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Title: We Wish you a Covert Christmas, and a Clandestine New Year
Author: TaleWeaver![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nessataleweaver
A Gift For:book_junkie007
Rating: PG+15
Warnings: sexual innuendo, violence, swearing, political maneuvering, and maybe Santa abuse (not the real one, though!).
Pairings: Clint/Natasha
Summary/Prompt Used: Five Christmas-time missions Clint and Natasha did as a favor to Nick Fury, and one Christmas-time favor he did them in return
Disclaimer: The Characters herein belong to Marvel, not me. The story is mine mine mine.
Author's Notes: For the Be_Compromised bar’s Secret Santa party of 2012. ( Mission #2 was mostly inspired by the Secret Santa Banner of Clint and Natasha in the snow. )
Calendar Note: According to my research ‘the twelve days of Christmas’ actually last from December 25 (Christmas Day) to January 5 (Twelfth Night or Ephiphany – see the first part). So they count as ‘Christmas-time’ too, not just the days that show up on the Advent calendars.
Banner byinkvoices
1. We Three Kings of Orient Are (That we are pretending to be)
“Why, exactly, are we doing this?” Natasha asked in puzzlement.
Infiltration, interrogation, and assasination were things she understood. But she couldn’t help but feel that the Red Room’s training didn’t really cover this situation.
“It’s a family sort of thing,” Agent Barton explained to her. “Danielle Adams, formerly Danielle Hondo, is Fury's sister."
I knew that ridiculous name was assumed, Natasha thought in satisfaction.
“- and she’s just had a baby. Named Nicholas after Fury, no less. But also probably because he was born on December sixth.”
“Oh!” Natasha realized. “The Feast’s day of Saint Nicholas.”
“Anyway, keeping with the Christmas theme, the kid’s being christened on January fifth – Twelfth Night.”
“Otherwise known as Epiphany. The date the Three Wise Men arrived in Bethlehem and brought their gifts to the Christ Child.”
“Exactly. But Fury’s got to miss it, partly because of the damn Council, partly because otherwise he’ll get all sorts of questions about the broken arm. Last time he broke something was right before his sister’s wedding, and he had a great time telling everyone who asked a different lie about his ankle – I think my personal fave was when he told the best man that he’d been kept captive as a sex slave in the Playboy Mansion, and he broke the ankle peeling the last Bunny off as he escaped,” Agent Barton snickered. “But with his dominant hand in a sling, if he knocks out his brother in law with a single punch again it’ll raise questions, and his sister will probably cry. And if there’s something Fury can’t take, it’s seeing his sister cry.”
Natasha frowned. “So, we will present extravagant presents in an ostentatious fashion, and hope that the spectacle overwhelms her hurt and indignation about Colonel Fury missing such an important occasion. But why us?”
“We don’t have anything better to do,” Agent Barton shrugged. “Lots of SHIELD agents don’t have families, but as the new girl you’re first in line to do Fury’s scutwork. As your trainer, I’m right there with you.”
“Speak for yourself, Barton,” Special Agent Coulson added dryly, as he swept up to them. “I not only have somewhere else to be, but someone to meet there. The Colonel will owe me a rather significant favour for this.”
He somehow managed to look nearly invisible in his usual fashion, yet wore his rust-red desert robes in a most dignified manner, as befit one ‘born a King on Bethlehem’s plain’. Natasha approved.
Unlike Agent Barton, who wore his dusty blue garment with the certain kind of audacious flair she’d already come to associate with him. She had a mild inkling of curiousity if he could carry off a tuxedo with the same style.
She wriggled slightly in her own charcoal attire, testing the fit. She couldn’t remember ever wearing something so shapeless before; every piece of clothing she’d ever worn had been tailored to either give her maximum freedom of movement or to display her body as bait. But Natasha had already learned that SHIELD was full of interesting new experiences.
“But why the rehearsal? We only have to present the three small boxes to Colonel Fury’s sister, correct? We don’t have to sing the carol.”
“Just as well in my case,” Special Agent Coulson told her equitably.
Agent Barton groaned. “It’s because of the camels. I fucking hate camels.”
2. Santa Claus is Coming to Town (Real Soon Now!)
“Come on, you’re Russian. Isn’t this just like home for you?” Barton groused.
“I was Russian,” Natasha snapped back. “And most of my missions took place in heated buildings or overseas. It’s hard to look good in a designer dress when your skin is blue.”
“At least you’re all covered up. I swear my triceps are frozen.”
“I’ve been with SHIELD for almost two years now. Why are we doing this?”
“Because the target won’t suspect a tracking arrow, and you’re one of maybe three agents who speaks the local dialect.” Barton frowned, “How come you learned the dialect of Wrangel Island, anyway?”
Natasha shrugged. “I was supposed to seduce a scientist stationed here. Rumors of some long-hidden power source that HYDRA lost during WW2. Red Room Command finally realised that the US searches had all been closer to Alaska, and they didn’t really care if Russia held the island or not, so I was sent to Brazil instead. More to the point, why has Fury sent anyone here?”
“He wants to scoop NORAD and get an actual location for the Toy Factory. I think he got into an argument with that Air Force General again. You know what Army guys are like about the Air Force.”
“Or Fury just wants to make us suffer for going off-book in Geneva,” Natasha’s eyes narrowed at him. Dropping off-grid and completing the mission themselves had been Barton’s idea.
Barton rolled his eyes, and asked, “You really wanted to spend another four days watching those idiot noobs run in circles and contemplate their dicks? It took us four hours to complete the misssion once we ditched those losers! Besides, why do you think we were sent on that dumb-ass team building course? It certainly wasn’t to help our working relationship.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Natasha’s lips twitched slightly. “I think we definitely bonded.”
Barton’s grin became even more wicked than usual. “I don’t think our pranking everyone in the course without getting caught was what they had in mind, Natasha.”
“It was rather fun, though. The look on Sellar’s face...” Natasha mused. Sellars had made a particularly obnoxious comment comparing her form on the practise mats to her form between the sheets just a few days previously. The hoax involving the cocktail franks had been immensely satisfying.
Barton sat bolt upright in the snow. “Wait, do you hear what I hear?”
Natasha frowned, listened closely, and nodded. “Yes! Silver bells!”
As Barton notched the radar and satellite-beacon loaded arrow, waiting for a distinctive shape to pass overhead, Natasha cautioned, “Make sure you don’t hit any of the reindeer - they’re endangered species!”
3. The Holly and the Ivy (Among other things in the forest)
“It’s two days until Christmas, and we’re slogging through goddamn Sherwood Forest. I really don’t know what we did to deserve this mission, but if Agent Simon makes one more Robin Hood joke I’m gonna do something that will get us both thrown in lockdown for a month.”
“It was this, or going to Cairo to investigate that potential double agent for Mossad, and that mission would have involved camels.”
Clint made a truly awful face. “Message received.”
“Besides, we don’t have to report for duty until after New Year’s. We can spend Christmas in a civilized fashion for once.”
“Civilized – in London? Nat, you’ve obviously never been on the Tube during rush hour,” Clint chuckled, leaning back against a large tree, almost free of snow.
Natasha allowed a fond smile to curve her lips as she looked at him... and then her gaze drifted upwards slightly. She wasn’t one to believe in omens or portents, but it did seem like a positive sign that the plan she’d decided upon would work. Even bringing it forward from tonight in their suite at Claridges.
“Look on the bright side, Clint, at least you get to see all this wonderful native flora with your own eyes. Particularly the one right next to you.”
“What, this oak tree?” Clint scoffed, not unkindly. “We have oak trees back in the States too, Nat.”
“Actually, I was referring to the shrub in the branches above your head. It’s Viscum Album.”
“What’s that?” Clint asked.
Natasha stepped closer to him, taking a deep breath. “European mistletoe.”
Then she tilted her head, and kissed him for the first time.
4. What are you doing New Year’s Eve? (Don’t you mean who?)
It was the most frightening thing Natasha had witnessed since joining SHIELD.
Nick Fury was... smiling.
No, not smiling, grinning, with a maniacally joyful fervor.
“Thank you, Barton and Romanoff. That sorry-ass skidmark Wilcox won't be able to lift his head in the real intelligence community for years!"
He was still grinning as he strode off, the tails of his trademark Trenchcoat of Badassery (as Clint had dubbed it) flaring behind him.
“What exactly does Fury have against Wilcox, anyway?” Natasha asked. “This has to be personal somehow, but every time I ask someone, they look petrified and run off to the bathroom. Except for Hill. She calmly left the room to check the coffee supply.”
Coulson answered smoothly, “Since Henry Wilcox became head of the CIA, he has commissioned more black ops missions than any Director since the Cold War. This has involved him in SHIELD’s territory far more times than anyone is comfortable with-“
“Meaning, once is too many times,” Clint interrupted.
“- and has led to him treading on Colonel Fury’s toes on several occasions.”
“But what can you expect from the guy who’s actually proud of being nicknamed ‘Satan’s Little Helper’?” Clint shrugged. “The guy’s a major league dick. I would have done this even if Fury hadn’t asked us himself.”
“I must confess to being a little curious,” Coulson murmured, “As to how a mission that was meant to involve exchanging intel for an eighteenth century diamond necklace came to involve barbershop poles and a confetti cannon.”
“An unexpected development occurred,” Natasha replied smoothly. “We had to improvise.”
“Of course,” Coulson replied politely.
“Besides, the Shetland pony was Barton’s idea,” Natasha pointed out.
“Oh, please,” Clint rolled his eyes. “That was Fury’s favorite part.”
“I do have to agree with you there,” Coulson shrugged. “Enjoy the party, agents.”
Clint took a sip of his bourbon, and mused, “I’d enjoy it a lot more if I could kiss you at midnight, Tasha.”
“I don’t think so, Clint.”
“You kissed me eight days ago.”
“That was in a place where no one could win the betting pool.”
“Sooner or later, Coulson’s going to collect the money.”
“Not tonight, he won’t. Besides, if we were ever that obvious, no one would believe us and accuse us of rigging the pool.”
“True. In that case... in the course of your career as a highly-decorated seductress, have you ever had sex by the light of fireworks?”
Natasha sipped her champagne thoughtfully. “Hmmm... on reflection, I don’t believe I have. Hill’s office has an excellent view of the Square.”
“I can pick the lock.”
“I know the entry code.”
5. Jingle All the Way (Or Else!)
“Tranq guns?”
“Check.”
“Kevlar?”
“Check.”
“Sodium pentathol?”
“Check. I still say I could get the location out of the distribution manager without it.”
“Know you could, Nat, but time is of the essence here.”
“Christmas is still a week away, Clint,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but the TurboMan dolls were officially sold out three weeks ago.”
“Why isn’t Fury doing this himself?”
“He’s voluntarily put himself in lockdown so he doesn’t kill his sister’s idiot ex-husband for disappointing Nicky like this, especially since the asswipe only promised the kid that he’d get the toy because he knew Danielle couldn’t afford it.”
“I still don’t understand how a $200 toy could be sold out so quickly!”
“An exceptionally clever marketing campaign,” Coulson told her. “Please exercise all the caution for a level A elimination mission.” At Natasha’s raised eyebrows, he added, “You’ve really never seen a Christmas shopping mob. Wait until the after Christmas sales – when I was in high school, I suggested to the football coach that he train the lackluster defensive line by making them attempt to get between a group of middle-aged housewives and the fifty-percent off linen sale at Macy’s.”
“And?”
Coulson smirked. “State Champions for the next four years.”
In the end, it took all their equipment, plus hacking a Federal network, instigating a carol singing flash mob in a shopping mall, and fighting off a group of ninjas all dressed as Santa and wielding nunchuks made from plastic candy canes. But when she saw the look on five year old Nicholas Hondo’s face via Fury’s button-cam, Natasha felt an odd warmth in her chest that somehow made it all worth it.
Clint later claimed that her heart ‘grew three sizes bigger that day’. When she learned the reference, Natasha stole all his boxer shorts and left him a half-dozen Christmas themed pairs of thong underwear in their place.
#1 Christmas Island (Is a lovely place to be)
Clint took in a deep breath, inhaling the sea air, mixed with tropical flowers.
Despite working every Christmas since he’d recruited Nat, this looked to be the best yet.
Some Council members’ son was getting married next year, and wanted SHIELD to bodyguard the newlyweds, for no reason that Clint could see except to throw their weight around and make themselves look important.
In his book, being the headliner for a ‘reality’ TV show did not warrant bodyguards against stalking or paparazzi, especially since Natasha had already discovered that while attending an exclusive prep school, the bride had called the paparazzi on not only her schoolmates, but herself, with monotonous regularity until she had ‘found’ fame.
But if it meant that he and Tasha got to spend a fortnight at a resort in the Cook Islands in order to assess security risks for potential honeymoon sites, he’d friend the bimbo on Twitter himself.
“Welcome to Aitutaki Lagoon Resort, Mr and Mrs Barton,” smiled the concierge. “Thank you for spending your first anniversary with us, and if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Clint blinked a little at the reference. It did kind of make sense to put one of them in their real names – while he and Nat both had clean passports in their original identities, they wouldn’t be very convincing unless they were occasionally used, and this place was mostly popular with couples. Granted, it didn’t surprise him in the least that Fury knew that he and Tasha had developed a deeper relationship – they’d both simply assumed that he knew about it from pretty much the moment they’d stepped off the plane from London - but he really hadn’t thought that Fury would be this blatant.
Even though SHIELD didn’t have any rules against fraternization (on the basis that you didn’t even get recruited in the first place unles you were professional enough not to let it affect your work), most of SHIELD thought that Strike Team Delta were both still free agents, romantically speaking. It wasn’t as if he and Tasha kept their off-duty partnership a secret, but they didn’t advertise it either, or indulge in open PDA’s; their relationship was a precious thing, and they both guarded as such.
As they unpacked their small bags in their overwater bungalow – Clint had to give Fury some credit, for getting them the primo rooms that the happy couple were likely to insist on – a large wicker basket caught his eye, sitting on the table at the end of the bed. Made of ivory wicker, it was full of fruit, chocolate, and a couple of bottles of what he could see from here were Tasha’s favorite champagne.
Plopping the newspaper Nat had insisted on getting from the concierge down on the table (the headline read ‘STARK EXPO TO OPEN NEXT YEAR’), Clint picked up the ivory envelope that leaned against the basket.
“Woah,” he couldn’t help but let slip.
“Clint? What is it?” Tasha asked.
“This is from Fury.” Clint cleared his throat, and put on his best imitation of Fury’s rumbling tone.
Barton and Romanoff,
Don’t bother working too hard on this; the betting’s 5/1 against this wedding ever getting off the ground at all, and the bimbo’s already changed her mind about the honeymoon destination three times since the proposal. I’ll need a basic security assessment, but you two can do this shit in your sleep (I’m guessing you actually have at least once, Barton, judging by your handwriting after Tokyo last November). Basically, I’m assigning you two on this so I don’t have to send you on one of the other five missions going down that could really use your skills.
If you’re not back on the carrier on January 10th I’m sending Coulson after your asses. But in the meantime, consider this your Christmas bonus, or payback for the last five Yuletides.
Season’s greetings and all that shit,
Fury
PS Nicky officially thinks you work for Santa. You will NOT tell him otherwise until I give you clearance to do so.
“Now this is what I call a merry Christmas,” Natasha murmured in wonderment, as she stood beside the bed.
“Speaking of special occasions - it's December 23rd," Clint remarked with a smile.
"Yes, Clint, the sign on the check-in desk said so," Natasha retorted, smiling back.
"Which means," Clint moved suddenly, and Natasha blinked as his arms all but materialised around her waist, "That's it's been exactly one year since we kissed for the first time."
"That's true," Natasha’s smile grew, "Happy anniversary."
Natasha still believed that love was for children. But what she shared with Clint was far too vital to be diminished with terms tossed around as casually as 'love', anyway.
"Want to try out the open-air shower?"
"Race you."
FINI (We won’t talk about what they have to do on Halloween... maybe another fic.)
PLAYLIST AND AUTHOR’S NOTES
The titles come from the following songs:
We Wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year (performed by Enya)
We Three Kings of Orient Are (performed by the King’s College Choir of Cambridge University)
(In case you were wondering, Coulson had the gold, Clint the frankincense, and Natasha the myrhh.)
Santa Claus is Coming to Town (Bruce Springsteen - my personal favorite version!)
(Wrangel Island, or Vrangelya, is a tiny island in the Artic Ocean, between the Chukchi Sea and East Siberian Sea, which lies astride the 180° meridian. As far as I can tell, it’s the nearest inhabited place to the North Pole. BTW, Clint did hit something appropriately shaped with the arrow, but SHIELD lost the signal twelve hours later, in the town of North Pole, Alaska.)
NORAD tracks Santa
The Holly and the Ivy
(performed by The Mediaeval Babes)
(performed by Loreena McKennit)
(It’s actually known as Sherwood Pines National Forest nowadays, but I don’t think Clint cared. He liked the place a lot more after he got to second base with Natasha in a treehouse in Robin Hood’s Hideout, though.)
What are you doing New Year’s Eve? (Harry Connick Jr. I actually discovered this song while searching for a title for this section!)
(Henry Wilcox is a recurring character on the TV show Covert Affairs; though this ‘incident’ takes place before the series opens. No Shetland ponies were harmed during this section, though an acapella group made up of Drag Queens were quite disappointed.
At the very end of ‘Captain America: the First Avenger’, Steve runs out of the building SHIELD has brought him to and straight into Times Square. Given that he’s, y’know, a superhero - and a national treasure - it’s likely that if it isn’t their NYC headquarters, SHIELD would at the very least occupy the whole building, if only for security reasons. And if you have a building with views of Times Square, where else would you hold the agency New Year’s party?)
Jingle all the Way (aka Jingle Bells, or Dashing through the Snow) (performed by Frank Sinatra)
BONUS: This is the more recent Australian version! ‘Aussie Jingle’
(Concept for this section and the TurboMan doll are borrowed from the Arnold Schwarzenegger movie Jingle all the Way. Clint quotes How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr Seuess.)
Christmas Island (performed by Leon Redbone; his rendition is so old-fashioned it’s a little cheesy, but the plink-plink of the ukelele gets across the mood best, I think! I discovered this one while researching Christmas songs to find a theme for my workplace team area decorating competition. We ended up using ‘White Christmas’ instead, but we won!)
(Clint and Natasha are staying at Aitutaki Lagoon Resort & Spa, in one of the Overwater Bungalows – not only for the gorgeous view, but with an added escape route by sea if necessary.)
Author: TaleWeaver
nessataleweaverA Gift For:
book_junkie007 Rating: PG+15
Warnings: sexual innuendo, violence, swearing, political maneuvering, and maybe Santa abuse (not the real one, though!).
Pairings: Clint/Natasha
Summary/Prompt Used: Five Christmas-time missions Clint and Natasha did as a favor to Nick Fury, and one Christmas-time favor he did them in return
Disclaimer: The Characters herein belong to Marvel, not me. The story is mine mine mine.
Author's Notes: For the Be_Compromised bar’s Secret Santa party of 2012. ( Mission #2 was mostly inspired by the Secret Santa Banner of Clint and Natasha in the snow. )
Calendar Note: According to my research ‘the twelve days of Christmas’ actually last from December 25 (Christmas Day) to January 5 (Twelfth Night or Ephiphany – see the first part). So they count as ‘Christmas-time’ too, not just the days that show up on the Advent calendars.
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inkvoices1. We Three Kings of Orient Are (That we are pretending to be)
“Why, exactly, are we doing this?” Natasha asked in puzzlement.
Infiltration, interrogation, and assasination were things she understood. But she couldn’t help but feel that the Red Room’s training didn’t really cover this situation.
“It’s a family sort of thing,” Agent Barton explained to her. “Danielle Adams, formerly Danielle Hondo, is Fury's sister."
I knew that ridiculous name was assumed, Natasha thought in satisfaction.
“- and she’s just had a baby. Named Nicholas after Fury, no less. But also probably because he was born on December sixth.”
“Oh!” Natasha realized. “The Feast’s day of Saint Nicholas.”
“Anyway, keeping with the Christmas theme, the kid’s being christened on January fifth – Twelfth Night.”
“Otherwise known as Epiphany. The date the Three Wise Men arrived in Bethlehem and brought their gifts to the Christ Child.”
“Exactly. But Fury’s got to miss it, partly because of the damn Council, partly because otherwise he’ll get all sorts of questions about the broken arm. Last time he broke something was right before his sister’s wedding, and he had a great time telling everyone who asked a different lie about his ankle – I think my personal fave was when he told the best man that he’d been kept captive as a sex slave in the Playboy Mansion, and he broke the ankle peeling the last Bunny off as he escaped,” Agent Barton snickered. “But with his dominant hand in a sling, if he knocks out his brother in law with a single punch again it’ll raise questions, and his sister will probably cry. And if there’s something Fury can’t take, it’s seeing his sister cry.”
Natasha frowned. “So, we will present extravagant presents in an ostentatious fashion, and hope that the spectacle overwhelms her hurt and indignation about Colonel Fury missing such an important occasion. But why us?”
“We don’t have anything better to do,” Agent Barton shrugged. “Lots of SHIELD agents don’t have families, but as the new girl you’re first in line to do Fury’s scutwork. As your trainer, I’m right there with you.”
“Speak for yourself, Barton,” Special Agent Coulson added dryly, as he swept up to them. “I not only have somewhere else to be, but someone to meet there. The Colonel will owe me a rather significant favour for this.”
He somehow managed to look nearly invisible in his usual fashion, yet wore his rust-red desert robes in a most dignified manner, as befit one ‘born a King on Bethlehem’s plain’. Natasha approved.
Unlike Agent Barton, who wore his dusty blue garment with the certain kind of audacious flair she’d already come to associate with him. She had a mild inkling of curiousity if he could carry off a tuxedo with the same style.
She wriggled slightly in her own charcoal attire, testing the fit. She couldn’t remember ever wearing something so shapeless before; every piece of clothing she’d ever worn had been tailored to either give her maximum freedom of movement or to display her body as bait. But Natasha had already learned that SHIELD was full of interesting new experiences.
“But why the rehearsal? We only have to present the three small boxes to Colonel Fury’s sister, correct? We don’t have to sing the carol.”
“Just as well in my case,” Special Agent Coulson told her equitably.
Agent Barton groaned. “It’s because of the camels. I fucking hate camels.”
2. Santa Claus is Coming to Town (Real Soon Now!)
“Come on, you’re Russian. Isn’t this just like home for you?” Barton groused.
“I was Russian,” Natasha snapped back. “And most of my missions took place in heated buildings or overseas. It’s hard to look good in a designer dress when your skin is blue.”
“At least you’re all covered up. I swear my triceps are frozen.”
“I’ve been with SHIELD for almost two years now. Why are we doing this?”
“Because the target won’t suspect a tracking arrow, and you’re one of maybe three agents who speaks the local dialect.” Barton frowned, “How come you learned the dialect of Wrangel Island, anyway?”
Natasha shrugged. “I was supposed to seduce a scientist stationed here. Rumors of some long-hidden power source that HYDRA lost during WW2. Red Room Command finally realised that the US searches had all been closer to Alaska, and they didn’t really care if Russia held the island or not, so I was sent to Brazil instead. More to the point, why has Fury sent anyone here?”
“He wants to scoop NORAD and get an actual location for the Toy Factory. I think he got into an argument with that Air Force General again. You know what Army guys are like about the Air Force.”
“Or Fury just wants to make us suffer for going off-book in Geneva,” Natasha’s eyes narrowed at him. Dropping off-grid and completing the mission themselves had been Barton’s idea.
Barton rolled his eyes, and asked, “You really wanted to spend another four days watching those idiot noobs run in circles and contemplate their dicks? It took us four hours to complete the misssion once we ditched those losers! Besides, why do you think we were sent on that dumb-ass team building course? It certainly wasn’t to help our working relationship.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Natasha’s lips twitched slightly. “I think we definitely bonded.”
Barton’s grin became even more wicked than usual. “I don’t think our pranking everyone in the course without getting caught was what they had in mind, Natasha.”
“It was rather fun, though. The look on Sellar’s face...” Natasha mused. Sellars had made a particularly obnoxious comment comparing her form on the practise mats to her form between the sheets just a few days previously. The hoax involving the cocktail franks had been immensely satisfying.
Barton sat bolt upright in the snow. “Wait, do you hear what I hear?”
Natasha frowned, listened closely, and nodded. “Yes! Silver bells!”
As Barton notched the radar and satellite-beacon loaded arrow, waiting for a distinctive shape to pass overhead, Natasha cautioned, “Make sure you don’t hit any of the reindeer - they’re endangered species!”
3. The Holly and the Ivy (Among other things in the forest)
“It’s two days until Christmas, and we’re slogging through goddamn Sherwood Forest. I really don’t know what we did to deserve this mission, but if Agent Simon makes one more Robin Hood joke I’m gonna do something that will get us both thrown in lockdown for a month.”
“It was this, or going to Cairo to investigate that potential double agent for Mossad, and that mission would have involved camels.”
Clint made a truly awful face. “Message received.”
“Besides, we don’t have to report for duty until after New Year’s. We can spend Christmas in a civilized fashion for once.”
“Civilized – in London? Nat, you’ve obviously never been on the Tube during rush hour,” Clint chuckled, leaning back against a large tree, almost free of snow.
Natasha allowed a fond smile to curve her lips as she looked at him... and then her gaze drifted upwards slightly. She wasn’t one to believe in omens or portents, but it did seem like a positive sign that the plan she’d decided upon would work. Even bringing it forward from tonight in their suite at Claridges.
“Look on the bright side, Clint, at least you get to see all this wonderful native flora with your own eyes. Particularly the one right next to you.”
“What, this oak tree?” Clint scoffed, not unkindly. “We have oak trees back in the States too, Nat.”
“Actually, I was referring to the shrub in the branches above your head. It’s Viscum Album.”
“What’s that?” Clint asked.
Natasha stepped closer to him, taking a deep breath. “European mistletoe.”
Then she tilted her head, and kissed him for the first time.
4. What are you doing New Year’s Eve? (Don’t you mean who?)
It was the most frightening thing Natasha had witnessed since joining SHIELD.
Nick Fury was... smiling.
No, not smiling, grinning, with a maniacally joyful fervor.
“Thank you, Barton and Romanoff. That sorry-ass skidmark Wilcox won't be able to lift his head in the real intelligence community for years!"
He was still grinning as he strode off, the tails of his trademark Trenchcoat of Badassery (as Clint had dubbed it) flaring behind him.
“What exactly does Fury have against Wilcox, anyway?” Natasha asked. “This has to be personal somehow, but every time I ask someone, they look petrified and run off to the bathroom. Except for Hill. She calmly left the room to check the coffee supply.”
Coulson answered smoothly, “Since Henry Wilcox became head of the CIA, he has commissioned more black ops missions than any Director since the Cold War. This has involved him in SHIELD’s territory far more times than anyone is comfortable with-“
“Meaning, once is too many times,” Clint interrupted.
“- and has led to him treading on Colonel Fury’s toes on several occasions.”
“But what can you expect from the guy who’s actually proud of being nicknamed ‘Satan’s Little Helper’?” Clint shrugged. “The guy’s a major league dick. I would have done this even if Fury hadn’t asked us himself.”
“I must confess to being a little curious,” Coulson murmured, “As to how a mission that was meant to involve exchanging intel for an eighteenth century diamond necklace came to involve barbershop poles and a confetti cannon.”
“An unexpected development occurred,” Natasha replied smoothly. “We had to improvise.”
“Of course,” Coulson replied politely.
“Besides, the Shetland pony was Barton’s idea,” Natasha pointed out.
“Oh, please,” Clint rolled his eyes. “That was Fury’s favorite part.”
“I do have to agree with you there,” Coulson shrugged. “Enjoy the party, agents.”
Clint took a sip of his bourbon, and mused, “I’d enjoy it a lot more if I could kiss you at midnight, Tasha.”
“I don’t think so, Clint.”
“You kissed me eight days ago.”
“That was in a place where no one could win the betting pool.”
“Sooner or later, Coulson’s going to collect the money.”
“Not tonight, he won’t. Besides, if we were ever that obvious, no one would believe us and accuse us of rigging the pool.”
“True. In that case... in the course of your career as a highly-decorated seductress, have you ever had sex by the light of fireworks?”
Natasha sipped her champagne thoughtfully. “Hmmm... on reflection, I don’t believe I have. Hill’s office has an excellent view of the Square.”
“I can pick the lock.”
“I know the entry code.”
5. Jingle All the Way (Or Else!)
“Tranq guns?”
“Check.”
“Kevlar?”
“Check.”
“Sodium pentathol?”
“Check. I still say I could get the location out of the distribution manager without it.”
“Know you could, Nat, but time is of the essence here.”
“Christmas is still a week away, Clint,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but the TurboMan dolls were officially sold out three weeks ago.”
“Why isn’t Fury doing this himself?”
“He’s voluntarily put himself in lockdown so he doesn’t kill his sister’s idiot ex-husband for disappointing Nicky like this, especially since the asswipe only promised the kid that he’d get the toy because he knew Danielle couldn’t afford it.”
“I still don’t understand how a $200 toy could be sold out so quickly!”
“An exceptionally clever marketing campaign,” Coulson told her. “Please exercise all the caution for a level A elimination mission.” At Natasha’s raised eyebrows, he added, “You’ve really never seen a Christmas shopping mob. Wait until the after Christmas sales – when I was in high school, I suggested to the football coach that he train the lackluster defensive line by making them attempt to get between a group of middle-aged housewives and the fifty-percent off linen sale at Macy’s.”
“And?”
Coulson smirked. “State Champions for the next four years.”
In the end, it took all their equipment, plus hacking a Federal network, instigating a carol singing flash mob in a shopping mall, and fighting off a group of ninjas all dressed as Santa and wielding nunchuks made from plastic candy canes. But when she saw the look on five year old Nicholas Hondo’s face via Fury’s button-cam, Natasha felt an odd warmth in her chest that somehow made it all worth it.
Clint later claimed that her heart ‘grew three sizes bigger that day’. When she learned the reference, Natasha stole all his boxer shorts and left him a half-dozen Christmas themed pairs of thong underwear in their place.
#1 Christmas Island (Is a lovely place to be)
Clint took in a deep breath, inhaling the sea air, mixed with tropical flowers.
Despite working every Christmas since he’d recruited Nat, this looked to be the best yet.
Some Council members’ son was getting married next year, and wanted SHIELD to bodyguard the newlyweds, for no reason that Clint could see except to throw their weight around and make themselves look important.
In his book, being the headliner for a ‘reality’ TV show did not warrant bodyguards against stalking or paparazzi, especially since Natasha had already discovered that while attending an exclusive prep school, the bride had called the paparazzi on not only her schoolmates, but herself, with monotonous regularity until she had ‘found’ fame.
But if it meant that he and Tasha got to spend a fortnight at a resort in the Cook Islands in order to assess security risks for potential honeymoon sites, he’d friend the bimbo on Twitter himself.
“Welcome to Aitutaki Lagoon Resort, Mr and Mrs Barton,” smiled the concierge. “Thank you for spending your first anniversary with us, and if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Clint blinked a little at the reference. It did kind of make sense to put one of them in their real names – while he and Nat both had clean passports in their original identities, they wouldn’t be very convincing unless they were occasionally used, and this place was mostly popular with couples. Granted, it didn’t surprise him in the least that Fury knew that he and Tasha had developed a deeper relationship – they’d both simply assumed that he knew about it from pretty much the moment they’d stepped off the plane from London - but he really hadn’t thought that Fury would be this blatant.
Even though SHIELD didn’t have any rules against fraternization (on the basis that you didn’t even get recruited in the first place unles you were professional enough not to let it affect your work), most of SHIELD thought that Strike Team Delta were both still free agents, romantically speaking. It wasn’t as if he and Tasha kept their off-duty partnership a secret, but they didn’t advertise it either, or indulge in open PDA’s; their relationship was a precious thing, and they both guarded as such.
As they unpacked their small bags in their overwater bungalow – Clint had to give Fury some credit, for getting them the primo rooms that the happy couple were likely to insist on – a large wicker basket caught his eye, sitting on the table at the end of the bed. Made of ivory wicker, it was full of fruit, chocolate, and a couple of bottles of what he could see from here were Tasha’s favorite champagne.
Plopping the newspaper Nat had insisted on getting from the concierge down on the table (the headline read ‘STARK EXPO TO OPEN NEXT YEAR’), Clint picked up the ivory envelope that leaned against the basket.
“Woah,” he couldn’t help but let slip.
“Clint? What is it?” Tasha asked.
“This is from Fury.” Clint cleared his throat, and put on his best imitation of Fury’s rumbling tone.
Barton and Romanoff,
Don’t bother working too hard on this; the betting’s 5/1 against this wedding ever getting off the ground at all, and the bimbo’s already changed her mind about the honeymoon destination three times since the proposal. I’ll need a basic security assessment, but you two can do this shit in your sleep (I’m guessing you actually have at least once, Barton, judging by your handwriting after Tokyo last November). Basically, I’m assigning you two on this so I don’t have to send you on one of the other five missions going down that could really use your skills.
If you’re not back on the carrier on January 10th I’m sending Coulson after your asses. But in the meantime, consider this your Christmas bonus, or payback for the last five Yuletides.
Season’s greetings and all that shit,
Fury
PS Nicky officially thinks you work for Santa. You will NOT tell him otherwise until I give you clearance to do so.
“Now this is what I call a merry Christmas,” Natasha murmured in wonderment, as she stood beside the bed.
“Speaking of special occasions - it's December 23rd," Clint remarked with a smile.
"Yes, Clint, the sign on the check-in desk said so," Natasha retorted, smiling back.
"Which means," Clint moved suddenly, and Natasha blinked as his arms all but materialised around her waist, "That's it's been exactly one year since we kissed for the first time."
"That's true," Natasha’s smile grew, "Happy anniversary."
Natasha still believed that love was for children. But what she shared with Clint was far too vital to be diminished with terms tossed around as casually as 'love', anyway.
"Want to try out the open-air shower?"
"Race you."
FINI (We won’t talk about what they have to do on Halloween... maybe another fic.)
PLAYLIST AND AUTHOR’S NOTES
The titles come from the following songs:
We Wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year (performed by Enya)
We Three Kings of Orient Are (performed by the King’s College Choir of Cambridge University)
(In case you were wondering, Coulson had the gold, Clint the frankincense, and Natasha the myrhh.)
Santa Claus is Coming to Town (Bruce Springsteen - my personal favorite version!)
(Wrangel Island, or Vrangelya, is a tiny island in the Artic Ocean, between the Chukchi Sea and East Siberian Sea, which lies astride the 180° meridian. As far as I can tell, it’s the nearest inhabited place to the North Pole. BTW, Clint did hit something appropriately shaped with the arrow, but SHIELD lost the signal twelve hours later, in the town of North Pole, Alaska.)
NORAD tracks Santa
The Holly and the Ivy
(performed by The Mediaeval Babes)
(performed by Loreena McKennit)
(It’s actually known as Sherwood Pines National Forest nowadays, but I don’t think Clint cared. He liked the place a lot more after he got to second base with Natasha in a treehouse in Robin Hood’s Hideout, though.)
What are you doing New Year’s Eve? (Harry Connick Jr. I actually discovered this song while searching for a title for this section!)
(Henry Wilcox is a recurring character on the TV show Covert Affairs; though this ‘incident’ takes place before the series opens. No Shetland ponies were harmed during this section, though an acapella group made up of Drag Queens were quite disappointed.
At the very end of ‘Captain America: the First Avenger’, Steve runs out of the building SHIELD has brought him to and straight into Times Square. Given that he’s, y’know, a superhero - and a national treasure - it’s likely that if it isn’t their NYC headquarters, SHIELD would at the very least occupy the whole building, if only for security reasons. And if you have a building with views of Times Square, where else would you hold the agency New Year’s party?)
Jingle all the Way (aka Jingle Bells, or Dashing through the Snow) (performed by Frank Sinatra)
BONUS: This is the more recent Australian version! ‘Aussie Jingle’
(Concept for this section and the TurboMan doll are borrowed from the Arnold Schwarzenegger movie Jingle all the Way. Clint quotes How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr Seuess.)
Christmas Island (performed by Leon Redbone; his rendition is so old-fashioned it’s a little cheesy, but the plink-plink of the ukelele gets across the mood best, I think! I discovered this one while researching Christmas songs to find a theme for my workplace team area decorating competition. We ended up using ‘White Christmas’ instead, but we won!)
(Clint and Natasha are staying at Aitutaki Lagoon Resort & Spa, in one of the Overwater Bungalows – not only for the gorgeous view, but with an added escape route by sea if necessary.)
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