Romanogers - Oneshots

𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫' 𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔰 𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢

"You have got to be kidding me."

Tony looks at Clint, and Clint looks at Tony, and they both look back at Natasha, who looks like a saucepan about to boil over.

"Ummm..."

She looks up at Steve, but he's staring in the other direction, wincing.

"You are telling me, that you dragged us miles out here to cut down a fucking Christmas tree without a fucking axe?!"

Clint pats his pockets again, as if hoping that one will have appeared by divine intervention in the last forty five seconds. Tony shrinks into his coat and steps behind Bruce, muttering something about maybe needing the big guy.

In Natasha's mind, she has every right to be frustrated. She had been looking forward to a lazy morning with Steve, but no. Tony had to drag their asses out into the cold. Clint had to sing off key into her ear for the hour drive to the bloody farm - why the hell couldn't they buy it already cut down like normal people. Tony had to force them to tramp through a forest through the snow and cold until they found the perfect fir, all in the name of new traditions. Well, the only tradition Natasha wanted to start was lying in bed with Steve, catching themselves up on the festive films of the 20th century, that which she had previously labelled 'gross capitalist propaganda'.

And they hadn't even remembered the bloody axe.

She feels Steve, over his second-hand embarrassment, pressing into her from behind, opening his coat and wrapping it around them both. It calms her, his warmth enveloping her and his lips pressed into her hair, even sprinkled with snow. She's grateful for the extra heat. Neither are fond of the cold. That's one thing they have in common.

Natasha doesn't say anything else, calmed, instead clams up and watches, mute as Clint sprints back to the farm shack and back again, stifling mirth as he and Tony fumble with the axe once they have it, barely chipping the trunk. She concedes Steve on the basis that the quicker this tree gets down, the quicker she can have him to herself.

Only Tony has more in store for them on return to the compound.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Hands on hips with Steve behind her, Natasha spins on her heel. "Away from you lot. Alone."
"But we still have to decorate it!" Clint gestures to the sullen looking pine, bare of decor. Natasha glares back.
"No."
"Nat..." Steve kisses her hand, looking sheepish. "We should at least help." Damn him. He shouldn't be allowed to melt her like this.
"Last thing."
"Last thing," he promises.

Bitterly, she's participates in decking the tree with tinsel and personalised Avengers custom baubles. The angel takes a painful number of minutes to mount, but she grabs him by the collar as soon as it's settled. This time, he eagerly follows.