Natasha and Steve collapsed into bed after barely having enough energy to shower away the dirt and grime of the latest battle. Darcy'd stayed long enough for them to get cleaned up, then left their quarters with a yawn.
Natasha looked at the clock and cringed as she settled into the sheets. Nadia would be up in two hours, and even though they both needed less sleep than the average human, it still wasn't going to be enough, especially after the knockdown-drag-out fight they'd just had in the freezing December weather. She burrowed further under the covers and scooted over until her back was against Steve's chest. He hissed as her feet tangled up in his legs. "You always complain about being too hot," she mocked.
"Doesn't mean I want your toes to give my shins frostbite."
"Did you set the timer on the coffee machine?" she asked quietly, but the only answer she received was his steady breathing against the back of her neck. Quickly, she too gave in to sleep.
Right on schedule a couple of hours later, Nadia's cries filtered down from the ceiling with JARVIS's voice. "The time is five-forty-nine, and Miss Rogers is awake."
Steve was still dead to the world, and it took Natasha a moment to extricate herself from his arms. When she stood, she could clearly see the bruises still marring his face. If his injuries were only half-healed, she had no desire to find a mirror anytime soon.
She slipped out of the bedroom and made her way to the kitchen where JARVIS mercifully already had coffee brewing. On the way, Natasha passed the modest Christmas tree Steve had erected. Unlike most of the other trees in the tower, this one was once a real tree and it was modestly decorated—white lights, strings of popcorn, a series of Avenger ornaments, and a silver star on top.
Natasha hastily made a bottle for Nadia before pouring herself a mug of the precious liquid; she didn't even mind scorching her throat as she downed half the drink on the way to the nursery. Once inside, she found her daughter red-faced and wet-cheeked, arms and legs flapping beneath her blanket. Nadia began to quiet down as soon as she was in her mother's arms and relaxed fully once she was able to start sucking down her first meal of the day.
"Morning," Natasha breathed as she used her pinky and thumb to wipe tears off of Nadia's cheeks. "You going to fall back asleep after this and let us get some rest? Probably not."
"Hey," Steve rumbled. He was leaning against the doorjamb of the nursery, heel of his hand digging into his unbruised eye, hair sticking up in every direction. "I can take her."
"Go back to sleep," Natasha answered. "You can take her this afternoon after we debrief." It was apparently all the convincing he needed before making his way back to bed.
She turned her attention back to her daughter and wondered for the five millionth time when it would stop feeling weird to have her own eyes staring back at her. Natasha had adapted to motherhood as best as one with her background could, only really fawning over Nadia in private, quiet moments like this. She used their alone time to note the changes and progress in her daughter's growth—the deepening shade of red to her hair, how the tips were starting to curl, the color of her eyes settling into a shade to match Natasha's.
Once the baby was fed, burped, and changed, the pair of them went out to the living room. Natasha settled herself in Steve's recliner. Nadia was content to snuggle against her chest for the moment, so Natasha took advantage of the situation and used a free hand to catch up on messages on her tablet. The debrief for the previous night's battle was scheduled for ten in the morning, in roughly four hours. Sleep pulled at Natasha, but she knew that Nadia's full belly wouldn't keep her in her happy place for long, and it would only be a matter of time before she wanted to play or practice her vocal skills.
By some miracle, Nadia decided to give her mother an early Christmas present because the next thing Natasha remembered was waking up to the scent of Steve's aftershave. "Morning," he greeted as he reached down to lift the sleeping baby off of Natasha's chest. "Debrief is in thirty. Darcy will be here in twenty. Go shower."
Natasha nodded and made her way to the bathroom, listening to Steve talk to Nadia, who'd woken up when moved. Under the spray of the hot water, she wondered again what to do over the next few days. Christmas was less than a week away. She and Steve had decided to only get a couple of things for Nadia, their reasoning was three-fold: she was a four-month-old baby, neither of them had a lot of extravagance growing up, and they were fine with their child being raised in a similar fashion. Besides, with Tony Stark as an uncle, there were other people in Nadia's life who would definitely spoil her with a pile of unnecessary gifts.
But then there was Steve, and for that Natasha didn't have a clue. She was one of the best spies in the world, and yet she had no idea what he wanted for Christmas. And he, undoubtedly, already had something simple yet thoughtful and meaningful already picked out for her. Natasha sighed and questioned why he would ever marry someone like her.
After she was cleaned up and dressed, she wolfed down the scrambled eggs and sausage Steve had prepared for both of them. They kissed Nadia goodbye and told Darcy that they'd be back in an hour. The debrief went relatively easily. It probably helped that half of them—definitely Phil, Thor, and Tony—had yet to sleep and we were willing to go through things quickly so they could crash.
The meeting wrapped up and Steve leaned over to tell her he was off to relieve Darcy, and that he and Nadia were going to have a spontaneous Daddy-daughter date for the Saturday afternoon. "She let me sleep enough this morning," Natasha replied. "You don't have to leave the apartment so I can get some peace."
Steve shrugged. "I've got a couple of errands to run, it's fine."
"Run out of your secret stash of Christmas cookies again?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.
"Maybe." He smiled. "See you later."
He trailed out of the room behind Tony and Phil on either side of a still groggy Bruce. Thor had been the first to leave, eager to return to his quarters and Jane, who'd just returned from a conference. That left Clint and Natasha as the remaining occupants of the conference room.
"What do you get the guy who a year ago was just your teammate but is now your husband and father to your kid for Christmas?" Natasha asked.
Clint shrugged as he gathered his things. "You could get 'im what I'm getting Phil."
"Which is?"
"Blow job." He laughed as Natasha slugged him on the arm. "Also, me going to spend Christmas Day with his family. But that's mostly because I'm hoping he'll reciprocate on that blow job."
"You're actually going with him?"
Clint gave a small nod. "We had to stay here last year what with Loki popping back in a couple weeks beforehand."
"And you being terrified that the magic would wear off on Phil and he'd collapse or something with the return of his injuries."
"It's cute how you think I'm not still terrified about that happening," Clint muttered. "Anyway, he didn't get to spend the holidays with his folks, and even though he'll tell you it doesn't eat at him, it does. Especially with this second-lease-on-life business."
"Are we taking bets on how long it will take you to break out into hives with all his family around you?"
He answered her question with a glare. "Oh, hey, we're leaving for Chicago on Tuesday. Think we could switch our night and take her on Monday?"
"That's fine," Natasha answered.
"And you promise to Skype on Christmas?"
She rolled her eyes. "She's four months old, Clint. She's just going to spit up and cry; you're not going to miss anything."
"It's my niece's first Christmas," he argued. "It's everything." Natasha wanted to have some witty comeback in place, but any word that came to mind turned to ash in her mouth. "Hey," Clint said quietly. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Doubt yourself. You're doing fine. So what if you don't know what to get Steve for Christmas? Happens all the time to couples. You're doing okay," he reassured quietly.
Natasha spent her afternoon picking up the apartment and finishing up some paperwork. Shortly before five, Steve and Nadia returned, the former carrying a box of cookies under his arm. "Don't eat them all in one night," Natasha warned as she scooped Nadia out of the sling draped across Steve's chest. The baby looked ridiculous is in her purple, puffy, one-piece winter outerwear, but Natasha found that most babies look ridiculous almost all of the time, so it was okay.
"Pepper called while we were out," Steve informed her. "Said if Phil and Clint weren't going to be around on Tuesday that she wanted to the chance to fill in for date night."
"Back-to-back date nights for us?"
Steve smiled. "I think the date she was referring to her included herself and Nadia."
"You sure that's a good idea?" Natasha questioned as she adjusted her hold on the squirmy baby. "We're probably pushing our luck with taking her to midnight mass. I have a feeling letting Tony around her for the hours beforehand will spell certain doom. I'm still not sure about both of us going to the late dinner before we go out for the service."
He shrugged. "Babies cry all the time during mass. It's fine. Besides—it's Christmas Eve. It's not like taking her out in public late at night is going to be a regular thing."
When Christmas Eve actually arrived, Phil and Clint stopped by to give one last goodbye to Nadia, even though they'd seen her the night before. They'd given her presents—a set of footie pajamas with reindeer all over them and a purple, plastic arrow that rattled—and Clint had refused to turn her back over to her parents until he'd finished reading her A Christmas Carol even though Nadia'd zonked out just after the Ghost of Christmas Past.
Clint issued yet another reminder to Skype the following morning. Natasha rolled her eyes and shooed them away, but snuck a reassuring touch to Clint's elbow. He thanked her with a small smile before they disappeared and made their way to the airport.
Steve and Natasha tried their best to keep Nadia as active as possible during the day so she would take a longer nap in the evening, but the baby was set in her routine and it just ended in a lot of crying and frustration. Natasha was slightly relieved to drop her off to Pepper around five with an apology and a promise to return by eight for the late supper.
While Natasha took care of that, Steve handled wrapping the few gifts they'd gotten together the previous night: a couple of new books, a new dress to wear to midnight mass (which was tucked away to be put on at the last minute in an effort to remain spit up-free), a stuffed ladybug, a trio of teething rings, and a framed picture Darcy took when they'd all gone out to Central Park during the first snow. That last one was more for Steve's benefit, but the gift was still addressed to Nadia.
Steve was nearly finished by the time she returned. All that remained was deciding whose name should go in the From spot on the gift tag. "Us?" he asked. "Santa?"
Natasha bit her tongue before something cruel fell out of her mouth. She didn't like lying to Nadia, and certainly didn't agree with feeding her tales of cutesy holiday things that would just crumble away when their daughter was old enough to figure things out, but it was hard to miss the hopeful look on Steve's face. Like most things holiday-related, he tried to stamp down his excitement. Natasha'd hoped that his holiday cheer would've been at least a little contagious, but so far nothing.
"If you want," she answered.
"We don't have to."
"It's fine."
He quickly pinned the name on to the gift tags. "Think we'll have to pay someone to come in dressed like Saint Nick in a few years? I can't really see either one of us standing in line at a mall."
"Pretty sure we could bribe Sitwell with steaks to do it."
Natasha watched Steve place the presents under the tree. There still wasn't anything for either of them resting on the velvet skirt, and Natasha didn't know whether to be worried or relieved by that. They took advantage of the rest of their time alone by taking advantage of each other, and they arrived at Tony and Pepper's promptly at eight dressed for the occasion.
They were the last to arrive—Thor, Jane, Darcy, and Bruce already there—and when they walked in they were greeted by the sight of Tony and Nadia lying on the tree skirt underneath the tree. The opulent display made Steve and Natasha's tree look pathetic, but the thing that stuck out most was the fact that Tony was on the floor in a ridiculously expensive suit, and Nadia was next to him wearing only her diaper and socks. Tony was talking to her about the most effective way to string as many lights as possible on a tree, and Nadia was cooing in response and kicking her legs out in excitement.
Tony heard Steve and Natasha enter and wriggled his way out from under the tree. He frowned down at Nadia, whose feet were the only thing sticking out from under the decoration. "I don't remember how I got her there, and I don't think it's a great idea for me to try and get her out."
From the couch Bruce rolled his eyes and stood. "It's really not that hard," he commented as he knelt down and scooped Nadia into his arms.
"I can take her," Steve offered.
"I got her," Bruce answered as he smiled down at her. "The only times I get her to myself are at her doctor's appointments. Let me have a little uncle time."
"Why is she nearly naked?" Natasha asked.
"Thor went a little overboard treating her like an airplane and flying her around the room," Darcy explained from her spot at the bar. "She projectile vomited everywhere. We couldn't find a spare set of clothes in her diaper bag, so Pepper's handwashing what she had on. She should be out in a second."
Steve turned to Thor and gave him a stern look. "There was no actual flying involved, correct?"
The demigod removed his hands from around Jane's waist and raised them in a gesture of surrender. "I am well aware of the rules regarding the care of your daughter, good Captain."
"Why didn't you just come get a new outfit?" Natasha questioned.
"JARVIS implied you two were busy banging," Darcy answered. "And no one wanted to interrupt that."
"But some of us wouldn't have minded watching," Tony interjected. He pointed a finger in Steve's direction. "You don't talk nearly enough about your sex life."
"And you talk about yours far too often," Pepper countered as she entered the room, Nadia's clothes in hand. "All clean," she announced as she handed them off to Bruce, the pair of them making quick work of redressing the baby.
They ate dinner together and just before leaving, Natasha put Nadia in her dress for the service. Happy drove them all out to Brooklyn to the cathedral Steve'd attended his whole life. Nadia, who'd fallen asleep in the car, woke up when they arrived. The new surrounding only kept her interest for about fifteen minutes before she gave into cries of exhaustion. Natasha tried to shush and settle her, but to no avail. Quickly, to avoid any further glares from the parishioners around them, she grabbed the diaper bag and snuck outside. She held Nadia closely as they shivered in the bitterly cold air before sliding into the back of the limo they'd rode in.
"I've got the heat going," Happy informed her over the sound of Nadia's cries. "Let me know if you need anything else."
Natasha only nodded her acknowledgement. What she wanted was to be left alone. She'd rather strip in the backseat a hundred times over like she had in her first days of Natalie Rushman than have him witness a time where her insecurities as a mother were threatening to rise up and drown her.
He must've sensed what she was thinking, because he closed the partition between them. Natasha breathed a small sigh of relief at that. "C'mon," she quietly pleaded. "I know we screwed up your schedule today, but your Daddy really wants to do this. So if you could just calm down for him."
It took nearly twenty minutes to quell the child, and just as Nadia finally fell asleep the rest of the group joined them in the car. Steve wrapped an arm around Natasha's shoulders and peered down at his now-sleeping daughter. Natasha felt his eyes turn on her, but she kept her focus on Nadia for the entire trip back.
Everyone around them remained quiet for the baby's sake, and the silence continued as the three of them broke off from the group to walk into their quarters. JARVIS kept the lights low as Natasha walked into the nursery. With Steve's help, she quickly undressed Nadia and slipped her into the pajamas Phil and Clint had given her the day before.
"Sorry tonight didn't work out," Natasha apologized in a whisper as she placed Nadia into the crib.
Steve shrugged. "I figured it would happen. Next time I'll be the one to take her out to the car."
Natasha shook her head. "Mass is your thing. You don't have to miss it."
He reached into the crib to adjust the blanket draped over their daughter. "This time next year we'll have to make sure she doesn't sneak away from us and toddle down the aisle."
While Natasha longed for the time when her baby could be a bit more self-dependent, there was a dull ache in her stomach at the thought of Nadia being old enough to walk. "I'm sorry," she repeated.
He sighed next to her. "Natasha, I promise it's fine. Kids cry—"
"Not about that," she interrupted as she turned to look him in the eye for the first time since she'd fled the cathedral with a sobbing child. "I didn't get you anything for Christmas. I tried looking for something, but any idea I had seemed trite. Sorry."
The corner of his mouth pulled up and he fought the smile that threatened to take over. "I didn't get you anything either." She raised her eyebrows at the confession. "I figured you couldn't find anything from the way you were acting, and I didn't want to make you feel worse. Besides," he added as he stole a glance at Nadia, "you've already given me plenty this year."
"Clint suggested your present be a blow job."
Steve snickered at that. "Well, I'm not going to turn down the offer if you're willing." She made a move to shove him, but he easily caught her hand in his and began to sweep a thumb over the inside of her wrist. "We okay?" he asked quietly.
She looked up at him, this man who was willing to take on the hardest thing she'd ever faced. This man who loved her despite her obvious flaws and her inability to return the words and displays of affection. This man who took her daughter as his own without question or complaint. She would never deserve having him in her life, but she nodded nonetheless.
"Good," he said as he gently tugged her against him. He placed a kiss into her hair and whispered, "Merry Christmas."