As the early hours of Christmas Eve slipped by, Steve found himself staring up at the ceiling in his room, into the darkness. Peace, calm, quiet.

The basement bedroom that was to be his for the duration of their stay was pretty nice, all things considered. About fifteen years ago, Paul had set about finishing the entire basement so that the girls would no longer have to share a bedroom, the result producing an additional bathroom and a rec area respectively as well (Steve was tempted to try out the pool table right then, but he brushed it off for the time being). Due to it being slightly colder down there even with the heat on, the bed was heaped with blankets, a large quilt overtop it. It lacked windows, so when he shut off the lamps it was like being trapped in a cave. Some framed pictures of the family and past trips adorned the walls, and an empty dresser stood waiting for his things. Despite being tucked in the far corner of the lowest part of the house, it wasn't all that bad. Sure, the bed was a little lower to the ground than he liked, but at least it was less like marshmallow fluff than the mattress back at Holly's place.

When they had arrived the day before, the house was very much humming below the surface, the spark of activity being held back as the newcomers settled in. After getting some dinner, Steve sat back, observing Holly's family as they interacted with one another. Though Hank had been frosty to him, he was definitely a warmer side, something he showed outright to his mother and daughter, as he snatched cookies from the pan as he scooped them away from Lisa and handed one off to the little girl, conspirators both. Paul kept a steady eye over everyone, though he rarely interjected. For some reason, the mental image of him hiding behind a newspaper and letting the family run around him came to his mind; Paul strongly reminded Steve of Mr. Barnes, a memory that made his heart ache as well as warmed it.

Lisa took some getting used to. It had been quite some time since Steve had been under the full weight of someone's mothering, but she was making up for the lack. She bounced from person to person, making sure that they were happy, and as the one of the guests, she was paying close attention to him. It wasn't completely smothering, but it was overwhelming for her to be right there, insisting he take as much food as he wanted, and to tell her more about how he and his mother used to celebrate the holidays in the past.

Holly looked so at ease there, even when her brother brought up a couple of embarrassing stories as they traded past Christmas experiences. Not that she was overly tense all the time (it seemed like years had passed since she acted awkward or shy in his presence), but there was a peace she found here that he hadn't seen back east.

They hadn't probed him about his work, about being Captain America, not the adults, at least (Jodie was practically vibrating with excitement when they told her about his superhero status, and the questions came flying so fast, he only understood about one in three). Cautiously, he inquired about their lives, their jobs, but they left his life alone, apart from what he was willing to share. After asking, Holly theorized that it was because they didn't want to pry.

"That might by my fault. I've basically demanded they respect your privacy, and the Avengers' privacy, before we came out here," she'd confessed, combing through her hair and flashing him an apologetic look. "I get that you can't talk about some things, and that's what I told them. Sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for," he'd replied, letting out a slow breath. "It just seemed odd that…"

"That they're not neck deep in your business? Frankly, that's not the point of us being here, so they won't dig into it," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "But if you'd like, I could prompt Hank to ask you some very interesting questions."

"No thank you," he responded flatly, earning a chuckle and another quick kiss from her. And they left it at that.

Things were still a little tense, but he was becoming more and more at ease with these people as he spent time with them. It made him glad that he would not be alone for the holiday, that he was, for intents and purposes, welcomed by the family. Maybe someday they would think of him as more than just a newcomer. That was an encouraging thought, no matter if they did it for his sake or Holly's.

A creak echoed from the upstairs, putting him on alert. Half sitting up, he listened harder, forcing himself to breathe quietly. An intruder, here? The footfalls were light, treading down his way. As they came down the basement stairs, they paused upon a thump against the far wall. A muffled curse met his ears before the steps resumed. Soon enough, the tiniest scratch came at his door.

"It's just me," a feminine voice whispered, and immediately Steve relaxed. Before he was able to call her to come in, Holly cracked the door open, slinking in and shutting it behind her as silently as possible.

"Holl, what are you doing?" he asked, fumbling to find the lamp in the dark. Switching it on, they both winced at the sudden brightness. Blinking away the spots in his vision, he noticed she was back in her red flannel shirt and sleep shorts, hair ruffled by sleep even with it being held by a binder.

She shrugged, padding over to him. Without prompting, he moved over, allowing her the room to sit beside him. Taking the invitation further, she tucked her legs under the sheets, mock shivering against the coolness of the room. He snorted and rolled his eyes; she had a perfectly good pair of sweatpants packed, it was her fault if she froze her sleep.

"Couldn't help it, I'm too excited."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Christmas isn't until tomorrow, you know."

"Exactly my point. It's right there, I can't wait," she said, her voice reflecting the giddiness she was feeling. Leaning forward, she slid her hand along his shoulder, a couple fingers sweeping beneath the collar of his shirt. "And I wanted to see you."

"You saw me all day," he pointed out, reaching out and pulling her closer.

"Not the same and you know it," she retorted, snuggling into his embrace, her head tucked neatly under his chin. Sighing, he silently conceded the point. Even with him being willing to comply with her parents' wishes in regards to sleeping separately, he didn't have many opportunities here to hold her, kiss her, unless they managed to get a moment by themselves. Given how much time they spent apart back east, he was familiar with the ache of not having her near, but to have her so close and yet so far…

"At least I now know what will get you out of bed at four in the morning," he remarked, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing as her hands kept tracing lightly over his chest and across his back. Swallowing hard, he felt his eyelids close as she found her way beneath the shirt, nails scraping tenderly over his back and leaving tingling trails behind on his skin.

"Well, you are pretty irresistible," she said, gasping softly as he began to gently sweep his fingers under the hem of the sleepshirt, ghosting over her stomach. Giggling, she continued, "How I've contained myself until now, I have no idea."

His eyes cut away, his head shaking in rueful denial. "Whatever you say."

Her expression grew serious then, and she raised herself onto one elbow, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. "One of these days, you'll believe me. Maybe you'll see what I see."

Pulling back, he met her gaze directly, incredulous. Holly didn't flinch, didn't shy away. She'd cottoned on to his deflections long ago, and while she put up with them at the time, she was in no mood to do it now. Steve was a good man, better than most, but for some reason, he never thought of himself well. At least, not since she'd known him. He stood by his actions, did what he felt was right, but when it came to himself, he just ignored it, rolled over it.

Because, in truth, when he looked in the mirror, he still saw the sickly little guy, the one who ran his mouth once too often, weaker than everyone. And his appearance now…it still only seemed halfway real at times. Just the kid from Brooklyn, the person that the world didn't want to know about.

But Holly knew him, saw him. She had reached out to the little guy that he still was on the inside, gave him her heart without expectations. What she saw was worthwhile, and it made all the difference.

In that moment, he made his decision, and Steve sat up fully.

"Can you do something for me?" he asked, dropping his gaze to the blankets. His palms started to sweat a little as his heart began to thump. Taking his fingers from her grasp, he wiped them discreetly.

"Sure." Her brow had furrowed, her tone questioning.

"Go to my bag, get what's in the outside pocket," he told her. Carefully, she got out of the bed, shuffling over to the duffle in question and giving it a joking poke before removing the small package tucked in it. It was wrapped in plain parcel paper, and rather small. In the dim glow of the lamp, her eyes glittered.

"Steve, what is this?"

"Something. For you. Go ahead," Steve murmured, pulling the blankets off his laps and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He rose, pacing to the far wall, suddenly too nervous to sit still. The original intention was to wait until Christmas Day proper, after all the other presents they had shipped up there had been opened, but he could not wait any longer.

Letting out a little hum of exhilaration, Holly waited until she had taken her seat on the mattress again before tearing into the plain wrapping paper. The chink of metal on metal caught her attention, and she shot him an inquisitive glance as she revealed the small, white box. Lifting the lid, she stared down into it. After a couple of seconds, she slowly lifted the chain nestled in the gauze; the tags attached swung as she withdrew them fully. They glinted in the light, the rust having been polished off after years of being in storage. Palming them, she traced the pad of her index finger over the stamped letters, the metal warming to her touch.

Blood type, name, state, religion…Holly took it all in silently.

"They're my old tags. From..." he trailed off, taking a few steps towards her, his sleep pants shifting over his ankles. They were his first pair, from his time before the serum. A kid from Brooklyn, given a chance, doing what he wanted to do. Being a soldier, fighting for the people who needed help, for his country. Receiving them meant he could do what other men were doing, that even if he died defending others (because after all, that's what the tags were for: identifying the soldiers unlucky enough to die in battle), he was given the opportunity to do right. In the past, they meant much more than he ever thought a couple pieces of metal ever could.

Once he'd been given the serum, new ones were stamped, and the old pair was relegated to an old locker, along with his old dress uniform—what was left of it, anyway. Having been part of the rescue of his goods from the historical society, he'd pulled them out several weeks ago (along with Dad's Purple Heart, which had a proud place on his wall at home), cleaned them up. At the time, he had no obvious reason for retrieving those as well, but soon enough, he'd thought of a use for them.

"For the longest time, I hoped to get my own set, like Dad's. And I didn't care how I got them, just so long as I did. They showed that I was allowed to protect what I cared about. They meant so much to me," he told her, a wealth of emotion in his voice. Crossing back to her, he lifted the chain out of her hands, carefully looping it around her neck. The dog tags settled on her chest, and as she reached up to touch them, he captured her hands in his, thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "I want you to have them."

"Thank you," she whispered, her dark eyes scanning his face. A touch of humor invaded her voice as she went on, "But why give them to me? Other than because you have a new set."

His half-grin settled briefly on his lips, dropping away slowly. Gathering his courage, Steve took one deep breath before answering. "Because…because I don't need them to remind me what I have to protect. I know exactly what that is now."

A beat of silence passed, and then…

"I love you."

The words hovered in the air between them, finally spoken aloud. What he'd felt deep down was finally given air, given life. They were the real gift, and he watched as Holly registered exactly what he'd said. Her eyes widened, the smile breaking on her lips. Tugging on his hands, she coaxed him to kneel on the floor, in the v of her legs, before leaning forward crushing her mouth to his. He clung to her, desperately hanging on as her tongue swirled around his, allowing him her taste as he followed her lead.

Finally, finally, finally, he said it.

After a few moments, when they had to draw away for breath, he heard her chuckle as she rested her forehead against his.

"I don't think anyone can top that Christmas present," she murmured, causing Steve to grin widely. Going in for another embrace, he felt the metal tags tap against his chest, no longer just his, but theirs.

A/N: A tad shorter than the previous chapters...okay, A LOT shorter, but I felt this was a good place to stop for the moment. Yes, Steve finally told Holly he loves her. Only took a few months…get the party favors everyone! If it was cheesy or corny, well…guess what, romance is sometimes. No regrets! By no means is this the end of the Christmas arc, so stay tuned for that.

I don't know why, but I feel that before his transformation, Steve would've attached a lot of feelings and meanings to his dog tags, given how badly he wanted to become a soldier and those are a pretty good physical sign of being one. Just saying.

That said, thanks for reading the chapter, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one!

*Props to the person who caught my error regarding Mr. Barnes. Oh my gosh...that was embarrassing...but I fixed it! oops. :-P

(Also, I hate to pimp out my other stories—plugging is something I try to avoid nowadays—but I just wrote a one-shot for The Last of Us. If any of you happen to like that game and want to give a story a try, I would appreciate it if you gave it some love; you can find it listed in my stories on my profile. Thank you. You may go on your merry way now.)