NOTES: I guess the best way to describe how this fic is going to work is "cute with consequences". However I promise it has a happy ending when you get there. :)

And Baby Makes Eight

- Part II -

Within forty-eight hours, Pippa is known to the staff at the hospital as 'the superhero baby', and there's a betting pool as to which one of the Avengers is the father. Maria doesn't tell Natasha that she's also in the nominations to be father – because of course a woman as martially skilled as Natasha must really be a man underneath.

"Nat probably already knows," Clint remarks, trying to get Pippa to follow his finger as Maria's stepmother confirms a few last things with the nurses. "Is there something wrong with her eyes?"

"Other than that she can't see a fly on a horse's ass at five miles? No. She won't be focusing on anything further away than a foot for another few weeks yet." Maria's not sure she'll have the energy to focus on anything more than Pippa for a couple of weeks yet. As it turns out, 'baby brain' is neither a metaphor or an excuse.

"Oh." He tucks his hands in his pockets and sticks his face in Pippa's. "Is this close enough?"

Pippa answers him by punching him in the cheekbone.

"She's got a good right hook on her - rather like her mom. Oh, and just so you know, Stark's trying to persuade Thor that he should be the baby's godparent."

"Over my dead body."

"Yeah, I figured that would be the case."

–

"You want to put a daycare on my helicarrier?"

"Sir, I want fewer people cooing over her as I work. I'll settle for a daycare on the helicarrier and a better work-life balance."

Nick raises his eyebrows at her as he jiggles a burbling baby in his arms. Pippa Hill is a cheerful, uncomplicated child, unlike her mother. "You had a work-life balance before, Lieutenant?"

–

Natasha has never considered herself maternal.

Which leaves her at a loss to explain why she detoured over to the 'nursery' to play with Pippa when she really should be up and reviewing the information on several multinationals that are working on supersoldier projects.

"There's something positively magnetic about her, isn't there?" Pepper says from the doorway. "I rarely have to ask JARVIS where Tony is anymore."

Natasha covers her expression, more out of instinct than because she doesn't trust Pepper. Pippa turns at the new voice and beams a gummy grin in Pepper's direction, still arching her back and practising straightening her knees as Natasha holds her around the waist.

Maria calls it 'planking'.

Whatever it is, Pippa does it every time someone tries to seat her in their lap. No sitting down for this child; she wants to be up and about, doing things, seeing people, learning about the world.

Rather like her mother, Natasha reflects. Maria hasn't let motherhood slow her down one bit, and some of the most entertaining moments of the last six months have come from the agents who thought that motherhood might soften 'Hardass Hill'.

"Maria says she's a shameless flirt. Always smiling for the guys."

"I'd say she knows which side her bread is buttered," Pepper said, putting her briefcase down against the coffee table before seating herself beside Natasha on the couch. "You're a clever one, aren't you?"

The gummy grin appears again, along with a little clutching hand that tries to reach for Pepper's necklace - a diamond that costs more than Maria makes in a month at S.H.I.E.L.D..

"No, Pippa." Pepper pulls open one of the wicker drawers in the base of the coffee table and drags out a plush Hulk toy. "Have a Hulk instead."

Pippa's expression makes it quite clear she knows she's being placated and she doesn't like it, but she takes the Hulk and starts gnawing on his hair.

"Such an uncomplicated life," Pepper says, smiling.

Natasha thinks of her own childhood in the Red Room – the endless hours of training and stress, the lessons, the punishments, the treatments... Not something she'd ever wish for Pippa, and definitely not something Maria would ever allow. Although when Pippa gets bigger, there's no reason she can't be taught some of the moves. A girl should always know how to defend herself, even if she never needs to use it.

"I wouldn't want her to have a complicated life."

"That's true," Pepper says after a moment's hesitation. Doubtless, she's thinking of her own background – a drunk father, an abused mother, a girl who refused to let old bruises decide her future, and a woman who held out against Tony Stark for the better part of ten years because, in spite of her past – or perhaps because of it, she knew she deserved better than the man Stark used to be.

Maria's own childhood was not exactly idyllic, either.

They're all the children of their parents. In Pippa's case this could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on the view one takes of motherhood.

Privately, Natasha thinks Maria's doing well.

Pippa tires of playing with the Hulk toy and tosses it away with a scream that should shatter eardrums. Then she resumes planking like her life depends on it.

"At least this one will never lack someone to spoil her." Natasha says. "Want to hold her?"

Pepper laughs as Pippa kicks out vigorously, annoyed at losing her platform for planking. "Sure. I've finished all my meetings for the day. Come to Aunt Pepper, sweetie."

Natasha hands Pippa over but doesn't get up, although she really should go and review those supersoldier projects. It's more fun to sit here and watch Pippa place her hands against Pepper's cheeks and grin mischievously as she squishes hard. Not a sight that any shareholder would ever imagine seeing: the inimitable Pepper Potts having her face squished by a six month old girl who's blowing a spit bubble with careless abandon.

"You know—" Pepper tilts her head back so Pippa can't reach her any more, and then has to catch Pippa's hand as the little opportunist goes for the diamond again. "I always forget that I need to take off all my jewellery before holding her. I don't get to hold her very often. Tony always seems to turn up and take her away – he says he doesn't want me getting clucky."

"And?"

Pepper laughs. "At my age? It's not likely. Not that I wouldn't—I mean it's not as though we've—" She takes a deep breath, and squares her shoulders. "Tony has parental issues, and so do I. So it's probably for the best. Although sometimes I think he just takes her away because he wants to hold her. No, Pippa," she says as Pippa tries once more to get the sparkly thing in her mouth. "No! Oh, God, look at that pout!"

But the tears are crocodile tears, and once Pippa realises they'll get her nowhere she sniffles and settles for the string of beads that Natasha uses to distract her attention, although the look she gives them is disgusted that they think she'd settle for mere plastic.

"She'll be a handful and a half when she's older. Remind me to make sure Tony doesn't get her a diamond for her first birthday. Or her eighth."

"Would he?" The instant Natasha asks the question, she knows Stark would – and wouldn't think twice about it. "Maria would probably just sell it and put it in a college education fund."

"Something else not to mention around Tony. Billionaire industrialist, Iron Man, has an ARC reactor instead of a heart, and goes gooey for a pair of big blue eyes and someone who pulls his beard."

"If it's any comfort I caught Fury making 'goo-goo' noises at Pippa in the helicarrier daycare the other day."

"Oh God, no, that's not comforting! Although..." Pepper glances towards the door and lowers her voice. "I found the Hulk holding Pippa the other day in Bruce's lab. She was asleep and he was just sitting and holding her, but..."

But the Hulk is not exactly the babysitter one wants for a six month old child.

Then again, Natasha reflects that an internationally known assassin is probably not anyone's first choice as the carer of a infant, either.

"I still can't decide if it's funny or terrifying," Pepper murmurs as Pippa beams through a mouthful of beads. "Earth's Mightiest Heroes wrapped around the pinkie of a six month old girl."

–

Maria waits until the initial fuss about the memorial has died down.

She puts in for leave, takes Pippa out of the daycare, and sends out a helicarrier-wide email that Pippa will not be in the daycare this afternoon. Last month, she made the mistake of leaving Pippa at home with her stepmom and youngest brother Paul for the day instead of bringing her in to work. The first fifteen minutes of her day was spent fielding emails from people who were worried that Pippa was sick or that Maria had, perhaps, just left her daughter on a street corner somewhere for baby collection.

"I told Fury not to assign any tails," she tells Pippa, who's fussing with the frilly knitted cap someone made for her. "We'll see if he complies."

Most people come to see the memorial sculpture, and the fountain is crowded with tourists taking photos of the Avengers as they stand over a snarling Chitauri. Nobody mentions Loki or his little performance in Berlin in these things anymore, because alien-looking aliens are okay to demonise, but photogenic sons of Asgard - however adopted or fallen - are sacrosanct.

Maria walks past the fountain to the roll of names - only a thousand or so, almost nothing when compared with 9/11 or with what could have happened if not for the Avengers.

"But even the Avengers can't save everyone," she murmurs into her daughter's downy-soft hair as she stands in front of the roll of names. "As both your daddy and your Uncle Phil are proof."

She doesn't waste time wondering what might have been if Pippa's father had lived. After all, it was only their second time together when the condom broke. Then he was killed when a Chitauri crashed in his office floor and knocked him out the thirty-second floor as he played possum, giving his colleagues time to get to the emergency stairs.

"He didn't have to be an Avenger to be a hero," she whispers to Pippa. "None of us do."

–

"She's looking at me. She's looking directly at me and smiling. Who's a clever girl?"

Across the grass, Clint exchanges a look of exasperation with Natasha, whose distinctive hair is today hidden under a dark wig. "Newsflash, Stark: she can't hear you."

–

Bruce settles into the sofa with his cola and watches the showdown. Iron Man vs. the Norse God of Thunder. Who will win?

"I'd have thought it was obvious," Tony says in unapologetic tones as he pours himself a drink. "She's trying to say 'Stark'."

"Da!"

"See?"

Thor's brow lowers, stern and imposing in a frown - or maybe it's a pout? "You are incorrect. It is quite clearly my name she is speaking. Say 'Thor', Pippa!"

"Da!"

"Aha—There! You see!" Thor brushes a finger past Pippa's cheek – a finger which she promptly grabs and tugs into her mouth. Or, more correctly, is allowed to tug into her mouth since Thor is, well, Thor.

"She's teething," Steve explains, still jiggling Pippa as she gums up Thor's finger. "Not giving your mom any time to sleep, either, are you?"

The doe-eyed look Pippa gives him suggests it's not only her right to make her mom's life hell, but her responsibility to do so.

"I'd ask how you know my sleeping patterns, Rogers," says Maria as she strides into the room, "but I don't think I want to know."

"You look tired and she's teething." Tony says, while Steve blushes all the way down his shirt collar. "Seems pretty obvious to me."

"Mama!" Pippa squeals, letting go of Thor's finger and leaning across Steve's arm with her arms outstretched towards her mom. "Mamamamamama!"

"Hey, baby. Ready to go home?"

"Da!"

"Maybe it's Russian," Bruce suggests at the same time as Tony says, "You could stay for dinner."

Thor, meanwhile, has the earlier discussion on his mind. "There is a debate as to whether she is referring to Stark or myself when she says 'Da'."

"She calls everything 'Da' right now." Maria sounds a little distracted as she watches Steve play 'swipe the nose' with her daughter. "But Natasha's begun speaking to her in Russian, so she might have picked it up. I can't stay for dinner, Stark, because I don't have any food for her here."

"In fact, Lieutenant, we have a selection of Miss Pippa's favourite foods in the common pantry," JARVIS announces. "I took the liberty of ordering some after the last time you were here."

"Da!" Pippa squeals, her hands lifted to the ceiling in delight. "Da! Da! Da! Da! Da!"

"I have specially catered for you, Miss Pippa," says JARVIS. "Dinner will not be a problem."

It should not be possible for an AI to sound fatuous or smug. JARVIS manages both. Tony glares up at the ceiling, Steve hastily hides a smile, and Thor looks flabbergasted.

Maria, on the other hand, looks mostly resigned to the insanity that is her life with a one year-old who has not only charmed the Avengers, but appears to have wrapped Tony Stark's AI's circuits around her little finger, too.

Bruce sits back on the couch and laughs until his sides ache.

tbc