Wanted to get this one out before episode 3 drops. I've enjoyed things so far, and adore that Natasha is being mentioned and acknowledged. Hoping there's a few more nods to her in the rest of the episodes!

Enjoy! 😊

"Hey, Coop, let's leave that one for Dad, okay?" Laura says as she spots her son about to put up the final stocking over the fireplace.

Cooper looks down at the stocking in his hands and he straightens out a wrinkle over the name. "Yeah, okay," he says with a nod, putting it back into the box on the nearby chair.

"Could you stock up the firewood? We're getting a little low," she mentions, and he mumbles out a half-heartedly grumpy "yeah" before going to find his boots. She smiles when she hears a declaration of "I'll help!" from her youngest, who seems to adore following his big brother around for anything and everything.

Laura makes her way over to the box and lifts the stocking out of the box to look at it, ghosting her fingers over the stitching of the name. They'd made the decision the year before to hang up Nat's stocking alongside theirs even though she wouldn't be able to attend. It had felt like the right thing to do, even though it had triggered a little pulse of grief every time she saw it. She'd caught Clint staring at it more than once with an expression of sadness on his face, but he'd confided in her one night that it felt right to him for it to be up with theirs. She picks away a couple pieces of lint from the fabric and feels a swell of emotion wash over her as memories from years past surface.

"Here," Clint says as he passes Nat a mug of coffee before taking a seat next to Laura on the couch.

"Thanks."

"How's the little man?" he asks with a nod to Cooper, who is sitting in front of Nat, tearing clumsily at the various pieces of wrapping paper strewn around him.

"Having entirely too much fun with all this destruction. It's like a Christmas war zone."

Laura can't help the laugh from bubbling up. "See? I told you he was your son."

"He's a baby!" Clint defends. "All babies like to make messes."

Nat arches an eyebrow as she deftly swipes a small piece of shredded paper from Cooper's hands just as he was about to put it into his mouth.

"Whatever," Clint grumbles as he sits back against the cushions. "It's not my fault, is all I'm saying."

"Oh, hey, come on, Cooper. Don't eat that," Nat says quickly, snagging another piece of paper before he can eat it.

"All those toys we bought him, and he wants to play with the paper," he grumbles with a shake of his head.

"I warned you," Laura reminds him. "Both of you," she adds with a look to Nat.

"It's my prerogative to spoil my de facto nephew," Nat defends without looking up from her current task of offering a much larger piece of wrapping paper to Cooper.

"Spoil might be an understatement," Clint quips. Nat had been very generous with her gifts for Cooper. "Did you buy him a pony too?"

Nat shoots an unimpressed look at Clint. "Keep going, maybe I'll take back your custom arrow-"

"No, no," Clint says quickly, "there's no need to do that."

Laura chuckles. "I swear you could probably persuade him to give you his son, but try and take his bow or arrows? Not a chance."

"They were his first baby," Nat quips.

"C'mon now, it's Christmas. I don't get today of all days off from you two ganging up on me?"

Laura meets Nat's gaze and they both grin widely before replying "no" in unison, prompting Clint to groan loudly.

Cooper lets out a frustrated grunt as Nat takes away yet another piece of wrapping paper before it can make its way into his mouth. "Okay, little guy, I think we're done with the paper, how about this toy instead?" Nat says as she offers him one of the toys that she'd bought him.

He bats it away and reaches toward more paper with an excited shriek. Nat groans as Laura and Clint chuckle.

"Yep, that's good, Lila. Just go slow to take it out of the shape so the dough doesn't tear," Laura instructs as she supervises her daughter's latest effort at making a star cookie. She holds in a chuckle at her focused expression, complete with her tongue sticking out of her mouth. "Yes, there you go! Okay, put it on the cookie sheet now."

She hears the creak of the front door opening and then her husband's voice. "Laura's in the kitchen. I think she's working on some Christmas cookies with Lila."

"Ah, and you got relegated to chopping wood?" Nat replies dryly and Laura holds in another laugh.

"I do what I'm told," he replies with a chuckle.

"Auntie Nat!" Lila shrieks as she pieces together what she's hearing from the front door. The cookie is dropped unceremoniously and Laura chuckles as she watches her flour-covered daughter race out of the kitchen toward her aunt. She hears a muffled 'oof' that she presumes is Nat catching her niece. "You're here!"

She hears Nat chuckle. "Yes, I am."

"For Christmas?"

"Yep. And New Year's if your parents don't kick me out."

"Yay! We can make cookies, and have hot chocolate, and play with my toys, and-"

"Hey, Laura," Nat says as she enters the kitchen with Lila in her arms, who is still chattering on about her plans for Nat's stay.

"-and we can make a snow fort, and-"

"I think I found your assistant."

"Clearly," Laura says dryly as a grin spreads at the sight of Nat now also covered in flour. She watches as the redhead tries to brush off some of it with her free hand but has little success.

"-and then we can watch movies, and-"

"Okay, Lila," Laura interrupts. "I think Auntie Nat got the gist - you want to spend some time with her."

Nat grins and presses a kiss to Lila's cheek before she puts her down. "And we will, I promise," she says seriously to Lila, "but I think I may have interrupted something," she continues with a nod to the cookies.

"Oh, yeah, we're makin' cookies," Lila says with a grin as she climbs up onto the chair she'd been standing on before she'd run off.

"For Halloween, right?"

"No, Auntie Nat!" Lila says with a giggle.

"Easter?" Nat says with a dramatically furrowed brow.

"No!"

"My birthday?"

"No! It's Christmas, Auntie Nat!"

"Oh, right, right, right. Of course!"

"You wanna help me put icing and sprinkles on these ones?" Lila offers.

"Absolutely," Nat agrees readily as she steps up to the counter and grabs the bag of icing. "You just tell me where," she instructs.

Laura smiles as she busies herself with cutting some more cookies into various shapes to bake for the two of them to decorate. It had been rare, once upon a time, for Nat to be so open with her joy. The kids had broken through her walls easily enough though, and now it was rare for Nat to not be joyful around them.

"Morning," Laura says as she glances up to find Nat making her way to the kitchen table.

"Morning," she replies, and Laura stifles a laugh when she yawns mid way through.

"Coffee?"

"Please," Nat replies eagerly. "Kids still asleep?"

"No, Clint took them for breakfast."

Nat frowns. "And not you? Do I need to have a talk with him?"

Laura chuckles as she slides a mug of fresh coffee to the redhead, which she accepts eagerly and wraps her hands around it before inhaling deeply in appreciation. "No, they're getting their dad time in," Laura explains. "I, however, am relishing the kid free zone for two hours. Maybe three if he gives in to their wish to go to the hardware store for more lights for the tree."

"You need any help with anything?" she offers.

"No, I'm surprisingly ahead of schedule this year. I'm done shopping, done wrapping, and done decorating. All that's left is the actual cooking, which I've already done all of the prep for."

Nat whistles, clearly impressed. "Damn."

"I know," she replies before joining her at the table. "How are you? Sorry I wasn't up when you got here last ni-"

Nat waves her off. "Don't worry about it. Flight got delayed twice because of the weather, so it was really late when I got here."

"Guess that explains why I'm up earlier than you are."

"It's been a busy week," she sighs.

Laura nods. "Clint mentioned you drew the short straw. Op go sideways?"

"Sideways, upside down, backwards, diagonally...you name the direction, it went that way," she explained with a frustrated gesture of her hand.

"Ouch."

"Yeah. We managed to mostly salvage it, I think. Fury owes me some serious hazard pay though," she quips with a smirk.

"I'm sure Phil's got it noted in the paperwork."

"He better."

"You're okay though?"

"I'm fine. Couple of scrapes and some bruising, that's it." Laura eyes her skeptically, knowing that she has always tended to downplay her injuries while at the farm. Nat rolls her eyes and reaches over to squeeze Laura's hand reassuringly. "I promise."

"Alright," Laura concedes with a smile. "Just making sure."

"Mmhmm. But enough shop talk. Catch me up on the gossip here."

Laura laughs. "If only SHIELD knew you were such a fan of gossip."

"Not all gossip," Nat corrects, "just the stuff here."

"It's quite tame in comparison to your day job."

"It's deliciously normal," she counters. "Now spill."

"Mom?"

Laura glances up at the sudden voice of her daughter which brings her back to the present and out of her memories. "Yeah?" she responds.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Laura answers, shooting her daughter a small smile. "Just thinking about your Aunt Nat," she adds when Lila gives her a dubious look. Laura holds out an arm in invitation when she sees her daughter's expression wavering with uncertainty.

Lila doesn't hesitate to take the few steps and wrap herself around her mother, snuggling into her side. "Dad was getting uncomfortable at the musical watching the woman dressed as the Black Widow. And I know it wasn't because of how ridiculous it all was," she tells Laura.

Laura holds in a sigh. She'd picked up on something during her phone call with him after they'd gotten back to their hotel. She hadn't been able to pin down exactly what, but it would make sense that seeing Nat's likeness might trigger him. "Well, Nat was a huge part of his life for a long time. She was his best friend. You know how much it hurt when we told you about her death, just imagine how hard it is for him, having known her all those years and to have lost her right in front of him."

"I know," Lila says softly, and Laura knows her daughter understands. Nat's death had hit Lila hard too because she'd always had a special bond with her aunt.

Laura is quiet for a minute as she and Lila just stare at the stocking with Natasha's name on it.

"When did you get that for her?" Lila asks.

Laura smiles warmly at the memory. "It was Cooper's first Christmas. I mentioned to Dad that somehow we didn't have stockings and that we should get some. He agreed happily and then I suggested we get one for Nat too. Of course he agreed with that too. By that point she was already a part of this family, but it was just another solid bit of proof for her. We just hung it up with ours so she could see when she got here. When she did, she was so overwhelmed by the gesture and what it meant."

"Was it hard for her? I guess she didn't really celebrate Christmas before Dad saved her, did she?"

Laura shakes her head. "No, not really."

"She had a really hard life."

You don't know the half of it, Laura thinks to herself, knowing how little Lila actually knew of her aunt's past (and with good reason). "Yeah, she did," she agrees, "but she made the best of what she got. She tried not to look back into the past a lot and instead tried to just enjoy the present."

"I really miss her," Lila says softly after a moment and Laura hears a sniffle.

She squeezes her daughter a little more snugly and presses a kiss to get head. "Me too, sweetheart. But we're living our lives, just like she would've wanted us to, and we're honouring her by remembering all the good times we had with her, and how she impacted us."

"I know," Lila says, resignation clear in her tone, "but I still miss her."

"Yeah, me too," Laura says as she squeezes her daughter even tighter to her and presses another kiss to her head.

"Told you you'd make it," Laura says with a teasing smirk from her place in the doorway to the kitchen, where she's leaning up against the door frame.

"Yeah, well, you clearly had more faith in me than I did," Clint says as he shrugs off his bag, jacket, and boots before making his way over to Laura and wrapping her up in a tight hug before kissing her.

"Mm," she hums appreciatively. She'd missed him while he was gone; she had gotten used to having him around all the time. "Things all sorted?" she whispers as he tucks her head under his chin and hugs her fondly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she says with a smile as she looks up and tugs him down for another kiss.

"Dad!" Lila says as she makes her way down the stairs quickly, jumping off to skip the last few steps and throw her arms around Clint.

"Hey, sweetheart. Told you I'd be home." She looks at him with an arched eyebrow and shakes her head. "What? C'mon, I promised, didn't I?" She just sighs dramatically as she squeezes him tightly once more and then lets go. "Guess you guys got all the decorating done," he says as he glances around. "Looks good."

"Not all of it," Cooper says as he joins them at the bottom of the stairs. Clint reaches out to squeeze his shoulder affectionately and Cooper smiles. He'd never admit it, but he'd been worried about his dad too.

"I see a tree, I see lights," he counts off on his fingers, "I see a gingerbread house," he adds as he leans to one side to get a glimpse of the table in the kitchen. "What did we miss?"

Both kids shift their weight from foot to foot in uncertainty, knowing the answer will probably prompt some sadness in their dad, so Laura opts to answer. "We left Nat's stocking for you to hang up," she tells him with a gentle smile.

"Oh, right. Okay," he says with a slow nod. Laura can see he's trying to be nonchalant about it for the sake of the kids, but after knowing him as long as she has, she can see the cracks in his facade. "Yeah, let's get that up then," he adds and strides past them to the fireplace. Laura watches as he picks up the stocking gently and holds it for a moment before he hangs up alongside the others. He does it carefully, making sure it isn't crooked or offset from the others, before he turns around and offers a smile that she can see is tinged with the all too familiar grief. It may have been two and half years since he'd lost her, but she knows for him the grief had only partially faded. "Now we're ready for Christmas, right?"

All three of them smile in reply, though she knows the kids have certainly picked up on his not totally joyful expression. "You hungry?" she asks after the silence stretches on for a beat too long to not be awkward.

"Yeah, I skipped dinner on the flight. Sketchy looking vegetarian option was all they had left."

"There's some pizza in the fridge from last night you can heat up."

"Great, thanks!" he says as he walks past them and into the kitchen.

"He's not okay, is he?" Lila asks Laura quietly.

"He will be," she assures her daughter. "And don't worry so much, Lila. That's my job," Laura teases gently.

Nate joins them from his room where he'd been playing with some toys, apparently oblivious to his father's arrival back home. "Mommy, can you help me write a letter?"

Laura looks down at her son with a slight furrow in her brow. "You already wrote to Santa… Who are you writing a letter to?"

"Auntie Nat," he declares to their surprise. She sees Lila and Coop exchange a look in her peripheral vision. "Maybe if we put it in her stocking Santa can deliver it to her in heaven."

Laura feels her heart clench at her son's thoughtful gesture. She swallows the lump of emotion that had suddenly lodged in her throat and smiles at her son. "I think that's a great idea, kiddo. Why don't you get out the paper and pencils? We can work on it in the kitchen."

"Okay!" he says, already a few steps out of the room and headed back up to his room to retrieve the supplies.

Lila and Cooper beg off to do some last-minute wrapping of gifts, and Laura is left alone in the den. She goes over to the stockings and takes a moment to flick some dust off Nat's before taking a moment to steady herself. Since she'd seen Cooper pull the stocking out a few days before, she'd felt the subtle weight of Nat's absence and it had been pulling at her in awkward ways. She'd made peace with the loss of her friend and the woman she had considered a sister, but it didn't stop her from missing her and feeling that grief swell inside her from time to time. Maybe not to the degree that Clint was still struggling to find balance, but still...

"Where'd the kids go?"

She turns around and smiles at Clint. "Their rooms. I'm helping Nate with a last-minute project, and Lila and Coop are finishing their wrapping."

"Oh. Need me to do anything?" he asks, and she thinks maybe he feels a little out of the loop. He'd gotten used to being a part of the daily routine and having a finger on the pulse of their lives most of the time too, so this little step outside of that was probably throwing him off a bit.

She glances at the fireplace. They were just about out of wood, having burned through most of the pile Cooper had stocked for them when the temperature had dipped over the past few days. "Could use some wood, I think," she suggests, and he looks grateful for something to do. "It's been cold here the last few days, so we've gone through most of the stack we piled up. Might need some chopped, I'm not sure," she adds. She knows there's plenty chopped already, but she can tell he needs some time to level his emotions out.

"No problem," he says, stepping forward to kiss her again.

"I'm glad you made it home in time," she says again, grabbing his shirt and pulling him in to extend the kiss.

"Me too, babe."

She watches him shrug on his coat and slip his feet into his boots before heading out to the barn. The rumble of Nate's footsteps on the stairs startles her out of her reverie and she makes her way into the kitchen to join him. He's already got one of his notebooks out as well as some pencils, one of which he's diligently sharpening.

"Can you write it for me?" he asks, holding up the newly sharpened pencil and shooting her a pleading look.

"You don't want to try?"

He shakes his head. "I'm still too messy, and I don't know all my words yet."

"Okay," she agrees with a nod of understanding as she slides into the chair next to him. "You tell me what you want to write, and I'll write it for you."

She listens patiently over the next twenty minutes as he dictates a wandering narrative of how he misses her, how he's doing at school and all the new friends he's made, what toys he's been playing with lately, and that he hopes Santa will bring her lots of presents in heaven. She does her best to keep her tears from falling but finds herself swiping every so often at her eyes to wipe them away before Nate can notice. Luckily, he's oblivious, having taken to pacing aimlessly in the kitchen as he speaks. It's a letter filled with love and the innocence of a child who still sees the world in a beautiful, untarnished way despite what he's lived through.

"All done?" she asks when he goes silent for a few beats.

He nods and then sits down next to her at the table again. "Is it good?" he asks shyly.

"Oh, Nate, I think it's perfect," she says with a warm smile as she reaches over to cup his cheek lovingly. "Why don't you draw her a picture? We can put that in the envelope too."

"Okay!" he agrees excitedly as he jumps up from his seat and heads to his room where all his art supplies are stored.

She folds the letter carefully and then gets up to retrieve an envelope from the desk drawer in the office. Finding one under a mess of papers, she slides the letter in and puts it back on the kitchen table. She takes a seat, and with the notebook and pencils still sitting in front of her, she's struck with inspiration to write her own letter to Natasha. She knows there's no way for Nat to ever receive the letter, but she also knows it's healthy and can be beneficial for people to work through their grief by writing a letter to the deceased.

She sighs gently as she picks up a pencil and pulls the notebook over to her.

Nat,

Nate wrote you a letter. He thinks if we put it in your stocking (which we have hung up again this year, of course), Santa will take it and deliver it to you. Sounds a bit odd, I know, but who am I to deny him this comfort? And as I was sitting here staring at the notebook and pencils, I thought...why not? Why not write you something? Even if you never receive it, maybe it would help me sort out my thoughts. And who knows, maybe you're watching me write this and reading over my shoulder. (If you are, back up, would you? This is hard enough without having a ghostly presence over my shoulder. I'll leave it out for you to read after I'm done just in case.)

It's Christmas Eve. I'm sure you remember all the craziness that is the lead up to Christmas in the Barton household. This year's been just as busy and hectic, though with the added wrinkle that Clint took the kids to see a musical in New York a few days ago. But get this - it was a musical about the Avengers. Clint got offered tickets and he was going to decline, but the kids wanted to go, so he accepted. I stayed home to continue the prep for Christmas, plus musicals have never really been my thing… Well, turns out musicals aren't really the thing for any of the Barton family, because apparently they ended up leaving halfway through.

Laura pauses as she considers whether to include Lila's revelation about Clint getting uncomfortable at the sight of Nat's Broadway likeness. "Aw, screw it," she murmurs as she continues writing.

Lila says Clint got a little uncomfortable at your character's parts. She said he got a little emotional at seeing someone dressed up as you. He's not over losing you. Honestly, I don't think he ever will be. I don't tell you this to make you feel guilty, because you have absolutely nothing to feel any guilt over, but to maybe make you understand how much we all miss you. It's not the same around here without you. For a long time, a part of me thought one day you might walk through the door with that smirk of yours. I think maybe a small part of me still feels that way. Most of the time it just doesn't feel real that you're just...not here anymore.

God, Nat. I miss you so much. I don't know if there's any other way to describe how much. I never expected that a former Soviet assassin would end up being someone so important in my life, but I'm so glad you did. I don't know what we did to deserve to have you in our lives, but I'm grateful for getting to have you as a part of this family. I hope that being with us brought you some happiness and some joy, because it absolutely brought us loads. And I really hope that you knew how important to us you were, and how much we all loved you.

Cooper's gotten so tall; he practically towers over me. It's startling to think that he'll be graduating high school soon. Can you imagine? That little boy you once held in your arms is now almost an adult. And he's excited to go out and live his life and forge his own path, I know, but I still see flashes of that little boy from time to time. He's still quiet most of the time, and still enjoys reading (I can thank you for that I think, what with all those books you bought him. He gave some of them to Nate, but he's kept most of them even though he's long since outgrown them. I think he keeps them as a memento of his time with you. I still remember all those times you sat with him on the couch and read with him and I think he does too.) He's doing well in school, though he had a bit of a tough time adjusting at first...most of friends weren't a part of the Blip, so it was a totally new group of kids. He's been amazingly patient with Nate, who absolutely adores him. It's cute to watch the little guy follow him around and see Coop put up with it nicely. (Most of the time anyway.)

Lila's gotten a taste for archery. (We always knew one of them would...looks like you won that bet.) She hasn't kept up with it quite as much lately, but she and Clint will still spend hours shooting in the barn in the warmer weather. She adores spending time with him and is absolutely a Daddy's girl. Clint says she takes after me more than him though, because she's very in tune with noticing people's moods and emotions. He says she's too perceptive sometimes, and he worries that she's growing up too fast because of it. She misses you. She's so proud to be your niece, Nat. She'd tell the entire world if she could. Maybe she could now, I don't know, but she is so grateful to have had you in her life. We all are.

Nate's doing the best out of all of us, I suppose. If you read his letter to you, you know about everything going on with him (sorry it was a little long-winded...I never knew he could be so talkative!) He took the news that he'd missed out on five years like a trooper, and he was sad when we sat him down to explain why you wouldn't be visiting anymore, but he rebounded quickly. Kids tend to do that, you know? I usually catch him asking Lila and Cooper questions about you after one of them mentions you. It was completely his idea to write you that letter by the way...came totally out of the blue, but then I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised. After all, he's got such a big heart. Just like his namesake.

Laura pauses as she puts down the pencil and gets up to make herself some tea. She peers through the window and sees the light in the barn on, so she knows Clint is still occupied and probably chopping some wood, proving her earlier theory that he needed some time to sort through things. When her tea finishes steeping, she decides to have it the way Natasha used to sometimes - piping hot and with a bit of jam stirred in.

She slides back into the chair at the kitchen table and sets down her tea to cool a bit (she'd never mastered the art of drinking hot tea like Nat had) before she picks up the pencil to continue the letter.

Apparently, Clint ran into an unexpected problem on his trip to New York. Someone recovered the Ronin suit from the wreckage of the compound and was selling it along with the sword. Some kid got a hold of it somehow and got recognized while wearing it, so it stirred up some old enemies he made during those five years. You probably remember them - the Tracksuit mafia. (Yeah, those idiots.) Anyway, he's sort of gained a new protege because this kid - Kate - is apparently a massive Hawkeye fan, so he's begrudgingly taken her under his wing. (No, don't laugh, it wasn't an intentional pun.) She's apparently not half bad at archery either, so I think a part of him is absolutely tickled that he inspired someone. I think it's good for him to be recognized for the good he's done.

Speaking of inspiration...well, you should know you've inspired a bunch of people around the world. Natasha was the most popular baby name for girls the year after the Blip, and Nathaniel was also quite popular alongside Anthony for boys. (I would like it on record that we beat everyone else to the punch when we named Nate after you!) People appreciate what you did, Nat, even if they don't know the circumstances. They know if it weren't for you, half the universe would still be dust. Coop showed me some pictures on social media of tributes that have popped up around the world for you - and I have to admit they're pretty impressive. Sort of puts our little memorial for you by the tree out back to shame, really, but the bottom line is: people are acknowledging what you gave up for them. As well they should, even if it's a little late. You've been saving all our asses for years, after all.

I won't get into all my own feelings because I'm hoping you heard me when I talked to you over the last couple of years...including at your funeral. I'm hoping you know how much I miss you, how much I loved you, and how grateful I am that you saved Clint's life (again). And I'm hoping you know that there's a part of me that will always miss you, Nat. Always. Because you were a part of this family. You were like a sister to me.

I miss you, and I love you. And I hope more than anything that you've found peace, because you deserve it after everything you went through in your life. Don't worry about us, we're gonna be okay. Even Clint. I'll make sure of it.

Love,

Laura.

She puts down the pencil and wipes away the tears that had pooled in her eyes before leaning back in her chair and taking a sip of the now pleasantly warm tea.

As promised, she leaves the two pages out, face up for any possible ghostly presence to read as she goes to retrieve an envelope for the letter. Just as she's sealing it closed, Nate appears, holding a colourful piece of paper that he gives her and asks for it to be put into the envelope with his letter. She does exactly that and then they both go over to the stocking, and she puts her letter in before lifting Nate so he can drop his in there as well

"D'you think she'll get them?"

"I sure hope so," she answers as she ruffles his hair. "Now it's just about bedtime, so why don't you get into your pajamas and brush those teeth."

"Okay!" he says happily and heads for the stairs.

Laura is surprised to see Lila holding a folded-up piece of paper at the bottom of the stairs. She glances at her younger brother's disappearing form before she offers a hushed explanation. "I know she won't actually get it...but I just thought…"

Laura holds up a hand to halt the explanation because Lila doesn't owe her one. "I wrote one too. There're envelopes in the desk if you want to seal it. I'm going to grab them before I go to bed tonight and burn them. I promise I won't read yours."

Hours later, Laura sees Clint's gaze catch on Natasha's stocking. The corner of one of the envelopes is sticking up ever so slightly and it's no doubt what caught his eye, prompting him to walk over and reach in to retrieve the envelopes.

"Nate wanted to write her a letter," Laura offers in explanation as she puts down the mugs that she'd been carrying on the coffee table. "He thought Santa could bring it to her in heaven." She sees her husband's expression fall slightly and she tilts her head as her expression shifts to a sad smile. "After I helped Nate write his letter, I wrote one of my own. I know she won't get it, but it felt good to write to her. To tell her all the things I wanted her to know."

He looks down at the envelopes again and ghosts his fingers over them gently, almost reverently, she thinks.

"I figured I'd grab mine and Nate's letters tonight and burn them, so they're gone in the morning, but I didn't expect Lila to write one too."

He stays quiet as he cycles through the envelopes before he holds up one bearing the distinct and nearly indecipherable scrawl of their eldest son. "Coop too, apparently," he says.

She wraps an arm around Clint's shoulders and guides him to sit down on the couch with her, taking the envelopes from his hands and putting them onto the table.

She nudges one of the mugs toward him. "Hot chocolate?" he says in surprise.

"À la Nat," she says with a small smile. Nat had taken to enjoying spiked hot chocolate on Christmas Eve with Laura after the kids had gone to bed, and it had become something of a tradition for them.

"What's this year's poison?" he asks knowingly. He'd never partaken with them, but he'd known their 'secret.'

"We had some spiced rum in the cupboard."

"Oh, Mexican style, huh?"

"How is that Mexican style?" she asks with a soft laugh.

"I dunno, it's spicy?"

Laura smiles at his answer and then leans back into the cushions luxuriously. "For the record, it's not spicy. Just flavourful."

"I'll be the judge of that," he says before taking a sip. He sputters a little bit, clearly not used to it. "God, how did you two drink this?"

"Well, we didn't always use spiced rum."

"Vodka must've made an appearance at some point then," he quips.

Laura rolls her eyes. "We used red wine for one year. That was easily our favourite."

He wrinkles his nose. "Really?"

"Don't knock it 'til you try it."

"Next year maybe," he says. She smiles at the meaning behind his reply: Let's do this again next year.

They lapse into silence then as they each sip at their mugs and enjoy the quiet that's fallen over the house.

"Lila told me she noticed you were getting uncomfortable at the musical," she prompts softly, thinking he probably needed a chance to talk about it. He'd been better about that over the past two years, doing his best to be open about how he was doing. In fact, Laura figures it may be the best communication they'd ever had over the course of their marriage.

He clears his throat roughly before he speaks finally. "She's too smart for her own good sometimes." Laura smiles gently at the familiar phrase from him.

"It's okay to still be grieving her, Clint. There's no timeline for this kind of stuff," she reminds him.

"I know."

"I miss her too. I was thinking the other day about all the Christmases she spent with us."

"We had some good ones, huh?"

"Yeah," she agrees. "Definitely."

He drops his head into his hands, and she sits up and leans over to rub his back comfortingly as she hears his quiet sounds of grief. "I really miss her," he admits roughly. She'd already known it, but him admitting it was important.

"I know," she says softly, leaning her head onto him as she continues to rub his back. "Maybe you should write her a letter too." He shifts and looks at her with a guarded expression. "It felt good to write to her," she assures him. "Maybe it'll help."

He grunts. "Not really a wordsmith."

"You don't have to be. Just write what you'd want her to know. What you'd want to tell her. When you're done, we can burn it along with the others." He looks at her with a skeptical expression, but she just smiles encouragingly. "Try it," she insists. "If it doesn't feel right, you can chuck it in the fire with the others anyway and we can snuggle up here and enjoy our hot chocolates...maybe make out a little," she continues with an impish wink, "and then go to bed so we can get at least some sleep before Nate wakes us up at the crack of dawn."

He shakes his head in amusement at her mischievous suggestion. "Alright, woman. Enough with your underhanded persuasion."

She laughs. "Still got it, huh?"

"You never lost it, babe. You know you've got me wrapped around your finger. Always have."

"Good," she says with a smile as she leans over to peck him on the cheek. "Notebook's on the kitchen table."

"Oh, you meant like, now now?"

"No better time than the present."

"I'll keep your spot warm," she says with a grin as she nudges him forward to stand up, and then curls up where he'd been sitting, wrapping a blanket around herself but keeping her mug safe in her hands.

He returns a little while later, holding a single sheet of paper and an expression filled with uncertainty. "Envelopes are in the desk drawer," she instructs with a nod toward the office. She watches him disappear through the doorway and then hears the scuffles of the drawer opening and the rustling of paper as he digs through to find the envelopes. He returns a moment later, and hands her the now sealed envelope.

"You were right," he admits quietly. "It felt good to talk to her- Well, write to her anyway."

She smiles and then grabs the other envelopes and holds out a hand in a silent request for assistance getting up. They go over to the fire, and she hands him the envelopes. He holds them carefully for a moment and then surprises her when he hears a soft "we miss you, Nat" before he tosses them gently into the fire.

Laura wipes away a tear and tucks herself into his side as they watch the flames curl around the envelopes. "I think we should do this again next year," she says. "Make it annual thing."

"Yeah," he agrees softly. "Good idea."

This all came about with the thought that maybe someone would want to write a letter to Nat. And it somehow got a Christmas setting...

As always, let me know your thoughts - I do so enjoy getting to see what you think/feel.

Also - for more Clint feels, check out my American Pie one shot that I posted a week or so ago.