So... My computer broke down on me this week and that's why I haven't posted anything. My winter break starts tomorrow so I'll be working on getting the rest of these out. On that note, I hope this chapter isn't too rough...

Thanks for everyone who has reviewed thus far! It means a lot to me!

Hope you enjoy! Let me know!


"Let's play Secret Santa."

Natasha turned from the television—which was playing Miracle on 34th Street—to look at Banner with eyes wide.

"Why are you looking at me like I've just turned into the other guy?"

"You want us to play Secret Santa?" she questioned.

"Why not?"

"Yeah, Tash, why not?" Clint smirked.

"Call me Tash again and you'll have a bullet through your skull."

"What is this Santa of Secrets?" questioned Thor. "Is it like the man on the glowing box?"

"If it's still played the same, it's a gift game," Steve responded. "Everyone playing has their name in a hat. Everyone draws a name and doesn't share whose name they drew. Then for the five days before Christmas you buy little gifts for your person and then on Christmas reveal who you had with a larger gift."

"Thanks, Wing Tips, because that wasn't more confusing than it needed to be," Stark remarked and swirled his scotch around his glass.

"I thought you were done drinking?" asked Natasha.

"Who here's going to stop me?" Stark glanced around. "See? No one."

"So, are we serious about playing Secret Santa? I'll definitely play," Clint said, attempting to deflect a fight.

"You won't get your Turtle Dove," said Stark. "Do you still want to play, Clinty?"

"I think it's wise if you put away your drink, Stark."

"Make me, Legolas."

Steve rose from his seat on the couch. "Okay, let's just grab a hat or bucket—"

"Empty bottle of Scotch," murmured Clint.

"I'll get a piece of paper and write out the names." Natasha walked into the kitchen. She placed her hands on the counter and sighed. Her head bowed. If Stark didn't change his attitude soon, she would have to shoot him in the face. She glanced up as Steve entered.

"How's the paper hunt going, Natasha?"

She blinked at him. "It's…"

"I didn't think you came in here to get paper."

"Did I make it that obvious?"

"Are you really asking this question?"

Natasha sighed and leaned back on the counter. "He just won't leave me alone. It's like he blames me about the Chitauri mess."

"Stark?"

"Who else would I be talking about, Cap?"

Steve shrugged. "Where did you get that idea?"

"You haven't seen the fights we've had when you're not around." Natasha opened a few drawers and took out paper and a pen. Laying the paper on the counter, she uncapped the pen. With the tip touching the paper, the ink flowed out across the sheet of white leaving their names in the wake.

"They're bad?"

"He makes comments about the invasion, like it's my fault. I didn't talk Loki into unleashing an army. He thought up that psychotic thing on his own. I didn't do it. I think Stark forgot I was off in nightmare land."

"He's not holding you responsible."

"I know Stark pawns issues off on people when he's uncomfortable, but this isn't like the other times."

"He's blaming himself, and you know it."

"So there's something else to it?"

"There's nothing, Natasha. It's just him blaming himself."

Natasha looked at Steve. He was hiding something about Stark. Her fingers dropped the pen and gripped the paper. Her mind ran over a list of possible issues. She realized yesterday that the tree was involved. It made sense since he had made such a big deal over the Christmas decoration.

The paper shred easily into pieces in her hands. She then folded the pieces into bits and put them in a bowl.

"Look, Steve, if you don't want to tell me what's wrong with Stark, that's your own business. But maybe you could drop the hint that he needs to lay off Clint and I. There's nothing going on between us."

"Despite people's assumptions, Stark doesn't listen to anything I say."

She sighed. "That man needs a leash. A tight one."

"He's got Pepper."

"Who isn't doing her job!" Natasha snapped and picked up the bowl.

"Doing her job?"

"She should be keeping a muzzle on him."

"Isn't that a little harsh?" Steve asked, seemingly taken back by her sudden aggression.

Her eyes narrowed on him. "I don't know why you're trying to protect him. Is he really worth it?" She shook her head when Steve didn't response. "Fine, I'll play your little game, because I respect you. Warn him though; if he doesn't shape up, I'll make him suffer in every imaginable way possible."

She stormed from the kitchen with Steve in toe. The rest of the ground appeared to have explained the rules of Secret Santa to Thor. She took a deep breath, and held the bowl up.

"Okay Thor, you choose first."

Thor reached a hand in the bowl and pulled out a piece. He unraveled it.

"This parchment has Friend Archer's name on it. This means he is my Santa of Secret, correct?"

"That's not how it's played, Thor," Banner responded, attempting not to roll his eyes. "You're not supposed to tell who you have. That's why it's a secret."

"Put it back and try again," Natasha said, taking the paper and mixing it back in. Her eyes glanced toward Steve who was now gazing out the window. "Just don't give away any secrets."