want Dad to hug me."

Tony didn't reply to that, pausing a little from writing the address so as to open one of his arms. Andy gladly assaulted him in a hug, and she held on even as he wrote down Santa's address at the North Pole and put her name and their address in the top corner. Andy insisted she lick it and leave it in the mailbox outside, but Tony insisted he come with her. He made sure she was bundled up warm, and Andy did the same for him before they set out, down the long drive to the main road and the mailbox.

"Want me to open it for ya?" Tony offered, but Andy stubbornly pulled the latch open and put the letter inside before sticking the red flag up so the postman could take it.

"Is he gonna get it in time?" Andy asked as they trooped back up to the house. The snow was still coming down. Andy looked around before Tony answered, wondering if they could have a snowball fight, or make a snowman, like all the normal kids would be.

"Bet the post office is going to send it extra-fast, just to be sure he gets it before Christmas Eve," Tony assured her.

"But Christmas Eve is tomorrow."

"They'll put it on its very own plane."

It got Andy to giggle, and Tony rubbed at her hooded head. Andy still stepped off from the walk, into the deep snow and finding a good spot. Tony called after her, trying to get her to come back, but Andy stubbornly stayed out as she settled in one place and spread out her arms. The falling-back part was easy, even with her eyes shut, and she beamed as she gently started moving her arms and legs like she'd seen on TV. After ten passes, she got up very carefully, and after happily surveying her snow angel, she looked around to look for Tony.

He was nowhere to be seen.

"…Tony?" she called out worriedly through the falling snow, making sure to find her footsteps so she could get back to the sidewalk. Tony was still missing. Andy shook fearfully as she headed, not back to the house, but towards the mailbox. She didn't know why, but she hurried, doing her best not to slip and fall, and stopped when she saw a figure pulling open the mailbox and pulling out her letter. There was no mail truck nearby.

Tony was taking her letter. Why?

Andy didn't even wait to find out. She turned and ran back to the house, up to her room, and slammed the door behind her. She didn't want to think about what it meant, but….

There's no Santa.

She cried that night, and even though Christmas was wonderful, Andy didn't enjoy it. She wanted Mom to be there, but she wasn't. Mom was dead.

And she didn't get her hug from her father. There was no Santa.

"Okay, Mina, run this by me again," Andy Stark sighed as she propped her elbows on one of her desks. "Tony and Pepper are going to the office Christmas party, fine, whatever. I'm not going. There anything else I need to know in preparation?"

It was her first Christmas in Malibu, and Andy was making sure that nothing unscheduled would interrupt her Christmas Eve. For the past few years, Andy had always spent her Christmas alone, receiving and giving no presents, and spending it hacking some government or other. This year, she planned on attacking Russia, just for the heck of it. Usually, it got some very interesting headlines popping up a few pages back from the front page of the newspaper.

"No, nothing that seems too pressing," Mina - Mental Imaging Network Artificial, Andy's personal AI - reported. "Even though it looks as if Tony's blocked off everything company-related from Christmas Day through the new year. Is he still trying to make up for his birthday party? Because, if that's the case, he had better find me something…"

"We'll see," Andy sighed. Ever since December 23, when she was six years old, Andy had refused to take presents, all because she had caught Tony thieving her letter to Santa and triggering her shattering discovery that Santa wasn't real. Now she was thirty-something, and she mostly wanted nothing to do with Christmas.

That was before all the storms had rolled in. Thankfully, the house didn't flood, but power was knocked out and traveling on the PCH was impossible thanks to mudslides that completely blocked the major route into LA. Christmas Day, therefore, dawned cold, gray, and wet, much to Andy's displeasure.

"I was going to jump Russia today!" Andy complained as she stared out the living room window to survey the dark skies. Tony was sprawled out nearby, staring boredly up at the ceiling. "So what do I do? There's no power to do anything fun."

"Well, there's always just…you'n me," Tony suggested lamely, and Andy turned to try and glare at him…only to start when she found a brightly-wrapped box resting on his stomach, just under the arc-reactor. She eyed him warily before he sighed and sat up, carrying the package over to her.

"Look, I know I've been an idiot, and not just recently. So, c'mon, lemme make it up to you," he pleaded, offering his present. Andy just offered him a look.

"Tony, you haven't given me presents since I was six."

"Yeah, well, consider it a new family tradition, now are you gonna open it or what?"

Andy sighed and looked at the silver-wrapped, gold-ribboned box in her elder brother's hands before glancing at him again. He managed a small smile, and the strange sincerity behind it was the only motivation Andy needed to slowly take the box. Tony grinned at her before taking her by the shoulders and setting her down on the couch.

She fingered the box, slowly and uncomfortably, before slowly untying the ribbon and starting to methodically pull free the paper.

"That is not how you used to open Christmas presents," Tony informed her briskly, but Andy silenced him with a look. A cardboard box was soon revealed, and Andy slowly worked it open and reached inside to pull out a digital picture frame.

"Um…why do I need this?" Andy questioned, but Tony sighed in exasperation before taking it from her, flicking it on, and passing it back as the screen came to life. Andy blinked when she saw a familiar, slender face with Tony's bright, dark eyes and a kind smile as she embraced a little boy and an even littler girl.

"…Mom?" Andy murmured as the picture changed, still depicting the three of them together, for Christmas, her and Tony's birthdays, Fourth of July… all of the good times before she died. The only pictures of them older was Tony's MIT graduation picture, and, a complete surprise, a security shot of when they'd embraced when she'd moved in to the Malibu mansion.

"I know it's my fault I got you not believin' in Santa anymore," Tony sighed. "And the stuff you wanted was somethin' I couldn't even give you.. But, I figure….maybe I try settin' it right."

"For once?" Andy asked with a weak smirk, but Tony gently pulled her close, embracing her tightly. She rested her head against his shoulder, and Andy had to smile in relief when he kissed the top of her head and squeezed her gently.

Maybe there wasn't a Santa, but she'd always have Tony.