100 Marvel One Shots✔️

Patience & Ignorance >> Happy Hogan X Reader

Muttering an expletive, fall back into the desk chair with a groan.

He pushes a mug of something strong before you, and one in his hand too. "You should be glad you didn't work for Stark when he was starting this whole thing." He tells you, taking a long sip of his coffee. You consider your mug, and even though it's late on a Wednesday afternoon early in December, you take down it all, like a shot. "It was a shit-show from day one. I mean, who the hell does this for a living?"

You smile, but don't mean it.

Happy means you both by the last part, not the man you work for. It's crazy – one day you were working for the New York Bulletin, chasing people for stories, and the next there were people in spandex and aliens in the sky, and you were given a job to work with them. And to fend of the people you used to work for. You loved the job, you truly did. It was just the rough spots you hated.

"To us," you toast grimly to Happy, fingers poised above the keys, starting to type something monotonous to get the story-chasers off your back. "The idiots stupid enough to love the job, and stupid enough not to leave."

By the time that statement you handed in runs, it's nearing the time where it gets unbearable. Christmas lights, everywhere. Kids screaming when you're just running errands around the city like it's your paygrade or something. Crime rates skyrocketing, so the team you're supposed to micromanage is off on tangents trying to save Christmas or something. At least the bakery you like stocks the gingerbread you practically live off, otherwise, you'd almost consider handing in effective notice of resignation and use your savings to live somewhere like rural Australia where nobody lived nearby for miles.

People ignore you when you're downtown. It's nice. You're never ignored when you're in the compound – it's always _________ this, _________ that, _________, please make sure that this diplomat gets a thank you note from us, _________ ... like it never ended. Downtown, you're just another woman wearing all-black, holding a stack of presents and a fake Christmas tree on the subway because it was always your duty to clean out the dead thing when January came around. You're just hey, lady! to a stranger, not _________, super nanny.

But as soon as you're off the train, being picked up at the station by Happy, it's over. Back to buckling down, back to business. At least he helps you put all the parcels you're holding in the car, and getting in to drive off, he doesn't ask about your day. Doesn't talk about what it's going to be like, getting back to the facility. Doesn't turn on the radio to blast some popstar's new-and-improved Christmas carols.

It's quiet. Nice.

Pulling into the garage, you're aided by Wanda Maximoff, and Vision. They're both wearing ugly sweaters, and they both volunteer to help take in the parcels inside. You should have guessed they were just there to make you unaware of the ambush inside. Tony Stark hands you a camera, and to Happy, a length of green and red tinsel.

"_________, we need you! Just a couple of –," Tony says, dashing around. The team all wearing terrible lumpy sweaters, from Commander Rhodes in his wheelchair, Steve Rogers and Mr. Barnes wearing matching Christmas hats, to Natasha Romanov. They all stand before the window, with the view outside behind them, "Scott, I need you – perfect."

You look down the camera, and take the pictures. They need them on Christmas cards to be sent around to the friends and family of the team as soon as you can. Before you can take off to your desk to prepare the new task, though, the Parker kid stops you with a web, and taking the camera from you, gets Happy to stand beside you. You're not sure what he's up to, but you go along with it. The team get out from the shot. Vision takes the tinsel from Happy, and he and Wanda drape it around both of your shoulders.