Title: The Charlie Browniest
Author: kadollan
A Gift For: dictator_duck
Rating: Gen
Warnings: Schmoop, Salvation Army Santas, Gratuitous Peanuts, Extemporaneous Philosophy
Pairings: Clint/Natasha
Summary/Prompt Used: I combined two of your prompts, dear dictator_duck, so I offer you the one where Steve and Natasha are friends and Clint insists on a movie marathon.
Authors Notes: I really enjoyed writing this -- I love team fic -- where the Avengers work, live and bump along together, figuring out how to make it work. I very much hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


Banner by frea_o



Natasha started running with Steve shortly after she moved into the Tower.

She’d said she wouldn’t do it, that she wouldn’t move in with Stark and his tower of misfit boys.

But after awhile she started coming over for the once a week “team building” dinner parties that Tony would throw. Then she’d be over on Tuesdays to consult with Pepper over lunch (where “consulting” meant “gossiping over take-out between meetings”).

It wasn’t long after that when Steve moved in. Bruce had been there more or less from the beginning, and Thor popped in whenever he was in town. In realm. Whatever.

Clint caved before she did, but that was down to the en suite target range that Tony’d lured him with. Natasha didn’t even blame him, and in fact blamed him even less when she saw the barre in the apartment he’d set up for her. The apartment that was conveniently located directly below Clint’s. The man did know his audience, she’d say that for him.

Clint hated to run (except when his life depended on it), so when she ran into Steve in the elevator one morning, clearly dressed for jogging, she invited him to come with her. She saw the way that he hesitated, no doubt wondering how much she would slow him down, but he’d smiled and agreed.

She had only pushed herself a bit that first morning to keep up with him, but he was a super soldier after all. And if she’d spent an hour in the hot tub later, no one but Clint ever needed to know.

So, once became twice, became three times, became a routine. They ran together most mornings (though they varied their path every day. She may have found herself bizarrely domesticated, living in a Home for Wayward Super Heroes, but she was still a spy, damnit). They found a pace that suited them both (and if Steve was holding back, he was a perfect gentleman and never even implied it), so they started to talk. And they became friends.

***

“What was Christmas like when you were growing up?” Steve asked as they jogged around a Salvation Army Santa on the way back to the tower. He was the third one they’d seen on their route so far that morning, and he was by far the jolliest. She kind of wanted to feed him the bell he was ringing.

“We didn’t celebrate. How about you?” It was cold enough that morning that steam puffed when they exhaled. She knew something was eating at him, he’d been unusually quiet for the past two or three mornings.

“Small, poor. Quiet. It wasn’t...it wasn’t like this,” he gestured vaguely at the gaudy store displays, “at all. There was a tree at the orphanage, but lots of folks didn’t have one. And there were Christmas displays at Macy’s, of course, but that was about the only place. It was really beautiful.”

He paused for a moment as they entered the lobby of Stark Tower. They could see Pepper across the mezzanine, supervising the installation of an obscenely large tree. It looked like an entire army was on hand to decorate it.

“It’s just, Christmas is everywhere now,” he said as they were getting off the elevator, “but as far as I can see it doesn’t even mean anything. I saw decorations for sale back in October!”

Natasha almost wanted to laugh at how indignant he sounded, except she knew he was completely serious. And how much had Christmas changed in seventy years? She really had no idea.

“Around three-quarters of all retail sales are made in the last quarter of the year,” Bruce observed as they walked into their main shared living area. It was entirely like Bruce to pick up in the middle of a conversation like that. He was so smart it was scary, but they were all more or less used to it by now.

Clint and Thor both looked up when they came in. It was a full house, then, assuming that Tony was down in his workshop.

“So, what? Christmas is about money now? Where I’m from it’s about a baby that was born to a virgin to save mankind. It was still a religious holiday. And it meant something.” He frowned. “I feel like a self-righteous ass, but I hate this.”

“I don’t think it really is just about the money,” Natasha said thoughtfully. “I think that Christmas makes people feel something. A sense of connection. Of belonging. Joy. Peace. Happiness. I think that people miss that. They don’t have it in their lives, so they look to Christmas to make them feel better about themselves. They start earlier every year, because every year they feel more empty and alone.”

Steve scowled. “Well, you can’t buy peace, love or happiness. And I bet trying to just makes you feel worse.”

“Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, Steve Rogers, you’re the Charlie Browniest,” Clint announced.

“I beg your pardon?” Steve asked, as Bruce snorted.

“The Charlie Brown Christmas Special?” Clint answered. “You could have been quoting it.”

Natasha had heard of it, of course. You couldn’t live in America in December and not have heard of The Charlie Brown Christmas Special.

“No, sorry. You’ve lost me.” Even though they’d been collectively working on bringing Steve up to speed on the Twenty-first century, there was still a lot of ground left to cover.

“You know, I’ve never seen it either,” she admitted.

Clint looked horrified, and even Bruce looked surprised. “You haven’t? Okay, that’s it. Movie night. We are watching this. JARVIS! Cue it up!”

“Already done, sir.” JARVIS was really one of the best things about living in Stark Tower. Natasha may or may not have been secretly harboring a bit of a crush on him.

“Thor? You in?” Clint and Thor had surprised everyone (perhaps themselves most of all) by forming a fast friendship. Natasha blamed a mutual love of ale and movies with fast cars in them.

“Absolutely! Jane has shown me many of your Yuletide plays, and I find them most enjoyable. Tell me, have you seen the one where the lios alfar heals the angry frost giant?”

Thor looked confused when they all shook their heads. “Jane assured me that it was most famous amongst Midgardians. There was also a noble beast, with a shining red...”

“Rudolph.” Clint smacked his forehead in a dramatic gesture of sudden understanding. “You mean Rudolph. That wasn’t an leo … thing that you said. That was an elf. And an abominable snowman!”

“Yes, Clint. That is what I said. An alfar and a frost giant.” Thor was grinning, and Natasha realized he’d been playing them.

***

Later that evening, when she and Clint were getting ready for bed, he asked her about what she’d said. “Do you think people just use Christmas to try to fill up a void inside themselves?”

“Some people do. But only the ones whose lives are empty.”

“And that’s not us.”

She laughed, remembering the popcorn fight that Clint, Thor and Tony had gotten into after they’d watched Rudolph. Steve had requested it, when Charlie Brown was over. Tony had slipped in while Hermie was expressing his existential angst on the big screen in the den.

And then after the third Rankin and Bass special they’d fallen into a peaceful silence, just enjoying one another’s company and the lights from the (far smaller) tree that Pepper had installed earlier that day.

Clint had glanced outside and announced that it was snowing when Bruce’s quiet voice filled the room, reciting Linus’ famous line from memory. “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. … And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill towards men.”

She remembered the look of contentment. Of joy, peace... happiness, that Steve had in that moment.

“No,” she smiled. “that’s not us.”