Gifts and Lip-locks

(Christmas part 2)

After everyone was finished with their breakfast, we all slowly migrated to the living room and settle into a rough circle, with Jane and Thor taking a couch, Clint and I taking a love seat, Natasha sitting at my feet, Bruce in a recliner with Betty perched on the arm, Steve, Dad, and Bucky taking an armchair each.

I grab the first gift, a red wrapped box with a black bow, meaning it was for Natasha. Instead of using name tags, because apparently my dad and I couldn't be trusted not to write embarrassing nicknames, we just wrote who it was from and color-coded the presents based on intended recipient. Red with black ribbon was Natasha, red with gold ribbon was Dad's, blue with red ribbon was Steve's, silver with red ribbon was Bucky's, green with purple ribbon was Bruce's, green with silver ribbon was Betty's, light blue with silver ribbon was Jane's, purple wrapping with silver ribbon was Clint's, and purple with no ribbon was mine.

(Apparently the over ten rolls of wrapping paper and over twenty spools of red and silve ribbons came out of Stark Industries bank account for, and I quote, "team building activities.")

I pass the present down to Natasha, who takes it and opens it to find upgraded Widow Bites, with double the voltage of her last ones.

I reach forward and pat her on the shoulder. "I really hope they work, we had to fry an entire farm worth of pigs to test those."

"Is that why you both suddenly wanted pork for a month?" Steve asks, looking a bit green.

"Um..." I squirm in my seat and shrink slightly. "Maybe?"

He squints at me, but thankfully I'm saved from his scrutiny by my dad shoving a present at him.

I relax as Steve hesitantly lets it go, ripping open his present to find a small box containing a single index card. "What's this?"

"Contact information." Natasha explains. "For one ex-agent Sharon Carter, a Donald Dugan, a Macy Jones, Jules Mortia, Jim Montgomery, and a Jacquline Dernier. I'm not kidding," she adds at Steve's suspicious look, "I swear. All the kids of your old team. They're all really big Captain America fans."

"It's from me too," Clint adds. "You might not be able to bring them back, but at least you can find their kids."

I watch as Steve begins to blink rapidly. "Guys..."

"Oh, no you don't." Clint bolts from his seat, ending up perched on the back of the couch and using me as a human shield. "Don't you dare cry on us. I do emotions about as well as Robot Sr. and Robot Jr."

I reach behind my head and, aim true as always, flick his forehead.

Natasha sighs. "Sit down, will you? Steve, you're welcome. Are you okay?"

Steve nods, swiping a hand over his eyes. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine. Thank you."

She grins at him and grabs the next present, a green one with purple ribbon. "Bruce?"

He takes the present and studies it for a while. "Is it going to explode?"

I roll my eyes and pout. "Geez, you rig one box one time..."

My dad crosses his arms. "Ye of little faith."

"I have complete faith...in your ability to blow crap up."

I chuckle as Bucky sighs exasperatedly and sits beside Bruce in a crouch. "Here. Now, if it explodes, I tackle you and all is well."

Bruce glances at him as he finally begins to carefully unwrap his gift, still not trusting my father or I. Once's he's finally unwrapped it fully, he pulls out a keychain of a die cast metal fist, with Dr. Robert Bruce Banner engraved on the underside and One and the Same on the other side. "Was this Tony or Taylor?"

I raise my hand. "Guilty."

He grins at me. "Thanks for accepting the Other Guy enough to give me this."

I give him a small grin and nod. "The only thing to fear is fear itself." I laugh as everyone groans, Clint face palming and giving me an odd look.

Bruce shakes his head at me before grabbing the next present, a light blue one. "Jane, this is from Taylor."

Jane grins and takes the box, quickly unwrapping it to find a little black device about the size of a GameBoy, with a small screen, a blue button, and a green button. "Um...thanks?"

I snicker. "You can talk to it, you know. Press the green button."

She pokes the button as instructed, gasping at the device hums to life, the screen lighting up with a message that says Hello, Dr. Foster. "Wow..."

"That's not all," I continue. "Tell it the name of a planet, galaxy, star, anything you want."

"Okay." Jane looks thoughtful for a moment, before apparently deciding and announcing "Andromeda Galaxy."

The device buzzes as her choice shows up on the screen. "Now press the blue button."

She does, and a blue hologram of the galaxy show up in the air above the device. Jane's jaw drops. "I...I...you..."

"No need to thank me," I say sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes at me as she tucks the device away, probably for further investigation later.

Steve reaches over and grabs the next present, this one for Bucky, who rips it open eagerly - the feared ex-HYDRA assassin's face the epitome of excitement.

He pulls out a set of knitting needles. "Okay, who found out?"

Steve laughs and raises a hand. "I didn't find out, I remembered," he corrects. "Do you still knit?"

Bucky nods and quickly grabs Steve in a hug that looks like it forced the air out of even the super soldier. "Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou-"

Steve gently pulls Bucky off. "You're welcome, bud."

"You can knit?" I question curiously.

Bucky actually blushes and nods timidly. "Yeah...back when this punk was sick all the time, I would be at his bedside for days at a time, and his Ma had a knitting club. She taught me, and it turns out I was actually pretty good at it."

"You gave me the ugliest sweaters for years." Steve groans mournfully, Bucky reaching over to whack him on the shoulder.

"I think it's a good idea," Natasha announces. "It's a nice talent to have."

And then all criticism of Bucky's slightly-outlandish hobby comes to a dead halt, because nobody dares contradict the Black Widow, for she will mess you up.

I hide a laugh at everyone's expressions behind a hand as I reach over to grab the next gift, which was going to Betty.

Betty tears off the wrapping paper to find a manila envelope containing multiple restraining orders, cease and desist orders, and many other measures to keep her, Bruce (and Hulk), and the rest of us away from General Thaddaeus "Thunderbolt" Ross, because I've heard he's had his eye on Steve in the past and I don't doubt that Clint's eyesight is a point of interest for the twisted general.

"This says you're all 'hereby under the official protection of Stark Industries and the affliliated Avengers, including the secondary group of Doctors Jane Foster, Elizabeth Ross, and Ms. Darcy Lewis.'" Betty reads shakily.

"He can't find you now," my dad assures her gently. "There isn't a dark corner we can't see."

Betty notes her lip, the room falling silent as she regains her composure, Bruce giving her arm a light squeeze.

After a few minutes, Betty grabs the next gift and hands it to me.

Before unwrapping it, I check it carefully for any signs of movement, vibration, heat, or anything else suspicious. Finding nothing, I eagerly open it to find a box of car accessories: a leather steering wheel cover, seat covers, and floormats; all designed purple and black, with the Greek letter beta that I had adopted as my logo a few years ago.

I laugh. "I love them."

"We thought you would." Jane is grinning, motioning between herself and Betty. "Darcy, too. Anything to feed your narcissism."

"винт вас тоже!" I reply. Jane just looks confused as Natasha and Clint burst out laughing.

"Okay then..." Jane scoots away from, partially hiding herself behind Thor.

I laugh and grab a gift, one with gold ribbon, and pass it to my dad.

He grabs the gift and unwraps it with childlike eagerness to find a piece of paper. "Really?!"

I reach over and glance at the sheet, taking out my phone and entering the coordinates, flipping the phone around to show him what comes up.

"A. E. Stark Coffee Production?" he looks up at me. "I have a farm?"

I take a moment to laugh at his dumbstruck expression before nodding. "Yeah, we bought you a farm."

"We?"

"Well, Natasha went to Vienna and found the land, Steve convinced the previous owners to sell it with his 'good old America's Golden Boy' charm, Bruce and Betty made sure the coffee would actually grow healthy, we've got Thor making sure there's never a drought, and I hired everyone and bought the land and tied up the loose ends." I explain, pointing to each Avenger as I explain their part.

Dad raises an eyebrow. "And your boyfriend was doing what?"

"Well he wanted to kidnap you and take you to your new farm," I admit with a glance at Clint, who suddenly became very interested in his slippers, "but we didn't want either of you to end up dead or in jail - again - so I just forced him onto the jet with Natasha."

My dad nods, leaning away from Clint. "Oh. Well...thanks. I, uh, really-"

"I know." I cut him off. "Stop before you hurt yourself."

He nods, sending me a grateful look as he relaxes back into his chair, grabbing the next present and handing it to Clint. "Feather brain."

Clint huffs but takes the box anyways, carefully checking it over before opening it and pulling out a wooden arrow with a stone tip and reddish-tan feathers.

"They are hand-crafted arrows, Friend Hawk!" Thor explains in his ridiculously loud voice. "Made from the finest hands on Asgard! The feathers are chosen from the tail of the Rødeøynefugl!"

Clint gives Jane a questioning look.

"Red eye bird," Jane explains. "Equivalent to a hawk."

Clint nods with an 'oh' expression. "Thanks, Pickachu."

Thor doesn't seem to mind the nickname, instead just clapping my boyfriend on the shoulder hard enough for him to gasp and slump into me.

I allow Clint a moment of recovery from that encounter before nudging him up to grab the next present and give it back to Thor, who doesn't bother with caution, instead just ripping the package in half.

"Good thing that wasn't fragile," I murmur to Clint.

"Give me one good reason why we would give Thor something fragile," he returns, just as quiet.

Thor's device is a softball-sized sphere with a padded outside and a small screen. "What is this mysterious object?"

"Hello, Prince Thor." the device hums.

Thor drops the ball, but it just bounces once before lying still. "It spoke to me!"

I nod and reach over to pick up the red ball, handing it to the god. "Ask it a question."

Thor blinks. "What is your name, mysterious device?"

"I am Jarvis, Price Thor."

Thor glances at the device, and then the ceiling, and then the device again. "But Friend Jarvis is in this tower, is he not?"

"Yeah," I nod, "but he's in there too. You can ask him any question you want, Shakespeare, and he'll answer you."

"Thank you, Lady Stark!" Thor booms, wrapping me in a crushing hug before I can politely refuse. "You have give me the gift of knowledge of your home!"

"Yeah...okay...Thor," I gasp out, "I...cannot...breathe..."

He lets me go, and I fall bonelessly into Clint. "My apologies, Lady Stark."

I can just nod wordlessly.

The gift giving goes on for a while after that; with Natasha giving everyone a personalized knife, Steve getting a gun with a bigger handle to fit his hands, Betty, Bruce, and Jane each getting a new book on their professed subjects, Dad and I getting a new set of tools, and a few other small gifts.

Around noon, Bruce, Jane, and Steve all get up to make lunch. Clint grabs my hand and pulls me down a darkened side hallway.

"What are we doing?" I ask.

Clint doesn't reply, instead just giving me a heart-melting grin and pushing a small jewelry box into my hands. "Merry Christmas, sparrow."

I suck in a breath as I stare at the box in my hands, gingerly pulling off the purple ribbon and peeling off the wrapping paper. "You didn't have to-"

"Of course I did," he snorts, leaning against the doorway. "Come on, open it!"

"Alright, calm down." I mumble. Once I finally get all the paper off, I open the dark purple velvet box and gasp.

Nestled in the fabric is a necklace; the pendant being an onyx stone about the size of Clint's thumbprint with a gold heart in the center and a matching, slightly raised, edge. Engraved on the necklace is tiny words, too small for the naked eye to read.

"It's I love you in 120 languages." Clint explains in a hushed tone. "Wǒ ài nǐ, je vous aime, ich liebe dich, ti amo, se agapó..."

"я люблю тебя." I cut him off with a chaste kiss. "I'm a lucky girl, you know that?"

He says nothing, just giving me an endearing look. He glances up at the doorway above us. "Look up."

I glance up, grinning as I see a sprig of mistletoe.

"Merry Christmas." Clint whispers just before slamming his lips to mine in a searing kiss.

I internally smile as I wrap my arms around his neck, his own arms hugging my waist and lifting me up a few inches to stand on my tip-toes.

The kiss deepens quickly, his tongue probing my lower lip seeking entrance which is soon allowed, our tongues writhing in a battle for dominance as his grip on my waist tightens and he walks me back against the nearest wall as I shift closer to him, pressing our bodies flush together as I tilt my head to allow him better access and slide my hands down to trace the neckline of his navy blue sweater.

We only break apart when we both become dizzy for lack of air.

I pant heavily as I lean my head back against the wall with his arms still around me, staring at my boyfriend; taking in his dilated pupils, nearly hiding all of his grey irises, and red, kiss-swollen lips. I grin. "That was fun."

"No kidding," he chuckles breathlessly. Clint leans down to give me one last, lighter kiss before letting me go and bending down to pick up the dropped jewelry box. "Here."

"Can you put it on me?" I ask, and he nods. I turn around and let him drape the necklace around my neck, clasping it and setting it down, but not before dropping another sneaky kiss onto my neck.

I blush slightly as I turn back around, fixing my sweater and the necklace, it's gold chain glinting in the light I give a soft smile before giving Clint a hug before leading the way back to the living room to find the other Avengers and their girlfriends/boyfriend (I was convinced, even if Steve wasn't) animatedly moving around my room.

My eyes find the source of the excitement: as usual, my father, who was standing in the middle of the room with...a microphone in his hand?

"Hey, where have you been? Wait, no, scratch that, I don't want to know. Oh, we're about to start karaoke! Come on!"

"Oh, no."