cap_ironman_fe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
cap_ironman2009-12-28 03:00 pm
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in cap_ironman2009-12-28 03:00 pm
Happy holidays, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ani_bester!
Title: Borrowing Tradition
Author:m_steelgrave
Disclaimer: Characters and situations are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. No profit is being made off this fan-written work.
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Universe: 616
Pairing/Characters: Steve, Tony
Word Count: Approximately 1,000
Beta: None. Any mistakes are made on my own, and with apologies.
A/N: So somehow I signed up as an artist and turned out a fic, as well. There really are Christmas miracles.
Summary: Steve's first Christmas out of the ice. He makes it better for Tony, Tony makes it better for him.
Tony finally made it back to the mansion somewhere close to midnight. He meant to leave earlier, but the latest drafts needed extensive revisions and, being the good boss that he was, most of the engineering team had the day off. Before he knew it, everyone else in the building had gone home except for the doorman, who gave him a dour glare as he waved goodnight.
The mansion was mostly dark and empty. Jarvis was off for the evening, Hank and Jan had plans, Thor had disappeared earlier in the day muttering something about mistletoe, and Tony had no idea where Steve was. The oppressive silence reminded Tony why he encouraged the other Avengers to use the mansion as their headquarters. He grabbed a bottle of whisky and made a beeline for the workshop, heels clicking loudly on the parquet. He entered the access code to the shop, intending to drink and tinker with something until he was tired enough to sleep.
One of the armor's jet boots sat prominently in the middle of the work bench. Odd, Tony thought. He hadn't been working on the armor. Setting down the bottle and tugging his tie loose, he picked up the boot and inspected it. Something rattled inside, so he tipped it over.
He just managed to catch the orange as it rolled out, but the long old-fashioned peppermint stick and the coin landed on the work bench without incident. Still gripping the orange, Tony examined the coin. It was a half-dollar, judging by the size of it, but it was so worn that it was nearly impossible to make out the walking liberty design on the face. He brushed a thumb across the low relief.
"Knock, knock." Tony turned to find Steve standing in the doorway, a hesitant smile on his face. He carried two mugs in his hands.
"Cap," Tony greeted. "Did Santa bring me a pony?" He gestured for Steve to sit.
Steve settled himself at the work bench and set one of the mugs in front of Tony. "It wouldn't fit in your stocking," he replied, nodding at the jet boot. "Egg nog?"
Tony took a sip from the mug and pulled a face. "Less egg, more nog," he said as he reached for the whisky bottle. "So is this what you've been doing all day? Planning a festive ambush?"
"I walked around and looked at the department store windows. Macy's is nice. Then I stopped a kid from stealing someone's purse."
"A traditional holiday," Tony proclaimed.
"I wasn't really sure what to get everyone for Christmas," said Steve. "I don't know any of you very well yet, and shopping was..."
"Daunting," Tony finished for him. "Believe me, even we natives of the modern age are overwhelmed by holiday retail."
Steve smiled gratefully. "So I decided to give everyone what my parents used to put in my stocking every year. It's kind of stupid, I guess," he finished, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as his eyes traveled the workshop. "It's not like you can't just buy whatever you want. You could probably build it, for that matter."
Tony smiled and sat down next to Steve. He picked up the peppermint stick and banged it against the edge of the bench, breaking it neatly in half. He handed half to Steve, saying, "Hey, Christmas tradition when I was growing up meant roaming the house during boring parties and sneaking drinks behind everyone's back. I could use a wholesome tradition."
Steve accepted the peppermint with a grateful look. "I never got candy canes, just a big peppermint stick like this. I used to hide it under my mattress and crack it on my bedpost," he explained with a smile.
"What about the orange?"
"We didn't get a lot of fresh fruit. Stuff in cans, mostly. Oranges were in season in December. The money was the real present, but I didn't get it every year," Steve said. "I used to imagine what other people spent it on, what that same coin meant to the other people who'd used it. It helped keep me from blowing it," he said. "If that coin paid somebody's rent or bought their only real meal for a week, it hardly seemed right to spend it on movie tickets or candy."
Tony eyed him with amusement. "You were a strange kid," he said.
Steve shrugged. "So what about you? Any Christmas traditions from when you were growing up?"
"Nah."
"Nothing?"
"Well, I used to build these elaborate traps for Santa Claus," Tony admitted.
"And I'm strange?" Steve laughed, a full sound that Tony decided he liked very much.
"I wanted proof that he was real."
"Did you ever catch him?" Steve asked, attempting to smother a grin.
"No. Which means, of course, that he doesn't exist."
"I'm no scientist, but I think your logic might not be sound." Tony swatted at him, which Steve dodged before stifling a yawn. "I know you're nocturnal, but the rest of us aren't. I'm headed to bed."
Tony stood as Steve did, feeling suddenly awkward. "Thanks for thinking of me," he said. "I don't really have anything to give you in return." Tony was wonderful at handing out baubles like calling cards, and he felt like an idiot for not having paid more attention to the fact that this was Steve's first Christmas as a stranger in a strange land.
Steve shook his head. "Are you kidding? You've given me a place to live, and a purpose. You've given me a chance to be an Avenger." More quietly, he said, "And you listened to me ramble. That's more than enough." He paused at the door, looking as if he might say more. Instead he added, "Merry Christmas, Tony," and left.
Tony sat at the workbench and gazed at the door for a long moment. Then he picked up the orange and began peeling it in one long, spiraling piece, a small smile on his face. "Merry Christmas, Steve."
Author:
m_steelgraveDisclaimer: Characters and situations are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. No profit is being made off this fan-written work.
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Universe: 616
Pairing/Characters: Steve, Tony
Word Count: Approximately 1,000
Beta: None. Any mistakes are made on my own, and with apologies.
A/N: So somehow I signed up as an artist and turned out a fic, as well. There really are Christmas miracles.
Summary: Steve's first Christmas out of the ice. He makes it better for Tony, Tony makes it better for him.
Tony finally made it back to the mansion somewhere close to midnight. He meant to leave earlier, but the latest drafts needed extensive revisions and, being the good boss that he was, most of the engineering team had the day off. Before he knew it, everyone else in the building had gone home except for the doorman, who gave him a dour glare as he waved goodnight.
The mansion was mostly dark and empty. Jarvis was off for the evening, Hank and Jan had plans, Thor had disappeared earlier in the day muttering something about mistletoe, and Tony had no idea where Steve was. The oppressive silence reminded Tony why he encouraged the other Avengers to use the mansion as their headquarters. He grabbed a bottle of whisky and made a beeline for the workshop, heels clicking loudly on the parquet. He entered the access code to the shop, intending to drink and tinker with something until he was tired enough to sleep.
One of the armor's jet boots sat prominently in the middle of the work bench. Odd, Tony thought. He hadn't been working on the armor. Setting down the bottle and tugging his tie loose, he picked up the boot and inspected it. Something rattled inside, so he tipped it over.
He just managed to catch the orange as it rolled out, but the long old-fashioned peppermint stick and the coin landed on the work bench without incident. Still gripping the orange, Tony examined the coin. It was a half-dollar, judging by the size of it, but it was so worn that it was nearly impossible to make out the walking liberty design on the face. He brushed a thumb across the low relief.
"Knock, knock." Tony turned to find Steve standing in the doorway, a hesitant smile on his face. He carried two mugs in his hands.
"Cap," Tony greeted. "Did Santa bring me a pony?" He gestured for Steve to sit.
Steve settled himself at the work bench and set one of the mugs in front of Tony. "It wouldn't fit in your stocking," he replied, nodding at the jet boot. "Egg nog?"
Tony took a sip from the mug and pulled a face. "Less egg, more nog," he said as he reached for the whisky bottle. "So is this what you've been doing all day? Planning a festive ambush?"
"I walked around and looked at the department store windows. Macy's is nice. Then I stopped a kid from stealing someone's purse."
"A traditional holiday," Tony proclaimed.
"I wasn't really sure what to get everyone for Christmas," said Steve. "I don't know any of you very well yet, and shopping was..."
"Daunting," Tony finished for him. "Believe me, even we natives of the modern age are overwhelmed by holiday retail."
Steve smiled gratefully. "So I decided to give everyone what my parents used to put in my stocking every year. It's kind of stupid, I guess," he finished, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as his eyes traveled the workshop. "It's not like you can't just buy whatever you want. You could probably build it, for that matter."
Tony smiled and sat down next to Steve. He picked up the peppermint stick and banged it against the edge of the bench, breaking it neatly in half. He handed half to Steve, saying, "Hey, Christmas tradition when I was growing up meant roaming the house during boring parties and sneaking drinks behind everyone's back. I could use a wholesome tradition."
Steve accepted the peppermint with a grateful look. "I never got candy canes, just a big peppermint stick like this. I used to hide it under my mattress and crack it on my bedpost," he explained with a smile.
"What about the orange?"
"We didn't get a lot of fresh fruit. Stuff in cans, mostly. Oranges were in season in December. The money was the real present, but I didn't get it every year," Steve said. "I used to imagine what other people spent it on, what that same coin meant to the other people who'd used it. It helped keep me from blowing it," he said. "If that coin paid somebody's rent or bought their only real meal for a week, it hardly seemed right to spend it on movie tickets or candy."
Tony eyed him with amusement. "You were a strange kid," he said.
Steve shrugged. "So what about you? Any Christmas traditions from when you were growing up?"
"Nah."
"Nothing?"
"Well, I used to build these elaborate traps for Santa Claus," Tony admitted.
"And I'm strange?" Steve laughed, a full sound that Tony decided he liked very much.
"I wanted proof that he was real."
"Did you ever catch him?" Steve asked, attempting to smother a grin.
"No. Which means, of course, that he doesn't exist."
"I'm no scientist, but I think your logic might not be sound." Tony swatted at him, which Steve dodged before stifling a yawn. "I know you're nocturnal, but the rest of us aren't. I'm headed to bed."
Tony stood as Steve did, feeling suddenly awkward. "Thanks for thinking of me," he said. "I don't really have anything to give you in return." Tony was wonderful at handing out baubles like calling cards, and he felt like an idiot for not having paid more attention to the fact that this was Steve's first Christmas as a stranger in a strange land.
Steve shook his head. "Are you kidding? You've given me a place to live, and a purpose. You've given me a chance to be an Avenger." More quietly, he said, "And you listened to me ramble. That's more than enough." He paused at the door, looking as if he might say more. Instead he added, "Merry Christmas, Tony," and left.
Tony sat at the workbench and gazed at the door for a long moment. Then he picked up the orange and began peeling it in one long, spiraling piece, a small smile on his face. "Merry Christmas, Steve."