Little Jack Frost, go away away…there's lots of cold feet, all the lovers complain; you turned off the heat down on Lovers' Lane….
It was late in the evening, December 1st, and Steve Rogers was at SHIELD headquarters, doing paperwork. Or at least, that's what he had told everyone. In reality, he was hiding out from all the glitz and flash of modern Christmas celebrations.
Pepper had the Tower already decorated to classy perfection: 9 foot tall trees, sparkling gold ornaments, white ribbon. Everything matched perfectly and came pre-lit. Steve missed the days of live pine trees filling a tiny apartment with their scent, ornaments mismatched and cracked and the tinsel crookedly draped on by an overenthusiastic child. So when he heard the strains of Frankie Carle complaining about Little Jack Frost – a remnant from his era - playing in the sterile office space, he had to investigate.
Strangely enough, the music was coming from Agent Coulson's office. The song changed to "Christmas in Killarney," and a rich female voice joined in with Bing Crosby singing about an Irish Christmas. That song had been his mother's favorite; she used to sing it and then tell him stories about her Irish Christmases when she had been a child.
It's nice you know, to kiss your beau, while cuddling under the mistletoe…and Santa Claus you know, of course, is one of the boys from home…
Cautiously, Steve peeked around the corner of the door frame. A woman – not Darcy, whom he wouldn't be surprised to see in there, but someone else – was hanging garlands around the Agent's office.
Steve felt like he had been sent back to his time: the dame (lady, he had to start remembering that) had reddish brown hair in perfect waves, and was wearing a cheerful red dress, the skirt swinging over stocking-clad legs as she stretched to pin up a swag in the garland. She teetered ominously on the office chair, trying to hook up the garland in a spot just barely beyond her reach.
"Here, let me help you ma'am," Steve offered, rushing forward to prevent her from falling. Belatedly, he realized that he should have made his presence known, but she simply raised an eyebrow, and pointed at where she wanted the garland placed.
As he pretended to fix the bow, he watched her out of the corner of his eye as she sat down in the chair and put her heels back on. Again, belatedly, he realized he should be concerned about an unknown woman in Coulson's office, but he had been distracted by Glen Miller and back seams and crooked tinsel.
She stood and held out a hand. "I'm Thessaly, by the way, but you can call me Tess." Her voice was huskier than he expected, and held the traces of an accent that reminded him of Gone with the Wind.
"Steve," he replied, shaking her offered hand. "What are you doing in here?" he asked as he released her grip.
She waved a hand – oddly encased in matching red leather gloves – at her handiwork. "Surprising Phil, of course," she explained, as if it was obvious. Her expression was calm, and it reminded Steve of someone, though he couldn't quite place it…
"Thanks for your help, Steve." She dug in her purse, pulling out a festive tin with a bright green bow and an envelope bordered with holly. Cracking open the tin, she pulled out two candies and held one out to him. "Turtle?"
Steve took the offered sweet, and she placed the tin and letter in the center of Coulson's desk. "This is really good," he said around a mouthful of pecans and caramel and chocolate.
"Thank you. I made 'em myself," she said, a proud grin tugging at the edges of her ruby red lips. "Now, Steve, if you would be so kind as to show me out, I would be most appreciative."
Steve awkwardly swallowed the last of the candy in his mouth. What was it about beautiful dames that was guaranteed to make him revert to his bumbling pre-serum self? He could feel the blush creeping up the back of his neck as he retreated back to the door and stammered, "S-sure thing, ma'am."
As she slipped into her coat, Steve fiddled with the zipper of his leather jacket, trying to think of something to say. She joined him in the doorway. He started to walk out, but her hand on his arm stopped him. He looked back at her, puzzled.
Her expression still placid, she pointed up. Following her finger, he looked up and saw the traditional ball of mistletoe hanging on the top of the doorframe, a mere inch or two from the top of his head. "It is tradition…" she said, the barest hint of suggestion creeping into her voice.
As Steve continued to blush, a Dick Haymes song started playing. "Button up your overcoat, when the wind is spree…take good care of yourself, you belong to me…" she sang along as she stepped closer, pulling the zipper on his jacket back up. Steve held himself still as a statue, not even daring to breathe as the scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils. She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek.
"I'm not so forward as to make out with a complete stranger, even if he did compliment my baking," she said wryly as she rocked back on her heels.
"I would never presume that, ma'am." Steve said, a goofy grin trying to creep its way onto his face.
The two parted ways at the lobby, and Steve again realized belatedly that he had forgotten to get any more information about her other than her first name. Shrugging, he stepped out into the bitter cold, whistling Bing Crosby as he walked to his bike.
Still whistling when he reached his destination, he rode the elevator up to his floor in the Tower. Before he could exit, JARVIS coughed politely. "Captain Rogers?"
"Yes, JARVIS?"
"Mr. Stark is looking for you, sir. Also, you might want to wipe the lipstick off your cheek."
Grinning to himself, Steve hastily wiped at his cheek. "Thanks JARVIS!"
The next morning, Steve went into Agent Coulson's office – ostensibly, to drop off some forms, but in truth he wanted to find out the unnaturally calm agent's reaction to his newly decorated office.
When he got there, he placed the forms on Darcy's desk. She waved at him, saying "Son of Coul wishes to speak to you. Did you do this mischief?"
Steve shook his head. "Okay, well, go on back. Also, Blair might've said your name last night. It came out more like Steeb, but hey, I'm counting it. So, number one uncle prize to you. Tony's gonna be pissed."
Steve smiled. Few things made him happier than Blair, Darcy and Clint's baby girl. "Did JARVIS record it?"
"Yeah, I emailed it to you. Now go! To the bossman!" She flapped her hands at him.
Before Steve could knock on the agent's door frame, he heard "Come in, Captain Rogers," from inside the inner office.
Coulson gestured to a chair, and Steve sat down. "What can I do for you, Agent?" he asked politely.
"Security said you working late last night. Did you see anyone in here?" Coulson asked calmly, as if he were asking about Steve's plans for the day, not a potential security breach.
Steve internally debated about telling Coulson about Thessaly, but then realized that he had probably already seen the security footage. "Yes sir. She told me her name was Thessaly, but I didn't get any more information than that."
Steve was glad he was sitting down, because he might have collapsed in shock at the happy grin that spread across Phil's face. "She came," he muttered to himself, opening the tin.
"Who is she, sir?" he asked quietly. "If you don't mind me asking?" he added as an afterthought.
Coulson's face resumed its blank mask. "I'm afraid that's beyond your security clearance, Captain."
Steve's face fell. So much for finding out more about the mysterious dame in the red dress. Coulson, noticing his reaction, held out the tin. "Turtle?" he offered. Steve accepted one, and Coulson then, oddly enough, pulled a picture frame out of his desk drawer. Turning it to face Steve, he calmly resumed eating his own turtle.
Steve chewed and leaned forward to look at the photo in the silver frame. A younger, laughing Agent Coulson had a young girl with reddish brown braids sitting on his shoulders, an ice cream cone in her hand.
Steve looked back up, trying to confirm what Coulson was implying. The agent nodded briefly, then placed the frame back in his drawer.
Steve nodded in return and stood up. "Thanks for the candy, Agent Coulson. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help."
As Steve went to leave the man's office, he heard him clear his throat. "Captain Rogers, do you have dinner plans for tonight?"
AN: The songs referenced here are:
- "Little Jack Frost Get Lost" by Frankie Carle and His Orchestra
- "Christmas in Killarney" by Bing Crosby
- "Button Up Your Overcoat" by Dick Haymes