A Very Merry Christmas

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Summary: Natasha goes to bed on Christmas Eve expecting to spend the next day alone with Steve still gone on a mission.  When she wakes up, she's definitely dreaming because why else would Steve be in her kitchen making breakfast and wearing a Santa hat?

Natasha had never been one for the holidays.  Growing up in the Red Room, she never celebrated them.  The only thing holidays were good for was completing complicated missions successfully since everyone's guard was down.  In fact, if you didn't succeed on a mission over the holidays for whatever reason, you were often punished more severely than if you'd failed on a regular day.  Natasha had quickly learned holidays were for quick, successful murder and nothing else.  At least, until she met the Avengers.

It had only been about eight years since she had officially joined the team, but upon the insistence of everyone, she'd started spending every holiday with them.  Now, she was used to the festive parties that included only the Avengers and the happy little traditions the team had created.  About three years ago, she and Steve had started dating which added a whole new meaning to the holidays.  For the past three Christmases, she'd woken up to Steve cooking waffles and a few scattered presents on the table.  This year, though, would be the first time in three years that wouldn't happen as Steve was gone on a long term mission and not expected back for another month.

Natasha insisted she didn't care every time she talked to either Steve or another teammate.  She had Liho and would join the team later in the morning for their regular celebrations.  Steve felt the need to apologise every chance he got and Natasha had begun to tell him she'd be miserable if he didn't stop worrying about it.

"Just come back safely,"  she told Steve over the phone, glancing at the clock above the TV.  "I don't care if it's February as long as you don't come back in a body bag or whatever horrible condition you return in."

"Alright,"  Steve chuckled.  Natasha smiled and looked back down at the open book on her lap.  She'd originally planned on reading late into the night, then Steve had called and no reading had been done.

"I love you,"  she said.

"I love you too,"  he replied.  With that, he hung up and Natasha was left to either stay up even later and read or go to bed.

She looked at the clock again and sighed when she realised it was already 1AM.  Closing her book, she set it on the couch and stood up, going back into her bedroom to change and get ready for bed.  There was no use staying up late when there was nothing to do.

* * *

The next morning, Natasha woke up to a little bit of light streaming into her room.  She cracked open her eyes and glanced at the digital clock by her bed, but stopped short when she saw a light on outside her bedroom.  Her door was cracked and light trickled in from around the corner even though she knew for a fact she'd shut her door and flicked off every light in the house before going to bed.  She silently slipped out of her bed and grabbed the gun she kept in her nightstand.  She'd moved it from under her pillow after Steve moved in, but it never strayed far for exactly this reason.

She was glad her door didn't creak as she pulled it open and tiptoed down the hall.  The light seemed to be coming from the kitchen which was incredibly strange.  Who would rob someone's kitchen?  It didn't matter, though, as she continued towards the kitchen to stop whoever it was.

Before she turned and shot at the intruder, she paused.  What kind of intruder hummed Christmas songs to themselves and why did she smell waffles?  She peered around the corner and froze at the sight of a shirtless Steve Rogers wearing a Santa hat.  Even with his back covered in bruises and facing her, she knew exactly who it was.

"Steve?"  she asked.  He spun around and grinned at her.  "You're not supposed to be back for another month."

"Yeah, Fury let me leave after I got thrown from a four story building,"  Steve told her sheepishly.  Natasha's eyes widened and she looked down at his torso.  Just like his back, his abdomen was covered in bruises of various shapes and sizes.

"God, Steve, I told you to do one thing and you can't even do that,"  she groaned.  Steve just chuckled and walked towards her.

"I'm alive, aren't I?"  he asked, opening his arms.  She sighed and stepped forward to hug him gently.

"Whatever,"  she muttered, burying her face in his chest as he kissed the top of her head.

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