Notes: In which we come to the final day of the Wool-White, Bell-Tongued Ball of Holidays. There will be a final wrap-up chapter after this. Thanks to everyone who's been reading this ball of nonsense!
Warnings: None.
Chapter Seventeen
"I thought that went pretty well," Mitchell remarked, blowing the smoke from his cigarette downwind from the others.
"It did," agreed Annie. Loki, sitting on Annie's other side on the stone wall behind the house, nodded as well. Dinner had been most enjoyable, and the play, once they had gotten underway, entertaining. He had been particularly amused by the way his brother had thrown himself into his role as Osebo the python, who is tricked into being tied to a palm stick. It seemed to Loki that Thor was far more open to acting the fool here than on Asgard, presumably because he was not surrounded by people over whom he would eventually have to rule. It was, Loki considered, probably a liberating thought.
"It was fun- at least, once we got over the whole spider-with-the-head-of-a-man unpleasantness," George agreed, tightening the arm he had slung around Loki's shoulders to emphasize that he was only teasing.
"Yes, well," Loki muttered, embarrassed once again, "that was certainly not the reaction I had in mind. I was merely trying to make the story as much like the book as possible. I had no intention of ruining the fun by frightening everyone."
"Aw, we know that," Mitchell said soothingly.
"And you didn't ruin anything," Annie added. "It started being funny as soon as you put your own body back on. I really think everyone else was mostly embarrassed at the way they reacted."
Loki started to repeat his original point, that his intention had not been to alarm or disgust, but George spoke up first:
"And anyway, if you had told us what you were going to do, I for one would have laughed and said that it sounded like a great idea."
"So would I," Bruce agreed, from the far side of George. "In theory, a giant spider with your face really does sound pretty funny. It went all to hell in practice, but if you'd said anything in advance I would have told you it sounded awesome, go ahead."
"But if you had been prepared, you would possibly not have had to flee the room for fear of… an episode… when you saw me," Loki pointed out.
"Oh, I probably would have had to do that anyway," Bruce assured him. "I still would have gotten a hell of a jolt, when I realized what you actually looked like, and it's always best for me to excuse myself if I get taken by surprise like that. Not your fault."
"You were not angry?" Loki asked, giving in to this last little need for reassurance.
"Nope," Bruce replied. "I don't usually Hulk out involuntarily except when I'm angry, but a shot of adrenaline for any reason can make me shaky for a minute. That's all it was. Like I said, best if I excuse myself." He sighed. "Anyway, as much as I love all these guys, in our own weird little way, I still find I need to hide in my room and do yoga a couple of times a day. I'm having a great time, really, but it's tiring to be around all these people and all this confusion, and I really don't want to have… an episode, as you call it, and destroy Tony's house." After a pause, he added, "Particularly since I'm beginning to think nearly every happy memory he has of his family is somehow tied to this place."
"You noticed that, too?" Annie asked.
"Yeah, and I'd hate to be the one who ruins it for him," Bruce muttered.
Annie leaned over Scamp, Loki and George to pat him on the shoulder. "Welcome to the club," she said gravely. Bruce blinked in surprise, then reluctantly laughed.
Mitchell pinched out the dog-end of his cigarette, pressed it carefully into the snow on top of the stone wall until all heat was extinguished, and put it into his pocket to dispose of in the trash. Loki pulled his spell of warmth and dry trousers from around and under them, and all of them slid off the wall to return to the house, Scamp jumping down from her place between Annie and Loki.
"Thanks for letting me join you," Bruce, who had fallen in with them as they left the house, said awkwardly. "I hope I didn't disrupt a house meeting or anything."
"Nah," Mitchell said with a smile. "I just needed to get away from all those heartbeats for a little while." Bruce, for all his intelligence, looked bewildered. "Vampire," Mitchell reminded him gently, then added, "I get a little testy, myself. Only I'm better if I'm not alone when I feel that way."
"Oh, damn," Bruce murmured. "And I just butted in."
"Not a problem, really," Mitchell replied. "I'm easiest with supernaturals and aliens, but you and Steve aren't as… Whatever your enhancements are, they make you feel different. All right, smell different. Less of a temptation. Everyone else- " He made a helpless little gesture.
Bruce had clearly not given any thought to this, because he looked startled and alarmed. "And Mrs. Coulson is- "
"Bruce," Mitchell interrupted mildly, "if I really lost control, none of the unenhanced humans, including Fury, would have a prayer unless they happened to have the sharp stick right in their hands when I went for them. It might be a good idea, really, if I was to spar with Coulson or Clint a little, just to make sure they know what they'll be up against if I ever lose it."
Loki was quite sure it was not simply the absence of his warming spell that made him suddenly feel so cold all over. Bruce, looking dumbfounded, tried once again to make light of the situation:
"Natasha would probably be able to- "
"I'm way worse with women," Mitchell said flatly. "Which I hate about myself, but there it is. Natasha's a badass human, but I'm supernatural, I'm already dead, and I've killed more people than some of you lot have met." He smiled tightly. "I don't plan on going back to the old ways, mind. It's just… I've learned to be conscious of myself."
"Same here," George added. "The werewolf issue- it's only once a month, but it takes managing." He smiled, bespectacled and decent. "We have an idea what you're up against, is what we're saying."
"So you do," Bruce agreed, looking surprised and… relieved. Loki remained silent, for once realizing he had nothing to contribute to this discussion.
Annie called to Scamp, and the six of them walked back into the house.
~oOo~
"Tell us about Hanukkah, George," Loki requested, from his cozy position curled up on one of the couches in the gathering room, with Annie leaning against him.
"That's not until tomorrow," George pointed out. "It's still Kwanzaa tonight."
"Ah, I kind of considered that over after we made the toasts at dinner," Fury shrugged. "Tony, I've been underestimating how much energy it must be taking for you to play host to all these people all this time. I'm impressed."
"Call it my superpower," Tony replied. "I am filled with hosting strength. Even if I did cry like a little girl over that jerk chicken. Which was wonderful, Annie."
"Next time I'll plan ahead," Annie promised. "It would have been a lot spicier if I had marinated it overnight."
"Let's all just think about that for a minute," Pepper suggested. "Spicier."
"It was pretty nearly weapons-grade as it was," Hill commented. "That's a compliment, by the way."
"I liked it very much," Loki said dreamily, ignoring the predictable catcalls from the corner where Clint and Natasha were pretending not to snuggle. "Really, George, what is the story of Hanukkah? It is one of the important holidays for Jewish people, yes?"
"Actually, no," George replied. "It's not one of the major holidays, at least from a religious point of view. Culturally, it has a high profile mostly because it falls near Christmas and we tend to celebrate it as… our version of the big family holiday, especially in places where most of the population is Christian. It's actually of a lot less significance than, for instance, Passover- "
"Which celebrates the escape of the Jews from Egypt, long ago," Loki said. He looked around, aware of surprised eyes upon him. "What? There is an animated film."
"Beats Charlton Heston, I guess," Rhodey mused.
"- and what we call the High Holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur," George went on. "Those happen in September. Rosh Hashanah is New Year in our calendar, which is followed by ten days in which we reflect on what we've done wrong over the course of the previous year. We focus on making amends, and asking and offering forgiveness. It ends with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement."
"Man, you guys really know how to throw a party," Clint noted, and Natasha poked him in the ribs.
"Oh," Loki said, thoughtfully. "That sounds… that sounds very interesting."
"Do they have Jews on Asgard? Or Jotunheim?" Mitchell asked, deadpan.
"I've wondered that myself," George replied, with a little grin at the puzzled expression on Loki's face. "Anyway, Hanukkah commemorates the miracle of the oil and the reconsecration of the Temple after the Maccabean Revolt- I think I had better back up a little, hadn't I?"
"If you would not mind," Loki said gratefully.
"Okay. Short version: over two thousand years ago, the country of Judea came under the control of an empire that tried to forbid Jewish religious practice as a means of exerting control over the people and assimilating them into the empire. That led to a group called the 'Maccabees' revolting and engaging the empire in guerilla warfare. They succeeded in winning back their religious freedom and took back the Temple in Jerusalem, which they cleansed and rededicated to Jewish religious practice.
"When it came time to light the Menorah- a seven-branched ceremonial lamp- they found nearly all the ceremonial olive oil had been used up for non-religious purposes, and they only had enough sacred oil to keep the Menorah lit for a single day. In spite of that, the oil lasted for eight days, which was how long it took to obtain more oil. Hanukkah commemorates the miracle of the lights and also the victory of the rebel forces- and if anyone says a single word about Star Wars, I will hunt you down on the next full moon."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Tony said quickly, and Mitchell laughed at him.
George glared at Mitchell, to absolutely no effect, and went on, "Anyway, for eight nights we light the eight-branched menorah one candle at a time, say the Hallel prayer and sing special songs, eat foods fried in oil, play the dreidel game, and give gelt or gifts." He smiled. "Although I think we've got that covered already."
"Go back to the fried foods," Clint requested.
"What did I tell you?" Tony giggled. "Favourite holiday ever."
"Yes, Tony, you're a genius," George agreed patiently.
"Why do you all keep sounding surprised when you say that?" Tony protested. Pepper patted his head consolingly.
"So, tomorrow we celebrate with fried chicken!" Clint went on, as though the others had not spoken. Loki raised himself up to look at Tony in astonishment.
"I am not sure if 'genius' is as appropriate a term as 'mind reader,'" he remarked.
"Barton, remind me to have a word with you about cultural sensitivity training," Coulson sighed. "Sorry, George."
"Aw, hey, George- I didn't mean to be an asshole," Clint said hastily.
"I know," George assured him. "It's fine. I can't promise you fried chicken, but I hope you'll like potato latkes."
Clint raised his tumbler of rum and eggnog in salute. "I have no doubt, man."
~oOo~
"You know what, George, I think I hate potato latkes."
Loki glanced up from the grater he was bent over, across the table at Clint, who was engaged in a similar manner. They had been engaged in this task since mid-morning, although to Loki it felt much longer. He was beginning to believe nothing existed in the world except for the vista of potatoes before him, waiting to be grated. At the sink, Steve and Agent Hill scraped the peeling from yet more of the tuberous vegetables to add to his sentence.
"How can you possibly know that you hate potato latkes when you haven't eaten any yet?" Steve argued.
Clint held up a badly scuffed hand. "I haven't eaten them, but they have had a go at eating me, or at least this damn grater has. And I hope these things aren't supposed to be vegetarian, because- "
Mrs. Coulson, on the other side of the room surrounded by the ingredients for making doughnuts, looked up. "Clint, would you be able to help me over here?"
Clint immediately looked embarrassed. "Sorry, Mrs. Coulson, I shouldn't be whining- " Catching sight of the astonishment his apology brought to the faces of his friends and colleagues, Clint actually blushed.
Thor nudged him out of the way. "It is my turn to assist with the potatoes. Go help with the doughnuts." Clint rose, washed his hands at the sink, and made his way to Mrs. Coulson's work station.
"Thank you, Clint," Mrs. Coulson smiled. "I could use one more set of hands- Natasha?" The Black Widow rose with alacrity from the sofa and went to help.
Loki returned his attention to the hill of grated potato before him, and the mountain range yet to be dealt with. "You are aware that I could do this more quickly with the use of a little magic, yes?"
"I was about to say I could probably jerry-rig some sort of grating machine," Tony spoke up. "I'm kind of sorry I didn't think to bring the bots along."
"Of course you could," George replied cheerfully, "but it's not really Hanukkah until someone scrapes a knuckle."
"Oh, it's Hanukkah, all right," Clint assured him.
"George, you said you brought a dreidel, right?" Tony asked. George nodded. "And it's made out of clay? Like in the song?"
"Oh great, now I have Raffi in my head," Annie complained as she grated onion- Annie had taken this task on the grounds that she was less affected by onion fumes than anyone else in the group.
"Mine's wooden, but yes, they're often made of clay," George agreed.
"Oh, good. And here I just happen to have a buttload of white sculpting clay and a box of wooden sticks in the storage room," Tony crowed.
"You really do have hosting superpowers," Rhodey congratulated him. Tony bowed.
~oOo~
Mrs. Coulson' doughnuts, cooked in a deep-fat fryer and shaken in sugar, turned out beautifully. She apologized for the lack of jelly in the centres, but no one seemed inclined to complain, or to leave many leftovers.
The potato latkes were perhaps a little less successful to begin with, the first few coming apart and ending up frizzled in the skillet. However, eventually the right consistency of potato, onion, egg and flour was reached, and Steve- already adept with the skillet- was soon flipping delightfully browned potato pancakes onto plates, to be garnished with sour cream and chopped green onion. Clint apologized handsomely for his earlier comments regarding the nature and antecedents of latkes, and Loki also felt his efforts had been worthwhile.
Following the meal, the group retrieved the dreidels they had made earlier of the sculpting clay, and then baked in the ovens to harden. Using markers, with George's dreidel as a model, they drew a Hebrew letter on each side: nun, gimmel, hey, and shin.
"We don't actually each need a dreidel," George had objected.
"No, but it's fun," Tony had replied, drawing his letters with great care.
George had brought a bag of almonds, which was supplemented with another of jelly babies, to use as game pieces. Everyone received a share, and broke into four groups to play rounds of the game.
"It's really pretty simple," George said nervously, concerned perhaps that the others would find it dull. "Everyone puts a single game piece in the bowl in the centre, and then you take turns to spin the dreidel and do as the letters tell you. If it lands showing nun, you do nothing. Hey means, take half the pot- or half plus one, if there's an odd number in the pot. Shin means you put one piece in the pot, and if it lands on gimmel you take the whole pot. If there's one or fewer pieces in the pot, everyone puts one more piece in, and let's say that if someone runs out of pieces, the person with the most pieces left lends them one."
"Commie game," Clint muttered. Natasha hit him.
Grinning, George went on, "The rounds ends when one person has won all the pieces, and that person goes on to the next round."
"This could take days," Natasha remarked.
"Well, yes," George admitted.
"Sounds like some of those all-night poker games we used to get into," Rhodey said to Tony.
"Not exactly," Tony murmured.
The game did not take quite that long, but it took three lengthy rounds to declare an overall winner. There were a few accusations of cheating directed by Clint toward Loki, who was in his opening-round group with George and Annie.
"How can you possibly accuse me of cheating when I hardly understand the game and I am losing?" Loki defended himself.
Clint gave him a narrow-eyed glare. "You've got that peaky look you get, when you cast magic for too long. And it's still cheating if you're making sure George or Annie wins." Annie, who was in the midst of a considerable run of luck, looked up sharply. George, with the most game pieces, sighed.
"Really, Loki?" he asked. Loki's expression of offended innocence did not appear to fool anyone, and George turned to Clint. "Do you want to start over?"
"Nah," Clint shrugged. "I shouldn't have said anything, I was kind of looking forward to seeing what he did when it was you and Annie going head-to-head."
"I intended to let nature take its course," Loki mumbled.
"Of course you were," Clint snickered.
"Well, if you've got any cheating magic to spare, Loki, I'm getting killed over here," Mitchell called across the room.
"Loki," Thor warned. Loki tried the offended look again. It failed again.
"Oh, very well," he huffed. It was his turn to spin, and he spun his dreidel, which landed on nun. "Your turn, Clint."
George's win in their group was not seriously contested by anyone, and he faced Steve in the next round, while Bruce played against Tony. The championship round pitted George against Bruce. Fortunately, the Hulk seemed to have no strong opinions on winning or losing, and when George proved the ultimate victor ("I had nothing to do with it!" Loki insisted) there were no… incidents.
And then George scrupulously divided up the almonds and candy among the others, and they sat eating and arguing in a desultory fashion about whether it was too late to begin watching Tony's copy of Fiddler On the Roof. It was only when Jane made an offhand remark about packing that Loki realized this was their final night at Tony's house.
Tony was thinking the same thing.
"We should have one final blowout breakfast tomorrow, before anyone has to catch a train or anything," he suggested. Looking suddenly embarrassed, he added, "I want to thank all of you for coming, guys. This is… I haven't had this much fun over the holidays in years. I really appreciate the way you've all humoured me."
"It's not humouring when you're having as much fun as we have," Steve replied warmly. "Like I said before- thank you for arranging all this."
"And for including us," Loki added, gesturing around at his friends. "It was thoughtful and very kind of you."
Tony looked for a moment as though he might repeat his performance of Christmas Eve and bolt from the room, but Pepper had a firm grip on his hand. Instead, he blushed and muttered, "Wouldn't have been the same without all of you. Thanks for playing along."
"Glad to do it," Fury said. "We should probably have a last toast to the Wool-White, Bell-Tongued Ball Of Holidays, and then watch that movie. Sound good?"
And everyone agreed that it did.