From: procrastinatingmushroomfangirl in

Idea: wrong number texts.

Special Request: Embarrassing start.

You know, when I was a kid I wanted to be a genie. [Man Genie emoji]

Natasha blinks at her phone, her brow low in confusion. She spends a minute deliberating between answering or continuing with her report. In the end, her curiosity gets the better of her and she saves the file, shuts down the laptop and grabs her phone, throwing herself onto the couch as she answers.

Ok, I'll bite: why?

Well, I saw this really cool movie with a genie and he was awesome and made tricks and could fly and grant wishes!

And I thought, 'Hey, I wanna do that!'

Natasha snorts, typical Steve. Since she's known him, he always opens up their conversations with a weird quip –'I spent five months thinking that the poop emoji was actually chocolate ice cream' or 'did you know that some monkeys prostitute themselves in exchange of parasite cleaning?'–. Oh, and a dumb emoji; can't forget that.

Really now? Didn't you want to be a firefighter or a vet like all the normal kids?

Well, I wasn't normal, so no. [Winking Face With Tongue emoji]

Natasha shakes her head in fond exasperation and smiles to her screen.

Anyway, anything new?

Not really. Boss #2 is being a pain in the ass (as always, so no surprise there), and the kids are doing excellent.

Here, wait.

She opens the albums and selects one of the videos of Wednesday's class, makes sure that there aren't any faces visible and sends it to him. She has loved ballet since she was a kid; had it been possible, she would've danced even before she walked. Unfortunately, not many can pursue a dancing career, so she went to law school instead and kept ballet as a hobby. And for five years she's been doing so in a youth center for disadvantaged kids that can't pay for extracurricular activities. She also volunteers in a nursing home, teaching the senior citizens how to shake their hips to the beat.

Wow! They're getting good! You going to do a recital on Christmas?

Natasha sighs sadly. She really would like that, but unfortunately it wouldn't be possible. If the parents couldn't pay for the classes, they couldn't pay for all the things a recital needed.

I don't think so. The parents don't have the money and it's too much for me alone. It's fine with just the shoes and the leotards, but I can't pay for a recital.

Maybe I'll just make them get everything cleaned up, I'll do something fancy with their hairs, makeup and we'll do a small performance for their parents.

Steve takes almost a minute to respond, so Natasha uses the time to get a glass of water from the kitchen. When she returns, his answer is waiting for her.

I'm sure that would make them really happy! You should try!

Yeah, I'll ask the kids tomorrow what they think about it.

The rest of their conversation is about their next movie night and what film should they watch. In the end, they decide on The Christmas Chronicles; you know, to start with the Christmas' spirit!

By the time they say their 'goodbye's, it's almost midnight and Natasha chastises herself for loosing track of time. Tomorrow she has to get up early and go to the office to finish with her report for Pepper and then she has to spend practically the entire day glued to Tony to make sure he doesn't say anything stupid in front of the judge. Really, they don't pay her nearly enough. If she manages to get through the day without strangling Tony, she'll ask for a raise.

"– and remember to work on the life portraits during the weekend, I want the rough drafts on my desk by Tuesday maximum! Oh, and if you can get Christmas into it you'll get an extra point!" the class nods almost in sync and starts gathering their supplies just as the bell rings. His students walk out in groups, talking to themselves about where they're going on Christmas and who o what will be their model for the project. He goes about gathering his own supplies and covering his drawing, the one he'd made to show the class what they should look for.

"Mr. Rogers?" he looks up and sees one of his best students. Lucas is a very talented and hard-working boy, or young man given that he's almost eighteen. He makes a questioning sound to let him know that he's listening and continues setting his pencils in their case. "Could you give me some ideas on what to draw, please? I know what I have to do and how to do it, but I don't really know on what I should focus on." And that's his problem. If an artist doesn't have an inspiration, a muse of any kind, then it doesn't matter how hard they work or how talented they are, their work won't have the feeling and depth it needs. Steve sighs and looks at the boy with sympathy.

"Still haven't found it yet?" Lucas takes in a deep breath and shakes his head sadly.

"I just… I can't think of anything more I could do! I go to the parks like you told me, I let myself get lost in the nature; I went to Manhattan and tried the city and it still didn't work! I don't know what to do anymore, Mr. Rogers!" The boy combs his fingers through his long hair and pulls in frustration. Steve observes him silently for a few seconds before circling his desk and uncovering his drawing again before perching himself on the edge of the desk.

"Have I ever told you guys that I was in the army?" Lucas' eyes go wide and he shakes his head slowly, lowering his bag pack to the ground and mimicking Steve's posture on the closest table. "Started at eighteen and got out when I was twenty-five: three tours, five medals and half a year in a coma. When I woke up, my best friend was dead and I had to go back to live with my mother because I couldn't take care of myself. Drawing was the only thing that I could do on my own, but the problem was that I had no inspiration, no reason to draw. And then I met someone." He pauses briefly, his cheeks heating up slightly at the memory before setting it aside for the moment. "She came into my life with a completely fresh outlook on life and it's meaning and showed me that even in the darkest hour of the night, there's still light." Lucas looks like a little boy, eyes full of wonder and mouth open in amazement. He' completely riveted by the story, and Steve can't help but smile. "A couple of months later, I was looking for apartments and studying to become a teacher. That's her." He nods to the drawing: a woman, surrounded by little blurred bodies, dressed in tights and a leotard and holding a simple ballet pose for the surrounding children to copy. "She's my muse, and she made me see that the entire world can be it too if I just look at it with the right eyes. What I'm trying to tell you is that you can't give up. Get out there, find something that makes you feel or someone interesting and try. Never stop trying, Lucas, because if you do, then you might miss your chance and you'll loose the spark completely."

Lucas stays silent for a few seconds, takes in a deep breath and nods, a determined look taking over his features. He smiles at Steve.

"Thank you, Mr. Rogers. I won't give up! You'll see, I'll make the best portrait of the class!" and with that he jumps up, gifts him with a smiles that could light up a stadium and runs out with his back pack bouncing behind.

Steve shakes his head affectionately and continues tiding his desk. Before he covers his drawing, he snaps a picture an sends it with a 'Guess who? [See-No-Evil Monkey emoji]'. Then he cleans the board and gets out, locking the class behind him. He had to confiscate a phone from one of the kids from 1st of ESO*, and it'll stay in the drawer until his parents come get it. As it is, the boy will spend the weekend without a phone. He could take it to the principal, but the woman has probably left already so he won't even bother. He walks down the hallway, down the stars and out the door, waving at the concierge when he opens it for him.

"See you Monday, Bill!" the elderly man returns the sentiment and salutes him. he smiles and salutes him back. He makes his way towards his bike, mounts, secures his helmet and twists the key in the contact. It roars to life just as his phone dings in his pocket. He pauses and takes it out, chuckling at Natasha's text.

Is that me?! [Face Screaming In Fear emoji] (I always use this one for astonishment; like, when I'm super surprised)

Yep. You like?

Like? Steve, I love it!

It's amazing!

It's not finished, though. I still have to paint it.

A-ma-zing.

His cheeks turn rosy and he decides it's because it's cold instead of the warm feeling her approval gives him. he sends her the Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes emoji and returns the phone to his pocket. He reeves the engine and drives away from the school, not looking when he hears some of the youngest students, the ones still in primary, wowing behind him. He smiles and reeves it again, raising a hand to salute them and then he speeds away.

He sees them jumping and waving from the rearview mirror just as he turns the street.

"What are you smiling at?" Natasha's head shots up and she presses her phone to the table before plastering an overly innocent smiles on her lips.

"Nothing, just one of those cute cat pictures." Really, Natasha? You know how to lie better than that!

"Really, now?" Pepper raises her eyebrow and Natasha chuckles.

"It's Steve." Pepper's smile morphs into a smirk and she leans over, moving her plate aside to have more room.

"Porn star slash school teacher Steve?" Natasha snorts and covers her mouth as she coughs.

"I told you, he's not a porn star!" she laughs once she gets her coughing fit under control.

"Well, he should be! I still have wet dreams about that picture." Natasha snorts but stays silent. She would be lying if she said she didn't either.

She had 'met' Steve about three years ago, and it all had been because he'd typed the wrong number in his new phone and instead of sending the picture of himself straight out of the shower to his therapist –whatever that was about–, he send it to her. Unfortunately, for him, by the time he noticed that she wasn't his shrink she'd already seen the picture. She'd seen the scars across his abdomen, the jagged lines and puckered skin. And, much to his surprise and embarrassment, she'd answered with a 'That's hot, you have another one? [Winking Face With Tongue and Smirking Face emoji]'.

And that's how it all started. Their relationship had developed from there and now, even though they still haven't seen each other face to face, she can say that he's her best friend; right after Clint of course.

"You know, Tony is having dinner right now with a friend of his from school," comments Pepper after she swallows a bite of her steak.

"So?"

"Well, his name's Steve and he was in the army too." Natasha raises an eyebrow and blinks, lowering her fork back to her plate.

"You don't think…" there's a tense silence for almost a minute before they snort in laughter. "Nah… what are the chances of that happening!"

"– Tony, slow down or you'll choke!" laughs Steve, his eyes filled with merriment as he tries to pry the tankard of beer with Thor's help from the man's hand and failing miserably, both from the death grip the billionaire has on it and their clumsy fingers. Despite his best intentions on being the responsible one tonight and stay sober, Tony had managed to get the bartender to spike his soda without him knowing and by the time he realized, he was already buzzed and didn't have enough functional brain cells to complain.

Tony slams the tankard on the bar and releases a guttural and satisfied belch that echoes around the bar and makes his crowd go wild. Thor giggles uncontrollably and keeps trying to steal the ginormous glass from Tony even though it's already empty. Steve laughs along and leans on the bar, lowering Tony's arm before he can ask for another one.

"No more, Tony, or your wife will kill you!" he's laughing, though, as if the thought is hilarious. He still hasn't met the woman, but from what Tony's told him she's pretty awesome.

"She won't find out, she's out with Natasha!" giggles Tony, finally letting go of the tankard and Thor almost falls over.

"Natasha is so scary!" pipes in the man, brushing his long hair aside and letting his face fall to the bar with a wet slap. Steve smiles dreamily.

"I have a friend named Natasha, too!" his eyes glaze over and his smile widens even more. "She's amazing…" he sighs, his chest heaving with the intake of breath.

"Someone's in love!" screams Tony then, pumping his fists in the air and making the crowd cheer along with him. Steve goes red all over and tries to make himself as small as he can. Which isn't much given that he's a towering mass of muscle.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, my friend!" hoots Thor from his place, finally rising his face from the bar and grinning at him. his cheek is covered in some kind of half-dried alcohol and it makes his beard look all spiky. "Love is the best feeling in the world!"

"Yeah!" shouts the crowd as one. The music changes to a ballad, and everyone cheers at the DJ. The party moves to the dance floor, but the trio stay seated on the now mostly deserted bar. They stay silent for a second and suddenly Steve's phone chimes. The other two turn to him as he takes it out and reads over the text. A big, happy grin lights up his face and he unlocks the phone to answer.

"How long did you say you've been dating this woman?" Steve looks up and bushes again.

"She-She's not my girlfriend! We're not dating!" he shakes his head so fast Thor gets dizzy and Tony crosses his arms, then uncrosses them and grabs the bar before he tips over. He looks as Steve goes back to texting and a mischievous smirk appears on his face.

"Well, we're gonna have to change that, don't you think?" Steve looks up, confused.

"Wha–?" before he can finish, Tony snatches the phone out of his hands and fiddles with it, trying to find her contact info. "Tony, don't! give that back!" he tries to get up but immediately staggers back. "Oh, boy… I shouldn't have done that last sound of shots…"

Meanwhile, Tony enters the contact list and searches until he finds one labeled 'Nat [Smiling Face With 3 Hearts]'. He enters and presses call. Steve's eyes go wide when he sees Tony putting the phone over his ear.

"Tony, don't–!"

"Hello?"

"Heya, beautiful!" he slurs, a big grin on his face.

"Tony?"

… and the grin falls flat.

Natasha blinks, mouth open in surprise. Pepper frowns, confused as to why Tony would call Natasha.

"Natasha?!" there's a distinct slur in his words, and Natasha frowns.

"Are you drunk?" Pepper sighs in frustration and raises her arm to ask for the check.

"Wha–? No! No, of course not!" Natasha nods at Pepper and doesn't protest when the blonde swipes her card over the scan and types in her password. She's paying with the company card, so she doesn't really care.

"Tell me where you are, we're coming to get you." She changes they phone to the other ear as she puts on her coat and grabs her purse.

"You don't need to come, we're fine!" he pauses for a second before speaking again. "No, wait, come! I want you to meet someone!" he rattles the address and hangs up. Natasha frowns at the black screen and huffs in annoyance. "He's at i15, lets go." They hail a cab and spend the entire fifteen minute ride complaining about Tony and the things they do for him. pepper at home and at work and Natasha just at work.

"Yeah, you win." Relents Natasha with a laugh after her friend and boss tells her about what Tony did to their kitchen a few months ago. The taxi stops in front of the bar and Natasha passes her card over the scan. Pepper frowns until Natasha shows her that it's the one from Stark Industries. They exit the car and share a determined look before entering the bar.

The first thing they see is the congregation of people around a table, most likely two guys trying to drink the other under the table. They start heading towards it, convinced that one of them is Tony, when someone hoots at them from the bar. They turn to see the man in question waving enthusiastically at them, face flushed and a big grin on his lips. There's a big figure slumped at his right, long, blond hair all over the place and at the other side there's another one, but he's hidden by Tony's body.

"Tony, we have a flight tomorrow!" starts Pepper, marching forward with a frown marring her features.

"I know! That's why I didn't drink much! See? I was a good boy!" he grins up at her, tilting his head to the side as if expecting a congratulations pat.

"So what? You compensated and you gave the alcohol to them?" this time is Natasha, and she motions at the men at his side. Tony grins, unrepentant.

"Mostly Steve, Thor already drinks more than I do." Thor groans at his side and he leans over to pat his back before he apparently remembers something and his whole face lights up. He grins at Natasha and motions at the pitiful blob that is Steve with a flourish. "Natasha, let me introduce you to my high school friend Steve, former army Captain, he now works at Saint Oak Reeks School as the head teacher of the Arts Department and has an affliction for old movies and pencil-drawn ballerinas."

Natasha's mouth drops open and he stares at the back of Steve's neck for what seems like ages before Pepper nudges her and she snaps out of it.

"Nat, shock later, now let's get this goofs out of here." The bartender comes over and tells them that he's already called Thor's girlfriend and that he'll look for him until she gets here, so Pepper sets about grabbing Tony and nods at Steve. Natasha gives her a pleading look but her friend ignores and starts heading out. She hesitates for a second before approaching and coaxing him to put his arm around her and rise to his feet. He stagers at first but rights himself in the next second, taking some of his weight off of her. She may be strong, but the man towers over her by a head and some and probably doubles her in weight, so she appreciates it.

"C'mon, big guy, let's get you home." She grits out and starts leading him out. She nods at the bartender and he returns it, patting Thor's back to let her know he'll watch over him. The first burst of air make her shiver and Steve's head turns. He presses his nose to her hair, inhaling deep and then letting it rest over her head.

"You smell nice…" he mumbles sleepily and Natasha smiles. Pepper waves her over and nods at the waiting cab.

"Go ahead, he already has Steve's address. Pay the guy with the company card, alright?" Natasha hesitates and Pepper is quick to reassure her. "Don't worry, we'll catch the next one. Tony is more aware than Steve anyway, and Steve is much bigger, you already have a bead of swat rolling down your temple." Natasha laughs, bids her bosses good night and moves Steve into the cab before entering herself.

Steve, still half asleep, merely mumbles something she doesn't understand and cuddles to her once she takes the seat at his side. She nods to the cabbie to get going and the engine rumbles to life. She sees Pepper waving at her and Stark outright laughing at the way Steve is curling around her. Normally she would get out of the embrace, but this was Steve; sweet, talented, supportive Steve. And ok, maybe that had been a front and he was actually like Tony, but that just didn't add up. They'd been talking with each other for three years, and not once had he tried to make an actual meeting or tried to get her picture. Sure, she'd sent him videos but not ever was there a face shown and he'd never said anything. And he has her phone number, if he was actually a creep he could've tracked her phone.

"We're here." Announces the cabbie as he stops in front of an apartment complex. She thanks him, pays him and then helps Steve out of the car.

She has to search in his pockets for the keys and when she finds them she tries two before she finds the right one. She pushes the door open with her foot and it's then when she realizes that she has no idea which floor is his and then the apartment he lives in. she ponders texting Pepper for the information, but then Steve would probably fall over without the added support of her hand. She presses the button for the elevator and pats his cheek.

"Hey, Steve. Tell me your floor." He grumbles and presses his face to her hair. "C'mon Steve, floor."

"Tenth… third door." she presses the button once the elevator arrives and fiddles with the keys until she jams the right one in the lock and twists.

She doesn't know what she expected, but it certainly isn't this. The apartment is pretty barren in regards to furniture, but the walls are filled with works of art and by the style, she's certain most of them are his. She sees the door to the kitchen off to the side but ignores it in favor of the hallway that most likely leads to the bedroom. She rearranges Steve's arm around her and starts moving down the hall. The first door is clearly an art studio, and she sees something that catches her eye but decides to get the man into bed first before snooping around his home. She continues, ignoring the open door to the bathroom and finally to the last one. His bedroom is as tidy as the rest of the apartment, the bed neatly made and a picture of an older woman on the nightstand, probably his mother. There's also one of a teenaged Steve with his arms around another boy, both smiling brightly at the camera. That must be Bucky, his childhood best friend that he'd lost in Iraq.

She shakes those thoughts out of her head and focuses on the task at hand. She moves the pillows to the side of the bed and the covers down so they don't get caught underneath him once he lays down. She makes him sit, takes his jacket and sweatshirt before he drops down, a soft snore leaving his nose. She has to repress her laughter as she gets him out of his shoes and hesitates for a moment before unbuttoning his jeans. He rises his hips instinctively when she tugs them off and doesn't even give herself the opportunity to look before she's moving his legs onto the bed and covering him with the covers. He snuggles down into the pillows and releases a small, contented sigh.

She goes to the bathroom and searches for a wash basin in case he throws up. Once she finds it, she puts it at the side of his bed. And then she figures is time to snoop. She feels slightly guilty for doing so, but she'll probably be sore in a few hours from having carried that man around town, so he kinda owes her. She pokes around his room first, but there's nothing of interest so she more to the studio.

He has three easels set about the room, the first is merely a sketch, rough lines of pencil across the canvas. The svelte figure of a cat stretched on its hind legs and reaching with a font paw to the small hand offered to it, the other kipping it steady on the bench leg. She can see the outline of a few trees behind, so she assumes that this is something he's seen on the park, a child talking so a stray cat.

The second canvas is half finished, there's color here and there and there's parts that you can still see some pencil lines. It's the same woman form the picture in his nightstand, the one she assumes is his mother. She's curled in a couch, a book open in her lap and a streaming cup at her side. Her blonde hair is pilled at the top of her head in a messy bun and a few tendrils have escaped their prison, curling around her ear and over her cheek.

And then there's the last one. Her breath catches in her throat; it's her. It's a view from her back and her face's half turned so you can see the profile of her face, the way her green eyes sparkle at the little boy mimicking her pose and the dazzling smile she sends his way. The boy is blurred, as is everything that isn't her. Her hair is up in a braided ponytail and she's dressed in her Bolshoi issued leotard. This must be from the vid she'd sent him last month, the one she hadn't checked to make sure that her face wasn't visible. Oh, well, he'll meet her in the morning anyway, so there's no need to think about it now.

She gazes at the painting for a few more seconds before moving to the desk. There's a thick stack of papers at the side, and she leafs through them. Exams… huh, she'd never known that you could do tests on art that weren't theoric, but apparently Steve managed to do so. And his students are pretty good too. He must be an amazing teacher. She leaves the tests as they were and concentrates on the sketch pad that takes over the center of the desk. The cover's leather bound and his name's engraved on it; it must've been a gift, probably from his mother. Yeah, it looks like something a mother would give to her only child. She opens it the first thing she finds is a portrait of his mother with a Santa hat. Cute. She turns page after page, finding beautiful landscapes and graceful animals. Then there's a bunch of ripped off pages, as if he got an artist's block for some time and then the almost 99% of the things he draws is her. Really, if he hadn't already told her that she was his main muse, she would be a little creeped out.

Deciding that she's snooped enough, Natasha closes the sketchbook and goes to the living room. The couch looks comfortable enough and she has no intention of leaving until they have a good talk. Face to face this time.

Steve wakes up with a pounding headache and barely any recollection of the previous night. He remembers going to the bar with Thor and Tony, a big tankard of beer and then honey and cinnamon. Huh… that's odd, he doesn't think they ate anything with honey and cinnamon last night. But then again, he doesn't remember squat so maybe they did. He turns to get up and doesn't even question the glass of water with an aspirin that are resting on his bedside table. He pops the aspirin in his mouth and drinks the entire glass before setting it on the wooden table. He looks around the room before getting up, slowly, and absentmindedly kicking the basin aside as he walks out of the room. He doesn't question what's it doing in his bedroom instead of in the bathroom or why all the curtains are drawn shut, letting inside a small portion of the light outside. He doesn't even notice anything until the smell of coffee reaches his nose drills, followed by honey and cinnamon.

He stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide and a leg raised mid step. He takes the last steps to the living room slowly and peeks around the corner. He doesn't see anything amiss, everything is where it should be. Well, except the streaming mug of coffee that's practically screaming his name perched invitingly on the dinning table. He walks to it as if he's being led by the smell. He picks it up reverently, inhales deeply and when he looks inside he notices that it's already half empty.

He tenses up, his senses sharpening. He lowers the cup back to the table. He looks around and listens for anything suspicious. And then there's the distinctive sound of sizzling bacon before the smell fills the air. With silent steps, he walks to the kitchen, and he thinks about grabbing something to defend himself with but he doesn't think a thief would be so stupid to stay over for breakfast.

He really doesn't know who he expected to find cooking in his kitchen, maybe his mother, she "breaks" in sometimes and leaves him dinner done on those days he has to stay at the school later. Or maybe Thor, the guy usually crashes at his place after a night out but then again, he doesn't get up earlier than him to cook. Either way, he most definitely doesn't expect a red head donned in only one of his army shirts, one hand turning the bacon and the other holding her phone, probably texting someone.

"Good morning." He almost jumps out of his skin at her voice. He makes a little, strangled shriek that's immediately followed by her laughter. She has a beautiful laugh. "Do you mind setting the table?" he nods mutely, not that she can see him with her eyes moving from the food to her phone. He starts opening cabinets and taking out plates and glasses. Then he opens a drawer and gets the cutlery. "Did you take the aspirin?"

He looks at her for a few seconds before offering a soft, "yes". She nods, satisfied, and gets the bacon out of the pan. That's when he notices the grilled cheese and pancakes resting innocently at her side. He takes those to and sets them on the table.

"Um… ok, I know I'm going to sound like a dick but: who are you?" to his surprise, she laughs again before turning. Her eyes are like infinite fields of dark green, sparking up at him and her smile is wide.

"You don't remember anything from last night, do you?" he tries to think as she sets the plates and rummages around his fridge, taking out the orange juice. She moves around his kitchen as if it's her own.

"Not really. I don't usually drink that much but Tony spiked my sodas." She snorts and motions for him to take a seat. She puts the plat with bacon and pancakes in front of him and she takes the grilled cheese for herself.

"Typical Tony. He tried to do that to me once but he forgot that I can hold alcohol better than he does." She takes a bite of her sandwich and pours juice in both glasses. "He ended up throwing up everything, it was hilarious." She chuckles, most likely remembering the day and Steve takes a big bite of the pancakes.

"So… who are you?" Natasha smiles and points with her half empty glass towards the hall.

"You tell me, I'm all over your studio." Steve's fork pauses somewhere between his mouth and the plate, his mouth open and his eyes just as wide. Natasha holds her laughter for almost a full minute before she can't hold it anymore and she cackles, almost falling off her chair.

"Natasha?" she looks up, whipping tears with the back of her fingers and nodding, extending her hand towards him and gifting him a shit eating grin.

"Natasha Romanoff, nice to meet you." Steve remains in his stunned stupor for a few more seconds before he returns her grin and grabs her hand.

"Steve Rogers."

BONUS:

Steve rises from his seat with the rest of the rather small crowd and claps along, his eyes bright with pride as he gazes at the redheaded woman on the stage as she motions the children forward for the collective bow. She grabs the youngest, a pair of four-year-old twins and points them towards their parents, the little boy clutching tightly at her hand and waving shyly while his sister jumps up and down as waves at her family. She then gathers them all close and they all shout together, "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!"

There are a couple of whistles from the back and everybody continues clapping as the kids jump down from the stage and run to their parents, their faces sparkling with joy. And glitter; so much glitter. He waits patiently as parents come up to thank her. He clutches his bag of gifts and goes to her the moment the father she's talking to goes back to his kids. He really needs to do this before anyone can leave.

"Nat, that was amazing!" he gives her a hug and a quick peck. "Could you gather the kids back, I brought them something." She shakes her head fondly and brings her hand to her mouth, whistling to get everybody's attention.

"Kids, come back here for a sec, please! Steve has something for you!"

"Steve!"

"Steve, you're here!"

"Steve, Steve!"

A marabunta of kids comes running from all over the small stadium to where they are and practically throw Steve to the ground. There aren't that many, only twenty-five kids, but the oldest four are fifteen and the rest varies and even though most are small for their age, they have enough muscle power to take on an adult. The parents laugh at Steve's predicament, surrounded by two dozen children coveting for his attention.

"Steve, did you see me?"

"I did awesome, didn't I, Steve?"

"Steve, pick me up!"

"Do you like our hair, Steve?"

"Did you like the dance, Steve?"

"And the decorations, do you like them, Steve?"

"What did you bring us, Steve?"

"Guys, please! Let the man breathe!" manages to say Natasha in her laughter. They quiet down and Steve takes a deep breath before pointing at one of the boys.

"Yes, I saw you, Benny–" he point at another, this time a girl. "–and yes, Carla, you did awesome." He points to another girl. "Sorry, Paula, not right now and Oscar–" his finger flies to one of the younger boys. "Your hair is amazing, I love it. Lisa–" the oldest girl. "The dance was the best thing I've ever seen and I even got a friend up there recording it so I and anyone who wants can watch it again whenever they want." He points up at the little loft where the equipment for the special effects is and a man with glasses and a goatee salutes them from behind a camera. "and the decorations were made by me, so of course they're fabulous." The kids laugh at his over the top, snotty voice. "And I brought you the special Christmas sweets from my Ma's bakery." The kids cheer and try to get closer. "Hold it there, cowboys! Five meters behind and I'm calling your name." Natasha and the parents watch amused as the kids obey immediately and wait patiently as Steve calls them one by one as he takes little boxes with two chocolate truffles with red and green sprinkles and a cookie shaped either like a tree or a present. "And finally but not least, Billy, Dave and Helen," the tree approach, their little faces a little more subdued than the others. "Hey, what's with the long faces? Did you really think I'd forget?" he grins down at little Billy and gives him the box. "For you, gluten free." His smile practically lights up the entire room and he gives Steve a big hug and a kiss. Then he turns to the siblings and gives them their boxes. "And for you two, low on sugar. But don't you worry, they're still plenty sweet." They hug him too and wish him happy holidays before returning to their parents.

"That was really sweet of you, soldier." Comments Natasha as they walk down the street towards his mother's house. They'll be having Christmas dinner there given that his mother loves Natasha more than him. When he'd called her out on it, Natasha had just smirked and hugged herself to his mother, plastering their cheeks together and they both grinned at him.

"They'll love even more the little drawings I made for each of them. I hid them beneath the sweets. I had them laminated and I put a little note behind that said 'turn me!' to make sure they don't miss it." Natasha looked up at him for a second before stopping him and kissing him with all the love she held for him. Since they'd started dating, he'd moved his sketching afternoons to the center. The kids had loved him immediately and he had a full sketch book of only the children dancing. He gave some to the parents to keep, but the rest he saved for his portfolio. He planned on getting everything in some kind of book, sell it and donate everything that came out of it to the center.

"You really are something else, aren't you?" Steve just smiles and blushes. He blames the cold.

"It really wasn't any trouble, just a doodle an Ma makes me a discount for those. I just thought that they won't get much for Christmas, so a little something wouldn't hurt." He shrugs, it really wasn't that much trouble and it put a smile in their little faces, so the one hundred dollars he spent on sweets and the two and a half hours he spent last week making the little personalized drawings were completely worth it.

Natasha gives him another look just as they ring the doorbell to his mother's and she opens the door to a world of sweets and love. He looks as his mother kisses his girlfriend and frets over her for being too skinny. He watches as her eyes twinkle with joy and Steve thinks there's nothing better than this.

There really isn't.

So sorry, I wanted to get this on the 25th but I forgot my computer charger at home and I was at my uncle's and his house is three hours away, so I only managed to get a little done before the computer died. I came last night and I just finished, so I'm getting this out to you.

And, I'll let you know that I Googled the name of the emoji just so you wouldn't mistake them. Be grateful, guys! XD, just kidding.

*Sorry, guys, but I'm feeling too lazy to try and make the transition form Catalan to whatever, so I'm giving you a crash course: compulsory school is divided in two sections: primary and secondary. Primary are six years, from age six to twelve; secondary –also known as ESO: Escola Secundària Obligatòria– is four, from twelve to sixteen. And then you have the option to do Batxillerat –that's what I'm doing and it's two years (sixteen to eighteen)–, you can do a degree in something or start working. If you do Batxillerat, once you finish you go to university and if you do the degree, after the years it lasts –it depends on what you choose– you can go to university or start working.

I know not many of you care, but if somebody has any questions don't hesitate to ask.

Clue for the next one: it involves anesthesia.

Anyway, Happy holiday (whatever it is you celebrate, in my case is Christmas) and Happy New Year, guys! Hope you're having the best time and I love you all!