Notes: In which Loki and his friends finally learn about Festivus. I apologize to anyone who celebrates this holiday if I have gotten the details mixed up. Although some of them are mixed up on purpose. Also, I have no idea about the topography of Brooklyn or Bristol, in case a couple of throwaway lines turn out to be inaccurate.

Also, I have been unable to find out whether "crazy carpet" is a term used outside Canada, so let's just pretend Tony has connections, yes?

Warnings: In case we need some.

Chapter Eight

Pepper came down early the following morning, in pajamas and a bright green robe, her hair caught up in a messy ponytail. She made her way to the kitchen to start the coffee-

"Good morning," said a chorus of voices, as Pepper walked in.

"Oh- good morning," she replied, looking around at Mitchell, George, Loki, Annie, Thor, and Jane at the table. They were already eating breakfast (oatmeal, oatmeal, fruitcake, nothing, oatmeal with fruitcake, and toast respectively) and, despite their own pajamas and robes (except of course for Annie) they somehow managed to look as though they had been up for a considerable time. Sounding inane to her own ears, Pepper observed, "You're up early."

"We could not sleep a wink," Loki explained solemnly. "We were far too excited, because today is Festivus."

Pepper walked over to the coffee maker, which had already supplied Thor and Jane with their first cups of the day. Over her shoulder, she remarked, "I can never tell whether you're serious."

Thor, George, and Mitchell muffled snickers, and Loki smiled innocently- at least, he did until Annie poked him just below the ribs and he doubled over.

"When he looks that serious, he almost never is," Annie explained.

Loki straightened, poured himself a little more tea, and said to Pepper,

"Really, though, I think we are all most interested to learn what this Festivus is."

"I know we should have done some research before we came," George added, apologetically, "but somehow we didn't get around to it, what with packing and gift shopping and all."

"And besides," Annie said, glancing around at the others, "we thought Tony might get a kick out of explaining it to us."

Pepper smiled and took her first sip of coffee. "You really are good friends," she said, filled a second mug, and retreated back upstairs with both of them.

About an hour later, the entire group gathered in the room with the sofas and the television, to finally hear Tony's explanation of this mysterious holiday.

"It has come to my attention," their host said, in a mock-pompous tone that made Clint, who had just brought Mrs. Coulson another cup of tea, throw a paper napkin at him, "that some of us gathered here today do not know what Festivus is." He glanced down at Loki, seated on the floor at Annie's feet, with a lapful of kittens. Loki did his best to look eager for enlightenment.

"It's a made-up holiday created for an episode of a TV show called Seinfeld," Rhodey called.

"Wrong!" Tony replied, with exactly the same gestures and diction as Willy Wonka delivering the same line. "It's actually a made-up holiday that's been celebrated for many years by the family of the guy who wrote the episode of Seinfeld."

"So, it's a one-hundred percent genuine made-up holiday," said Mitchell, who was sitting beside Loki. "That makes perfect sense."

"Don't be sarcastic," Annie said, leaning forward to rumple his hair. "This is us we're talking about, after all."

"Good point," Mitchell conceded, making a token effort to smooth back his black curls.

"Now, Festivus is often presented as an alternative to the shameless commercialization of Christmas," Tony, himself generally the embodiment of all kinds of shameless commercialization, said with a straight face.

"Another alternative would be to simply not participate in the shameless commercialization of Christmas," Mrs. Coulson remarked aside to Steve. Steve demonstrated his acculturation to the current era by holding up a fist, which Mrs. Coulson duly bumped with her own.

"That is the message proclaimed by Charlie Brown, is it not?" Loki spoke up. Everyone looked at him. "What? I work at a primary school, remember?"

"Anyway," Tony said loudly, recapturing the attention of the assembly, "I feel a more plausible explanation of the origins of Festivus is, it's an excuse to have a whole lot of silly fun with your family, or the local equivalent thereof." He glanced around the room, at the various configurations of his guests and added, "Or, you know, both."

"And what might be the nature of such silly fun?" asked Loki, who was beginning to think this was a holiday he could whole-heartedly support, much like April Fool's Day.

"According to tradition," Tony said pompously, and Clint threw another crumpled napkin at him, "the principle observances of Festivus include the traditional meal of spaghetti and red sauce- " Loki, who was very fond of marinara sauce, perked up still more at this news- "accompanied by the Feats of Strength- " this was less promising- "and the Airing of Grievances- " and that was even worse. Loki had already aired all of his grievances, and had little wish to revisit any of them at this time. Also, as much as he accepted that other people had a right to express their own complaints against him, he really did not care for the idea of a whole holiday devoted to the purpose, especially when he had been having such a nice time so far.

Still, he would not be the one to ruin Tony's fun, so Loki composed his expression into his most convincingly eager smile.

Not, apparently, as convincing as it once had been, because as Tony smiled expansively around the room, he seemed to catch Loki's eye for a moment.

"Now, the thing about the Airing of Grievances is, it's perfectly okay to make a rule that you can only air grievances against people who aren't here. Or against institutions, or- "

"People who park over the lines in parking lots, so when you get back to your car, you can't open your driver's side door," Coulson contributed, darkly.

"I'm pretty sure you've got ways of dealing with that kind of thing," Bruce muttered. Natasha poked him, glancing at Mrs. Coulson out of the corner of her eye. Mrs. Coulson looked brightly unruffled.

"Also, about the Feats of Strength- " Tony said. "We don't have to exactly follow the usual tradition there, either."

"Oh? And what's the usual tradition?" Mitchell asked, looking alert. There was a human expression that referred to the impression one had "scented blood," but given Mitchell's specific condition this was probably not the best wording to choose. Still, Mitchell was undeniably bright-eyed with interest.

"Um, well," Tony hedged.

"The Feats of Strength," Clint said loudly, "involve the party nominating someone to- I think it's wrestle- with the head of the household- that would be Tony. When the head of the household is pinned, Festivus is over. I nominate Thor, incidentally."

"I think the head of the household actually gets to do the nominating," Tony argued.

"But I'm pretty sure the head of the household doesn't get to wear his Iron Man suit," Clint went on relentlessly. "And I still nominate Thor."

"How about Rogers?" called Hill. "With or without the suit."

Tony was probably aware that, out of his suit, he was no match for any of his guests, with the likely exceptions of Annie, Pepper, and Mrs. Coulson. And Loki was beginning to entertain doubts about Mrs. Coulson.

"There's no rule about not wearing the Iron Man suit," Tony argued, even though he had apparently meant to propose a change to the custom anyway.

"In that case," said Coulson, "I nominate Annie and a big pile of firewood."

"I nominate Pepper," Annie spoke up. Everyone looked at her, and she offered her most angelic smile. "She's probably got more practical experience at pinning Tony than any of the rest of us." Pepper threw a paper napkin at her.

"I like your style," Tony replied with a grin, "but I have a different idea. The Feats of Strength can be represented by any kind of athletic endeavor- shut up, Clint, I looked it up- so I propose we forget about ending the holiday with that part, and go sliding this morning instead."

"Sliding is an athletic endeavor?" Steve said dubiously.

"Climbing back up the hill with your sled certainly is," Rhodey assured him.

"Yeah, we didn't do a lot of that in Brooklyn," Steve said.

"What is meant by 'sliding'?" Thor finally asked, looking around. "I apologize, I do not think this is a game we played in Asgard." At the expressions on the faces of his friends, he added, "I perceive there must be little chance of bloodshed. Really, not all childhood games in Asgard ended in serious injury." He considered this for a moment, glancing self-consciously at Loki, as Jane wrapped an arm around him.

Which was, perhaps, enough of that train of thought. Loki spoke up quickly, "I have seen children playing this way in the park. You acquire some slippery item to sit upon- "

"We used a tea tray," Mitchell said. "We had to sneak it out of the house without Mum catching us."

"- and then find a snow-covered hill and slide down it at great speed. It is particularly important to ensure the runout at the end can be accomplished safely." Bristol was a hilly city, and after learning of this game from the children at school, Loki had been at some pains to find the most desirable sliding locations and enchant them against serious mishap.

"Oh," said Thor. "Well, that sounds enjoyable." Jane poked him. "No, really, it sounds enjoyable. I am certain our friend Volstagg would have been able to attain considerable velocity."

"I wonder if it is a popular pastime on Jotunheim?" Loki speculated, remembering the Jotun children they had met on his last- probably last-ever- visit to the realm on which he had been born.

"No doubt," Tony agreed. "Now, we don't have anything like enough tea trays here, and we're a little big for them anyway. But I did a bit of research, and it turns out our ingenious neighbors to the north- "

"Canadians," George said, aside, to Loki, whose grasp of Midgardian geography was not very reliable outside Europe.

"Yes, exactly. In Canada, they've got a thing called a 'crazy carpet,' which is just a piece of slick plastic that's good on most snowy surfaces. And it turns out you can order them online from a store called Canadian Tire," Tony explained. "In bulk, if need be. And before anyone gives me that 'oh, Tony' look, they cost about four bucks each and I got a break on the shipping. There's a perfect hill just west of here, so I suggest we go sliding, then have our spaghetti for... well, either lunch or what you British- "

"- and Irish," Mitchell murmured.

"- and Irish people call tea," agreed Tony, without missing a beat, "when we get back. We can do the Airing of Grievances then. Without reference to anybody present right now. Is that okay with everyone?"

"Sure," came the general chorus of agreement from everyone except Fury, who did not actively object.

"I think I'll decline, if you don't mind," Mrs. Coulson said. "It would put a real damper on the party if the old lady broke a hip. And I've been hoping for a chance to look around at the architecture of this house without feeling like I'm being unsociable."

"Are you sure you don't mind being on your own?" asked Steve, who looked as though he would perhaps appreciate an excuse to skip the sliding party, himself.

"I won't be alone, dear. JARVIS is here, and I hope Loki's little friends will want to visit with me," Mrs. Coulson replied reasonably. Steve nodded, and fortunately managed not to look disappointed.

The group dispersed to put on extra layers of warm clothing, intending to meet on the front steps half an hour hence. Loki declined Clint's suggestion that he once again garb himself in his "Superman pajamas." Assuming Jotun form would have ensured he did not become chilled during the activity, but would also render him unable to make physical contact with any of the others. His experiences the day before suggested Loki could cope with cold as long as he was in friendly company, and so the trade seemed acceptable.

Which did not at all mean he would fail to take reasonable precautions. And, thinking about it, he remembered he was not the only member of the group with what might be described as an aversion. Once he was wearing as much clothing as he could put on, Loki asked Annie to use her ability to locate those for whom she had an affinity to find Steve's room. The two caught him as he was about to descend the stairs to join the party.

"Steve, are you all right?" Annie asked, without preamble. It was unlike Annie to be so abrupt, which might have been what startled Steve into answering her with equal candor.

"Not so much," he admitted. "I know it's stupid of me, but I don't seem to be able to get over being uncomfortable with cold and snow. It's not that I'm scared- " Steve broke off, looked at Annie's and Loki's sympathetic faces, and then said slowly, "Actually, it is. It's that being cold makes me feel scared and out of control, and- it's okay when we're on a mission, when I've got something to focus on. It's just... not fun. I'm not going to disappoint Tony, but the last thing I want to do is go play in the snow." He shook his head. "But I don't want to put a damper on things, either. I suppose this doesn't make a lot of sense to you?"

It occurred to Loki that he had never directly confided in Steve concerning his own antipathy to cold and snow, and those who knew the story had apparently not shared this knowledge with him, either.

"Actually," Loki admitted, "I do understand, a little. I am of course Jotun, but my Aesir form is susceptible to cold, and- well, it seems I am indeed the worst Frost Giant ever." Annie poked him, and Loki attempted to make himself more clear. "I do not remember whether you have ever been told of the circumstances under which my father... found me?"

Steve's eyes widened, as though he was making a leap in understanding. "You were... left... in a temple."

"To die, yes," Loki agreed. "Which I admit I do not remember, but I was still plagued for much of my life by dreams of being all alone in the cold. I do not suppose the actual cold would have been what killed me, but perhaps infants are more aware of it, or it may be I felt it after I took on the form of an Aesir baby, or... perhaps it was only my mind. Regardless, such dreams are... unpleasant."

"Yes," Steve breathed. "I've been having dreams like that since, since I came back. I don't like to complain to anyone, but... it's a bad way to wake up. And then I can't always get back to sleep. What do you do?"

Loki fidgeted. "They have become rare since I came to live in Bristol," he admitted. "It makes a great deal of difference to know there are friendly beings nearby, even asleep." Indeed, the last time he had experienced such a dream was in his old chambers in Asgard, and Thor had been there to comfort him.

And besides, Loki's distressing experience was far in the past, nothing like as fresh as Steve's. There seemed little he could offer, but something did occur to him. "Do you have a, a mobile device? A phone?" Steve looked puzzled, but nodded. "Well, if you thought it might help, you would be welcome to send me text messages any time you woke in such a state. I would not always be awake to receive them, but with the time difference, surely I would be at least part of the time. Would that- ?"

"I'm not very good at text messages," Steve muttered.

"Thor could show you," Loki suggested, allowing himself to tease a little. Steve did laugh at that, looking sheepish. Loki went on, "The expedition in search of the tree was far more enjoyable than I expected. Really. And if you were to become... distressed... I am sure I could use an unobtrusive spell to warm you a little. You have only to indicate your discomfort. Would you be willing to try that?"

Steve sighed. "Some superhero," he said wryly.

Loki shrugged. "It has been my experience that no one is invincible. This must be why the Avengers are a team." He added hastily, "A team that permits contributions from other parties such as my friends and myself- "

Steve smiled. "Just team is fine. And- okay. Yes. I'd appreciate your help, if I run into trouble. That would be great. Thank you."

"You are most welcome," Loki replied. "We Hufflepuffs must stick together, after all." He smiled encouragingly. "Should we join the others?"

Steve sighed. "Might as well." Annie took his arm, and they started down the stairs together.