CHAPTER THREE —
( Merry Christmas, Evelyn. )

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        'Twas the night before Christmas, and not a single Christmas decoration littered the Avengers Tower. No ornaments glinted from the hallways, and no tree stood tall in the common area. The usually sleek, ultra-modern space was frustratingly festive-free. No one had time. Missions, briefings, debriefings, and last-minute threats left the holiday spirit buried underneath duty.

But Evelyn Parrish refused to let Christmas pass uncelebrated.

Kneeling on her and Steve's shared bedroom floor, she surveyed her handiwork. The soft golden glow of fairy lights framed the frosted windows, a wreath hung from the doorway, and tinsel hugged the walls. A snow projector she rigged up created an illusion of snowfall outside.

Steve lay fast asleep behind her, one arm lazily thrown over her side of the bed. His soft breathing filled the quiet room, the calm after another chaotic day. Evelyn glanced at the digital clock.

12:00am

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips. Christmas had officially begun. But as far as she was concerned, the Tower hadn't earned the title yet.

She lay back on the plush carpet in thought. A bunch of lights lay coiled near Steve's nightstand like an afterthought. Her gaze drifted to it—and an idea sparked to life, bright and untamed.

She bolted upright.

12:03am. Everyone should be asleep. Maybe not Tony—he ran on caffeine and insomnia—but the rest? Definitely snoring by now. Especially Clint.

She grabbed the extra lights, tiptoed barefoot to the door, and slipped into the hallway like a cheerful burglar.

First target: Barton.

Evelyn crept into Clint's quarters, holding her breath as the door groaned with the kind of betrayal only old hinges knew. His room was dim and still, a heap of comforters and a man sprawled on the bed. His hearing aids sat neatly on the nightstand beside a half-empty mug of tea.

She spotted his bow tucked under his arm, cradled like a child's security blanket. She snorted softly. Of course.

Getting the bow without waking him was out of the question. Clint Barton had reflexes like a cat and poor sleep hygiene. Instead, Evelyn took a new route—decorative infiltration.

She plugged in the lights. Purple orbs blinked to life, casting a violet glow that bathed Clint's room in soft holiday magic. Inch by inch, she wrapped the twinkling string around his torso, looping it over his shoulder, around the bow, and down to his ankle.

A slight snore escaped him. Evelyn froze. He stirred but didn't wake. Evelyn backed away, heart hammering in triumph.

12:33am. There's still plenty of time to spread the cheer.

The second target was Thor.

The elevator chimed as she arrived on Thor's floor. She found his door slightly ajar, snoring like a freight train. The God of Thunder sprawled across the bed, arms flung wide like a Norse starfish. Mjolnir rested peacefully in the corner, untouched.

She tiptoed to the hammer, then crouched down and pulled out tubes of coloured frosting—red and green. Without a second thought, she decorated the mystical weapon with childish glee. A green tree with a red star, candy canes, snowflakes, and a little gingerbread man joined in sugary harmony.

It looked ridiculous. It was perfect.

Third and fourth targets: Tony and Eliza.

This one was easy and only required the help of J.A.R.V.I.S.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.?" Evelyn whispered. "You awake, bud? I need your help."

"I am fully operational, Miss Evelyn. What can I assist you with?"

She smirked. "Didn't I tell you to call me Mrs. Claus?"

A pause. "Of course, Mrs. Claus. My apologies."

"Much better. Alright—I need a few festive hacks."

"I'm listening."

"First, every time Tony opens his suit, Christmas music plays. Preferably loud."

"Understood."

"Second: I want Eliza's laptops to auto-play holiday songs on login, and every one of her backgrounds changed to something ridiculously Eliza and merry. Think gingerbread puppies. Or Santa smoking pot."

"Executing now."

"And where's the big tree? I want it up before sunrise."

"Main floor, storage room C. I'll unlock the door."

"You're the best, J.A.R.V."

She skipped off, heart light, as the tower clock blinked over to 1:30am.

Operation: Deck the Halls

The storage room was a treasure trove of forgotten cheer. Evelyn found the tree boxed up, tinsel stuffed into crates, ornaments wrapped.

She got to work with the music playing softly overhead (courtesy of J.A.R.V.I.S.). Branch by branch, light by light, the room transformed. Her hands flew with mission-speed efficiency, her heart thumping with festive adrenaline.

By 3:30 a.m., she was dangling upside down from a ladder, clutching the final ornament—a glittery red globe the size of a grapefruit. She perched it near the top, holding her breath... then stepped down slowly.

Something was missing... The topper.

Evelyn tore through boxes—no angel, no bow, no star.

She groaned. "Tony Stark, you own so much random shit, and you don't have a tree topper, of all things?"

Then her eyes flicked toward the elevator, and an idea sparked.

Moments later, she slipped back into her bedroom, pressed a kiss to Steve's temple, and unhooked his shield from the wall. The red, white, and blue gleamed under the twinkling lights. She slung it over her shoulder and returned to the tree.

The top still felt miles away. She climbed a side pillar, balancing precariously, and gently wedged the shield between sturdy branches. The lights wrapped around it like a ribbon around a gift.

Then she slipped.

A scream burst from her lips—but never met the floor. Strong arms caught her mid-air.

She was cradled against a solid chest, her heartbeat crashing in her ears. Slowly, she opened one eye.

Steve.

"You okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"I'm... fine," she mumbled, clinging to him like a koala. "This is why I need sleep."

"You think? What were you doing up there?"

"Tree-topper. We didn't have one. Your shield was the next best thing."

Steve sighed but couldn't stop a soft chuckle. "Only you."

"I had to make it festive. The Tower felt like a morgue."

"You could've asked for help."

"You were asleep."

He kissed her forehead, then her lips. "Thank you. It looks amazing."

Evelyn yawned. "I'll finish up, then sleep, promise."

She dragged herself to the last outlet, plugged in the final strand of lights, and flopped next to it, the warm bulbs glowing against her skin. "J.A.R.V.I.S., music up on every floor and every room."

The soft music of Bing Crosby filled the Tower.

Evelyn barely made it another five minutes. The lights cocooned her, her head resting on her arms, and sleep pulled her under.

6:00am.

"WHY THE HELL DID I WAKE UP TO CHRISTMAS MUSIC BLARING—" Tony's shout echoed through the room.

He stopped short.

The others followed in slow waves—Clint still wrapped in purple lights, Thor licking frosting off Mjolnir, Eliza holding her laptop like it betrayed her. Natasha leaned against the wall, amused but silent. Even Bruce arrived, arms crossed but smiling faintly.

In the centre of it all, Evelyn slept like the world's coziest grenade, limbs tangled in lights, a faint smile on her lips.

Steve stood by her side, arms crossed protectively. "She's been up all night decorating."

"She did all this?" Bruce asked.

Steve nodded. "Every decoration. Every bit of chaos."

"She messed with my bow," Clint said, impressed. "And I didn't even wake up."

"Look at Mjolnir!" Thor boomed with a laugh. "She drew a man on it!"

"It's a gingerbread man, Thor," Natasha told him.

"I like it," Bruce said. "She brought joy."

Steve smiled down at Evelyn. "She just loves you all."

Without another word, he bent down, scooped her up bridal-style, and returned to their room.

"Let her sleep," he said. "She earned it."

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        Evelyn stirred awake to the persistent feeling of something poking at her cheek. Her instincts kicked in before logic did. She shot upright in one fluid, well-practised motion, grabbed the offender by the arm, and flipped them onto their back with a soft thud and a startled yelp.

A familiar groan followed.

"Clint? Seriously?" Evelyn blinked the sleep from her eyes, recognising the tousled blond archer beneath her. She released him, and he sat up slowly, rubbing his shoulder with a half-smile. "You know better than to wake me like that."

Clint stretched his arms behind his head, his joints popping audibly. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered with a sheepish grin. "You've done that before. I should've learned by now."

Evelyn arched an eyebrow as her eyes trailed down to his torso. "I see you've finally unwrapped yourself from your bow."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Had to get Tasha to cut it off. You tied it like a damn sailor. Could barely breathe."

She shrugged, grinning. "I was excited. Sue me."

Clint's smirk widened. "So, why did you turn me into a human ragdoll today?"

Evelyn's expression shifted into alarm as his words clicked. "Wait—what time is it?"

"Past noon," Clint said nonchalantly. "You've been asleep for seven hours. Don't panic—"

Too late. Evelyn was already throwing off her covers and hopping into her slippers. "Seven hours?! I'm missing Christmas!"

Clint leaned back, arms behind his head. "Chillax. Nothing big has happened yet. We're all just hanging out."

"This is the biggest holiday of the year!" she called from her dresser as she slipped her phone into her pocket. "Besides Independence Day!"

Clint squinted. "Wait, why that one?"

She paused, shooting him a pointed look. "Because it's the Fourth of July. And it's Steve's birthday."

Clint burst out laughing. "No way. You mean to tell me that Captain America's birthday is on Independence Day? That's poetic. That's... perfect."

Evelyn grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the door. "Come on, it's Christmas. We have things to do!"

"We already admired all your decorations," Clint protested, though he didn't resist being led toward the elevator.

"And now we're going to bask in them some more," she said firmly. "J.A.R.V.I.S., take us to the living room!"

"Yes, Mrs. Claus," the AI responded cheerfully. As the elevator doors slid closed, a festive jingle filled the air.

Evelyn clapped her hands together in delight. "This is perfect. Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S.!"

"No problem, Mrs. Claus."

Russian curses hit them like a blast of cold air when the elevator doors opened. Evelyn's eyes widened.

"That sounds intense," Clint muttered.

They followed the sound into the kitchen and living room area. There stood Natasha, wielding a spatula like a weapon while barking orders at Steve and Sam. The two men scrambled around her, bumping into each other like disoriented puppies trying to follow her instructions.

As Evelyn stepped into the room, all three turned toward her.

"You're up!" Steve greeted her warmly, striding over to kiss her lips softly. "Merry Christmas."

She smiled into it, savouring the familiar warmth before he returned to the kitchen's chaos.

"Evelyn!" Thor's booming voice called from the couch. "Good to see you among the living!"

"Hey, Thor," she grinned, her heart whole from the cheerful atmosphere. She looked toward Sam. "When did you get here?"

"Couple hours ago," he answered with a wave.

Clint leaned in. "Since you did all the decorating, Nat decided they'd handle lunch as a thank-you."

Evelyn's eyes welled slightly, but she didn't let it show. "You guys didn't have to—"

"Shut up, Eve," Natasha said, pointing her spatula at her. "We're doing something for once. Sit. Relax."

Saluting playfully, Evelyn replied, "Yes, ma'am." She grabbed Clint by the arm and dragged him toward the couch where Tony, Bruce, Thor, and Eliza were camped out, watching Home Alone.

"Lovely of you to finally grace us with your presence, Evie," Tony said, not taking his eyes off the TV. "Thanks for getting J.A.R.V.I.S. to install Christmas music into my suits. Can't figure out how to turn it off now."

She smirked. "You'll survive. What are you up to now—Mark 666?"

"Ouch," Clint grinned as he vaulted over the back of the couch.

Tony rolled his eyes. "You're all so hilarious."

On the armchair, Eliza sat with her laptop on her knees, her brows furrowed as Christmas ads popped up on her screen.

"This goddamn music is haunting me," she muttered. "I've been getting nonstop holiday ads all day." A beat passed. Then she clicked something and smiled. "But I figured out how to block them. Still, thanks, Evie Poo."

Evelyn chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. "Anytime, Eli."

She leaned down to Bruce. "Merry Christmas, Bruce."

He looked up and smiled. "Merry Christmas, Evelyn."

They all watched the movie until Steve's voice rang out. "Lunch is ready!"

The group leapt from the couch like kids called for cake. They filed into the dining room and, as always, sat in their unofficially designated seats. Steve offered a short, heartfelt blessing, and then they dug into the modest but delicious meal—roast chicken and vegetables, simple but made with love.

Afterwards, they returned to the living room, laughter and full bellies making everything feel light.

"Present time!" Tony declared, his voice a giddy shout.

"Hell yeah!" Evelyn exclaimed, plopping next to Steve.

Natasha went first, handing out carefully wrapped gifts. Evelyn's eyes lit up at the sight of new throwing knives. The guys got shirts, and she had gotten Steve Life Alert. The room exploded in laughter.

Clint's gift was a shirt that read "Hawkeye's #1 Fan!" Evelyn rolled her eyes but thanked him with a hug.

Bruce gave her a Frozen mug. Tony: Captain America-themed lingerie. Thor: A plush Cap teddy bear. And Eliza, as she always did, gifted Evelyn a massive bag of weed.

Evelyn laughed. "You're too consistent, Eli."

Then, it was her turn. One by one, she handed out personalised presents. Clint got a mug that read "Legolas" and a stuffed Hawk teddy. Natasha received upgraded Widow Bites, new Bo staffs, and a black mug that read "I Survive Because I'm Scary." Sam was practically cackling when he pulled out a shirt that read "On Your right (Again)" and a massive box of gourmet donuts labelled "Falcon Fuel." Bruce got a fresh lab coat and a mug that turned green when hot with the words "Don't Make Me Hangry." Tony opened a high-tech toolset and a mug saying "Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, Barista." Thor was gifted a chain necklace with a tiny Mjolnir and a mug that said "Point Break." Eliza got her usual weed stash—cleverly disguised in a tin labelled "In Case Of Anxiety"—and a sparkly pink mug that read "Eli Poo: Chaos In a Cup." And Steve—well, Steve blushed the moment he opened his gift: American flag boxers, a mug that said "Star-Spangled Snack," and another that read "Property of Evelyn Parrish – Do Not Touch."

Everyone loved their gifts.

"Evelyn," Steve suddenly spoke, his voice trembling with emotion. Evelyn turned to him with a smile that slowly dropped at the fearful look in his eyes.

"Steve?" She asked uneasily.

His hand found hers, fingers lacing with practised ease—the kind of touch that felt like home, and he cleared his throat.

"From the moment I met you, something in me just... knew," he said. "You weren't just someone I loved—you were the one who made everything make sense. Through every mission, every loss, every moment I wanted to give up, you were there. Steady. Unshaken. You stood by me in the darkest moments, even when the world was burning around us.

"When I lost you on that train... I lost the part of me that knew how to keep going. I didn't just lose a teammate—I lost my heart. And waking up almost seventy years later in a world I didn't recognise, with everyone gone... I thought that was it. But then I found you again. Still you. Still strong."

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a velvet box, then dropped to one knee—not flashy, but with the kind of quiet reverence that made the room fall completely still. A silver ring glittered in the soft light, tiny diamonds winking up at her.

"I don't know how many lives we'll get or how much time this world will give us. But I know that I want to spend every one of those minutes I have left with you. In the calm, in the chaos. In the light and the dark. Evelyn Parrish—I love you, will you marry me?"

For a moment, Evelyn couldn't speak. Her throat tightened, and her heart felt like it might burst. But her answer was clear in her eyes before the words even left her lips.

"Yes," she whispered, then louder, steadier—stronger—"Yes. Of course, I will, Steve Rogers.

The room erupted into cheers as he slid the ring onto her finger. Natasha was filming with a proud grin. Clint and Sam were a sobbing mess. Tony was grinning. Eliza wiped her eyes while Bruce clapped gently, and Thor clapped and cheered thunderously.

Evelyn cradled Steve's face, kissing him gently, lovingly. Around them, their chaotic, mismatched family cheered and celebrated—but it was just the two of them at that moment—the soldier out of time and the former brainwashed HYDRA assassin.

Their second chance was here, and they were taking it together.

This moment, this joy—it would live in their hearts forever.