The fact that Tony did his utmost to wrangle Phil and his team into attending the Avenger Christmas party does not surprise Steve. What does surprise Steve is that Phil agrees. Since they'd discovered that the man was not only alive but apparently back to work with a new team, things had been somewhat awkward. After the initial feelings of shock and anger and betrayal had mostly subsided, they'd collectively come to the realization that it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

If Phil had been concerned about their reaction to discovering the truth, then his behavior around them should have changed by now. Which only leads Steve to believe that has nothing to do with it. Because Steve may not have known Phil before, but he can say with a degree of certainty that there is something about him now that is decidedly different.

Oh, he laughs and smiles and jokes, he makes certain that everyone's getting on well at the party, but to Steve's eyes it's all a paper-thin veneer put in place to placate them. It doesn't escape his notice how the agent always lingers at the edge of the group, at the edges of conversations; involved just enough to not arouse suspicion, but far enough away to keep an escape route open.

So when Steve spots Phil sitting alone, he decides to remedy that. The agent is tucked into the corner of the sofa, nursing a glass of eggnog and gazing into the fire with sober eyes.

"This seat taken?" Steve asks, gesturing to the spot beside Phil.

Phil tears his gaze away from the flames, blinking up at Steve as though he really hadn't heard him approach.

"Not unless Stark invited Susan Storm without letting any of us know," Phil quips with a gentle smile. He nods towards the spot. "All yours."

"Thanks," Steve answers with a soft huff of laughter. "It's nice to take a little breather."

Phil hums in agreement.

"I'm glad you came," Steve says, easing back into his seat. "We all are."

Phil glances around him to the group at large and Steve can't help but feel warmed by the pleased little smile the agent gets on his face at the sight of them.

"Well, Skye's never really had a proper family Christmas and I'm betting Grant's very nearly in the same boat," he says. "Clint and Natasha were the same until I started forcing them into it. To be honest, it seems like most of them could do with a good old fashioned Christmas."

"And what about you?" Steve prods.

"If you'd heard how many times the kids have complained that I play my Christmas music too loud, you wouldn't be asking that question," Phil chuckles.

"I should've guessed, going by the sweater," Steve says, his tone warm and amused as he plucks at the elbow of the garment. It's a simple, beige cardigan with reindeer, snowflakes and Christmas trees stitched across the front in varying colors, but it's that understated style that suits Phil so very well.

"Well, Stark said no suit," Phil points out.

Steve laughs. "So you swapped a suit jacket for a Christmas sweater? Clever."

Phil smiles and ducks his head, thumbing the rim of his glass, still mostly full. There's a pause before he says, "I'm glad I came, too."

There is, again, that unexpected warmth in Steve's chest at the admission. "You know, I'd be even gladder if you came a little more often."

Phil's smile flickers briefly and Steve wonders if he's overstepped his bounds. He doesn't want to bully Phil into spending time with them—or him—but he can't every well help the fact that they all wish he was around a little more. He doesn't want to say that Phil's avoiding them, but he's not going out of his way to see them, either.

"I'll certainly try," the agent tells him. "It's been busy with my team, but I should make more of an effort."

Phil meets his gaze; long enough so that Steve knows he's telling the truth and long enough for Steve to notice just how tired he looks. The soldier knows that if Phil says it's busy, then that's probably putting it lightly, but looking at him now and seeing the exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders, Steve has to wonder if he's well enough to handle it. The details of the agent's revival and rehabilitation are a mystery to them, so he can't really say one way or another if Phil's completely healed.

"Only if you have time," Steve says. "Don't go running yourself ragged just because we're a little jealous."

"Jealous?" Phil echoes with a snort of laughter.

"You brought all of us together and moved on to a new group to shove into the team mold," Steve says with some amusement.

"You were already a team," Phil says, giving him a chastising look. "I had nothing to do with it."

"But you did," Steve corrects him. "More than you know, apparently."

Phil's lips draw into a thin line and he looks down again, frowning at his eggnog. If Steve concentrates, he can see the slight tremor to the agent's too-tight grip on his glass.

"I'm sorry, could we change the subject, please?" Phil asks.

Steve nods slowly. "Sure."

He wonders now if the exhaustion he's seeing is more than just the product of a busy schedule. Is this something else connected to Phil's strange behavior? At the very least, it seems he's made the other man uncomfortable. He starts to rise from his seat.

"I'm sorry. If you want me to go, I'll—"

"Don't."

Phil's interruption seems to surprise both of them. Steve's not complaining, though, as he lowers himself back into his seat.

"I didn't mean to make it seem as though you have to stay," Phil explains.

"I'm aware. I want to stay," Steve answers. "And if you'd just like to sit quietly for a while, then I'm happy to do so."

He sees something in Phil's eyes then, something like relief or gratitude, but he's not certain which. Maybe it's both. The resulting period of silence should be uncomfortable, but Steve finds that sitting beside Phil on the sofa, watching the fire crackle while the sounds of the party and Christmas music drift faintly over to them, is one of the more relaxing things he's done lately. It seems only natural to sling his arm around Phil's shoulders and despite a brief moment of tension, he doesn't think Phil minds very much, if his slouched posture is anything to judge by.

Steve's not sure of how much time passes, he just knows that he's feeling warm and boneless and stupidly content. Thankfully, he's still aware enough to notice Phil's gradually tipping glass of eggnog and reaches over to pry it from limp fingers before it spills. He'd like to put it down on the coffee table, but doing so would mean moving and considering that Phil had at some point fallen asleep against his shoulder, Steve's loathe to risk jostling him in any way.

Caught in the middle of his dilemma, he hardly notices the presence beside him before the glass is being taken from his hand. He looks up at his rescuer and offers a grateful smile as he mouths the words "thank you" to Melinda.

"Don't wake him," she says quietly. He watches her gaze move from him to Phil, where it lingers before turning back to him once more, hard and sharp, like she's looking to dig something out of him. "He doesn't sleep well when he's not in New York."

Steve doesn't need the unspoken but understood addendum of "where all of you are." He hears it loud and clear. There's something like bitterness to her words, like an admission of defeat, and Steve feels for her. He knows that feeling of regret, knows what it can do to you. Whatever Phil's struggling with, it's going to take a team effort to overcome and the way he sees it, she's just invited him onboard.

Steve's not sure what point he fell asleep at, just that Tony never was one to waste an opportunity to embarrass his friends. Which is why they're standing around outside the Bus as Tony shows off the photo he'd taken.

"And you wonder why I never come when you ask," Phil says, his cheeks a healthy pink as Tony waves around the photograph.

While Tony and Phil bicker, the photo manages to find its way to Steve's hands. Admittedly, a picture of them two of them cuddled up by the fire is about as good as you're going to get by way of blackmail material, but Steve finds he doesn't mind all that much. Quite the opposite actually. He wishes he could get a picture of the looks on everyone's faces when he looks up and addresses Tony.

"Tony, can I get a copy of this?" he asks.

Tony's jaw is nearly at the floor as Phil quickly turns a shade redder.

"Why?" Fitz asks, his eyes wide and round.

Steve shrugs. "Because I like it. It's a good picture."

"Should I make a copy for Phil? You guys can have matching lockets," Tony says.

"Don't push it, Tony," Steve sighs. He looks over to Phil. "You've got an assignment to get to, don't you?"

"Right," Phil says a little dumbly.

He recovers quickly, ushering his team towards the Bus while simultaneously threatening Tony with bodily harm if he doesn't destroy every copy of the photo. Steve waits patiently, watching them load up before they all make their goodbyes. With the right timing, he manages to catch Phil off to the side.

"So, you really don't like that photo, huh?" Steve asks.

"I'm… not sure how you'd like me to answer that question," Phil admits. "It's not a bad photo, it's just…"

"Tony," Steve finishes.

"That about sums it up," Phil sighs.

"Suppose it wasn't about Tony?" Steve prods.

"What are you suggesting?" Phil asks suspiciously.

"Well…"

They're calling for him, ready to leave and waiting on him, so Steve supposes it's now or never. He gets the same reaction of immediate tension followed by sudden relaxation as he dips down to press a kiss to the agent's cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Phil," he says.

In the distance he hears whistling and Skye's cry of "Yeah! Get some, A.C.!" but his focus is on the man in front of him and wondering if there's a chance he might be punched in the face.

"I have to go," Phil says hurriedly. Steve tries not to wince as disappointment sinks his stomach like a lead balloon. He's certain he's scared the man off until Phil looks up to meet his gaze and says, entirely straight-faced, "I'll be getting you back for that."

"Come around for New Year's?" Steve asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I'll see what I can do," Phil says. "In the meantime… you have my number."

"And you have mine," Steve answers. "Call it any time. I mean it. Any time at all."

Phil's mild answering smile tells him that the agent knows just what he's saying. It feels strange now, to watch him head off, but at the very least they've got New Year's to look forward to. And if he has to put up with more than a little teasing after the Bus takes off, well, it's entirely worth it. And if he does get a copy of the photo to keep in his wallet, that's entirely his own business.

Sometimes, Steve reflects as he sits on the edge of his bed and dials Phil's number, the best gifts are the ones that aren't wrapped.