Part One

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Clint Barton looks disdainfully, first at the brown paper bag that's been thrust in his face, then up at the holder of the bag. In an attempt to be festive, someone has written the words " Secret Santa Drawing" on the bag in droopy silver glitter glue. The glitter is flaking off all over the bag, making it look like one of Wayne Newton's tuxedos.

The guy holding out the bag grins. He's a young guy, one of SHIELD's IT men.. Clint has absolutely no idea what his name is and doesn't even hazard a guess. "Your turn to draw a name, Agent Barton," The kid grins again, giving away what Clint already knows is a setup. It's a long standing Christmas tradition at SHIELD- the 'secret Santa' drawing is legit. But a few years ago, a couple of goofy agents got it into their heads to send a rookie agent around with the bag, holding only one piece of paper inside. A pre-selected gag.

Clint plunges his hand into the bag...sure enough,empty except for one piece of paper floating around. He retrieves it and pulls out his hand, now covered in glitter. The rookie agent scurries away, his task complete. Clint unfolds the piece of paper and sighs, already knowing whose name is on it:

Natasha Romanoff.

Clint frowns, tucks the  paper into his pocket, and turns back to the computer he's using to finish typing out his latest mission report. From the other side of the table, Agent Steve Baldwin sticks his head around the computer he's using, and grins at Clint.

"Hey, Barton... You know, if you need some ideas on what to get Romanoff for Christmas..." he whistles appreciatively.

Clint scowls even as he feels his cheeks burning red. "Shut up, Steve", he mumbles.

Another agent from the end of the table pipes up. " You know, Barton, redheads look good in leather..."

Both Baldwin and the other agent guffaw, obviously enjoying Clint's discomfort. Clint ignores them, grits his teeth, and finishes typing his report. When he's done he leaves the computer room and and heads for the elevator that will take him to his living quarters on the third floor. He wearily eyes the newly hung garland that decorates the outside of the elevator, and when he steps inside the elevator he groans to hear jazzy Christmas music playing. He wonders how much Nick Fury can do about addressing all this over doneness.. after all, Thanksgiving was just a week ago.

He remembers the slip of paper in his pocket and frowns again, wondering what to do about it. He knows if he got one, then Natasha probably has too.

Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff have been partners for almost a year.... Clint wonders if she's expecting him to get her something, regardless of whether or not he's pulled her name from a rigged bag. What's the correct protocol in this partner situation? The last few Christmases with Bobbi, they hadn't exchanged gifts, because they hadn't been speaking. Last Christmas he had spent separated and alone, and spent the whole day in bed in his SHIELD apartment. He has the quick thought that if Natasha wasn't his partner, if he was working with another male agent, he wouldn't have to worry about it at all. He never gives Coulson a gift. But he dismisses the idea, because Coulson and Natasha can't really be compared, and anyway, Natasha.. it's different. He cares about Natasha. He wonders...

The door of the elevator pings open, and Clint almost collides with SHIELD's postman, who has finished his beat on the third floor and called the elevator. Clint mumbles an apology and skirts down the hall to his quarters. Before pulling out his card key, he checks the mail slot on the wall. He never has anything. Obviously, bills aren't an issue, and he only occasionally gets a bank statement forwarded from a post office box he still keeps in Iowa as his public address. He laughs inwardly, wondering if he's expecting a Christmas card. His laugh turns to surprise when his fingers pull out a thick white envelope of good quality, forwarded from his PO box in Iowa and addressed to a 'Mr. Clint Barton' in neat cursive penmanship. The name and address in the upper left corner state the sender to be a 'Mrs. Laura Worth', and she lives in a suburb of Des Moines. Clint stands outside his door for a long moment, wracking his brain for any Lauras he may know, past or present... Nothing. He lets himself in his apartment, and puts on a pot of coffee to perk before setting down.  He looks around for the knife he usually carries, wanting to use it to neatly slice open the envelope, but it's gone. Again. He always seems to be misplacing it. He sighs, and rips the side of the envelope open. Sure enough, he withdraws a Christmas card, and it is drenched  in glitter. He sighs as some of it rains down onto the table. He opens the card, to discover that this Laura has written a whole letter inside and around the cheesy Christmas greeting inside.

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