I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.
The next morning dawned bright and sunny, and it was another ray of sunshine that awoke Thor. Despite the late night, he felt well rested and was ready to begin his day.
Once he had showered and dressed himself, he made a move to exit the suite, but came to a pause in the room's doorway when he heard a soft voice coming from the penthouse. Curious, Thor followed the sound until he came to the living room.
Seated on the sofa was Natasha Romanoff.
The redheaded woman was leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and a phone pressed to her ear. Her gaze was turned downward on the open file sitting on the coffee table in front of her, but as soon as the demigod had appeared in the doorway, her eyes were on him. She offered a small smile when Thor greeted her with a bright grin.
As she went on with her phone call, Thor stepped lightly into the kitchen to find that JARVIS—or Natasha—had already brewed a pot of coffee.
He was sitting at the table, carefully thumbing a reply to a text message from his Lady Jane, when Natasha walked in a few minutes later. "Good morning, friend," he greeted her as he looked up from his half-completed message.
"Good morning," she returned as she made her way to the coffee machine on the counter.
His eyes followed her movements, looking for any sign of pain or weariness. "How do you fare today? Agent Coulson made mention that you, the Captain, and the Hawk were in peril."
"Nothing we couldn't handle," she replied, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "We wrapped up the mission late last night. Coulson said he was supposed to send JARVIS a message about our status, but considering how late it was, we decided I could come tell you myself."
Thor watched her as she stirred some sugar into her drink. "And your status?" he asked, since her body language gave nothing away.
The spoon in her hand didn't pause in rhythm as she glanced back over at him, something alight in her eyes. "We're all fine, Thor," she reassured him. "Nothing a few layers of clothes won't hide for a while, anyway. Those guards were trained how to shoot, not on how to fight in hand-to-hand combat."
There was a lull in the conversation as she carried her coffee to the table and sat down across from the demigod. "Clint and Steve are finishing up their debriefings today," she went on. "I did mine early this morning."
Thor felt his brow furrow. "Then have you not rested?" he asked.
"It was a long plane ride back," she answered with a minute shrug. She took a sip of her coffee before she let her intense gaze lock on him, her hands easily wrapped around the warm ceramic of the mug. "How are things here?" she asked.
Even with the assassin scrutinizing him, Thor smiled. "Things went well yesterday with the young doctor," he replied. "He has opened up a great deal since he was changed."
Natasha continued to watch him for a moment longer, like she didn't quite believe him. "You two got along?" she pressed. "Coulson was worried."
"Aye, we got along," Thor affirmed. "It was not immediate, but our friendship is amicable once more. The little one… He is easily frightened and incredibly shy, but he is a wonderful child. Stark and Lady Pepper both proclaim that he is opening up more and more with each passing day."
There was a moment of silence between them in which Natasha simply stared at him. "So," she began after another hushed moment, "there shouldn't be any reason for him to dislike me from the start." When a look of confusion appeared on the Asgardian's features, she went on. "I'm not exactly the best with children, so I need whatever advantages this situation is going to offer me."
Thor looked thoughtful. "Did you not ask for a child's assistance when you first met the good doctor?"
Natasha scoffed quietly. "That was business," she dismissed, looking away. "This…"
"…is not," Thor finished for her.
After a moment of scrutinizing her coffee, she met his gaze. "Right," she replied.
"You need not worry," Thor reassured her once another brief moment of silence had settled between them. "He was terrified by my presence when we were reintroduced. We are now close—perhaps closer than the good doctor and I ever were. I feel you two will be fast friends, so long as you do not threaten him with bodily harm, but you are too honorable to ever do such a thing."
"There is no honor among assassins," she replied steadily.
"But there is among friends," Thor rejoined with a smile that seemed to warm the room. When no immediate answer came from the woman sitting across from him, the demigod returned his attention to the message he was typing on his phone. "You have been putting off interacting with him, correct?" he went on after he sent the message.
He looked up in time to see a tiny smile touch her lips, but it looked forced. "I'm not good with children," she said again.
"You handled the boy well aboard the helicarrier after he had awoken," Thor pointed out. Before she could cut in with a comment on that, he continued. "Perhaps it goes without saying, but the young doctor is mature for his age. In many aspects, he is very much a child, but there is something aged about him that I have yet to see in the other Midgardian children I have come across thus far."
The silence that fell between them was interrupted by a soft noise from Thor's phone. Natasha hid her smile behind a sip of coffee. "Dr. Foster?" she asked.
"Aye," Thor replied with what was probably a sappy smile. "She detected a cosmic interference two nights ago and knew that I had returned from Asgard. She had assumed I was here for a battle, so when no such news made itself known to the Midgardian public, she desired to know if all was well."
Natasha eyed him for a long moment. "Would you like to go visit with her?" she asked.
"Very much so," Thor answered as he read Jane's response, "but I am needed here."
"I can handle things here," she said. When Thor glanced up from his phone, she continued. "Clint is going to try to get here by this evening, and Cap has a few more things to take care of before he can swing by. I think we can manage while you go visit with Dr. Foster."
Thor studied her for a heartbeat. "Can you manage until evening time?" he asked. When she turned a sharp look back at him, he raised his hands. "I mean no ill will against you, but you just…seem rather reluctant."
"I am perfectly capable of handling a four year old boy," Natasha replied smoothly, her tone just the slightest bit belittling.
"I have no doubt of your capabilities, Lady Widow," Thor assured her, "but I desire that your day together is spent comfortably and happily." He paused to smile. "He is a delightful child, and our day yesterday was most enjoyable. I feel the two of you could really get along, given the opportunity."
Natasha returned his smile with a tiny one of her own, but it was the type he would see when she was working, meant to be more placating and appear genuine, but Thor had learned the difference. "We can discuss this with Bruce when he gets up," she replied, effectively ending the conversation.
They did not have to wait long. Much to Thor's surprise, Bruce walked into the kitchen just after seven in the morning. He had assumed the boy would have slept later, considering the nightmare that had shaken the child awake and nearly caused him to transform.
The kid looked a little tired, but he smiled when he saw Thor sitting alone at the table.
Thor grinned at the boy. "Good morning, little one," he greeted the child heartily.
"Good—" It was then that Bruce noticed Natasha, standing at the counter and fixing a second cup of coffee. His smile fell away and he froze to the spot, eyes glued to her. He didn't look scared, per say, just startled and mildly anxious. "…morning," Bruce finished softly.
Thor glanced over at the counter to see that Natasha was returning the boy's stare with a mild gaze of her own. "Bruce," he began as he glanced back at the child, "you remember Lady Natasha, yes?"
Bruce slowly nodded without looking away from the woman. "You flew me and Tony here," he said.
Natasha smiled. "That's right," she replied. "And we talked a little on the phone a few days ago."
"Is everyone okay?" Bruce asked, suddenly looking distressed. "Mr. Coulson said he would send a message to JARVIS, but…"
The redhead held her hands up to calm the child down. "Everyone is fine," she soothed. "Coulson just found out how we were really early this morning; he didn't want to wake you or Thor up."
Thor watched the boy's eyes scrutinize Natasha, probably looking for bruises or any other telltale sign that she was hurt. "…so you're okay?" he asked quietly. "Clint and Steve are okay?"
"We're all okay," Natasha confirmed. "Clint will even be coming by later tonight, and Steve should be here sometime tomorrow. You can see for yourself then."
Thor felt himself smile as Bruce seemed to instantly perk up at the mention of more visitors.
Natasha must have noticed that the boy had relaxed, for a small smile touched her lips. This time—Thor was pleased to see—it was a genuine smile. "But it'll probably just be you and me until Clint gets here," she continued. When Bruce gave her a confused look, her eyes cut to Thor. "His girlfriend found out he's back on the planet," she explained.
As Bruce glanced at him, Thor smiled and gestured to his cell phone, sitting on the table. "Aye, it is true," he said before he looked back at the boy. "And though she would indeed like to see me, I am certain she will understand that I am needed here."
Bruce peered hesitantly over at where Natasha was still standing before his eyes returned to Thor. "If, um…" A tiny smile started to sneak onto his face. "If Lady Natasha doesn't mind staying here—"
"You do not need to call me Lady Natasha, Bruce," the redhead cut in, completely deadpan, which immediately made both Bruce and Thor grin.
Bruce looked back at Thor, still smiling, and continued. "If Natasha doesn't mind staying here, you can go see your girlfriend."
Thor studied the child for a long moment. "It is a tempting offer," he admitted slowly. His eyes drifted to his fellow Avenger, who was taking a sip of her coffee. "Have you any qualms with this plan?"
"You already know my answer to that," Natasha replied as she set her coffee cup back down upon the counter, not even bothering to look at him.
Thor chuckled. "Fair enough," he said. He turned his gaze back to Bruce. "And have you any qualms with staying with Lady Natasha for the day?" he asked with a wink as Bruce grinned again.
The boy glanced back up at Natasha, his grin melting away into a shy little smile. "If you don't mind," he said to the woman.
Another one of Natasha's small smiles appeared. "I don't mind at all, Bruce," she said.
Thor beamed. "Then it is a plan," he declared. "Thank you both dearly, friends. Lady Jane will be most pleased." He reached for his phone. "I shall let her know presently."
While Thor was carefully typing out a message on the tiny keypad, Natasha looked back at Bruce. "While he's busy with that," she began, "are you hungry?"
"Ah, yes," Thor jumped back into the conversation, looking up from his phone with a brilliant smile, "let us break our fasts together."
As a trio, they sat at the table and ate together. Between bites, they discussed everything that Bruce had done thus far in his time at the tower. The boy seemed a bit shy at first, stealing quick glances at the redhead, but he relaxed fairly quickly. Thor had a feeling that Natasha's seemingly genuine interest in the child's answers had something to do with it, as well as her gender. Even without Stark's informative phone call the other night, in which he listed items of conversation to avoid while with Bruce, it was not that difficult to see that the child was more inclined to close up around men.
Once they had finished and the table had been cleaned and the dishes had been washed, it was time to head out. "Now, are you positive that you two will be well?" Thor asked a final time, just to be sure. Given the reluctance Natasha had shown before Bruce had awoken, and the child's caution in most new things, he wanted to be positive before he left.
Natasha rolled her eyes. "We'll be fine," she said again. "Right, Bruce?"
The boy, who was standing at her side, nodded in agreement. "We'll be okay," he confirmed as he looked up at Thor, a small, reassuring smile on his face. "Have fun with Miss Jane."
"And you have fun with La—" A dark look from the assassin made him bite his tongue, and he fought to hide his grin. "With Natasha," he amended. As a wide smile crossed the child's face, Thor knelt down and opened his arms. It sent happiness shooting through him when Bruce did not hesitate for the slightest moment before he rushed into the embrace.
As Thor pulled the tiny body more firmly against him, the demigod grinned brightly. "I shall try to return two days hence," he declared.
"Steve and Clint should be here by then," Natasha offered from where she still stood, eyeing them both closely. "Maybe the five of us can go out and do something."
"Then it shall surely be a spectacle to behold," Thor said with a conspiring grin, and Bruce laughed softly. He gave the child one last squeeze before they moved apart.
Once he was upright once more, Thor gave Natasha's shoulder a friendly pat—it had taken months for any of them aside from Clint to engage in a physical display of camaraderie with the Widow.
It had taken Dr. Banner even longer.
"I thank you both again, friends," Thor said, looking between the two of them with a warm smile. "Please enjoy the company of one another."
Natasha and Bruce stood side by side, eyes raised to the sky as they watched Thor fly off with Mjölnir in hand. It was still fairly early in the morning, so the temperature was mildly chilly, especially out on the balcony several stories above the street.
Once Thor had vanished from sight, Natasha felt the child's eyes drift toward her. She would never let it show in her face, but she felt at a loss as to what they should do. She hadn't been lying that morning to Thor; she really wasn't good with children. On missions, she could manipulate just about anyone, children included. On a mission, this would be the part where she bribed the child with rupee banknotes to lead her target to the edge of town and slip out the window to safety.
But this was completely different from any mission she had ever been on. This was a teammate and friend, not some unknown kid. This was a whole new experience, one of which she wasn't entirely sure how to approach.
The only information she had to go off of was the woefully incomplete file on Dr. Banner, which did not contain information from before the age of eight, when his mother had been brutally murdered at the hands of Brian Banner. Everything else came from the stories she had heard from Tony, Steve, and Clint, along with what Thor had told her that morning. She had always been a good judge of character—it was what she was trained for—but Dr. Banner had always been tough. He played everything so close to his chest and it had taken him months before he started to open up to the team. In those first few months as a team, she was honestly surprised to see that he had stayed in Manhattan and had not disappeared back into a third world country. It had been expected by everyone.
But if there was one thing that both she and Dr. Banner had learned over the course of time, it was that they could trust this team. So she could trust what the others said about this little boy now standing next to her, that he was brilliant and skittish, that he still housed the Hulk, and that he was—she had heard repeatedly—a good kid.
Natasha looked down at Bruce, meeting the boy's gaze. "What would you like to do today?" she asked.
Bruce glanced away and instead looked out over the Manhattan skyline. "Um…" he began softly. "I'm not really sure."
The others had also mentioned that the kid wasn't fond of making decisions.
"Well," Natasha began, drawing the boy's eyes back up to her, "Clint mentioned wanting to cook dinner tonight, so we can run out and pick up what he needs."
She watched the boy's eyes light up. "Do you think he'll want help with cooking?" Bruce asked, his words filled with eagerness and promise.
Something that Clint had said replayed in her head, about how the little Bruce had thoroughly enjoyed working in the kitchen with him. Even during the phone call they had had with both Bruce and Tony on Sunday had shown her just how much the boy enjoyed helping out with preparing meals.
An idea popped into her head on how to take care of lunch that afternoon, and she felt a small smile touch her lips. She returned her focus to Bruce. "I think he would love your help," she replied, which brought a happy smile to the kid's face.
There was a market a few blocks away from the tower, probably a twenty minute walk. After Bruce had disappeared to go put on his shoes, they found themselves walking through the Stark Industries lobby toward the front door.
Before they even reached the door, Natasha saw Bruce hesitantly reach for her hand. She felt herself tense fractionally, but it was enough for the child to notice.
Bruce drew his hand back as if it had been scalded and his eyes went to the floor. "Sorry," he said in a low mumble.
Natasha cursed herself.
Hardly a heartbeat later, she reached down and carefully slipped the boy's hand into hers. Bruce glanced at their connected hands before he slowly peeked up at her face, uncertainty and a hint of rejection in his expression. She felt terrible for putting that look on his face.
"I haven't spent a lot of time with kids," Natasha explained in a low voice once the boy had met her eyes. "Will you let me know when I'm doing something wrong?"
"You didn't do anything wrong," Bruce said quickly, like he wanted nothing more than to reassure her. His eyes drifted back to their hands. "I, um…I should have asked first."
"Don't blame yourself for my mistakes, Bruce." The child's eyes shot straight back to her, and Natasha offered a small smile. "I can't be expected to learn if I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
The two of them stared at each other for a moment, paused in the busy lobby of Stark Industries HQ. After another moment, a tiny smile appeared and Bruce's gaze drifted back to their hands. "Okay," he said softly, but the word was heavy with relief.
Natasha felt herself mentally relax, and she gave the child's hand a brief squeeze before they stepped out of the building and onto the streets of Manhattan.
The city was bustling with people crowding the sidewalks. Bruce stayed close to her as people came up out of the subways to rush off to work or whatever else it was they were doing on a Thursday morning.
It was a relief when they arrived at the market. The inside was much less crowded than the streets in front of the store, and she could feel Bruce release a great breath once they were away from the mob of people. It would seem that Dr. Banner's distaste for large groups of people had dated back before his accident.
Natasha grabbed a small shopping basket and slung the handles over her forearm before she looked down at Bruce. "Ready?"
The boy nodded, and they ventured into the store. Clint had written down a list, and when he had given it to her, it had come with the world's most pitiful puppy dog eyes. He had grinned in triumph when she had slipped the piece of paper into a pocket with nothing more than an eye-roll. The list was fairly straightforward; chicken breasts, Italian breadcrumbs, eggs. The next item on the list steered them toward the produce department.
"What kind of vegetable would you like tonight?" she asked the boy standing next to her. "Clint didn't specify," she commented, eyeing his messily scrawled and a vegetable, i guess.
"Um…" Bruce glanced up at the signs that hung from each area they passed, since he wasn't tall enough to actually look at what was being showcased in the bins.
Since he hadn't pushed the responsibility of the decision back to her, Natasha remained silent to let Bruce choose. They slowly made a round around the vegetables, where she picked up a bag of baby spinach. They stopped at the green beans and she taught Bruce how to pick the best beans.
They continued through the store, picking up large tortillas, a bag of pre-shredded cheese, and a jar of alfredo sauce.
On their way back up to the registers at the front of the store, they passed through an arts and crafts aisle, where she paused. Bruce glanced up at her before he followed her gaze to the different kits that lined the shelves.
"How would you feel about trying one of these today, Bruce?" Natasha asked, stealing a quick look down at the boy to see if he was interested. Sure enough, the child's eyes were taking in the different kits with care.
After another moment of scrutiny, Bruce looked back up at her. "They're expensive," he said. "You don't have to."
"What if I want to?" Natasha asked him. She returned her eyes to the different kits as Bruce looked away. "I haven't even heard of half of these things." When she glanced back down, she saw that Bruce was looking closely at a certain box. "Find one you like?" she asked.
Bruce hesitated for a moment, but then he slowly pointed to one box in particular. "That looks pretty cool," he admitted in a low voice. "But it says ages eight and up."
Natasha knelt down until she was level with the kit the boy had pointed out. It was a kit to make decorative bowls from beads that, once put into the oven for a certain amount of time, would melt and harden into a stained glass mosaic of color.
"We can round up," she said at last as she grabbed two boxes of the kit, tucking them under her other arm as she stood back up.
Bruce gave her an odd look. "Four doesn't round up to eight," he pointed out, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
"I won't tell if you won't," she rejoined smoothly as she started to continue toward the register, easily biting back a smile as Bruce scurried to catch up to her. Once Bruce's hand had gripped the side of the basket, since her hands were full, Natasha smiled down at the boy. "Besides, this calls for the use of the oven, which I will obviously be supervising. I think our ages combined exceed eight."
"I don't think that's how it works," Bruce replied, but he was grinning and his eyes were bright.
They made it up to the register and only had to wait in line for maybe four minutes before it was their turn. Their items were packed into two paper bags that would survive the trip back to the tower. They walked back to the tower together, a bag in each of Natasha's hands and one on Bruce's clutching to the paper handle with Natasha's.
By the time everything was safely put away in the penthouse, it was roughly nine thirty in the morning, still early and a long way away from when Clint was supposed to arrive. The pair sat down together at the kitchen table to look more closely at the instructions from the kits.
"We ought to be able to make eight bowls with these two boxes," Natasha said as she pulled two aluminum pie pans from the first box. As she was pulling the contents out of the other box, Bruce studied the back of the empty box. Before long, they had four pie pans lined up in front of them, along with two bags of purple, dark pink, light pink, yellow, and blue beads. The instructions were set off to the side, along with two strips of flimsy silver-lined cardboard that would serve as the stencil in shaping the bowls.
They both took a moment to just look over everything before they dove into the project, like neither of them knew how to proceed. "So," Natasha began slowly after another beat of silence, "we're just supposed to make designs?" She had just sat back down at the table after she had turned on the oven to preheat. The directions had said to put the pie pans onto a cookie sheet wrapped in aluminum foil, so the designs wouldn't be ruined when transferred to the sheets.
"I think so," Bruce said, studying the empty pie pan in front of him like he was trying to picture a potential design. A small smile touched his lips and he reached for the dark pink crystals.
Natasha watched as Bruce poured out the crystals into the pie dish, starting with a spiral of dark pink in the center before moving in straight lines out toward the edges of the pan. When he reached for the yellow beads next, Natasha felt herself smile knowingly. The dark pink was the closest they had to red, and the yellow may as well have been gold; it only figured that the boy would do something in the Iron Man colors first.
As Bruce filled in the missing areas with the yellow, Natasha reached for the light pink beads and carefully poured a design of arrows along the edges of the dish, pointing in a pattern toward the center and then away from the center. She filled a majority of the remaining space with the purple beads, but she dotted some blue throughout the edges before mixing the blue beads into the purple that sat at the center of the dish.
She felt Bruce lean closer to her to look into her dish, and she felt herself smile when Bruce grinned. "Is that for Clint?" he asked.
"It certainly is," she answered. She nodded toward his completed dish. "That's for Tony?"
Bruce's grin widened as he nodded. "It's a gift."
"That's very thoughtful of you," she replied with a warming smile. "I'm glad you two are getting along."
"Tony's super nice," Bruce said as he watched her continue to mess with the design for Clint. "I'm very lucky to be staying here with him and Pepper. Everyone else is super nice, too. It's…it's nice."
When Natasha glanced his way, there was a tranquil little smile on the child's face, but the redhead couldn't help but think that the boy found the change in atmosphere to be refreshing. It had to be drastically different, coming from the life he had grown up with to suddenly find himself surrounded by people who all cared for him and who treated him with kindness. Maybe if Dr. Banner had been changed into a boy that was just a little older, he would have found the kindness and care suspicious, but the four year old seemed to treasure it once he opened himself up to accept it.
The oven beeped, bringing them both out of their thoughts and back to the present. The oven was preheated, and they were ready to begin baking their projects. Natasha smiled over at Bruce. "Ready to see if this works?" she asked.
The boy grinned and nodded. "Yes," he replied.
After carefully nestling the two cookie sheets into the oven to bake for fifteen to twenty minutes, they began working with the next two pie dishes. The next ones they did were for Pepper and Thor, Bruce making the former and Natasha handling the latter. Pepper's design had yellow in the center, which would make the bottom of the bowl yellow. The edges included all of the other colors, each streak of color matching nicely with the color next to it and with a few beads of other colors dotting the very edges of the dish.
"Pepper has a lot of colorful paintings in her office," Bruce explained when Natasha asked him about the design. "Me and Tony got her a postcard when we went to the zoo of a sunset, which she really liked. I think this would look pretty on her desk."
"I'm sure it would," Natasha agreed.
Bruce smiled, and then asked her about the bowl she was making. She had poured some yellow beads into the shape of a lightning bolt, surrounded in a circle of blue that would make the base of the bowl. Circling around the edges were a collection of stripes in a rainbow pattern, starting with the lightest around the base and ending with a stripe of purple skirting the edge of the pie pan.
"Did Thor tell you about the Bifrost?" Natasha asked when Bruce looked at the design with curiosity. The boy shook his head, and she went on. "I haven't seen it myself, but Thor describes it as a sort of rainbow bridge."
"Lightning and rainbows, then," Bruce said with a content smile. "Thor will like that."
"I certainly hope so," she replied, returning his smile.
Before they had finished their second designs, the timer went off. As Natasha pulled the first cookie sheet from the oven, she held it low for the both of them to look at it. The dark pink and yellow crystals had melted down beautifully into a circle of stained glass. They both oooh-ed at the dish before she set it up onto the stovetop to cool. The next one—the one Natasha had made for Clint—also came out nicely. The pink arrows hadn't lost their shape and easily melded with the purple surrounding them.
"Alright, we just need to give it some time to cool before we can shape them into bowls," Natasha announced, smiling down at Bruce.
The kid looked excited. "They're going to be so cool," he said, grinning brightly up at her.
By the time they had finished up the designs for Pepper and Thor, the first two projects were cool enough to slide from the pie pans. Together, they carefully got the silver cardboard pieces fixed into a cylinder shape and wrapped aluminum foil around the tops of each. They carefully laid the two circles of stained glass atop both, lining them up with precision so the bowls would come out just right. Back into the oven they went for another five or so minutes.
They sat together on the floor in front of the oven, watching as the edges of the stained glass plates slowly started to dip downward, creating the shape of a bowl. As they watched, Natasha started asking Bruce a few questions about all that he had done while in the tower, and the boy was happy to tell her. She got to hear about the breakfast he had with Thor the day before, and she even cracked a grin when he told her about when Thor had approached a total stranger to ask for a page in the newspaper.
As he was describing how cool it was to see Mjölnir fly on its own, the timer on the oven went off again. They stood up and Natasha carefully pulled the two bowls out from the oven. "How about that," the redhead said with an impressed smile, surprised the craft had truly worked.
Bruce beamed as he looked at both bowls, keeping his distance to avoid the hot items. "They're beautiful," he replied, sounding awed. His smile brightened as he grinned up at Natasha. "I hope they like them."
"I know they will," Natasha replied, returning his smile with one of her own as she set the cookie sheet back on top of the stovetop to let the bowls cool.
After she had popped Pepper and Thor's pie dishes into the oven to bake, they took the previously used dishes and began to create the third batch of bowls.
"This one's for Steve," Bruce told her when she peeked at his project. There was a yellow star in the center of the dish, surrounded by a circle of blue crystals. From the two rings of dark pink and light pink circling the center, it wasn't that hard to see that the child was attempting to make an American flag design with the limited color choices.
Natasha felt herself smirk. "Look how similar ours are," she said, motioning for Bruce to look at hers. Instead of a yellow star surrounded by blue, hers was a light pink. Where Bruce's bowl would have horizontal stripes, hers had vertical stripes, all leading to the thin ring of purple at the very edge of the dish.
Bruce quirked his head. "Is this for Steve, too?" he asked.
"It's for Coulson," she replied with satisfaction.
The child looked up at her. "Is Mr. Coulson super patriotic, too?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"In a way," she answered enigmatically. When the boy peered back at the dish, still looking confused, she took pity on him. "Mr. Coulson is a big fan of Captain America," she explained to him. "He grew up with the comic books, the trading cards. Imagine his extreme pleasure in finally getting to meet the guy."
"Steve has comic books and trading cards?" Bruce asked, peering back up at her.
The soldier had informed both her and Clint that the boy was now familiar with a bit of his history, that he knew that Steve was from the 1940s. "Even before Captain America disappeared," Natasha began, "he was an icon of the American way. There were war movies, comic books, you name it. When he did disappear, his popularity boomed. Mr. Coulson grew up around the legend of Cap; he was a superhero, and kids look up to figures like that." She grinned a little bit. "So when Mr. Coulson finally got to meet his hero, it was like a dream come true. I've never seen the man so flustered."
Bruce smiled and glanced down at her project again. "Why's the star pink?" he asked, but his smile was widening like he already knew the answer.
Natasha turned a secretive little smirk over at the boy. "For love," she answered, making Bruce giggle.
Pepper's and Thor's designs came out of the oven a few minutes later, already looking gorgeous, and as they were set aside to cool, Natasha deemed the first bowls cool enough to now touch. She knelt down so that they could examine the two finished bowls together, head-to-head and still wowed that they had actually come out looking like bowls. It was the first time Natasha had partaken in any sort of arts & crafts project, and considering how equally amazed Bruce was, she could tell it was his first time doing something like this, too.
They chatted without aim as the finished up the third set of bowls and began on the final pair. As they worked, they both purposely didn't ask the other about their current project. She knew that the last of the dark pink was gone, since Bruce had asked if she needed it for her dish. When she had declined, the boy had smiled radiantly and used up the last of those crystals. They were running low on the yellow, but they shared what little was left between them.
When the dishes for Steve and Phil were pulled from the oven, now in bowl shape, their final designs were complete. It seemed like an unspoken decision had been struck up between them to not look too closely at the designs for the final projects, so Natasha was sure to not give Bruce's pie dish any mind as she slipped the cookie sheet into the oven. Bruce was equally sure to look away as her dish made it safely into the oven. The timer was set, and all they had now to do was wait.
As they sat back down at the kitchen table to wait, Natasha noticed that it was nearly 11:30. It seemed like the time had passed in the blink of an eye, and she was surprised that the time had slipped away from her. And to think, she had been worried earlier that morning in how they would spend the day together. It seemed to all be running so smoothly.
There was really no getting around turning a blind eye to each other's designs when they needed to get the cooled stained glass plates onto the mold to create the bowls. Natasha brought the cookie sheet and the two pie dishes down to the floor so Bruce could see, too.
The design Bruce had made featured a dark pink hourglass in the center of dish. The circle that surrounded it was a mixture of purple and blue beads. From the circle, vertical stripes of colors reached toward the edge of the pan, which was lined with a mixture of all the different colors until it had all melted into a tie-dye.
Without realizing it, a warm smile had found its way onto Natasha's face.
"Your code-name is Widow, right?" Bruce asked hesitantly, looking down at the design that Natasha was still staring at. When she glanced up, she saw that there was an element of nervousness in the kid's expression.
"It is." At the earnest response, Bruce peeked up at her face. Once he saw the smile on her lips, the boy relaxed and smiled back. "Thank you, Bruce," she said softly, sliding the plate of glass out of the dish and onto the mold. "It's beautiful."
The boy ducked his head to hide his bashful little smile, and Natasha took the opportunity to set the design she did on the floor for him to look at.
She smiled at his surprised little intake of air.
The stained glass in the pie pan was a mixture of blues and purples, but dotted throughout the design were little circles of colors, like stars in the night sky. Something she had learned about the boy's adult counterpart was that he enjoyed looking at the stars. It had been a mission she, Clint, and Dr. Banner had been on in the middle of nowhere in Canada. The archer was off doing recon for the night, leaving her and Dr. Banner alone at their campsite. Their relationship by that point had been improving since the Invasion that had brought the team together, but it was still developing.
As they had sat there, waiting for word from Clint about what was going on at the compound he was staked out at, Bruce had started naming stars and constellations. One of the things he missed about life on the run, he had told her, was that he almost always had a nice view of the stars. Life in Manhattan was a huge step up, but with all of the light pollution, he was lucky if he could make out a constellation past the orange glow that seemed to radiate from the city after the sun went down.
Sitting there with the physicist in the Canadian wilderness, listening to him tell the stories about the constellations or go off on a tangent on the different types of stars that made up Orion, it was fascinating to listen to him.
It had stuck with her.
"Do you like it?" Natasha asked softly, looking at the boy.
"It's…" Bruce trailed off to gingerly run a finger along the smooth surface, tracing one of the light pink stars against the purple background. "It's gorgeous," he breathed. When his eyes shifted up to her face, there was a brilliant smile on his face.
Natasha smiled and reached over to lightly ruffle his hair before she slid the plate of stained glass onto the mold. After she had put the cookie sheet back into the oven, they sat down on the floor to watch the plates turn into bowls. They sat side-by-side, closer than they had been sitting previously.
"So you like stars?" Natasha asked without drawing her eyes away from the window into the oven.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Bruce nod. "Momma got me a book on stars for my birthday," he said in a soft voice. "We don't get to go out a lot, but we've found a few of the constellations from the book in the sky."
"That sounds fun," Natasha replied, thinking back to her own experience with Bruce under the stars.
She didn't have to be looking at him to know he grinned. "It is," he agreed.
A handful of minutes later, their bowls were taken out of the oven and set on the stovetop to cool off. The other six were lined up along the kitchen table, glinting in the late morning sun. A few more minutes after that, once the final two bowls had cooled, all eight sat as a complete collection together.
The two of them looked over their handiwork, marveling over each individual bowl. "I'm surprised they came out this well," Natasha remarked, twisting Pepper's bowl around in a slow circle to watch the light refract through the glass.
"Me too," Bruce agreed, looking closely at the lines of arrows that circled Clint's bowl. "I don't think I've ever done something like this before."
"Me neither," the redhead admitted. She set the bowl down and glanced over at Bruce. "I bet Steve would have had a field day with this."
Bruce cracked a grin. "I think you're right," he agreed again. He put Clint's bowl back and picked up the one that Natasha made for him, holding it reverently like it was one of the most precious things he had ever seen. The thought did something to the woman's chest.
"Thank you so much," the boy said in a soft, but happy voice. He smiled back up at her. "This is so nice."
Natasha felt herself smile again. "You are very welcome, Bruce," she replied. "I'm glad you had fun doing this." She paused to carefully pick up the bowl he had made for her, eyes going over the hourglass shape at the bottom of the bowl. "And thank you for such a beautiful bowl."
Together, they cleared off the table and tossed out the empty kit boxes so just the completed bowls sat atop the surface.
It was just about noon when they finished. "Are you getting hungry?" Natasha asked once Bruce had settled at the table again. She was still standing at the kitchen island, where she was tossing out the pie dishes.
When Bruce gave a nod, Natasha smiled. "I've got something fun in mind," she said. "Do you like spinach?"
The boy looked off in contemplation. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't think I've ever had it before."
"I think you'll like this," Natasha replied. "I actually learned this recipe from Pepper."
"Can I help?" Bruce asked, looking eager.
"Absolutely," the redhead answered, and she bit back a smile as Bruce grinned and slid down from his seat to move to her side.
Natasha grabbed the tortillas and the jar of alfredo sauce they had picked up at the store that morning before pulling the spinach and shredded cheese from the refrigerator. "We're going to make pizza."
The look the child gave her almost made her laugh. "Pizza?" he asked, sounding puzzled.
"Yep," Natasha answered simply as she laid out one of the tortillas onto a clean cookie sheet.
She walked the boy through spreading a layer of the alfredo sauce on the tortilla, and together, they laid out a layer of spinach. Once the alfredo sauce was adequately hidden beneath the leafy vegetable, they topped everything with the shredded cheese.
"Pepper taught you this?" Bruce asked as they began adding another layer of freshly rinsed spinach.
"She did," Natasha replied. "She made it on a whim one day a few months back. It's actually quite good."
They finished adding the layer of spinach and a fresh layer of cheese. By that point, the oven had preheated to the proper temperature and Natasha slipped the cookie sheet into the oven. "And now," Natasha said as she closed the oven door, "we just need to wait until the cheese melts and starts to brown."
"That's it?" Bruce asked, peeking in through the oven door.
"That's it," she confirmed. "It's super easy to make, and it makes for a light lunch."
They cleaned off the counter and put each of the food items away. Natasha gave Bruce some silverware and napkins to set on the table with while she went about getting them drinks. By the time the table was set and two glasses of water were sitting next to each plate, the pizza was ready.
She cut the tortilla pizza into slices and slipped a piece onto each plate before she cut one of those slices into smaller pieces.
The boy made a happily surprised sound around his first bite, which brought a smile to Natasha's face. "This is good!" Bruce said once he had swallowed.
Natasha finished chewing her own bite before replying. "Well, I'll give you one thing; you certainly don't seem to have a problem with vegetables."
Bruce grinned. "Momma says that, too."
They ate in a companionable silence, and it was only as they were reaching the end of their second slices that Natasha spoke up again. "So what would you like to do next?" she asked the boy.
"Um…" Bruce looked down at his plate, a thoughtful expression on his young face. An idea must have hit him, for a smile touched his lips and he glanced back at her. "Pepper mentioned that you like doing jigsaw puzzles."
He trailed off, as if he was waiting for a confirmation or negation of that statement. Natasha smiled. "Would you like to do a puzzle?" she asked. "I have some pretty tough ones in the closet."
Bruce beamed, and the decision was settled. Once they had finished their lunch and had everything cleaned up and put away, they perused the small collection of puzzles Natasha had amassed since Stark had opened his tower up to the team. The one they ended up selecting was of a collection of bottle caps, all different shapes and sizes and colors. It was a 1000 piece puzzle, and would be sure to keep them busy for hours.
And so, they settled back at the kitchen table, sitting side by side as they sorted through the pieces to find the edges. At the far end of the table, safely out of the way, the eight stained glass bowls remained, glittering in the afternoon sunlight.
A/N: The arts & crafts project Natasha and Bruce did was a Makit & Bakit Decorative Bowl Kit. My little sister had one of these when she was a kid.
I swear, I'm not sure I can go a chapter without them either making or eating some kind of food. I'm not sure what that says about me.
I hope you enjoyed the early update (it's only a day early, but it's still early). Thank you so much for reading!