December 25, 2012
Steve isn’t surprised that they’re the only two who answered the call today. He just wishes he changed sweaters instead of just grabbing his shield. If Lieutenant Hill is amused by his Rudolf sweater with the blinking nose, she doesn’t show it.
“Loud sweater party,” Steve explains unnecessarily as he steps inside the quinjet. She blinks twice in rapid succession, her head turning from the tablet to his chest and back again as if it hadn’t even registered.
“I don’t think the gangs know it’s Christmas,” she says.
"Why is this under Avenger jurisdiction?”
She rotates the tablet so he can see the screen. “Ah.”
They find the gangsters holding court in the sewer system below Midtown. Twenty eight gang members, five Chitauri blasters and a grazed knee later, Hill drops him off at Stark Tower.
A trio of hover drones meets them on the helipad, circling around the open hanger of the quinjet. A perfectly timed chorus of Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home) streams from their speakers. Steve can’t help the grin that tugs at his lips when he sees the mistletoe clutched to the grappling hook of each drone.
His smile falters when he turns to Hill and her face registers boredom.
“Did you know that mistletoe is parasitic?” She says, voice dry. “An apt symbol of love if you ask me.”
“So, no kiss?”
She arches a brow. “Any part of you that touches me, Captain, you’re not getting back.”
Definitely no kiss.
December 25, 2014
Its unnatural to Maria for Christmas day to be this hot, but the Australian’s flocking to Bondi beach don’t seem to mind. It’s not that Maria doesn’t like the holidays, it's more that she doesn’t see why everything has to stop because of them.
“You have excessive vacation days,” Pepper said. “Human resources are on my back about it again. This isn’t SHIELD. Take time off. That’s an order.”
Checking in on Banner and two relocated SHIELD agents probably wasn’t what Pepper had in mind. Still, it didn’t take anywhere near as much time as Maria had hoped. Banner resolutely refused to talk shop and the two agents seemed rather preoccupied trying to host a street Christmas party.
That’s how she found herself lured by the masses onto the dunes. There’s a reason beaches and paperbacks go hand in hand. After five minutes the screen of her tablet is hot. She’s already sick of blowing grains of sand off it, and if one more person splashes as they head out of the water, there’s going to be an international incident.
Maria’s jaw sets as a shadow looms over her. She’s preparing a back off speech when the familiar scent of him hits her. Clean, sweet and yet utterly masculine. When Steve’s lips graze her bare shoulder though, she scoots away.
“We’re on the other side of the world,” he says, eyes hidden behind aviator sunglasses. “No one’s going to see.”
She doesn’t know if it’s charming, naive or just plain stupid to think that an ocean could erase his identity and her duty. She never expected that one moment’s lapsed judgement would turn into a series of moments that neither of them seems willing to disturb. What she does know is that shield or no shield, he’s still tall, blonde and gorgeous and there are people looking.
“Sam?”
“It’s Christmas,” Steve says. “He went home for the holidays.”
Even though she can’t see his eyes, the sunken set of his shoulders and the tension in his forearms tells her more than his words. They’ve hit another dead end searching for the Winter Soldier. Captain America has no home for the holidays. It still makes her heart seize that his best alternative is her.
They sit there getting tanned until the beach is almost empty and the sun is nothing more than an orange speck in the horizon. She doesn’t know when her head dropped onto his shoulder or when his arm draped around her waist. Only that as far as vacations go, this one wasn’t a complete waste of time.
December 24, 2015
Steve checks his list for the third time before he nods at Stark and they push open the door to Maria’s office. She looks up from her conversation with Helen as they enter, her stern mask already crossing over into irritation.
“Here we go again,” Helen says. She rolls her eyes but instead of clearing out, rests her chin in her hands. Steve’s gotten used to her sarcastic humour in the months they’ve worked together, but today he wishes Maria would make friends with women who weren’t so…intimidating.
“No,” Maria says without listening to their appeal. “No more.”
Stark glares at him as if to say, You’re sleeping with her. Make this happen!
Steve glares back at him trying to convey a different message, You pay her salary. Don’t be a chicken!
Steve clears his throat. “Just hear us out. We’ve got a list of reasons.”
“I don’t care if you have an order from the high court. It’s not happening.”
“Read the list,” Stark says out of the corner of his mouth. As though he think if they’re quick they’ll trick her into allowing this party.
“One, its Christmas. Two, it’s good for morale.” He speeds up when she clicks her laptop shut, a sure sign of her patience wearing thin. “Three, Stark promises not to let things get out of hand.” He has to pause when Maria snorts at that. “Four, we promise to clean up afterwards. Five, It’ll be Visions first Christmas ever.”
There. Perfectly good reasons to throw an Avengers Christmas party.
Maria however, appears unmoved. By rights, they could just do it. But they both know without her approval the others won’t fall in line and she could shut it down in a second.
“Let’s run through the damage report from Thanksgiving shall we?” Maria says. She doesn’t even need the laptop for that. The figures appear to be etched in her memory. It’s no wonder because she had to front up to Capitol Hill for that one.
“Okay,” Stark says. “I’ll admit there might have been some wrinkles that needed to be ironed out, but it’s Christmas. Reach into that tin chest and find a beating heart.”
“Tony!” She might be firm, but she’s Steve's, and after everything she’s done for them, Maria has every right to be apprehensive. If Steve wasn’t blindsided by an all consuming love of Christmas, he’d probably say no too.
It’s Helen who unexpectedly comes to the rescue. “You know,” she says, “Wanda’s not doing so well this time of year. Maybe a party will take her mind off her first Christmas without her brother.”
Tony high fives him when Maria sighs and hangs her head in reluctant resignation. “I want nothing to do with any of it,” Maria says to their backs as they race out the door.
While the party is still raging, Steve finds her standing alone on the observation deck. She turns when she hears his footsteps and slips the phone into her purse. The combination of her red dress, hair curling loosely around her neck and the pensive smile she gives him makes his mouth dry.
“You look beautiful,” Steve says, taking her into his arms. “Dance with me.”
He expects a protest but she steps into his embrace and rests her head on his shoulder. A thrill of apprehension twists his heart. “Maria? What’s wrong?”
Her breath on his neck sends ardent heat through his body. “Not today. It’s Christmas. Let’s just be normal today.”
If this is normal, Steve would give up special in a heartbeat.
December 25 2016
“You came,” he says, as though surprised she kept her word. Maria thought she’d find them weary, battle worn and bitter. But the quiet smiles on their faces as they pile on behind Steve say otherwise. She should have known that Steve would look after his men better than he’d look after himself.
Well, almost better. Two days ago a civilian reported the location of their last safe house. Eighteen hours ago, Maria had gotten a call from Sam to say that Lang had taken a hit and needed urgent medical attention. Six hours ago, Maria took emergency personal leave and borrowed one of SHIELD’s stealth vehicles.
Steve holds the door to the suburban weatherboard home for her. He reaches out to lighten the load in her arms.
Maria flinches, sidesteps, and jams her fingers between the box and the wall. She’s forgotten just how small space becomes when he’s around.
His physical wounds have all but healed. Hers will get there eventually. It’s the other wounds, the ones that EMTs can’t patch that are causing lasting damage.
“I can’t just let you go, Steve,” She’d said, finger on the trigger.
“Then come with me. You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m sorry.”
She’d made her choice. Living with it is proving harder than Maria thought.
It’s Clint who steps in to relieve her of the medical supplies and the encoded phone that dials Helen's number.
Now it’s just a waiting game.
Hurried footsteps thump down the stairs. Wanda appears in the living room, trailing dark hair behind her.
“They didn’t tell me you were coming,” Wanda says. After a long pause of hesitation, she holds out her arms. Maria can’t help smiling at the red tinsel circling both of Wanda’s wrists before she presses Wanda to her chest.
Perhaps Steve’s head bows to give them their privacy. Perhaps it’s to hide the grim set of his lips that Maria knows she has no right to still covet. Especially since she wasn’t the last woman to kiss them.
I miss you, Wanda says in her mind. And then a moment later, but not as much as he does.
“How’s Rhodey?” Sam wants to know. Vision will ask her the same question about Barnes when she returns. This is the problem with the Accords. It stops them from talking even if it doesn’t stop them caring. She’s getting tired of being the in between. Yet again.
Later, when Lang’s vitals finally stabilize and Maria prepares to leave, Clint hands her two red envelopes. “For Laura and my kids,” he says. “And Lang’s little girl.”
“For Vision,” Wanda steps up, adding to the pile.
Sam slides the last to her just as she closes the door behind herself. “Merry Christmas, Maria.”
Very merry indeed.
Somehow she’s managed to land the role of Santa Claus. It isn’t until she’s finished delivering the rest that Maria reads the name on the front of the envelope Sam gave her. It’s not Sam’s messy scrawl but Steve’s neat cursive that spells out her name. With trembling fingers she removes the card and opens it.
Inside is a drawing done chibi style of a very wide eyed Steve Rogers pushing an oversized pink heart against her right cheek. On his chest is a big, black, heart shaped hole. Her caricature is narrow eyed, arms crossed with a teardrop hanging just above her dark hair. Inside the speech bubble next to her mouth are the words:
Any part of you that touches me, Captain, you’re not getting back.
At the bottom of the page: No matter what happens, I don’t want it back. ~ Steve
Maria slams her foot on the brake. The illegal U turn she makes earns her one obscene gesture, two suggestions to go to hell and five aggravated horn blares. It’s a small price to pay for sudden clarity. She programs the address of the safe house into her guidance system. The Accords and the mess surrounding it can be a problem for tomorrow. Today she’s going to allow herself to be happy for once.
Today, she’s going home.