"There is no part of this movie that is not perfect."
Clint snuggled back into the cheerful red, white, and green knitted Christmas throw on the recliner that he was actually sitting in rather than perching atop. He let out a contented sigh and bit the head off an iced sugar cookie in the shape of Santa, his third for the evening.
"It's… nice," Steve agreed a little uncertainly as he took a sip of hot chocolate, coming away with a slight marshmallow mustache.
"Let me guess," Tony said, grinning. "Was it the language that bothered you?
"No," Steve said. "Believe it or not, I'm a war veteran, not a pearl-clutching society matron."
"Yeah, right," Tony said.
"I'm gonna go with Steve here," Nat said, taking a swig of her eggnog. "He didn't bat an eye during Clark's speech about what he wanted to tell his boss. I watched him."
"Then what?" Tony asked.
"Clark's got a really nice wife," Steve said. "I didn't like the whole thing with the checkout girl in the store."
"And kind of out of character for the world's biggest family man," Clint said, nodding thoughtfully. "Okay, Steve, you did find one part of the movie that's less than perfect. But the rest of it?"
"Yeah, the rest was pretty darn funny," Steve said, smiling.
Tony mouthed the word "darn" sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"Am I the only one who wants to know what would happen if we sprayed down your shield with cooking oil and went sledding?" Bruce asked Steve.
"Ooo, good one," Tony said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Cap, you up for that?"
"This thing has withstood direct hits from a tank, an alien invasion, and Peggy shooting at me at point blank range," he said, giving the shield an affection pat. "I think it'll survive some sledding."
Tony cheered happily and pumped his arm in the air.
"Thor, what do you think? Wanna bet who clocks the fastest speed?" Tony asked, glancing behind him and immediately looking stunned.
The two Asgardians had chosen the back row of the theater this time, or rather Loki had, and about halfway through, Thor had got up to get another slab of gingerbread cake and never returned to his spot towards the front of the room. To everyone's shock, he was sitting next to Loki, who looked like he'd just finished watching a tragedy of epic proportions and was quietly sobbing into his brother's shoulder. He looked up, realized he was the center of attention, his eyes became enormous, and he immediately disappeared without even the usual showy green sparkles.
"What the hell?" Clint asked, staring at the vacant spot.
"Is he okay?" Pepper asked.
"Is that why he wasn't throwing food at me?" Steve asked. "I kept thinking something was up."
"Yeah, he was being way too quiet," Tony said. "Of course, he was also quiet when we watched Home Alone, but that was because he was taking notes, which is its own level of disturbing."
"I believe my brother was reminded of our father's rather less attentive parenting style," Thor said. "Somewhere around the point when Clark was decking the house with lights with the aid of his younger child, he began to become rather emotional. I think the scene with Clark's father saying he did not expect perfection and he was still valued in spite of his mistakes was his undoing."
"That's… actually really depressing," Pepper said. "Should someone go check on him or something?"
"I think he would prefer not to discuss this further," Thor said.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Clint said with a look that said the exact opposite, but Nat kicked him hard in the shin. "Okay, fine, no problem, don't want to end up on the naughty list."
"I get it. My dad wasn't exactly the type to put in a pool for Christmas either," Tony said, then paused. "Let me take that back. I think he actually did do that one year. He just spent about ten times as much, never bothered to show up on Christmas morning for the big reveal, and then when he got home, he forgot my name. Again."
"You have issues," Nat said, regarding him without blinking.
"My dad's cool," Clint said, shrugging. "No complaints."
"Why do we even talk to you?" Tony said, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. What it was laced with was anybody's guess. "Let me guess. You probably put up more lights on the old farmhouse than Clark did. Am I right?"
"Not quite," Clint said. "Laura sets limits. She says she doesn't want the house visible from the moon, so I try to keep it reasonable."
"Party pooper," Tony said. "Anyway, who's up for that sledding experiment? Central Park, maybe?"
"I'm in," Nat said, downing the last of her eggnog.
"As am I," Thor said. "I shall see if my brother wishes to join us."
He opened the door of the room, took one step, and immediately his feet went out from under him as he slid on a patch of ice in the hallway, followed by being hit in the head with a paint can on a string (paint color: emerald green, natch).
"Loki!" Thor bellowed, calling Mjolnir to him as thunderclouds started to form inside the penthouse. "I am going to kill you! Again!"
"What would that be? Three times now? Four?" Tony asked as he watch Thor run down the hallway, yelling a battle cry, while Loki's laughter bounced around every corner of Stark Tower, making it impossible to tell exactly where he was.
"According to a chat I had with him once, he's died at least thirty-five times," Bruce said.
"Well, everybody needs a hobby," Nick said, walking out of the kitchen with a bottle of cooking oil in his hand.
"How? What?" Tony said.
"It's what I do," Nick said.
"You want dibs on the first ride downhill?" Tony asked.
"Do I look like an idiot to you? I'm recording this and sending it to Shuri. For research purposes, of course."
And if the next day Tony spent half the morning trying to catch a dozen or more squirrels that had invaded his Christmas tree, and somehow mysteriously that too was filmed and sent to Wakanda, no one was surprised.
A.N. I made a small change to the original chapter. The line about having a cool dad was originally Bruce's. I had no idea that Bruce's father is canonically abusive, particularly in the comics, so the one change that was made was changing that line to Clint.