Chapter 2

The giant-ass tree is left on the balcony for a few days whilst a pot big enough to root it is found and the living room is finished. Tony isn't impressed by the fact that there's a tree just lying haphazard on his building, but he doesn't voice his opinions on it because Thor's just really touchy about the tree.

Clint and Natasha have arrived back from Toronto, and nobody was ever aware of how excitable Clint got around the holidays.

"I love Christmas!" he chirrups, flitting about touching every Christmassy item he sees. "Best time of year. Presents! Candy! Santa!"

"Santa?" Thor asks.

Clint's eyes go round. "You don't know who Santa is?"

"He's a god from another realm, Clint," Bruce explains with a deep sigh. "Of course he doesn't know who Santa is."

Clint turns back to Thor and delves into a very detailed explanation about Santa Claus, and Thor's own eyes light up with awe and wonder.

"What is this Midgardian magic that you have kept hidden from me? I was not aware that humans had such power!"

"They don't. He's simply a fairy story that children grow up believing until their dreams are crushed when they realise the only people putting presents under the tree are their parents." Tony smirks when he sees Clint's angered face.

Thor looks to them all. "Why do you deceive one another so?"

Steve shrugs. "Because it makes your childhood magical? And yeah, it hurts when you find out that it's made up, but then you remember the fantastic life you had as a kid because you believed in something so wonderful."

"Jeez Captain, that's deep shit." Tony puts his hand to his heart. "I had a wonderful young life and I always knew Santa was a con."

"Shut up, all of you!" comes an enraged voice from above. Somehow, Clint had managed to ascend to the rafters without need of a ladder. "Some of us choose to keep believing."

"Oh Clint," Tasha pouts sadly.

"What? One wholly happy thing to look forward to every year is too much to ask for? Even if you have to pretend you don't know it's not real?"

Everyone shuffles their feet awkwardly. Clint folds his arms and slumps, turning his back so he can sulk without them seeing.


Loki sits in the park, twiddling his thumbs. He's bored, lonely, and he's feeling…grim. He's having to behave himself and not lure attention whilst he waits for Christmas Eve to arrive, since he can't be defeated when Midgardian magic is so close to being his that he can almost feel it pulsating through him. So, over the past days, he has merely been wandering the streets of New York in his female form, occasionally drifting back to the apartment he's staying in to sleep and relax.

He hates hates to admit it, but there's something in the air at this time of year that makes humans emit an infectious joy that seems to slip into his lips and curl them into a subconscious smile. It's the childish glee that he used to feel as a boy; the magic, the mystery – the indestructible hope – that takes him back to a time when nothing was on his shoulders. He was just a boy – impish and naïve – desperate for adventure.

He stands from the bench and heads towards the streets once more. Somehow, the dark cloak of misery that his betrayal has draped over everything has faded ever so slightly, and he can look at things without so much hatred and rage. He recognises a toy store and precariously steps inside, peering around at the smiling faces and abundance of toys. A young girl bumps into him and he's about to snap at her when she looks into his face with glowing blue eyes and says, "Sorry mister! Merry Christmas!" before bouncing off towards her mother. Loki doesn't know what it is, but something…has changed within him.

He doesn't like it.

He shouldn't enjoy this happiness. He's not allowed to. He's focused his existence on pain and anger.

…Hasn't he?


That evening, the tree has found a home nestled snugly in the biggest pot Steve and Bruce could find in New York. The towering foliage awaits its Christmas dressing, with six armed (with ornaments and tinsel) Avengers standing at its base.

"Plan of action, Cap?" Clint asks, eyebrows low.

Steve nods. "Barton, you take the peak. Bring that tinsel down around the tree like your abseiling a cylindrical cliff. Stark, you're on lights duty. Follow the perimeter of the tinsel. Add a little pizazz in there of your own if you want, but don't stray too far off target. Tasha, ornaments?" She nods, holding them up for Steve to see. "Good. Bruce, you're on ribbons. Just pin 'em randomly. Thor, you do candy canes."

"What's your position?" Tony asks, leaning against a solid branch, adorning his suit. Steve puts his hands on his hips.

"I'll direct," he says with pride, head held high.

"You….you do that."

With that, the team advance upon the tree, with orders being yelled by Steve to, "Not put that there!" and, "A little more to the left!" All the while, a mix CD chosen by JARVIS is swooning out Nat King Cole, and even Tony has to admit that he's never felt like such a part of a family.

"This is nice, isn't it?" he states as he crosses paths with Tasha, who throws him a disbelieving look. "Woah, I'm being serious! It's…family…lily..ly – what's the word? Is there a word? Family-esque?"

"Don't hurt yourself, Stark," Tasha chuckles, but it's a warm sound which is very rare to get out of the Black Widow.

"Looking good, guys!" Pepper has finally finished work, and she's standing beside Steve, arms crossed, and watching their progress. "But there's a gap just below your foot, Thor. No…yeah, just there! That's the trick." She smiles, and her eyes meet Tony's as he peeks between the branches.

"Well isn't this somethin',"Nick Fury declares with open arms and – wait - is that a smile on his face? "I never thought I'd see this."

"What? Six superheroes working together for the greater good of the Avenger tower deco and thus improving the environment with Christmassy goodness thus initiating a feeling of merriment which, in turn, may actually improve our abilities on the field?" Tony has landed, finished with his job, and greets Pepper with a kiss on the cheek and Fury with expectancy. Fury just smirks and pats him on the shoulder.

"Just don't get too distracted by the festivities. City's been worryingly quiet these past few weeks. I'd bet ten bucks that Loki's plotting something."

"Probably trying to steal Christmas or something. Fitting, actually. Since he's into green. And has a tiny if no heart at all."

"I do not understand?" Thor appears troubled. "You cannot steal Christmas! It is a spirit, Steve tells me. A deep, ingrained spirit that keeps joy even when trouble is afoot."

Tony stares into the god's eyes and places a hand on his arm. "I think you've figured out the understanding all on your own, Thunderpants. But now you've ruined the end of the book for Clint. Aw." An ornament smashes at Tony's feet.

"CLINT, DON'T BREAK THE DECORATIONS!" Steve hollers.


When all the work is done, there is but one job left.

"Go on, Steve," Pepper urges, placing the porcelain angel into the man's hands. He looks at it, passing it gently over his palms, and then stares pointedly at the pinnacle of the tree.

"So no one else wants to-"

"Dammit, soldier! You have orders!" Tony whacks him on the back and Steve walks forwards, grasping a branch and swinging himself up into the tree. His head pops out at the top, and he slowly lowers the angel onto the highest twig. There's an outbreak of applause, and a collective, "Good job, team."

"Well, I'm beat," Clint yawns, cracking his back.

"Did da spiwit of Chwistmas get too much faw da leedle archer?" Tony teases, fully prepared for the fist that actually does come flying his way. They spar for a few moments, their audience laughing and jeering insults – egging them on. Tony gets in a good left hook to Clint's jaw, but Clint dips out of sight for hardly a millisecond and suddenly Tony's on his ass, dazed, with his teammates and girlfriend giggling.

"That's right, laugh at my pain," Tony grumbles. Pepper kneels - shaking with laughter - by his side and brushes his hair back.

"Oh don't worry, Tony," she says wickedly, "I will."


Loki doesn't quite know how he's got here. It's Christmas Eve, the night of his great plan to unfold and for chaos to ensue, but he's uncertain. And he doesn't even know what about. Well, he does, but he doesn't exactly want to admit it. This Santa man. He delivers presents and joy to the children all over the world. He is what Loki saw in the eyes of that small girl in the toy store. He is what makes the atmosphere so glorious. It is he who gives hope to all on this Midgardian day. Can Loki really kill the man who reminds him of who he really was…who he still is, deep down?

Loki is aware of Thor's involvement in the festivities with the Avengers. He is abashedly jealous that he can't be a part of such joviality, and he has to kick himself for even thinking that. From his place atop his apartment building, he can see the Avengers tower shimmering with lights, like a strange Christmas tree.

Is he really ready to ruin Christmas for children all over the world? Does he not want, in his heart, to simply revel in the wonder that Christmas brings? Has that not been what he has struggled with so intimately this past week?

"Argh!" he yells to the skies in despair. "What have I become?"

But no one answers. Maybe because he already knows the answer. The question is not what he has become, but what he has unbecome. Slowly, but nevertheless surely, the cloak of misery has faded to almost nothing. He takes a gulp of air as deep as his lungs will allow.

Santa will fly safe tonight.