"Tony, what the hell are you doing?" Bucky demanded, staring at Tony and wishing he were back in bed, where things made sense.

Tony was hovering at the top of a fifteen foot tall tree, the Iron Man boots the only part of his suit he was wearing, perching a five-point star with red, white, and blue lights, at the top. The whole tree was done up in Old Glory colors, with ornaments in patriotic colors, American flags, stars, and... were those Captain America ornaments?

"I'm decorating your tree," Tony said, wiring the tree star to the lights around the tree, the star lighting up. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Steve is going to fucking kill you," Bucky said, staring at the monstrosity. "When did you drag this in, and how did you slip drugs into my drink so I didn't wake up while you did it?"

"Spangles won't hit me," Tony assured him. "He likes me too much."

"Lucky for you," Bucky said. "But you didn't answer my question. How did you sneak this by me?"

Tony landed back on the ground. "I hope you don't really think I drugged you," he said, looking hurt. "I just had JARVIS run the air vent fan, muffle noises around your room. Probably sounded like nothing more than Cap wandering around out here."

"Yes, I noticed that, and the fact that JARVIS can deafen me like that makes me an unhappy mercenary, I hope you know that." Bucky sighed, then looked back at the tree. "Seriously, Steve is going to have your head on a platter for that."

Tony looked back over his shoulder at the tree. "What, he doesn't like Christmas?"

Bucky stared at him, giving him approximately point oh-three seconds to think real hard about what he just said, before he realized that Tony was being deliberately obtuse, and he wondered why it took that point oh-three seconds to realize that. "He loves Christmas. I don't think he's going to like the patriotic theme, though."

"Well, I could've gone with your color scheme, but black is monochrome and boring and kind of depressing for Christmas, if you ask me," Tony said. "Cap's was more colorful. And red and green have been done to death."

"There's something wrong with other co- wait." Something sank in about then. "They make black Christmas decorations now?"

Tony shrugged. "They make 'em in every color. Gotta please the goth and emo crowds."

Bucky stared at the tree, trying to picture a Christmas tree with black ornaments, and tinsel and lights. "I give up on modern society, for probably the twenty millionth time."

"Twenty-five millionth," Tony corrected. "JARVIS has been keeping count for me."

Bucky glanced up. "Is that true, JARVIS?"

"I cannot say anything to incriminate myself, Mister Barnes," JARVIS replied.

Bucky frowned. "You're not an American citizen, you don't get to plead the Fifth."

"But he can say something I programmed him to," Tony pointed out, walking towards the kitchen in Steve and Bucky's apartment that Tony had welcomed himself into. "Cup of coffee?"

"We don't keep coffee here," Bucky said. "Steve doesn't like it."

Tony stopped and stared at him. "No coffee? But how do you live? And what about you? Don't you like it?"

Bucky sighed, walking to the kitchen, passing by Tony. "Coffee is a false promise of a hit of energy," he said. "Caffeine does about as much for us as alcohol does." He opened the fridge. "We have orange juice."

"Close enough," Tony said. "You know, add a little vodka, you got yourself a good Screwdriver."

Bucky grabbed a couple glasses and poured them some orange juice. "Once again, with the complete lack of effect from alcohol," he said, handing over one glass to Tony before pouring his own.

Tony took a sip of his juice. "What, the flavor's not good enough? Don't you ever want to just taste it, even if it doesn't make with the floaty happy thing?"

Bucky didn't answer at first, taking a drink of his juice and putting the carton away. "Sometimes, but I can just go up to the penthouse if I want a glass," he said. He flashed Tony a smile he usually reserved for Steve when he was about to piss Steve off. "Why buy my own when you can buy some for me?"

That didn't elicit the expected result; instead of a scowl, Tony smiled, a smug smirk that Bucky instantly knew would precede words that Tony shouldn't be saying if he wanted to live. "Ah, finally, the prideful penny pinchers from the dark ages are accepting my generous offers."

Bucky gave him a flat look, deciding to take a drink of his juice before speaking and saying something incoherent. "It's not pride," he said, a bit defensively. "We were just raised differently, that's all."

"You were raised poor and prideful," Tony said.

"And you were raised rich and spoiled," Bucky said. "And I wasn't raised poor. My family didn't lose anything in the crash like everyone else. And I made a good living after I got out of college. It was Steve that was poor after '29."

Tony took another drink, looking like he was formulating a question that he couldn't ask with that juice in his mouth. He swallowed. "What happened with that?"

"His mother was saving money to send him to art school," Bucky said, grabbing the juice carton out of the fridge and pouring himself another glass. "She had everything in the bank. When the banks went under, she lost everything. And with her income, it had been hard to build that up in the first place, especially with treating Steve's health problems. My family never used the banks, we kept everything in cash, so we weren't really hurt too much."

Tony held his glass out for a refill. "What about you? What'd you do that had you living good after college?"

Bucky hesitated, not answering while he poured more juice into Tony's glass. "I worked as a weapon designer for Stark Industries," he said.

Tony stared at him, not moving and for the moment, not saying anything- hallelujah -before setting his glass down on the counter. "You worked for Stark Industries before the war."

Bucky put the juice away again. "Yeah. After the Howling Commandos unit was formed, I helped design some of the stuff we used that wasn't used by the rest of the Army." He made a point of not mentioning that the work he did was directly with Howard. Even though Tony didn't blame him for Howard's death, and at least acted like the fact that Bucky didn't confess to it before it hit the public wasn't as big of a deal as it actually probably was, Bucky didn't like bringing Tony's father up directly in his company. Too much chance for bad feelings to get stirred up again and cause a problem.

"You really were friends with him," Tony said.

Bucky should've expected Tony to do that, walk directly into what Bucky was trying to diplomatically avoid, because while Tony knew how to be diplomatic, that didn't mean he always was diplomatic. He liked bringing up the hard subjects sometimes.

At Bucky's awkward shrug and otherwise lack of response, Tony decided he just had to keep that subject going. "You know, he never really talked about that. He talked a lot about Cap, said he never met a better man. Annoying as hell to hear, growing up. Said a lot about you two as friends. Made me jealous that I never had a friend like that." He took a drink of his juice. "But he never said much about his own friendship with you guys."

Bucky decided that since the subject had been brought up, he might as well jump into it. "Howard didn't always think of things in terms of himself, beyond his work," he said. "He was charismatic, could work a crowd, loved flirting and socializing, but he had some problems actually relating on a personal level with people. He obviously got over them, he got married and had you, but back when I knew him, I never would've expected he'd ever get married and have a kid."

Tony snorted. "He didn't get over them as much as you think. I never really knew him, everything was about work, about what I could do, pushing me. I never really got the impression it was because he was proud of me as his kid. Wasn't until later that I found out that wasn't true." He got quiet, staring off just over Bucky's shoulder. "Guess you really don't always know a person."

Bucky was almost afraid to say something, to interrupt Tony's trip into the past, lest that past come up between them again. Tony wasn't the type to lose people easy, but he also wasn't always very forgiving, and Bucky wasn't always sure how to handle that particular subject at any given second. "He wasn't just that way with you," he finally said.

Tony frowned, staring at his half-empty glass of OJ. "Well, that's good to know," he said. "I like being special, but not like that." He looked up at Bucky, pointing at him with one finger, the rest of his hand still occupied with his glass. "I'm still mad at you for lying about it."

"I know," Bucky said, a bowling ball in his stomach, one fully deserved. "I figured I'd be making up for it for awhile. I tried to say sorry for it."

"Eh." Tony made an ambivalent noise. "You will. Just haven't decided how long you're going to be doing it for." He took a drink. "So tell me, you still any good with designing weapons? Draw me up some stuff, I can have them made for you. Give you something new to play with besides that stuff you got now."

"Haven't done it in awhile," Bucky said, grateful for the subject change. "I'd want to play around a bit, see if the creative brain cells still work."

"According to Cap, you're too creative for your own good," Tony said.

"Ha." Bucky set his empty glass in the sink. "He's just sore that my plans end in more destruction than his do. His don't work as well."

"The 'blow everything up and see what sticks' routine?" Tony said. "That doesn't sound terribly creative."

Bucky chuckled. "No, not quite. Steve's ideas tend to be 'let's go in the front door.' He usually has a good idea behind it, but it's frustrating sometimes." He frowned. "If you want to give me any new toys to play with, I wouldn't mind a new snipe. There's been a few times that would've been helpful. That's when I've had to get creative."

"Design me something," Tony said again. "You get toys when you give me a Christmas list." He handed over his empty glass. "Speaking of Christmas lists, what should I get Spangles this year? He's hard to buy for."

"Tell me about it," Bucky said, taking Tony's glass, which joined his in the sink. "He'll probably say that this place is gift enough, that having friends is gift enough, that Christmas shouldn't be about asking for things, blah blah blah. He's annoying that way."

Tony heaved a heart-felt sigh. "I guess you're no better?"

"Not really," Bucky said, not sorry at all. "I've never been big into getting gifts. Always preferred giving them. Which always made Steve unhappy, because I could give more than he could."

"And it's harder now, since you two are practically a married couple, complete with shared finances and household necessities," Tony said.

Bucky decided to not retort to the 'married couple' crack. "I'll tell you what you can get me, if you want."

Tony held out his hands. "Finally, someone wants something I can give them. I'm all ears."

"I want to see my brother for Christmas," Bucky said.

"I'll have him delivered to your apartment with a bow and bells," Tony said before Bucky could say anything more.

Bucky made a face. "You know, when he was a kid, that would've been funny, but he's a retired Navy lieutenant. That'd be past funny into weird territory."

"Navy? Your family is too patriotic."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "It's not patriotism, it's stupidity, and it runs rampant."

"Won't deny that, but I was counting Cap in that," Tony said. "So the stupidity is genetic, but what about him? What's his excuse?"

Bucky sighed. "He hates bullies, and decided that the Axis Powers were bullies. Dumb kid never ran away from their kind, even when it got his ass kicked."

"So it's stupidity," Tony said. "Can genetics be contagious?"

"Oh no, you're not shifting blame for him to my family," Bucky said. "He's Irish, the stupidity was innate in him before I met him."

"Speaking of our bonny lad, where'd he go? JARVIS just said he went out," Tony said.

Bucky glanced at the calendar, then at the clock. "To some local hospitals, see if any of them want him to come by to the children's wards in costume. It's something he likes to do for the kids." He frowned. "But with the whole 'my best friend is a psychotic killer' mess earlier this month, it's a question of if any hospitals would be willing to chance the wrath of the parents, not wanting that influence around their kids."

Tony made a thoughtful noise. "What about you?"

"Want some breakfast?" Bucky asked, ignoring the question for the moment, mostly because goddamnit, he was hungry and wanted to make food, and Tony hanging there, making conversation, was stopping Bucky from doing it politely.

Tony shook his head. "Already ate. But what about you? Doing any altruistic work this year?"

Once again, Bucky didn't answer, focused on finding something to eat. Tony was waiting patiently, like an obnoxious brother waiting for Bucky to give him something he wanted and wouldn't be deterred. Bucky continued to ignore him until he'd poured himself a bowl of cereal. "I doubt it," he finally said. "Again with the 'psychotic killer' thing. Public opinion probably isn't the greatest about me right now."

"It's not too bad," Tony said. "I've been keeping an eye on the news. Most people are on your side. Hydra bad, Howling Commandos good, Cap better, Cap likes the Winter Soldier, so he can't be too bad. You might accidentally get to go with Cap to those hospitals." Before Bucky could protest, mouth full of Froot Loops, Tony continued, "besides, trying to do something good might help win over the doubters."

Bucky sighed, swallowing. "Maybe. What about the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist? What day should we pick to hide here instead of going into the rest of the building where you might be hosting something?"

Tony pointed at him like a parent about to send a misbehaving child to their room to 'think about what they did'. "You're not hiding. And for your information, Stark Industries is hosting a charity ball, like we do every year, and yes, it'll be here, and yes, you're coming. You don't get to argue." He gave Bucky a stern look. "And I mean that, no arguments."

Bucky snapped his mouth closed, having opened it to argue. "Why?" That wasn't an argument in Bucky's mind.

"Because more celebrities showing up makes more other people with money show up and donate, and it all goes to a good cause. You can consider it your Christmas gift to me. I like having friends at parties."

The idea of a relatively painless gift to give to the man who had everything was winning Bucky over. "What charity?"

Tony looked hesitant. "Well, we usually give to children's charities, homeless charities, medical charities, things like that."

"And this year?"

Tony looked like he wanted that glass of juice to hide behind again. "The Humane Society."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, studying that reaction, then smothered a laugh. "Lemme guess, your princess got to your black little heart?"

Tony made a face at him. "You ruined me."

"And I am not sorry," Bucky said.

"You should be," Tony said. He looked back at the tree. "When's Cap supposed to be back, you know?"

Bucky eyed the tree. "Just have JARVIS let you know when he gets back," he said. "Because I have no idea. Depends on how many places he visits, and what sort of reactions he gets." He looked at Tony. "Relax, you'll get a chance to be killed by him for that thing."

"If he can catch me," Tony said, clanking one booted foot on the ground pointedly.

"You'd better hope he doesn't sprout wings and fly," Bucky said. "He just might."

Tony laughed. "If he can do that, I will let him kick me around."

"Don't tell him that," Bucky said. Then he sighed. "So how dressed up do we have to get for this dumb charity ball of yours?"

"Black tie affair, my friend," Tony said. "Don't worry, we'll get you something custom tailored. You won't have to go browsing."

"You're letting us pay for our own damn suits," Bucky said, finishing off his cereal.

"Yeah, suppose you have to pay for something of your own eventually," Tony said with his usual smartass smirk.

Bucky shot him a dirty look, rinsing his bowl and sticking it in the dishwasher. "When's the ball scheduled?"

"The nineteenth," Tony said.

Bucky glanced at the calendar again. "That's not a lot of time for a custom suit," he said.

"It's enough," Tony said. "Relax, the guy who does this on a regular basis knows what he's doing." He scowled, looking back towards the door again. "Okay, would you call Cap and tell him to get his ass back here? I worked hard on that tree, I will not be happy today until I get to run away from him."

"Eager to die?" Bucky asked, going to look for the cell phone.

"I'm a masochist," Tony said, following him, the boots clanking, even on thick carpet.

Bucky paused and looked back at him. "Would you take those dumb things off? You look ridiculous."

Tony shrugged, then waved his arm and walked out of the boots. "JARVIS, take those pieces home, would you?"

"Of course, sir," JARVIS replied, and the boots flew off, through the apartment door that JARVIS opened just in time, and then disappeared as the door shut again.

Bucky stared. "The individual pieces can fly on their own."

"Good observation" Tony said, taking a seat on the couch, studying the tree. "You expected anything less amazing from me?"

"I never expect anything but weird from you," Bucky said, finally locating the work cell phone. Tony says to get home. You'll want to kill him. He clicked send on the text, sending it to their regular phone, then set the cell phone down on the table. "I'm getting dressed. I'm not helping either of you in this fight in my sleep clothes."

Tony waved him off. "Yeah, you look frumpy. Go pretty up for my death."

Bucky shot him a glare. "I just don't want blood on my only set of winter pajamas," he said, then headed back for his bedroom.

"You need to go shopping if you only have one set!" Tony called after him.

Bucky made an apathetic noise in Tony's direction before going into his room and shutting the door. "JARVIS, what's the temperature in here?" he asked, looking through his closet.

"It's currently sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit," JARVIS replied. "Outside, it is thirty-eight. Might I suggest something warm?"

"Ooh, talk sarcasm to me," Bucky said, grabbing a shirt and pull-over sweater. "Your suggestion is duly noted." He changed quickly, debated briefly about pulling on socks, since his toes were cold, but since he hated the feeling of socks on carpet, he decided to just complain about it at Tony, instead.

"You got a text," Tony said, once Bucky had rejoined him in the living room. Tony paused, staring at Bucky. "You're wearing cargoes with a sweater."

Bucky looked down at himself. "It looks fine. And I like cargoes. They're more convenient than jeans." He went to his chair and sat down, grabbing the phone. "Besides, it's not like I'm going out on a date like this." He eyed the text. I'm on my way up. Tell Tony to start running, it said. He looked at Tony. "Sounds like he's already here. He says to start running."

Tony did not seem to have any inclination to move. "Good. JARVIS? How much time do I have?"

"About thirty seconds, sir," JARVIS replied.

Tony adjusted his position, crossing one leg over the other, arms resting on the back of the couch, looking like a man at peace with his impending death. He looked at Bucky. "Think he'll like it?"

Bucky gave him a tired look. "I already told you what he'll think of it."

Tony nodded once, looking back at the tree. Bucky was waiting patiently, counting the seconds, and while Tony looked like he was just admiring his handiwork, Bucky had a feeling he was keeping just as careful of a count.

Twenty-eight point four seconds later, the door opened. Bucky glanced over to see Steve round the corner from the entryway, and stop. And stare. And slowly look down at Tony.

Tony looked back over his shoulder at him. "Welcome home! Like the tree?"

Bucky counted off ten more seconds before Steve showed any reaction, his reaction being to introduce his forehead to the palm of his hand. "Tony? A patriotic Christmas tree?"

"What? It's in your colors," Tony said. "It matches your eyes." He motioned to Bucky. "His colors were too depressing to work with."

"Whatever happened to red and green?" Steve demanded, walking over to the tree and studying some of the ornaments. "And where the hell did you find Captain America ornaments?"

"Those were not actually hard to find," Tony said. "And red and green is overdone. I wanted something that was uniquely you."

"You could've gone with Ireland's colors," Bucky said, completely unhelpfully.

Steve flashed him a dirty look. "Don't you start, you filthy colonist."

"Dirty immigrant."

"Gentlemen, please," Tony said, cutting in. "It's Christmas. Good will and all that. We'll talk immigration reform and the ethics of colonization of the Americas later. We'll do that at the New Year. Ring it in with an argument."

"Is that how you always ring in the new year?" Steve asked.

Tony looked thoughtful. "Well, no, I'm usually in bed with a beautiful woman, but since I'll have most of the Avengers here this year, I think I'll do that after a party."

"Most?" Steve turned away from the tree to face Tony and Bucky more.

"Well, Thor was going to spend the holidays with his girlfriend over in London, but she's out on research, something came up, so he's staying out here." He took a deep breath. "We still don't know where Natasha and Clint are."

Bucky looked down at the ground, then at his feet, which were still cold, and crossed his legs underneath him to warm them. Natasha had disappeared just after he and Steve had left Nebraska, and Bucky had a feeling it was to join Clint out in the Middle East, but without having been able to understand their conversation, he couldn't be sure. They just knew that Natasha took off after Steve and Bucky were safely at Fort Meade and their equipment was in CIA hands.

"No word from Homeland?" Steve asked.

Tony gave Steve an incredulous look. "You say that like they'd hand over that information willingly."

"I wasn't talking willingly, Tony," Steve said.

"Fair enough." Tony tapped a finger on the back of the couch where his hand was still resting. "No, nothing from any of the other agencies, either. I think they dropped off the government's radar. Found some trouble that Homeland didn't actually want them in."

Steve looked away, out the window. "Which means they could be anywhere. They could need our help."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, and we're supposed to give it to them how? We don't even know where they are. Believe me, Spangles, I'm looking. I have all my resources on it. Some you don't even know about. Either we'll find them dead, or they'll come out of hiding when they can. And knowing them? They'll probably show up on Christmas morning, just to say that Santa and his reindeer dropped them off."

Steve looked back at the tree, and Bucky could see his brain turning corners to a safer subject. "You expect me to keep this thing, don't you?" he asked, pointing to the tree.

Tony looked offended. "What, you wouldn't want to keep my hard work, my gift to a friend? I'm insulted, Captain."

"Only you could make a prank into a genuine gift," Steve said, aggravated.

"Probably the other way around," Bucky said.

"Both ways," Steve said, correcting them both.

Tony looked smug. "And thus, my brilliance shines."

In the name of keeping Tony from ego-stroking further, Bucky made the conversation take another left turn. "So what'd the hospitals say?" he asked Steve.

Steve looked momentarily confused, then caught up with the direction Bucky had gone. "They mostly all seemed welcoming. Couple asked about you."

"What'd you tell them?" Bucky asked, already suspecting that at least one had said 'kiss off' at the idea of the Winter Soldier showing up around a bunch of kids.

Steve shrugged. "Told them it was up to you. One outright asked me not to bring you. I told them I wouldn't be showing up, either."

Bucky gave him an annoyed look. "Steve, that's not fair to the kids." Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Bucky walked right over that. "Don't worry about a bunch of mooks hurting my feelings. Those kids are sick and dying, you shouldn't disappoint them. I'm a grown man, I can handle the criticism of a bunch of adults whose panties are soiled."

Tony snorted, laughing through his nose. Steve shot him a 'shut your mouth' look for about one whole second before Tony managed to stop laughing enough to say something. "I could always buy the hospital, kick out the old curmudgeons."

"Is that your answer to everything?" Steve demanded. "Throw around money?"

"And the weight of my name," Tony said. "Which I know you have done yourself."

Steve went quiet in that way that said he couldn't deny the allegations, but didn't really want to confess to them, either.

"Besides," Tony continued. "I have so much of it, why not? Better than buying myself another Audi, right?"

Steve sighed. "You're not buying the hospital, Tony," he said. "I'll deal with them."

"Play nice, Steve," Bucky said. "Don't make me come with you to put a muzzle on you."

"So you're coming with?"

"No," Bucky said. "I don't want any parents suing the hospitals for letting a known assassin near their children. I might do something else, but not something so high-profile."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "And how do you plan on hiding your profile from the high places? You've been all over the news for the past three weeks."

Bucky hadn't considered that. "Dunno. I just want to do something."

"Then do something high-profile," Tony said. "I told you, being visible with charity work will help win over the naysayers. And helping your reputation will help Cap's. You two still work together, your reputations hinge on each other's."

Bucky sunk in his seat, looking at Steve for help.

Steve shrugged. "He makes a point, Bucky," he said, not being helpful at all.

"I'll think about it," Bucky said. "And that's all you're getting from me, so don't push."

"Not pushing," Tony said. "Hey, got any more of that orange juice?"

Bucky motioned behind him to the kitchen. "Go help yourself." He paused as Tony got up. "And that's not an invitation to just take the carton."

"Spoil sport."