[Bucky Barnes; R] I'll Be Home For Christmas: Chapter 16 Character/Series: Bucky Barnes, Cast; Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: R Notes: I'll be home for Christmas, you can count on me. Title: I'll Be Home For Christmas- Chapter 16: Christmas Author:yuuo Word Count: 6942 Summary:Bucky got to the shelter a bit early, just to help the kitchen workers set up.
Bucky got to the shelter a bit early, just to help the kitchen workers set up. The Christmas Eve dinner was a big deal for the vets, which meant a little extra love was tossed into the meal. And that meant extra hands were needed. They technically had enough people, but Bucky didn't like standing by idle while others were working.
"We have more people show up for the meal on Christmas Eve," Jennie said. "Will you go out and try to count how many people we have, and make sure everyone knows that only the first hundred and thirty-six get beds, but we can accommodate up to two hundred for the meal?"
"Consider it done," Bucky said, and headed outside. There was already a sizeable line, and Bucky walked down until he got to number one twenty-eight and stared at her. "I see you're back," he said.
Ella smiled. "Yeah. Got a reason for it. I'll tell ya inside. Get back to counting, Sergeant."
Bucky gave her a rude gesture in reply before continuing down the line. Once he'd counted out the lucky one hundred thirty-six people they had beds for, he let the others know behind them that there weren't enough beds. He then counted up to a hundred and ninety before the line stopped. He waited until the vets were let inside, but only another two showed up. That filled them almost to capacity. He decided to stay by the door once everyone was in to see if the last eight would show up before the food was all gone.
Some of the men prayed before eating, as was normal, but it seemed more of them did this time. There were some familiar faces in the group, a lot of unfamiliar ones, like they took turns out there to make sure everyone got an occasional hot meal and warm bed. Just like a proper unit taking care of each other.
Ella being there meant Bucky got assigned to bodyguard duty again, and John volunteered to take over the remaining security position that Bucky had to vacate.
"Are you sure?" Jennie asked.
John nodded. "Yeah, I'll just tell Mom we're bumping Christmas morning back an hour or two. She won't mind, she and Paul aren't exactly crack-of-dawn risers anyway."
"Bless you," Jennie said. "Tell them I said Merry Christmas and thank you for understanding."
"Mind if I go call them now?" he asked.
"By all means," Jennie said, then looked at Bucky. "Think you can hold the front line while he's doing that?"
Bucky grinned. "I've herded tougher groups than this," he said. "It's not like it'll take him long."
Jennie smiled. "Thank you so much, Mister Barnes. Excuse me, I have a kitchen to tend to."
Bucky wondered how long it'd take to convince Jennie to call him 'Bucky' instead of 'Mister Barnes'. At least she wasn't calling him 'Sergeant', though.
Dinner passed without any incidents, and Ella remained safe under Bucky's watchful eye. She had him get permission for her to use the showers again. He stood guard at the showers while she cleaned up, returning five minutes later with her hair in a wet braid instead of the pony tail he'd only ever seen her in.
"So what's this reason you have for coming here tonight?" he asked her once she was sitting on her bed, not ready for bed, not by a long shot, but just relaxing and enjoying having a holiday off the streets.
Ella didn't answer at first, listening to the other vets talk, and singing along a bit when some broke out into old carols. "I took your advice," she said after a few minutes. "I have a job interview tomorrow with the VA. They're looking to hire me." She looked up at him with a smile. "So I wanted to make sure I got a shower and into my new clothes I picked up with some of the money you gave me. Looks like I'm finally getting out of here."
Bucky frowned. "Tomorrow's Christmas, how are you getting interviewed tomorrow?"
"Sergeant Lewis is doing it personally, invited me to his family dinner and everything," she said. "I think you directing me to him made him happy enough to spend some of his holiday helping another vet out. It's getting me off the streets, if this goes well. And I got you to thank for it. So Merry Christmas, Barnes. You're a good man."
Bucky made a point of showing nothing but a smile, kept in the desire to cry; he had done someone some good. Someone was getting a new lease on life because of him. After spending so many years taking down innocent people, and the last two only trying to make up for it with more kills, it left a warm feeling all over to know that he was repairing someone's life without having to put blood on his hands to do it.
"Merry Christmas, Ella." He motioned towards the other vets, most of them singing carols at this point. "Why don't you join them?"
"Only if you do," she said.
"Oh no," he said, shaking his head. "I don't sing. I'm no good at it. I kinda warble more than sing."
Ella raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you hearing these guys? You're not exactly in a professional choir here. But, okay. Hope you don't mind if I do my own warbling for awhile. Seems Christmas is the only time I can interact with the guys without worrying for my safety." She looked up at him. "Did they really stop all fighting back in your war when Christmas came around?"
"Don't make me older than I already am," Bucky said, grumpy. "That was the Great War. The Christmas Truce happened three years before I was even born. Believe me, the soldiers wanted it to happen again, but it wasn't really that much of a thing in the second world war."
"Mm. Sorry. History was never my strong suit. Anyway, you be Mister Stoic Bodyguard, I'm going to enjoy what is hopefully my last Christmas out here with these guys."
The night passed quietly, the singing eventually tapering off into snores and the occasional vet getting up and shuffling to the bathroom before flopping back on their bed. In the kitchen, Bucky could faintly hear Jennie humming O Holy Night.
Morning came with a large breakfast, other vets again invited in for the meal. Ella made a point of sitting near the men that morning, making Bucky's work a bit more difficult, but as with the night before, the men were behaving. After her food was gone, Ella made a pit stop in the bathroom and emerged in a fairly nice sweater and leggins, far nicer than anything he'd seen anyone who came into the shelter wearing before. She had her hair done up in the curls they'd dried in with her braid.
Bucky couldn't help but smile. "You look good."
She returned the smile, doing a turn around. "So I pass inspection, sir?"
"You outrank me, but if you're addressing me as a guy with an eye for the ladies, yes, you do," he said. "Go enjoy that meal, and the job you're getting."
"It's not a sure thing yet," she pointed out.
"I'm willing to lay down some good money that it is," Bucky said. "Now go on, the shelter's closing for the day, and you have an interview to get to. Do you have enough for cab fare?"
"Sure do," Ella said. "I'm good at making money stretch, and you gave me more than I probably needed." She pulled him into a hug. "Merry Christmas, Barnes. You get home to that friend that needs you, enjoy the holiday."
Getting hugs from pretty ladies never bothered him, and this one seemed like a special Christmas gift. "Merry Christmas, Ella. I'd better not see you here again."
"God willing," she said, then headed out with the other vets.
Bucky watched to make sure she got into her cab safely, then offered to help the kitchen staff with clean up. They chased him out, so he went home.
Steve was up and waiting for him, still in his pajamas and sitting by the tree like an excited little kid waiting for his parents to get up so he could open his gifts from Santa. "You're home earlier than normal."
Bucky tugged off his boots and shoved them into the coat closet. "They wouldn't let me help with kitchen clean up today," he said. "Merry Christmas to you, too."
Steve grinned. "Merry Christmas. Now get over here and open your presents."
With a melodramatic sigh, Bucky flopped onto the couch Steve wasn't occupying. "What about you? I bought that wrapping paper just to try to convince you to tear it like a normal person. You've got gifts to unwrap, too."
"And I will," Steve said. "But you first."
"It's too early for you," Bucky said, but grabbed the presents, handing Steve's his, wrapped in shiny Captain America wrapping paper, before taking his own and sitting back down with them. Making a point of shredding the blue and silver wrapping paper- Steve was much nicer than Bucky had been, and Bucky had a feeling he'd be paying for it next year -and stared at the text book. "Isn't this one of the books Tony was going to give me to catch me up on science?" he asked.
Steve grinned. "I didn't know what to give you this year, so I asked Tony to give me the names he wanted you to have so I could give them to you instead. You need a new hobby, so I'm helping."
"Lemme guess, these others are the same?" Bucky asked, eyeing the three other wrapped gifts that looked roughly the same size and shape as the book he was holding.
"Not gonna deny it," Steve said. "There's a few other things, but you're hard to shop for."
"That's okay, there's not much variety in your presents, either," Bucky admitted. "Speaking of, open yours, before I hit you on the head with this book."
Steve made a point of picking on Bucky for being too much like his brother that they both got him art supplies. Bucky again threatened him with a thick text book to the head. Steve laughed at him.
Bucky had enough time to take a quick nap after he'd put his texts away on the bookcase, and find a place for his own new sketchbook and pencils, given with the thought of getting back into designing weapons. That left a box of tools that Steve'd had made to not slip in Bucky's left hand when he finally got to work with Tony and Bruce. He left Steve to play around with his paints and canvas. Bucky would've rather sat down with his new toys, but he had to cook two geese that afternoon for a group of ten people, three of whom needed more than one serving's worth of food.
Thank everything that geese were big birds.
Steve had cleaned up the gift mess and was at the table, testing mixed colors on a canvas he'd chosen to be his scratch canvas. Bucky was glad he'd picked up more than one of those things.
Steve looked behind him when Bucky wandered into the main room. "Did you get enough sleep to make it tonight?"
Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Might yawn a bit, but I won't burn the birds. I'm aiming to impress some people who are used to gourmet food, my adrenaline levels from the panicking are going to keep me going."
"You are not going to panic," Steve said. "If you need to, Bruce might've come up with something that will stick in your system like caffeine used to. You can always ask."
Bucky stared up at the screen, pulled into the ceiling, out of the way of the tree and the view out of the windows. "Good point. JARVIS, can you lower the screen, please? I need to call Bruce."
"Doctor Banner is currently at his apartment," JARVIS said, as the screen lowered. "He does not seem to be busy, though. Shall I put in the call?"
"Please," Bucky said, rubbing his face with his flesh hand. Despite what he told Steve, he was tired. He was right in that he'd make it, but he might not enjoy the party as much as if he'd had better sleep.
Bruce's face appeared on screen. "Merry Christmas," he said in greeting. "I have a feeling this isn't a social call, since we have a party to attend in a couple hours."
Bucky looked apologetic. "Merry Christmas and good guess. I have two geese to cook between now and then, and I'm getting a bit sleep deprived, even by my standards. I don't suppose you've found anything that can give me an energy kick with my metabolism rate?"
"Oh! Uh, yeah, actually, I did," Bruce said, brightening. "I was hoping I'd get a chance to test it, see how it works. I was going to ask Steve after the holidays, since I know you don't like being experimented on, but if you're willing, we can meet up in the medlab. I'll have it ready."
"This is one experiment I don't mind," Bucky said. "As long as it doesn't put me back to sleep and I end up burning the geese, it's fine."
"It won't," Bruce said. "I'll meet you in a few minutes."
"I won't be far behind," Bucky said. "I have to put in a call to Tony real quick."
They exchanged good byes, and then Bucky had JARVIS contact Tony.
When Tony appeared on screen, he looked far too peppy for Bucky's current sleep status. "Well, hey, good afternoon, old guy! You look tired."
Bucky couldn't do more than stare at him for a moment, squinting slightly. "I've had about five hours of sleep in the last forty-eight," he said. "And I'm not on a mission to keep me awake."
"I could offer coffee, but that doesn't work on you."
"It doesn't. I'm going to go to the medlab in a minute; Bruce has developed something to try for that. But I have a problem that you might help me with."
"I'm all ears," Tony said, cupping his hands behind his ears.
Bucky resisted the urge say something smart to that. "I have two geese, and I have only one oven up here."
"Oh. That's it? I was going to give you access to the industrial kitchens that cook for Stark Industries functions." Then he got a childish grin. "You're gonna love 'em. I'll meet you and Bruce at the medlab, then take you down to them. I want to see your face when you see what you get all to yourself today. That'll be your present to me for Christmas, as long as you don't disappoint me."
"I thought I already gave you a present," Bucky said.
"That present got cut short, you owe me another one."
Bucky tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling to hide the amusement on his face. Once he was sure he wasn't going to laugh, he looked back at Tony. "Yeah, but we had fun."
Tony looked like he was seriously considering how fun that had been. "True. You still don't get to disappoint me. I'll meet you down at the lab."
They disconnected, and Bucky turned to go get socks and his boots on.
"Going to invite your best friend along on this trip?" Steve said from his seat at the table.
Bucky stopped and looked back to see him half turned in his seat, his canvas full of nonsense colors on the table easel in front of him. "You're playing with your paints," Bucky said. "I figured you'd wanna keep doing that."
Steve looked up at the clock, then back to Bucky. "It's almost time for the party anyway, I can head with Bruce out to the dining room, see who else has shown up so far. Besides, whatever Bruce has made might work on me, too. Kinda wanna see what it is."
Bucky shrugged. "I'll wait for you, then."
Steve was still cleaning up his palette when Bucky returned with socks on. It took him another minute to join Bucky- who had stopped to grab his tablet so he had access to his recipes -at the door and put on his shoes. They let JARVIS lock up behind them.
Bruce was already at the medlab when they got there, once they'd navigated their way through the medical center proper back to Bruce's custom lab, proudly labeled as his. He was playing with some pill bottles, dividing several rather large pills between them. He looked up. "Oh, good, you're here." He held up the bottles. "One for each of you. I didn't know you were coming, Cap, I was just going to have Bucky give them to you later."
Bucky took his bottle from Bruce, reading the label. "Methylphenidate-C?"
"Methylphenidate is Ritalin," Bruce said. "It's a dopamine reuptake inhibitor. Basically, it increases concentrations of dopamine and norepinephrine."
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Science to English translation, please?"
"It's a psychostimulant," Bruce said. "Increases concentration, combats fatigue, keeps you alert. It's often prescribed for ADHD and ADD in children. The C part stands for caffeine. Normally, combining caffeine and Ritalin is a bad idea- the two have similar effects in that they both are stimulants, and combining them tends to send normal people into the tenth dimension from how over stimulated they are. The drop down tends to be worse, too, so you'll wanna watch for that."
Bucky raised an eyebrow. "So in other words, you're drugging us up to our eyeballs in the hope that if we have enough of it, it'll take longer for our bodies to metabolize them."
"Not entirely," Bruce said. "Well, yes, essentially, but I modified some of the compounds a bit, increased their half life values. They should just last longer in general."
Bucky shook one of the pills out into his hand. "This is a horse pill."
"You can cut them in half," Bruce said. "But I recommend just having a glass of water to chase it down with."
"Chase what down with?" Tony's voice asked from behind them.
Bucky half-turned and shook his bottle side to side for Tony to see. "These horse pills that Bruce is drugging us with. Ritalin and caffeine mixed into a lovely cocktail of what the hell."
Tony walked over, looking at the pill in Bucky's hand. "Ritalin and caffeine. That'd make an average person have a heart attack."
"Which is why he thinks it might work on us," Bucky said. He looked around the room for a sink. He spotted one, but no signs of any safe drinking glasses nearby. He motioned towards the sink. "Mind if I get a drink?"
Bruce turned to look at the sink behind him. "There's no glasses, but if you want, sure. I wasn't as prepared for you as I thought."
"I called you on short notice," Bucky said, walking over to the sink. He turned on the water, made sure it wasn't running hot, then popped the pill and took a drink, having to tilt his head sideways to catch the stream. He swallowed and straightened, squeezing some water out of his hair. "Note to self, move hair out of the way first." He made the same face he'd get when he was forced to eat peas as a child. "Those pills taste awful, Bruce."
Bruce chuckled. "I hadn't made them for regular use. If I had, I would've tried to be nicer. They're for emergencies only, at least until we can safely observe the effects they have on you two."
Bucky tucked his prescription bottle into one of his cargoes' pockets. "Your turn, Steve, I ain't suffering alone."
Steve studied his bottle. "I don't know, I got enough sleep. I don't think I need that much of an energy hit."
"Probably not," Tony agreed, taking Steve's bottle from him and looking over the medicine information. "But it'd be best to find out how they work in a controlled setting. They could be useful out on a job, and you don't want to be experimenting with drugs in the field. For all you know, with your altered DNA, this stuff could put you to sleep."
Steve looked reluctant, then looked skyward as if praying for strength to do something he didn't want to do, and held his hand out for the bottle. "You make a point, and I hate that you make a point. Gimme one, I'll go test it."
"It would be interesting if the medicine has different effects on you two," Bruce said. "The chemicals used to enhance you both were different. While the results were roughly the same, the way they might have altered your genetics to allow for those enhancements might mean that what works for one, won't work for the other. I'll need those blood samples I mentioned eventually, but I'll be nice, since it's Christmas, and not beg too hard in the meantime."
"You'll get your blood, Banner," Bucky said. "Vampire."
Bruce grinned. "I don't drink it, I just drop chemicals in it to watch it turn pretty colors."
"And you don't sparkle," Tony added.
Steve smothered a laugh with a cough. "Those were probably the worst books I've ever read."
"I've read worse," Tony said. "I made the mistake of reading the Save The Pearls trilogy. If you are a decent human being and have a problem with racism, do your blood pressure a favor and don't read it."
Bucky pulled his tablet out of his pants' biggest pocket and turned it on.
"Looking it up?" Tony asked.
"I want to see how bad it is," Bucky said, doing a search. He took a step back as Steve walked past him to take one of their new pills from Bruce. After skimming the Wikipedia article on the first book, he promptly shut down his tablet and put it away. "I will never complain about Harry Potter again."
"Oh god," Steve said from the sink, wiping his mouth. "Bruce, those pills taste terrible! It was like having chalk in my mouth the second the water hit it."
Bruce shrugged helplessly. "Like I said, if it was something you'd have to take regularly, I would've at least coated them to disguise the taste. You shouldn't need it more than occasionally, so you'll just have to accept the chalky taste."
Steve whole expression was one of disgust, and he kept smacking his lips like doing so might get rid of the taste. "Okay, Bucky, that goose had better be fantastic, because anything short of that isn't going to get this flavor out of my mouth."
"Wimp," Bucky said. "Speaking of the goose, though, Tony." He looked over at the man in question. "Where is this kitchen? And is that where the food I bought is being kept?"
"The kitchen, yes! The food's there, ready and waiting. Two thawed smoked geese, your spices and wine, various vegetables, a lot of potatoes, the hard boiled eggs that I'm not sure what you're going to do with, the sugars, biscuit dough, flour, and god only knows what else. Sound good?"
"I'll take full inventory when I get down there," Bucky said.
Bruce frowned. "Are you planning on feeding the Avengers, or a regular army unit?"
"You mean they're not the same?" Bucky asked. "There's three of us with accelerated metabolisms, and I'm sure someone will want to take leftovers home to reheat later. The food won't go to waste."
"Don't bother asking what he's making," Steve said. "He won't tell me beyond 'goose'. And cookies."
Tony perked up. "Cookies? What kind of cookies?"
"Depends on how much time I have," Bucky said. "And what ingredients there are to work with. I planned for two types, at least."
"Are you going to have time to cook everything, Buck?" Steve asked.
Bucky looked back at him. "I'm going to be spending about three hours in there, a lot of that time waiting while the geese or the drizzle for the geese cook. I have plenty of time to make other things, rather than just twiddle my damn thumbs. Christmas dinner does not mean just one dish. And Christmas doesn't get to be Christmas without some damn Christmas cookies."
"You could've had a good career in the food industry," Tony said. He looked at Bruce and pointed at Bucky. "Have you had any of his food yet? It's fantastic."
"Can't say that I have," Bruce said. "But uh. If the gourmet of the group says it's good, I'll look forward to it."
Bucky shrugged. "I like cooking. If I'd made it my career, I would've ended up hating it. Designing weapons is something I can go home from. Cooking isn't. I'd still have to cook my own dinner."
Tony nodded his head side to side. "Okay, fair. Completely fair. Anyway, come on, I want to see what you think of the wonder that is the kitchen you'll be using tonight."
"Lead on, and I'll get started. The rest of you can start socializing without me."
"Not to be crass or anything," Bruce said, moving to follow them out the door, "but we rather planned on it. I'm going to get Natasha and Clint. I agreed to let Natasha come, but only in a wheelchair that keeps her leg straight and elevated. She's not happy, but Clint made her compromise."
Bucky grunted. "Good. She's a stupid woman."
Bruce parted ways with them at a junction in the med center, one hall running off towards the recovery room Natasha was in, the main hall leading out.
"You are going to love this kitchen," Tony said once they were on the elevators.
"So you've said," Bucky said. "Keep overstating it, and it'll be a disappointment to whatever I'm picturing in my head."
"I doubt that," Tony said.
Bucky decided to not argue, just marking what floor they got off on and their route as Tony led them back into the ball room, which now had a single large table set up near the back of the room, with a socialization area nearby, couches and chairs and small tables scattered about in a loose circular formation. There were rooms that ran off from both sides of the back. Tony said one went to the security office, with the other side near the podium being a small office to prepare for speeches. The room they were interested in, however, was closer to the table, in the room further from the security room.
Bucky had to stop in his tracks upon entering the kitchen, staring at the sterile, stainless steel room full of fridges, stoves, ovens, and an endless supply of counter space. There were pots and pans hanging from hoods over the counters and ovens, and drawers and cupboards, he could only imagine full of every dish and utensil needed to cook whatever he damn well pleased.
"You just had a kitchengasm, didn't you?" Tony asked.
Bucky forced himself to stop staring into the kitchen to look at the smug grin on Tony's face. "That's accurate, yes." Behind them, Steve just laughed.
Tony motioned Bucky towards one of the refrigerators. "Take inventory, Master Chef. If there's anything missing, I'll have it brought in immediately."
Bucky beelined to the nearest fridge and grabbed his tablet out of his pocket, pulling up the recipes he wanted to make. Two geese, every ingredient needed for the drizzle, for the candied carrots, roasted cauliflower, deviled eggs, biscuits, the herbed green beans, as well as the ginger cookies and the Russian Tea Lights he was making, mostly with Natasha in mind.
He looked around. "Where are the potatoes?"
Tony pointed to a vegetable bin under one of the island-style counters. "Down there, ten pounds of potatoes, as requested. What the hell are you making that we need ten pounds of potatoes?"
"Mashed potatoes. There's ten of us, three who eat more than one serving," Bucky said. "Just be glad I'm not doing Irish cooking for Christmas. You could easily double that number."
Steve made an irritated face at him. "Stop making fun of my country's food, filthy colonist."
"Dirty immigrant. Now out, both you, out of my kitchen. Go get the others and talk for awhile. You'll see me again in about three and a quarter hours."
Tony put on a dramatic face. "Oh, but that's forever from now! How will we survive?"
Bucky pointed very sternly at the door. "Out."
Once they were gone, Bucky went to work.
The three and quarter hours went by quickly, with the ten pounds of fucking potatoes taking up most of his time. If it weren't for how many ovens there were, allowing him to cook two types of cookies at the same time, then the biscuits in one and the roasted cauliflower in another in the last twenty minutes before the geese finished, he would've had to skip on a lot of the food he'd planned.
He was glad for that Ritalin/Caffeine pill Bruce had given him. That shit had him practically bouncing around the kitchen.
It took him a minute to figure out how to get two main dishes, five sides, and two generous platters of cookies out of the kitchen without making multiple trips. He finally located a serving cart, piled the food on it, took a second to steel his nerves- he'd never made a nice dinner like this for anyone, much less a group of people he was looking to impress -and pushed it out to the ballroom.
The rest of the Avengers were seated at the socialization area, Natasha next to Clint's chair in her wheelchair, her left leg sticking out like a tripping hazard. Their talking stopped upon seeing the gigantic dinner Bucky had just spent over three hours making for them.
"Oh my god," Pepper said upon standing and getting a good look at how much food Bucky was putting on the dining table. "I didn't realize you were treating us to a royal banquet."
Thor stood, waiting patiently as Steve got up and offered his hand to Sharon, then followed the others as they filed over to the table. "It smells as good as any feast I have attended in Asgard."
Bucky heard Natasha squabble a bit at Clint and looked over in time to see Natasha hitting Clint's hand away from the handles of her wheelchair, asserting that she could wheel herself over. She stubbornly tried to navigate to the table without her injured leg hitting the table. She ultimately situated herself at the end where she could sit sideways and her left leg wouldn't hit anyone in the side.
Steve sat himself where Sharon could sit on one side of him, leaving the other side for Bucky. Bucky claimed the chair by holding onto the back of it, waiting until it was clear that he didn't have to run off to get something he forgot.
Maria sat down on the seat next to him. "Mind some company?" she asked.
Bucky smiled. "Not at all. You're prettier to look at than him," he said, giving Steve's shoulder a good-natured jab.
Steve gave him a dirty look and pointed at Bucky's seat. "Sit down next to your pretty lady and your put out friend. You don't get to sit dinner out after making it."
"I'm not," Bucky said. "I'm making sure I don't have to run and get something I forgot."
"I do not think you forgot anything, Bucky," Thor assured him, already helping himself to some goose. "I see the table wants for nothing."
Tony had already grabbed a deviled egg and popped it into his mouth. "I agree," he said around a mouthful of food. "Sit. Enjoy. It smells fantastic, and I see why you had ten pounds of potatoes. That is a lot of mashed potatoes."
While Bucky sat down, Bruce looked over the offerings, grabbing a platter and dishing himself some of the herbed green beans, and the group quickly fell into a dish-and-pass pattern, food going around the table until everyone had gotten what they wanted. "Did you make this all from scratch?" Bruce asked.
"Except the biscuits. I cheated and had Pillsbury help me with those."
"I think we can forgive you for that, with everything else," Clint said, passing a tray of cookies to Natasha.
Natasha took the tray and stared at the cookies, picking up one. "Are these Russian Tea Lights?" She looked genuinely shocked.
Bucky smiled. "They are. Made them with you in mind, I figured the wounded party member deserved something nice for Christmas to make up for having to spend it in a wheelchair."
For a brief moment, Bucky thought she might get wet-eyed, but if she did, he couldn't see it. What he did see, though, was a genuine smile. She held up the cookie. "You worked hard on it," she said, popping the tea light in her mouth and passing the tray along after grabbing a couple more for her plate.
Bucky decided that his cooking had turned out all right after all, certainly worth the time he put into it, and the compliments from his friends made it obvious that they thought so as well. Conversation lingered even after plates were emptied, filled, and emptied again.
With the end of dinner came the promise of having to clean the kitchen. Bucky slumped in his seat a bit, staring back at the kitchen. He wanted to kick his feet and whine that he didn't wanna, but it wasn't going to do itself. With a sigh, he stood and started gathering up plates.
Steve looked up at him as Bucky grabbed his plate. "What're you doing?"
"Going to go clean up," Bucky said. "Unless Tony wants me to ruin his nice cookware and dishes by leaving them to mold up in the sinks."
"We'll do it," Tony said. "I don't normally volunteer for work, but you made us this dinner, call it our thank you." He stood. "You can keep Natasha from trying to join us and get in our way."
Natasha glowered at him. "Stark, if there was a way to hit you with my brain-"
"You would've done it already," Tony said, finishing her threat with a smile far too bright to be anything other than smart assed. He looked at Bucky. "Seriously, you two go sit down, we got this."
Bucky couldn't even protest before the others chimed in, telling him to plant his ass. Not wanting to take on all the Avengers, and not particularly wanting to win if he did, Bucky shrugged and wandered off to claim a spot on a couch. Natasha wheeled herself over behind him.
She maneuvered herself to next to a chair that Bucky assumed would be where Barton would be sitting, putting herself across from Bucky. She studied him, tilted her head forward like she was studying a strange bug. "Is that your Cornhuskers shirt?"
He looked down at the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing, then shrugged, looking up at her. "I don't have anything green, and this was the warmest red shirt I had. I need more color in my wardrobe, I think." He smiled. "Besides, it's Christmas, it's a good time to wear a gift from a friend."
The same look she had when she asked about the cookies showed up on her face, then a sort of half smile, one that looked genuine and not at all that Mona Lisa smile that he at once loved and hated. "I can see why Steve said you used to be a lady's man. You're very good at handing out compliments."
He sat back, folding his hands behind his head. "I think people need to hand out more compliments, at least to friends. We'd make each other a lot happier if we did." He tilted his head slightly to look at her better. "So how's it feel to be home for Christmas?"
She gave her leg an evil glare. "It'd be better if I could at least sit properly, but-" She smiled again. "It's nice. And I should be asking you that myself. New place to live, new family to celebrate with, and it seem like you've been accepted as one of us. New freedom."
Bucky turned his head to look in towards the kitchen. "It's nice. That whole 'I'll Be Home For Christmas' song we'd hear at USO shows was kinda the way it was for a long time. Only in my dreams, you know?" He looked back at her. "Is that song still popular?"
Natasha nodded wearily. "Oh, yes. Every pop and country artist ever has done a recording of it, and you can hear twenty versions of it in a store in a forty minute span of time. Was it your favorite growing up?"
He blinked. "What? No, that song didn't come around until after the war started. My favorite was 'On A Good Old Time Sleigh Ride'. Ever hear of it?"
She shook her head. "No. When was it written?"
Bucky opened his mouth to answer, then stopped to actually think about it. "Not sure, actually. It came out a few years before I was born, though. I figured if the stuff from the war era was still in memory, maybe what I grew up on was. I know Jingle Bells is still around and annoying parents everywhere."
Natasha actually laughed, just a subtle and amused noise. "With all sorts of childish variations, including questioning Batman's personal hygiene." She looked towards the kitchen, the sounds of their friends talking and occasionally yelping as dishware and pans and pots and silverware clinked and clattered.
Bucky almost considered going in to supervise, since it sounded like they couldn't be trusted to clean a kitchen as a team without someone coordinating the efforts, but he decided against it. He didn't want back in that kitchen to help clean anything. He looked away from the noise when he saw Natasha look over at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Merry Christmas, James," she said.
He resisted the urge to cringe at the use of his name. "Merry Christmas, Natalia." There, see how she liked it.
She stared at him. "I call you Bucky, you call me Natasha and those two names are not spoken of unless there is trouble."
Having gotten the reaction he hoped, he grinned. "You got it. So let's try that again. Merry Christmas, Natasha."
Once more, there was that smile, and Bucky decided he liked that smile, would happily find new ways to put it there. "Merry Christmas, Bucky. Welcome home."