New at Christmas
The plane touched down around 5:00 pm. The clouds around Reagan National airport were heavy. The flight attendant mentioned snow was expected and then wished the entire plane a very Happy Holiday. The plane quickly emptied to excited voices, greetings to many of a happy holiday and the rustle of packages. Steve and Natasha had stayed in their seats letting the families deplane. Somehow the holiday had not occurred to either of them. They had been focused on the mission. Both were tired and sore. Natasha glanced over at Steve. "I didn't realize it was Christmas Eve. How does someone just miss it?" She shook her hair loose of the band that had held it back and ran her hands through it to untangle it.
"I think missing it isn't a bad idea." He stood and retrieved their duffle bags from the luggage bin over head. He lifted them as if they were full of cotton and Natasha smiled knowing each one weighed nearly as much as she did. He gracefully maneuvered both bags and waited for her to walk in the aisle ahead of him. Ever the gentleman.
They walked down the crowded airport side by side. Families embracing, shouts of "Merry Christmas!" Warm, lingering hugs of loved ones reunited. It was the single most depressing thing Natasha had seen.
They hailed a cab and slumped into the back seat together. He folded his long legs somewhere between the seats trying to find a comfortable spot and she laid her head back and closed her eyes. "So what do you have planned tonight?" She didn't look up as she spoke the words.
He glanced at her. She really was a very pretty lady. He could never deny that. They had done several missions together in the past five months and had begun to trust each other and really work as a team. He admired her spunk and tenacity. She was smart, fast and determined. He realized he really did admire her. He had to smile at that. He had a very different opinion of her when they first were teamed up together.
"Hot shower, warm bed and hopefully sleep through until the 26th." He smiled wryly.
"Yup, this one is a tough one. I really hate Christmas! Nauseatingly family oriented. Too much cheer, expectation and drama." She finally looked up.
She looked sad and for some reason that really bothered Steve.
He slapped the seat next to her, "Ok. Lets not hate it this year."
She smiled. He actually looked excited.
"Ummm, ok. We can skip and hold hands and say. "we don't hate Christmas." She laughed sarcastically and slapped his hand on the seat.
"No, I'm serious. Your alone, I'm alone. We are dreading this holiday. Lets try to not dread it together". It was the most un-Steve like thing he had ever said.
"You can drop us off here." Steve handed the cabby a couple of crumpled twenties from his jacket pocket.
Steve tossed the bags on the cold cement as snowflakes began to drift down on them. The streetlights came on and darkness was settling in.
She had to laugh, "Umm, ok Tiny Tim, what's your plan?"
He looked down the block and spotted a Christmas tree lot. He took off walking, hoisting both bags on his shoulders. "When was the last time you decorated a tree?"
She had to nearly jog to keep up with his long leg stride
"Um, very easy answer, never." She tried to keep any emotion out of her voice. It was a fact. Leave it at that, she thought.
He stopped, turned around and looked at her incredulously. "Serious? Never?"
She kept walking and answered back, "Never."
He quickened his pace to close the distance between them. The lot was closing and the tree selection was very small. Trees with unsightly branches clumped together creating a huge crater in their sides or small scraggly ones that looked as if one breeze would send every last needle plummeting to the ground. "Hmmm" He walked about the sparse lot with a critical eye. Finally he spotted a huge tree that seemed perfect on top but extremely battered in the middle. "This one."
"Oh you have got to be kidding. It looks like a grenade went through it." She quickly starting looking at others. The selection was very slim.
A young man with a stocking cap pulled nearly over his eyes approached. "We are closed." He looked tired and very unhelpful.
"We will take the top of this one." Steve motioned to the large battered tree.
"The top? We are closed." The kid looked confused and a bit disgusted.
Steve began pulling cash from his jacket. And thrust a few bills into the kid's hand, "Just the top three feet."
"You will have to pay for the whole tree." He looked bored and irritated.
"Ok. Got a saw?" The kid grabbed a handsaw and Steve quickly took the top of the tree. "Thanks." He held both bags with one hand and grabbed the tree in the other. Smiling he turned to Natasha. "You're flat or mine?"
She actually felt happy. Something she had not felt in a while. Weird. This was fun. When was the last time she had fun? "Yours is closer" and then she mumbled, "and cleaner".
They walked several blocks and finally reached his building and walked the three flights of stairs to his flat. She unlocked the door and held it open for him. He dropped the bags on the floor and set the tree by the window. It looked quite small but charming. Natasha smiled. Her first Christmas tree!
"My fridge is empty. Sorry. There is a market around the block. If we hurry we can get there before it closes."
Twenty minutes later, they carried several bags loaded down with groceries and one string of twinkle lights. They only strand left on the shelf.
Natasha grabbed the box of lights excitedly and began weaving them through the branches. "So now what do we put on it?" She stood back surveying her light job, smiling.
Steve couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I have no idea. As a kid, mom and I strung popcorn and made decorations out of paper but I have no skills when it comes to that." He felt suddenly very melancholy thinking of his mother so many years ago. Trying to make a holiday special for her only child when they had so very little.
Natasha looked at up at him when he had fell silent. She could see him lost in the past. "Well, we will figure something out. I'm starving! Think I will take a quick shower first if you don't mind and wash some of Riyadh off of me."
"Towels are in the bathroom." Steve walked back to the kitchen and started heating some soup and making toasted cheese sandwiches.
Natasha came out of the bathroom, dressed in an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt of Steve's she had found in a cupboard. The room was lit with the small tree lights and a fire in the fireplace. Steve was sitting on the floor next to the fire with sandwiches and soup on the coffee table in front of him. "Oh that smells so good. When was the last time we ate?"
Steve smiled and pushed the food towards her. "I'm not even sure what time zone. Somewhere over the ocean, I think." He glanced at his t-shirt and lifted an eyebrow.
"Yeah, everything I had was dirty. Hope you don't mind." She bit into the sandwich, "umm, good." She managed with her mouth full. "So how do people celebrate this holiday anyway?" She sat with her legs crossed, sipping the hot soup.
"Well, 70 or so years ago," he said with a wry smile, "it was just mom and I. We didn't have much so it was pretty quiet. Mom decorated a bit with what we had. She saved up so we had a decent dinner on Christmas day and made sure I had a gift to open, usually socks." He smiled at the memory. "How about you? How did you celebrate Christmas?" He handed her another sandwich.
"Didn't." She looked into the fire, the sadness in her eyes was clear.
"Really? Nothing?" He hated to probe but was curious about the past of this woman who had become a crucial partner to him.
"I was left with Ivan when I was 4. I don't remember much prior to that, images really. A woman with red hair and a sad face. My mother I guess. Ivan was good to me, for a man who had no real connection to me. He was decent. Not fatherly by any means, but not brutal. He was deep into the KGB and I am sure he thought he was giving me the best future he knew when he had me begin training at a very young age. He didn't believe in any being higher than Mother Russia so a holiday steeped in religion was not important to him. I first heard of Christmas when I was 17 if you can believe that. It was a movie, "The Christmas story". She smiled sadly and pulled the blanket off the chair to put around her. "To me it was just a fantastical story. Pathetic isn't it?" Her face turned hard and the frown deepened.
"I could be mistaken, but I think Christmas is suppose to be a cheerful time." He nudged her and stood to put an old vinyl record on the record player in the corner. Bing Crosby crooning to "It's the most wonderful time of the year" soon filled the quiet in the room.
"What do you want to do tomorrow? It has got to be fun. We have to make this Christmas one to remember." He sat down beside her smiling. She had to smile in return. She was used to seeing Captain Rogers in work mode. The ever ready commander, leader and tactical expert. This was a whole new side to him and she liked it. His smile was disarming and she found his warmth very comforting.
"Well, not sure what traditional Christmas food is, but I make a pretty good Borscht."
"I bet you do. Okay, Borsht it is." He took his beer and clinked it against hers. He looked out the window and jumped up offering her his hand, "It's snowing."
They stepped out onto the balcony, watching the snow come down, blanketing DC in a world of glimmering white. It was beautiful and quiet. The lights of the city took on a different glow in the reflection of the snow. Natasha smiled and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders against the cold.
Natasha woke up slowly, slightly disoriented. She had slept better than she could ever remember. The room looked unfamiliar, as did the bed, slowly she remembered the firm standing of her super hero host, she was to take his bed for the night and he promised to sleep on the couch with the argument of wanting to enjoy the Christmas tree lights. She smiled at his nonsensical argument and enjoyed the warmth of the blankets and the luxury of a good nights sleep. The smell of fresh coffee and bacon were the only enticements to leave her comfort. She splashed some cold water on her face and raked her hands through her ginger hair before joining Steve.
She could see him in the kitchen, humming softly as he turned the bacon and pushed the bread down into the toaster, he turned when he heard her footsteps. "Merry Christmas!" He smiled warmly and handed her a mug of hot coffee.
She welcomed the mug and walked to the window. "Wow, it must have snowed all night." The ground was blanketed by beautiful glistening snow.
"Hungry?" He filled two plates and brought them into the living room, setting them on the coffee table in front of the fire.
"I hope that tastes as good as it smells Rogers." She grinned at him and sat down on the sofa.
After enjoying breakfast and small talk. He motioned to the gift wrapped in newspaper and tied with a string under the Christmas tree. "Looks like a gift for Natasha under there." She shot him a warning look and yet smiled. She picked up the flat, almost weightless gift and her smile faded and looked sad.
"You don't have to open it." He reacted to her sad expression and seemed very nervous. "It isn't anything, really"
She shook her head, "I have never ever had a Christmas gift. This is my first." Emotion choked her voice and she turned away in humiliation.
"Merry Christmas Natasha." His voice was soft, warm and his thoughtfulness made her emotions rush to the service. She suddenly turned back to him, the real Natasha under control again. "Well, I am the schmuck, I didn't get you anything." She smiled sarcastically.
"I think I got crossed off the nice list a long time ago." He smiled and motioned to the small gift. "Are you going to unwrap it or just stare at it?'
"I'm savoring it ok?" She looked at him with a smile, a very grateful smile.
"Trust me, its not much, and certainly not worth savoring." He popped a piece of bacon in his mouth and stretched out his long legs. He had on sweat pants and a t-shirt and smelled of soap, his hair was still damp from his shower.
She slowly untied the string and carefully removed the paper. A pencil drawing, very intricate and artistic covered the parchment. It was a pencil drawing of Natasha, standing in Red Square. A perfect capture of her profile, her eyes looking up and a faint smile on her lips. The details were amazing. She studied the picture and finally looked up at Steve. "You did this?"
He chuckled, "Well that depends on if you like it or not. If you think it's rubbish, then I will deny any affiliation to it."
She shook her head, "I love it." Her finger traced the detail of Red Square and the tilt of her head. "How? When? I didn't know you could draw." She looked at him in awe.
"I doodle a bit. It relaxes me and gets my mind from going to places I would rather it not."
"Thanks, Steve. Really, thank you." She smiled warmly.
He smiled and then cleared his throat, "I hear there is good ice skating at Washington Harbor in Georgetown. What do you think?" He stood and started stacking the plates and walking to the kitchen.
"Ice skating?" She was still staring at the drawing.
"A girl from Russia certainly knows how to ice skate, right?"
"Ice skate and hockey, Rogers." She stood quickly, clutching the drawing to her. "I will wipe the floor with your sorry heroic butt." She smiled challenging him.
Several hours later, Steve and Natasha entered his flat once again. Peeling off layers of coats, hats, gloves and scarfs, laughing and exhausted. "You cheat!" Steve laughed accusingly and dropped onto the sofa.
"I do not cheat, you just can't accept that I am SOO much better at it than you!" She sat down next to him and propped her stocking feet up on the coffee table.
"You wish!" He laid his head back on the sofa and let out a sigh. "That was fun!" He said it a bit surprisingly.
"When was the last time we ever said that?" She jumped up and grabbed two waters from the fridge and tossed him one.
"Not a lot of that in our line of work." His voice sobered.
"No talk of work today Rogers, I am still on holiday." She stretched. "Have any good Christmas movies we could watch?"
Steve looked at her and grinned. "One! Its very old and black and white."
She shook her head, "Oh my gosh Rogers. You are a fossil."
"That I am", He stood and rummaged through a drawer before pulling it out. He tossed it to Natasha. HOLIDAY INN. "It was one of the few movies I ever saw in a theater. My mom scraped up a bit of money and she treated me to the movie on Christmas day the year before she died." His smile had faded and he was lost again in the past.
"Well, since I beat you so bad on the rink, I will humor an old man, what the hell."
She hopped up and slipped it into the DVD player and tossed the remotes to Steve. "I am going to need beer and popcorn however."
A couple hours, two bowls of popcorn and four beers later, the DVD shut off but Natasha was still humming, "White Christmas". "I liked it. She should have realized how good he was to begin with. It took her long enough to figure it out. I want to live there. Think I will move to Vermont." She lay back on the sofa and stretched, she looked over at Steve and smiled. "I don't want this day to end."
"Oh its not over yet, Romanoff, didn't you promise me Borscht?" His eyes were teasing and she decided she really liked this side to Steve.
"You really want me to cook? You are indeed a very brave man Rogers. Or on a suicide mission." She lifted an eyebrow at him and winked.
"Ah you're not getting out of this one Romanoff. I made you a fine dinner last night,"—she snorted in laughter "and I cooked your breakfast," he put her feet down and slapped her thigh, "off you go. If you need help finding anything just ask."
"Male chauvinist." Then in a fake deep male voice, "A woman's place in in the kitchen." She grinned evilly at him and walked into the kitchen.
An hour later, with much pan banging, a few cuss words and a yelp or two she came out of the kitchen, "Your dinner is served, Master." She bowed low to him and smiled.
He laughed and walked into the kitchen. It smelled surprisingly good he had to admit. "So what wine goes with Borsht?"
"Vodka! Its Russian, Cap. No dainty drink for a Russian."
Dinner conversation was easy, relaxed and light. They both knew better than to delve into work, or their pasts.
It was quite late when they finally stood up from the table. "You are a good cook." He hadn't meant for it to come out so surprisingly and then laughed. "Uh, that came out not very well."
"No, no, that fair. My culinary skills as of late, has been opening a can of Ravioli." She looked at the clock and groaned. "Damn, later than I thought. I guess the holiday is pretty well over. I better make it back to my place and face the real world." She put on her shoes and grabbed her duffle bag.
"I'll walk you home." He slipped on his jacket and lifted her bag.
"I will be okay, but thanks!"
"I could use the walk. Humor me." He opened the door and let her go ahead of him. Even though the night was cold, it was beautiful with the fresh snow and the street lamps making it sparkle with their light.
They reached her flat and he walked her up to her door. "I learned a lot about my partner today, she cooks, she cheats at hockey and she secretly loves old black and white movies." He grinned down at her as he sat her bag inside the door for her.
She stood on her tiptoes, put a hand on his left arm and leaned in to gently kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks for the great holiday." All teasing was gone from her voice. "I actually loved this Christmas!
Steve smiled gently at her, a bit confused at her tenderness and yet warmed by it as well.
He stepped closer to her and gently took her into his arms in an enveloping hug. "Merry Christmas Nat."