Title: Operation Christmas
Author: poppetawoppet
A Gift For: anuna_81
Rating:PG
Warnings:fluff. Crack. Fluffy crack.
Pairings:Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, team friendship
Summary/Prompt Used: a combination of 2 and 4: Every Christmas since they met, Natasha and Clint have been fighting for their lives/injured/on a mission. This Christmas, Clint has planned to give Natasha the Christmas she never had as a child. Until something happens and the rest of the team steps in to help.
Authors Notes:I had something completely different in mind (and I may still write it) but then it was the night before the deadline and I had thirty words written and I was drinking hot chocolate and bam! I hope you enjoy this! (And somehow this ended up very Natasha-centric, so I hope you don't mind how little Blackhawk there ended up being)


Banner by inkvoices



Prologue

"It's tradition, you know," Fury says.

Clint folds his arms and says nothing.

"Ok, ok, so breaking your ankle means you can't drive up to the cabin that you have prepared for Christmas. But it wouldn't be Christmas without you or Ms. Romanov in the hospital, or in dire peril."

"This year was going to be different," Clint mumbles.

"I know. That's why I called in back-up."

"Back-up?"

The door opens.

"All right, Barton," Fury says. "Give them their orders."

For the first time in days, Clint smiles.

"Okay, team," he says. "Operation Christmas is now in effect. Pepper, you're up first. I'd send Tony, but he'd end up buying the whole mall. And you know how distracted Thor gets."

*

Objective One: Santa

"You know, I've been Christmas shopping before," Natasha says.

"Yes, but this year we're on a mission," Pepper says.

"A mission."

"I'm supposed to cover, but I honestly couldn't think of any lie that didn't sound stupid. Frankly, you buy damn good presents. But Clint seems to think you've missed out on the whole Christmas thing, and I'm phase one."

"I see," Natasha says. "So, Christmas shopping at the mall?"

"No, actually," Pepper says, guiding Natasha towards a line. "Ever sat on Santa's lap?"

"I—"

"Good. Hope you know what to ask for."

*

Objective Two: Sledding

"Is this snow even real?" Natasha asks. "It doesn't feel real."

"Technically, snow is just crystallized water, so yes, this snow is technically real. Unfortunately with the warm front, it just didn't fall from the sky," Tony says.

"Are you saying that Clint ordered snow, Stark?"

"No, he just asked me to take you sledding. I just couldn't do it without snow, so I called some in."

"Sledding. I've been on a sled."

"Not like this," Tony says.

He holds up what looks like four slats of wood precariously attached to some skis.

"What is that?"

"Natasha, this is a sled."

"That's a piece of wood attached to some skis. I'm not even sure it's held together properly."

"That's part of the fun. Don't worry, there aren't that many trees in our way. I think."

Natasha laughs, "So you really expect me to get on that?"

"No, I expect both of us to get on it."

Tony grins and sets the sled in the snow.

"Come on, Romanov, I dare you."

"I must be losing my mind," she says, and climbs onto the sled.

*

Objective Three: Cookies

Natasha shakes her coat out, and hangs it by the cabin door.

"I see my husband managed not to kill you on his death trap," Pepper says.

"No. I think I may have scared him some though," Natasha says.

"This woman has a death wish," Tony says, coming in the door. "I don't think my life has flashed before my eyes more times in a single day."

"You dared me," Natasha says.

"Tony, what did we tell you about that?" Pepper says.

"So what now? Hot chocolate and marshmallows by the fire?"

"Nope. I think the kitchen is your next destination."

"Okay."

Natasha walks into the kitchen. Bruce is there, piling ingredients on the counter.

"Grab an apron, unless you want to get super messy."

Natasha puts it on, and rounds the counter.

"Let's see, eggs, flour, vanilla, sugar—"

"Cookies," Bruce says. "We're making and decorating cookies. The secret is that despite the exact science, all the fun is in messing up."

"Do we get to eat the dough?"

"Absolutely."

"Where do we begin?"

Bruce grins, "Well you know what I said about getting messy?"

"Yeah, I put on the apron."

"I lied," he says, grabbing a handful of flour, and throwing it at her.

*

Objective Four: Tree

"Why didn't we do this when I had my coat on earlier?"

"Because it wasn't time yet," Steve says. "Once we find a tree, then it'll be time to decorate it. And we have to have cookies while decorating."

Natasha shakes her head. "So why didn't we just go buy one of those artificial trees?"

"Nope. Not on my watch. Plus you get to pick it out."

"What if I pick the biggest tree I see?"

"Do you really think that's a problem?"

"Spoilsport. It's not fair having someone with super strength, then, is it?"

Steve grins and shrugs.

"Maybe next year, you can make Clint sweat it out. Until then, you're stuck with me."

Natasha looks at the trees, and crosses her arms.

"Okay, so why don't you help me find a good one."

"Deal. The secret to a great Christmas tree isn't actually in how it looks out here. You have to imagine it in the space you have, with all the decorations and presents. Plus it's always good to make sure nothing is living in it before you cut it down…"

*

Objective Five: Carols

"Now do I get hot chocolate and marshmallows?"

"Absolutely. Clint has them by the piano."

Natasha looks across the room at Clint. He holds up a mug decorated with snowmen. She walks across the room, ignoring Bruce and Tony, arguing over white versus colored lights.

"I see, this is all some elaborate seduction scheme," she says, ignoring his open lap.

"Well of course it is. Was," Clint says.

"Was? Barton, I just hauled an evergreen tree four miles in fake snow just to listen to Banner and Stark decide which is the most scientifically viable way to keep it green. If I don't get sex out of this, then you'll be very sorry."

Clint grins, "Want to bet how long it takes Steve to break it up?"

"No, because we both know Pepper is going to interrupt with an urgent call, and then Steve will distract Banner, while Thor puts the tree in water."

"Point. Why don't you sit down to watch then?"

"Because your lap is lumpy, and I suspect cuddling is probably objective six," Natasha says.

"Actually, cuddling is always the objective. But I can make it the next one if you want."

"No, now that I have the tree, I want to decorate it. But I was promised music."

Clint nods, and turns his body to the piano. "That you were. Thor?"

Thor puts down his section of garland and walks over.

"Natasha, did you know in Asgard, composing songs of the heroes is an honored position?"

"No, I didn't know that," she says.

"Yes. I have noticed the humans make all sorts of music, even bad kinds. But Christmas music, that is almost a song of the gods."

"Um. Christmas music—" Natasha stops herself as Clint shakes his head. Theological discussions never go well, and now is not the time.

"Okay, Christmas music," she says. "Let's do it. I'm sure Clint takes requests."

"How about the one about the mutant reindeer? I enjoy that one immensely."

"Mutant reindeer?" Natasha mouths to Clint as he begins the song.

"Just wait til we get to the possessed snowman," Clint says.

Thor puts his arm around Natasha's shoulder, and pulls her to the tree, his voice booming in song. When the chorus comes a second time, Natasha finds herself singing, too.

*

Final Objective: Cuddling

"I can't believe you won't let me open one present," Natasha says.

"Tomorrow is Christmas, it's soon enough," Clint says.

"What if there's an emergency?"

"Fury promised me if that if the world decided to end, he'd threaten to use intestine's as tree garland. Tomorrow."

"Fine. So where's my sexy Mrs. Claus outfit, if not wrapped up?"

"Not really into that. But now that you mention it—"

"Is there a jingle bell somewhere it's not supposed to be?"

Clint throws his head back and laughs. "Actually, it's cuddling time."

"Really?"

"I have every Christmas movie you have to see right here. Do you want to come sit and watch?"

Natasha climbed into the bed, taking the remote.

"What are my choices?"

"I have mutant reindeer, possessed snowman, kids discover the true meaning of Christmas, adult discovers the true meaning of Christmas—in many versions, no less—vacation gone awry, and strange creature with a tiny heart learns the true meaning of Christmas."

"Well, probably should go with the mutant reindeer, don't you think?"

"Good call."

She turns on the TV, and leans her head against Clint's shoulder. She laces her fingers with his, and squeezes gently, twice.

"We should do this every Christmas. New tradition," she says.

"Yeah?"

"Except next year, you're buying me a better sled."

"Deal. Merry Christmas, Tasha."

"You too, Clint."

The last thing she remembers before falling asleep is the reindeer saving the day, Clint's hands in hers, and the sound of snow falling.