Bruce was sitting in the Avenger's kitchen, taking a sip of the coffee he had just made, when Brielle wandered in, her face lighting up when she saw him. "You slept in, Uncle Bruce!" she announced, skipping over so she could climb into his lap. He helped her, chuckling at the little girl who reminded him so much of her parents. She was the perfect mixture of Pepper and Tony, and he loved her as if she was his own.

"And you're up early," he countered, amused as she dug her fingers into his cereal and took some for herself. Even though he wouldn't let anyone else take his food—which meant Tony, because his best friend was the only one who would dare do that—Brielle was one-hundred-percent allowed to eat off his food.

Shaking her head as she shoved a Cheerio into her mouth, she replied, "Am not! It's ten o'clock, and Mommy says I normally wake up at nine-thirty." He glanced over at the clock, smiling to himself as he observed that it was eight-thirty, not ten. She probably felt like it was ten, and said that instead of asking Pepper what time it actually was. He'd have to teach her how to read a clock.

But, instead of pointing out this fact, he said, "Okay fine, you win the award for sleeping in the most. How's that sound?"

Brielle pondered it for a minute, cocking her head to the side, before announcing, "That's a stupid thing to give an award for." He snorted, playing with her long hair as she gobbled down Cheerios.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. There was only the sound of crunching and occasional sipping, Brielle doing the eating and Bruce doing the drinking. It was a peaceful morning, and neither of them really wanted to move.

But, when she was done eating, Brielle spun around on Bruce's lap so she could face him, a Cheshire-cat grin splitting her face. Oh no, the girl was up to something. It was the same grin that Tony would get before deciding three o'clock in the morning was a brilliant time to blow stuff up, with a little bit of Pepper's innocent-mischievousness mixed in. Brielle might be the perfect mixture of Stark and Potts, but she also was a perfect combination of their mischief. Whenever she was up to something, it usually wouldn't end well.

Smirking at her, he asked, "Brie-Brie, what's that face for?"

"What face?" she asked, pretending as if that was her natural face. "I'm not making a face!" But, she definitely was; that grin was still there.

"Quit it, you!" he teased, tickling her under the chin until she giggled hysterically. "You're up to something, and I can tell it!"

"Quiiit, Uncle Bruce," she whined, squirming until he stopped. Looking back at up at him with that look on her face, she told him, "Guess why I slept in."

"Hmm…" Bruce said, thinking for a moment. There were a lot of reasons why Brielle might sleep in. She might have been extra tired, but he didn't think that was the case—after all, she seemed really hyper, and she was up earlier than she thought. "Are there no good shows on today?" he asked, because that only seemed logical.

"Nope!" she spat, grinning that fiendish grin of hers. "Guess again!"

"Umm… Your Mommy didn't wake you up?"

She flipped her head back and forth, a very obvious no. "Mommy never wakes me up."

Honestly, there were hundreds of reasons why Brielle could be up at a different time than normal. Figuring none of the obvious ones were the answer, he announced, "I give up Brie-Brie! You're just going to have to tell me!"

"Fine!" she said, giggling. "I was up late thinking and talking to Daddy, so I slept in to make up for it!"

He'd been right; he wouldn't have guessed that. The little girl must've come in after he went to bed, because he hadn't seen her. If she had been there, he would've known.

"What were you talking to your dad about?" he asked, his fingers playing with her hair. He didn't know what it was about her hair, but it was so addictive to play with it. Everyone did it; he even caught Clint braiding it once.

Even though he hadn't believed it to be possible, her smirk widened, taking up her whole face. Oh no, what was she up to? "I talked to him about you and him," she answered, shifting to her knees so she could play with his hair. "About why you're always staring deeply into each other's eyes."

Oh god no. She hadn't… no, how had she seen it? Bruce had been trying so hard to keep all of his overwhelming Tony emotions restrained and not let them slip, but yet the four-year-old had noticed them. She had noticed his emotions, but couldn't read a clock. They had to be obvious.

Several years ago, the rumbling he felt in the back of his mind from pure panic would've set the Other Guy loose. He would've rippled through his veins, taken over his body, and killed little Brielle. Mentally thanking Tony for working with him on controlling the Other Guy, he kept himself stiff and closed his eyes. He was going to be just fine. He just had to… breathe.

"Uncle Bruce?" she asked, playing with his hair and sounding concerned. "Are you and the Hulk alright?"

"Y-yeah," he breathed out, letting his eyes slide open. He saw concern in her wide, dark brown eyes—oh god, the same shade as Tony's—and said, "I'm fine, Brie-Brie. I'm… Does Tony- I mean, does your dad know about how I feel?"

Hesitantly, she nodded, saying, "I told him last night. He… Uncle Bruce?"

Bruce didn't know whether she said his name because he was panicking or because she wanted his permission to continue, but he didn't hesitate in asking, "Yeah?"

She began to tumble out words, babbling, "Daddy loves you, and loves you even though he's married to Mommy, but Mommy is okay with you guys being in love and stuff. And I think you should be together, because he always stares into your eyes and you always stare into his and you're always staring and I couldn't be mad because it's really cute and I'd love to have you as another daddy." She was panting by the conclusion, having already run out of breath.

Bruce was blinking back tears when Brielle said she'd want to have him as a dad, and that she wasn't mad at him. "You'd want me as a dad, Brie-Brie?" he asked, his voice trembling. He'd want nothing more than to be Brielle's father. She was adorable—albeit mischievous—and already felt like his child. The thought of him being her dad… it was too much. Especially if that meant Tony would have to divorce Pepper.

But, as the little one said, "Of course," and he opened his mouth to say something—he wasn't quite sure what he would've said—Pepper's voice came from the other room, calling out Brielle's name. "I've gotta go," Brielle said, quickly giving Bruce a kiss on the cheek. "I think it's supposed to be bath time." He couldn't even manage to choke out a bye before she was gone.

Now he was alone in the kitchen, alone with his thoughts. Tony knew Bruce loved him. Tony knew Bruce loved him, and loved him too. That… The thought was almost impossible to Bruce.

But, he had never known Brielle to lie to him.

Standing to his quaky feet, he realized that now—not later, not never—was the time to find out if what the child said was true.