Notes: In which everyone, including Philip and Elizabeth, has apparently been very good this year. This one's a little long- apparently opening gifts takes a long time!
Warnings: None.
Chapter Fourteen
Tony tilted his Father Christmas hat on the side of his head and settled down beside the tree to hand out presents. Scamp, apparently feeling rather shy with everyone all gathered together like this, curled up between Loki and Annie with her head on her front paws. Philip and Elizabeth, however, by now hiding under the tree, were wild with excitement at all the activity, batting and clutching at Tony's hands as he took the wrapped parcels from their "lair."
"Would you like me to remove them?" Loki asked, as Tony pulled his left arm back with Elizabeth wrapped around his wrist.
"I might ask you to make me a much wider, sturdier bracelet in a minute," Tony replied, peeling Elizabeth loose as gently as possible and setting her down. She promptly rushed back under the tree, rustling the paper skirt around its base as she pounced upon her brother. Loki began to think the charm against climbing he had placed on the tree should have encompassed a rather wider range of kittenish activities.
Tony held the gift, wrapped in paper embellished with green wreaths, in his lap as he consulted the little tag attached to it. It was abundantly clear he was drawing out the process- Loki found himself visited with the urge to call out, "Get on with it!" like the cast in the Monty Python movie.
Eventually, however, Tony read the names on the tag: "To Maria, from Jim."
"Who?" blurted George, voicing the confusion Loki, at least, was feeling.
"Agent Hill," Rhodey muttered, with obvious embarrassment. "From me."
The next five minutes were filled with spluttered apologies from George, and reassurances from both Agent Hill and Rhodey that they were unoffended. Agent Hill (Loki could not make himself think of her as Maria, any more than he could mentally call Lt. Col. Rhodes by his given name) finally ended the exchange by tearing the paper from her gift, thus ensuring everyone's attention was drawn to it.
"Oh, how pretty," she crooned, cradling a small wooden box, decorated with coloured inlay, in her hands. "Is it a music box?"
"Yes," Rhodey replied, looking at once stiff with embarrassment and very relieved. "There's a key on the bottom." Agent Hill promptly turned the little box over and wound the key a few turns, then set the box upright on the floor before her and lifted its lid. A tinkling tune began to play, and Agent Hill smiled as she listened to it.
"This is lovely," she said, with evident sincerity. "I used to collect- Thank you."
"Merry Christmas," replied Rhodey, quite visibly relaxing. It occurred to Loki that, as a cause of gift-giving stress, being assigned to provide a gift to someone you did not know very well would be a considerable occasion. Rhodey's thankful glance in Agent Coulson's direction made it clear how he had learned what might be welcome.
Mrs. Coulson was next, and received a very beautiful embroidered shawl from Natasha, who appeared as pleased with her thanks as Mrs. Coulson did with the gift. Rhodey next had, from Fury, an antique piece of navigational equipment called a sextant. It was made of polished brass and apparently could yet be used to judge one's location with reference to the sun or the stars. It was, of course, also a most attractive piece to set on one's desk.
By this time, Philip and Elizabeth had emerged from their den beneath the tree. It was evident they considered themselves to have been very good kittens, duly rewarded by Father Christmas with gifts of crumpled wrapping paper. As more gifts were opened, the kittens' glee was unrestrained, and they zoomed back and forth across the room, pouncing and tackling, and hiding under the paper so as to make it scurry as if under its own power. Scamp gave chase with energy- it really was a mercy that she was non-corporeal and so could not overturn any small tables or the tree itself.
There was no doubt the animals' antics slowed the process of opening presents, but no one seemed to mind. Mrs. Coulson, her new shawl wrapped around her over her pink bathrobe, dangled a piece of ribbon to make Philip stand on his hind legs and wave his forepaws as though conducting an orchestra.
Loki quite forgot his anxiety about his own gift, what with part of his attention focused on the kittens and the rest on watching the others unwrapping and reacting to their own presents. Pepper received a very beautiful silver necklace, set with blue stones the colour of her eyes, from Jane.
"I don't know if it's your style," Jane said nervously, "it's very New Mexico, but- "
"I can already think of three different outfits this would work with," Pepper said definitely. "Thank you, Jane. I really like turquoise, and this is stunning."
Jane beamed, and she beamed again when she opened her own gift, from Bruce. In fact, she may have shrieked a little when she saw the soft doll depicting an old man with a mustache and wild grey hair.
"Where did you find an Einstein stuffie?" she demanded, hugging it.
"Well, there's this thing called the Internet," Bruce replied, with a straight face. "Be careful with the box, there's also- "
Jane dove back into the box and let out another shriek as she drew out a coffee mug decorated with what seemed to be a photograph of the same elderly man, pulling a silly face like a child. Jane actually bounced in her seat, and then draped her discarded wrapping paper over Elizabeth and giggled as it coasted rapidly away across the floor.
Next, Agent Coulson received- from Agent Hill- an even more elaborate version of the red folding knife he generally carried in his pocket.
"Is this a lock pick?" Coulson asked, his expression solemn but his eyes bright with interest.
"It could work as a lock pick," Hill agreed. "Or a hole punch, or to pry open something small."
"Could probably kill someone with it, if you needed to," Fury noted.
"Agent Coulson could probably kill someone with Jane's bunny slippers," Annie whispered to Loki.
"That is true," Loki agreed, stifling a giggle. It crossed his mind that he would not be nearly so amused if someone pointed out his own murderous capabilities, but of course the difference was that Agent Coulson could be trusted to use his justly. "He could probably also pick a lock with Jane's bunny slippers," Loki added, in fairness. "Also, I wonder..."
He had apparently not spoken as quietly as he meant to.
"What's that, Loki?" Tony prompted.
"I was only wondering whether I could develop a variation on the spell I placed on the carpet-bag," Loki admitted. "One that would cause such a knife to produce any small tool its owner happened to need at just the right moment. The spell on the carpet-bag works because the bag is already intended to hold things, the magic is only to let it hold anything. I wonder, given a knife that already knows it is meant to serve multiple purposes... I will have to experiment."
"You can have my old one to work on," Agent Coulson offered.
"Really? I will of course return it to you whether the spell works or not," Loki said hastily, in case Agent Coulson was attached. The agent smiled, and Bruce, rather diffidently, asked,
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to do some of the work on the spell in one of Tony's labs? Let us take a few readings while you're doing it? I mean, we won't be able to understand what's happening, exactly, but it would be really interesting..." Bruce broke off, perhaps thinking Loki would be offended by the prospect of becoming a lab specimen- or perhaps remembering what it had felt like when he had been one himself. "I mean, if you don't want to that's fine, too- "
"I would need to do some research and a little experimentation before there was anything for you to read," Loki said quickly. "But I would be willing to participate in such a study, if it... interested you."
"There's no if about it," Bruce said quickly. "Just let us know when you're ready."
"Great," Tony said. "Now that that's settled, this one's from Mitchell to Nick." He tossed a light, flexible parcel to Fury, who opened it to find a black t-shirt with lettering across the front: Something Wicked This Way Comes.
"It's from the Globe Theatre," Mitchell, who had certainly not addressed the gift To Nick, said nervously. "We were in London, and Loki mentioned you referring to the play, so... "
"Yeah," Fury said, with what might have been a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. "Macbeth is definitely my favourite of the plays. Thank you."
"You know it's bad luck to refer to it by name or quote it, right?" Tony said. Fury gave him a look that suggested reference to a play was not the unluckiest utterance Fury might make, and also that the bad luck was apt to fall upon someone other than Fury. "Moving right along," Tony said hastily, "Thor, this is for you, from Annie. Careful, it's kind of heavy. Right, what am I saying?" he added, as Thor took the package from him.
Philip landed in Thor's lap as though utterly confident his uncle would share the delightful, exciting wrapping paper with him. Thor undid the taped corners with great care, removing the paper from a plain cardboard box that had clearly been meant for some other purpose. When he opened it, he looked puzzled to find it stuffed with crumpled newspaper.
"That's just to keep things from rattling around," Annie spoke up quickly, lest there be any misunderstanding.
"Oh, of course," Thor said quickly, distributing the paper carefully between Philip and Elizabeth, in the process revealing two more wrapped items- never let it be said that Annie did not observe the niceties- that turned out to be a book, entitled British Baking, and a heavy marble rolling pin. "These are wonderful!" Thor exclaimed, with obvious delight.
"I hope you like the book, it's got some really nice recipes- " Annie said anxiously.
"Is there one for fruitcake?" Thor asked eagerly, flipping through the illustrated pages. It occurred to Loki that his brother might not know about the Midgardian conventions of table of contents or index, but before he could speak up, Jane had leaned over to offer her assistance. Loki had never seen Thor so absorbed by a book. "I like the look of these heart-shaped biscuits with the jam inside," he remarked, pausing at a page headed Jammy Dodgers. He looked up at Annie with a smile. "Thank you, Annie. This is a wonderful gift."
"I have a feeling we're all going to be grateful to you, Annie," Clint remarked cheerfully. "Tony, give that flat one to Mitchell next. It's from me."
Mitchell's gift turned out to be record albums, three by an American bard named John Prine and two by another named Leonard Cohen.
"I checked with Loki and George to make sure you didn't have them already," Clint said diffidently. "We seem to like some of the same music, so- "
"They're great," Mitchell said. "Prine can be hard to find over here, especially the records. And he just sounds right on LP." Clint was nodding enthusiastically, obviously pleased at the reception of his gift, as Mitchell turned the records over, one by one, to remind himself of the songs on each. "Loki, here's that song you and Thor like."
"The one about forgiving each other until we both turn blue?" Thor asked eagerly. Loki did not recall the circumstances under which he had first heard the song, but he understood it to have been in this very house. And since Thor now used a part of the song to indicate Loki was calling him on his mobile phone, it had evidently made a great impression upon his brother.
"Maybe we can play them later," Mitchell suggested.
"Steve, this is for you from George," Tony announced, hefting the unwieldy parcel, now divested of its brown paper wrapping, that George had carried into the house on the first night of the celebrations. Tony grunted and addressed Steve: "You better grab this before I drop it. George, what is this? Rocks?"
"No," said George, and Steve unwrapped a set of six large cloth-bound hardcover books wrapped in paper dust jackets.
"Oh," he said, eyes shining in a way that made George relax and smile. "It's Winston Churchill's history of the Second World War," he told the others. Loki nodded, his housemates having already explained to him that Churchill had been a great leader during Steve's war. "I've been wanting to read this but I never think to ask Tony to help me find it through the computer. And hardcover editions in such good shape are hard to find anyway."
"They're more common over here," George explained.
"I suppose so," Steve agreed. "Thank you, George. I can't wait to read them, and I know exactly where they'll fit on my bookshelves."
It was George's turn next, and he unwrapped a strange device given him by Agent Coulson, which apparently translated one's utterances into any of a score or more of languages, both verbally and into text on a small screen.
"Thought you might find it handy, if we ever have to ask you to be our translator again," Coulson explained, making reference to the previous summer's battle against invaders from the past and beyond space, when George had been tasked with monitoring communications from various SHIELD locations around the globe.
"It's amazing," said George, and the machine repeated his words in Farsi. "Where did you get it?"
"Oh, things are decommissioned sometimes," Coulson replied vaguely. "Glad you like it."
Bruce next received a gift nearly as unwieldy as Steve's, and Thor leaned forward eagerly to see his reaction. It was another wooden box, much larger than the one received by Agent Hill, its lid inlaid with alternating squares of dark brown and a rich honey-golden. The lid was hinged, and there was a wide, shallow drawer in the front, with a brass pull.
"Is this a chess set?" Bruce asked, his expression bright with curiosity.
"No," Thor replied, "although I believe you could use the surface for that game, and there is room inside to store more playing pieces. It is called tafl, and is a game of strategy with certain similarities to your chess. Loki is better at it than I am, he may be willing to help me teach you." Loki was nodding as Thor went on, "I feel sure you will enjoy it."
Bruce, pulling the drawer open to examine the beautifully-crafted container as if it was the present itself, looked hesitant. "Thor, this can't have cost only- "
"Actually, it cost nothing," Thor admitted. "After I decided the game would make a good present for you, I asked my friends back in Asgard to help me find a set that would be pleasing to look at as well as to play with. My friend Volstagg had this, and he and his family having little taste for the game he agreed to part with it in exchange for a few sparring lessons with his eldest boys. It seemed a good bargain."
Particularly, Loki thought, since Thor would doubtless have offered to spar with Volstagg's sons anyway, as soon as they were of an age to learn from it, and Volstagg certainly knew it.
"Volstagg's wife Gudrun polished it beautifully, and all the pieces," Thor completed his explanation. "And they join me in hoping you find the game enjoyable."
"I'm sure that I will," Bruce assured him. "And it's so beautiful I'll get a lot of pleasure out of just looking at it."
"Clint, this is for you, from Mrs. Coulson," Tony announced, handing over a bulky, soft, light parcel. Loki, with visions of Mrs. Weasley's awkwardly knitted jumpers, sat up and paid close attention. This might be very funny- although now he knew Mrs. Coulson, he suspected it was more likely-
"Oh, wow," Clint said, as he opened one end of the paper wrapping. He pulled out the contents and dropped the paper to the floor, where it was immediately claimed as a cave by Elizabeth, who energetically defended her new lair from incursion by her brother.
Clint did not notice, he was carefully unfolding the heap of soft, cream-coloured wool in his lap. It was revealed as a jumper, all right, but one beautifully crafted, with ribbed cuffs and waist, and elaborate patterns knit into it.
"It's gorgeous," Clint said quietly, all his usual flippancy gone.
"I hope it fits," Mrs. Coulson fussed gently. "Can you try it on so we can see?"
Clint did not need asking twice. He pulled the jumper on over his t-shirt, to confirm that it fit him perfectly.
"It looks great on you," Annie spoke up.
"It does," Natasha agreed.
"Irish fisherman sweaters always look great," Pepper said, leaning forward. "Especially when they're this well made. Mrs. Coulson, did you knit this?"
"Yes," she replied tranquilly. "Clint, I'm sorry about the tag- I usually put one inside that says Made With Care by Gladys, but I ran out of them, so you have Hand Made by Mom. I don't mean to be presumptuous, I just wanted to make sure you remembered who made it for you.
Loki was probably not the only one who thought there was no chance whatsoever that Clint would ever forget where the garment had come from, or that he would object to such a tag, but it took him a moment to compose himself enough to say so.
"No, it's fine," Clint said, in a slightly strangled voice. "Thank you, Mrs. Coulson. I think this is the nicest thing anyone's ever given me."
"I'm very glad you like it, Clint," Mrs. Coulson replied warmly. "Merry Christmas."
"Annie?" Tony said, capturing her attention. "This is from Steve." He held out a flat rectangular package. She pulled open the paper, frowning in concentration, while Steve watched with eager anxiety.
It was a picture. That much was obvious from the back, framed and with the wire already on for hanging. Remembering that Steve was an artist, Loki leaned forward as Annie turned it over.
"Oh," Annie breathed, with much the same note in her voice as Clint had. "Oh, Steve. Thank you." She turned the frame so that everyone could see.
It was a portrait of the four of them, sitting together on the sofa in their lounge. Steve, having once fallen prey to a malign spell, had been taken into the household, and so he knew what their sofa looked like. He had at the time been able to see Annie, and had done so on a couple of occasions afterward. As Loki knew better than anyone, Annie once seen was impossible to forget.
The picture was drawn in soft coloured pencils. Steve had perfectly captured the exact shade of Annie's skin, the shape of her beautiful dark eyes, the curve of her lips. But he had also accurately depicted Mitchell's black curls and look of mischief, and George's open-hearted friendliness and the freckles around his eyes. Loki in the picture was perhaps a little idealized, the sharp lines of his face softened more than was strictly truthful as he smiled out at the observer. Still, it was a lie born of kindness and made Loki fit in with his friends, he and Mitchell at the ends of the sofa with Annie and George between them, Loki's arm around her.
The fact neither Annie nor Mitchell could be captured by a camera made this picture even more precious. Annie stared at it for a long moment, then set it gently down, walked over to Steve, and embraced him. Steve's face was flaming when she released him, but you could not say he looked displeased with her reaction.
"Loki, you're up next," Tony announced. "This is from Pepper."
"Thank you, Pepper," Loki said, as he took the bulky but lightweight box.
"You're supposed to say that after you see what it is," Tony rebuked him.
"Tony, don't pick on people for having nice manners," Pepper rebuked in return. "You're welcome, Loki. I just hope you like it."
"Wait, don't open it yet," Tony said quickly. "You're supposed to shake it first and try to figure out what it is."
"Nobody else did so," Loki objected.
"Well, you weren't here when Pepper and I came downstairs, but we gave everything a good shake on the sly before anyone else was up. Go on," Tony prompted.
It seemed easier to give in than to continue to argue, and besides, no one was laughing at him any more than they were at Tony. Loki obediently shook the box, hearing a faint rustling and a soft thump. These clues were insufficient to guess at the contents.
"Oh, hey, I hope it's not a guinea pig," Tony said suddenly. "Because a guinea pig wouldn't like that treatment one bit."
"It's not a guinea pig," Pepper said, mock-severely. "And stop teasing him."
Tony relented, and Loki finally began to remove the wrappings, revealing a box with a taped-shut lid. Agent Coulson offered his new pocket knife, and Loki carefully slit the tape with it. He gave back the knife, pulled open the flaps of the box, and peered inside.
And then he began to laugh. He reached into the box and pulled out a happy-looking, cuddly, toy rhinoceros. Annie cooed, and both George and Mitchell giggled.
"I love him," Loki announced. "Thank you, Pepper."
"There should be an envelope in there, too," Pepper prompted. Loki looked, and sure enough there was indeed an envelope, bearing the panda logo of the World Wildlife Fund. "It's a certificate of adoption- " She blanched, perhaps afraid he would be offended, and went hastily on, "That's just the expression they use, to say I made a donation in your name for rhino conservation. They call it 'adopting' the animal."
Loki stared at her. "Really? You did that for me?" Pepper nodded. "That is a wonderful present. Thank you so much." He opened the envelope and brought out the materials: a fact sheet, bookmarks, some stickers- Loki suspected this adoption business was perhaps intended mostly to interest children in wildlife conservation, but he did not mind at all. It was a very thoughtful gesture.
He was so taken up with his gift that he almost missed Tony pulling out the one marked, "To Tony, From Loki." Annie gently poked him and he turned his attention to Tony, trying to mask his own nervousness, but somewhat comforted by the fact a few of the others had also seemed anxious about gifts that were very well-received.
"This one's damn heavy, too. If you don't mind I think I won't shake it," Tony said, and tore at the paper to reveal yet another carved wooden box. "Wow, this is great."
"The actual present is inside," Loki spoke up hastily. Tony patted the lid, then undid the clasps and opened it. Inside, as Loki well knew, was straw for packing, and-
"Holy shit," Tony breathed, lifting out a bottle of a golden liquid, corked and sealed with wax. "Is this- this is mead, isn't it? From Asgard?"
"Yes," Loki replied. "There should be four bottles of that size, and one much smaller one."
Tony rustled around in the straw and found the smaller bottle, which was filled with a clear red fluid rather like cranberry juice. "Okay, what's this?"
"A cure devised by Eir the healer, for treatment of the aftereffects of drink," Loki explained. "Even so," he added, over everyone's laughter, "I really recommend you dilute the mead with water when you serve it out. Even Thor and I find it rather powerful in its pure state."
"This is great," Tony said. "Thank you, Loki."
"You are most welcome," Loki replied, with an internal sigh of relief. He had been worried about what he could possibly offer to a man who could, quite literally, afford nearly anything on Midgard. The only solution had been to find something that could not be found on this realm. Tony seemed very pleased and intrigued, which was all Loki had hoped for.
Tony looked up with a big smile. "Really, this is unbelievably cool. We'll all have to try some at dinner. Thank you." He carefully replaced the bottles, closed and patted the lid, and then picked up a final, rather small, parcel. "Natasha, this is from me. Merry Christmas."
"Thanks, Tony," Natasha replied as she accepted the gift. Without seeming to notice everyone's eyes now upon her, she undid the wrapping and opened the box within. "Oh," she breathed, and for once the Black Widow sounded disconcerted.
The box contained a small oval figure about six inches tall, nearly egg-shaped, painted to look like a girl wearing a red cape over colourful peasant garb.
"There's a switch on the back," Tony said, in an uncharacteristically diffident voice. Natasha looked, did something with her fingernail, and hastily set down the little figure as a motor came to life inside it and a melody began to play.
"'Dark Eyes,'" Natasha said softly, to Clint who looked questioning. "It's a Russian gypsy song."
The little figure rolled gently in a circle, to the fascination of Philip, Elizabeth, and Scamp. Then it stopped, and all three pets leaped backwards in surprise as the top half of the figure split open along the vertical plane, revealing a second, identical, but smaller doll inside. The song began again and the figure revolved as though dancing, opening again and again to reveal four more equally elaborate dolls within. Then the song ended, and one by one the tiny figures closed themselves until only one was smiling at them. Even knowing the joins were there, they were still almost impossible to see.
Natasha had a hand over her mouth by now, and Loki for one did not really know where to look.
"I always wanted- when I was little. Dolls like that. When I still... " She seemed to have no words to explain herself.
"Yeah," Tony said gently. "You mentioned it one time, when we were flying someplace on a mission." And that was the thing about Tony: he was so skilled at pretending he never thought of anyone but himself, it was easy not to notice how he noticed things.
Natasha looked up, her expression almost fierce, and Loki winced inside, hoping she would allow herself- hoping she would not find a way not to have this thing that little girl had yearned over. "Tony, you can't tell me this only cost fifty dollars."
"It didn't," Tony replied promptly.
"There was a rule," she insisted, as though Natasha was ever concerned with rules.
"Pish-posh," Tony said, his tone gently teasing now. "Like we Slytherins care about rules."
"What did it- ?" she insisted, and Loki was quite sure she would make herself give it back if Tony gave the wrong answer, as if she should not be allowed to have things.
Tony shrugged. "It's hard to say, really. I mean, if you think about all the R&D that went into designing and upgrading JARVIS over the years, I'd say millions. But if you consider the cost of scrap metal and paint and stuff left over from the last redesign of the suit... Nothing."
Natasha stared at him. "You made this?" Tony nodded. "For me?"
"Well, in fairness, JARVIS made it. I just designed it," Tony admitted. "But I did the painting on the faces. Cute, aren't they?"
"You made this for me," Natasha put the string of words together, and Tony nodded again. "Why?"
Tony shrugged. "I thought you probably would like to have it. I wish you'd had those dolls a long time ago. Merry Christmas, Natasha."
Natasha put her hand over her mouth again, looking down at the smiling toy Tony had taken such trouble to give her because that long-ago little girl deserved to have had it.
Loki caught Annie by the hand and they got to their feet. They were not the only ones who felt the same sudden urge to go start breakfast. Leaving Clint and Natasha with Tony and Mrs. Coulson, the others quietly left the room.