I'm back! I dunno how I feel about this chapter but I knew it was coming in the story and I wanted to get it out. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Seven: I Love You and You Are Mine

It was all going much too smoothly, really. Natasha would muse later that it was a wonder her honed paranoia hadn't kicked in before this point.

Paperwork was proceeding the way it had for a while: slow but steady. Which was frustrating, but at least they weren't running into any issues.

And then, a government official called.

Natasha was grateful they had called Bruce's cell. As calm as she could be under pressure, she wasn't sure her impressive façade could have maintained itself.

When he hung up, there was an odd expression on his face.

"Well?!" Natasha pressed. "What's the news? Good? Bad?"

Bruce slowly pushed his phone into his pocket. "They found the stepmother."

For a moment, Natasha blanked. And then it clicked.

"The stepmother…" she repeated slowly. "The suka."

Bruce sighed and tried not to smile. "Yeah, her. The one who has to sign over custody. And also grandparents."

Natasha gave him a sharp look. "Neither of them has ever mentioned grandparents."

"I know. Funny that they should come out of the woodwork now, with some rich Americans sniffing around."

"Hilarious." Natasha muttered dryly. "What grandparents?"

"Apparently the father's parents. They want to meet us."

"Did they sound willing to hand over custody?"

Bruce sighed. "I don't know. The official didn't tell me much beyond that they found them and they wanted to meet with us. And see Shanta and Anish. I know, I know…" he added, seeing Natasha's face, "But we should bring them. At the very least to show that we haven't absconded with them. That we're the ones acting in good faith."

"We should probably dress them well, too…"

"Oh, of course!" Bruce looked slightly mischievous. Just slightly. "Best clothes, let Shanta bring that Anna doll…show them we can provide, and well."

"I don't think the kids are going to be very pleased about this." Natasha said wearily.

"No…me neither. But these are their relations, or at least the grandparents are. They have the right to at least know Shanta and Anish are alright and taken care of."

"And not a damn thing more." Natasha muttered; teeth clenched.

"Nat…you know as well as I do that family situations can be complicated here…"

Natasha shook her head. "I can understand sending your kid to an orphanage, so they have a chance for regular meals and schooling. What I can't understand is treating a kid terribly just because they aren't yours by blood or aren't compliant enough. Or not being involved at all. Anish doesn't talk much, but I can read between the lines."

"I can as well. So we'll just have to be careful. We go in, make nice for an hour or so, and with any luck they'll sign over custody rights."

Natasha sighed. "Fingers crossed…"

Shanta tugged at the bottom of her pink kurta. Anish bumped her shoulder.

"Phida nā!" he hissed. "Don't be scared! Auntie and Uncle are here."

Shanta whimpered. "But stepmother's eyes are scary."

Anish swallowed, trying not to hold on to any worries of his own. "I know…but you've got to be brave! Can you be a brave girl for me?"

Shanta grabbed his hand and nodded. "I-I'll try…"

"Good."

Bruce scanned the room nervously. He hated government buildings of any sort. Even SHIELD (especially SHIELD) facilities gave him the creeps.

Natasha took his hand. "It'll be alright." She whispered.

"Weren't you the one that was so worried?"

Natasha smirked. "I'm playing the game, now. A little schmoozing, a little cool and collected, and we'll be fine."

A woman in a well-fitting sari entered the room, followed by a thinner woman with a sullen face, and an older couple with eyes like predators on the prowl.

Bruce could feel Anish pressing closer and heard Shanta start to whimper. He took her hand and winked at Anish reassuringly.

As they walked closer, the younger woman launched herself toward the children.

"Shanta! Anish! My darlings!" she shrieked. "How you have worried your poor mother's heart these many months!"

Natasha bit her lip to keep from laughing. "What, is she auditioning for the next Bollywood movie?"

A quick look at Bruce confirmed that he was thinking along the same lines.

Anish flinched back but nodded coolly. "Stepmother. It is good to see you again."

Shanta waved shyly and ducked behind Bruce.

The woman frowned, clearly not expecting such a greeting. "Why, darlings, what's this? No hug for your mother?"

"Stepmother." Anish corrected.

Bruce cleared his throat lightly and addressed the government worker, who seemed to be steeling herself for an hour or so of drama.

"Ma'am, perhaps some introductions are in order."

She gave him a grateful look. "My name is Lakshmi Karmakar. I'm here on behalf of the family of these two children. They have been in the custody of you and your partner for…how long?"

Bruce had to think. "Uh…two months, at least. A-almost three0."

Natasha nodded.

"Ah, very well! At your inquiries, we have managed to track down the remaining family, to see if an agreement about custody rights can be established."

The entire time, the older couple had remained quiet, but Natasha had been observing them well enough to know that they were not simply zoned out of the conversation. They were, in fact, observing her and Bruce just as much, and making hushed comments to each other in Bengali.

"Americans…very well-dressed."

"Probably wealthy."

"Perhaps we can…"

Natasha shut her eyes to keep from rolling them.

Suspicions peaked. And now…

"Anish…" she hissed.

Anish glanced up immediately.

"Did you ever stay with your grandparents?"

Anish shook his head slightly. "…they never gave Baba money. Or help."

Suspicions confirmed.

She glanced at Bruce and gently took his hand. They had agreed beforehand that this would signify "these people are after our money".

The grandfather glanced at Lakshmi and said something in Bengali. Lakshmi's forehead creased.

"He says that he is happy to find his grandchildren safe, but that he would prefer they return home."

Bruce glanced at Shanta and Anish, both of whom looked very wary. He looked back at Lakshmi. "Will you translate?"

Natasha gave him a look, but he merely shrugged.

Better to be cautious and let the native speaker handle it. Besides, they don't need to know I speak Bengali.

"I will."

"Then tell him, 'no offense, but they don't seem to want to go with you'."

With the smallest of gleams in her eye, Lakshmi repeated the statement in Bengali.

The old man gave Shanta and Anish a withering look. Their grandmother let loose several pleading sentences in Bengali.

"She is asking them to come back…saying they are all they have to remind them of their dead son…." Lakshmi translated.

Natasha had been very quiet for most of the exchange. But now she chose to break her silence.

"Sir." she began, in rather good Bengali, "With all due respect, your grandchildren are not statues to put on a shelf. They are children. Can you provide for them? School fees, clothing, food…you are prepared to give them all this?"

Upon hearing the foreign woman speaking their language, all three adults had a sudden look of mild horror.

The stepmother, ironically, was the first to recover her wits.

"Are you suggesting that we are incapable of giving Shanta and Anish what they need to live? I worked every day so that they could have only the best, after their father's unfortunate accident…"

"You didn't do anything!"

Anish's high, angry tone cut through his stepmother's whining.

"You told me to get a job, had Shanta pretend to have a broken arm so she could beg and look more pathetic! You did nothing for us! The day we left Baligari was the best day of my life!"

"Ungrateful boy!"

In one, fluid motion, Natasha stepped between Anish and the angry, now-flailing woman. She looked her in the eye.

"I would choose your next move very, very carefully." She said mildly.

Her tone was light, but the look in her eyes was like fire.

Bruce glanced at Lakshmi. "As you can see…"

Lakshmi nodded. "I can see much. But we still need to reach an agreement."

The grandmother finally piped up. "Kind, generous sir…there is no need for all this fighting. If the children want to stay with you, then perhaps they should."

Her husband looked at her in sudden fury, which quickly abated as she kept speaking.

"But, you surely would not leave us destitute…with no grandchildren, there is no one to support us in our old age…and they were quite often sick, especially Shanta…"

Bruce sighed.

I was afraid of this…

"Yes, it's quite true." Their grandfather added. "Poor Shanta caught so many coughs and colds…and medicine is expensive. We did whatever was necessary, but at such a cost…"

Now it was Bruce shutting his eyes to keep from rolling them.

He looked at Natasha and raised an eyebrow.

Natasha gave a slow nod. They'd made an emergency plan, in case something like this happened.

"Very well." Bruce said. "If we provide you with some compensation, will you sign over custody rights?"

The grandparents nodded. But the stepmother leaned forward and took Shanta's hand.

"Couldn't Shanta stay with me? She was such a help in the house…so polite and well-mannered. You can keep the boy."

Natasha clenched her jaw in fury. Shanta whimpered and tried to get out of her stepmother's grip.

"No." Bruce said firmly. "We can give you enough rupees to hire help in the house. But they both must come with us."

For a long, tense moment, no one moved. At last, the stepmother released Shanta's hand. Shanta immediately hid behind Natasha.

Bruce produced the number of rupees in cash that he and Natasha had agreed on beforehand.

"Seventy thousand, to share, for your…sacrifice." Bruce said, only the slightest amount of sarcasm peeking out. "I hope it will suffice."

"It will, I assure you." Lakshmi muttered.

After money was exchanged and some legal paperwork signed, Bruce and Natasha both breathed collective sighs of relief.

It was done. Custody was transferred to the state, meaning that they were free to adopt the kids.

"Well, who wants Gulab Jamun?" Natasha asked, holding Shanta tightly in her arms as they left the imposing building. Anish was holding on to Bruce's hand like he never wanted to let go. "I think after that mess we all deserve something fattening and dipped in syrup."

Both kids nodded solemnly.

That afternoon, they didn't talk about what had happened. There would be time enough for that later.

Instead, Natasha talked about the time Tony tried to invent a pulley system to get food from the Tower kitchen to his lab. And Bruce talked about how Thor had once disguised himself as a woman to get his hammer back.

And for one golden afternoon, the four of them were able to be a family, with the shadows of the past banished like smoke.

"And then the cat scratched me all the way down the arm and I had cuts for a week. And that is why you should never give a cat a bath."

Anish sat staring at Pietro's face in the Skype screen for a solid minute.

"But…but why?"

Pietro shrugged. "I was bored."

"Did you not have school to do? Or a book to read?"

"Ej…they didn't really give us much to do at the orphanage. And I hated reading."

Anish shook his head. "I love to read…I learn so much. And then no one can trick me."

Pietro raised an eyebrow. "And who is trying to trick you, huh? Bruce and Natasha?"

"N-no! No, not them. But…there's so many bad people, and they know so much. And if I know lots of things, I can keep Shanta safe, and not get hurt. Auntie and Uncle might not always be there. I have to be ready."

Pietro was beginning to see why Bruce had said he would be a good influence on this boy.

"So…" he said slowly. "They can adopt you?"

Anish nodded. "My grandparents said they could. Or at least that they didn't want…that we could be adopted by someone. My stepmother, too. Pietro, what does suka mean?"

Pietro suddenly developed a coughing fit. "W-where did you learn that?"

"Auntie said it about Stepmother, when she didn't know I could hear. It isn't English."

"No, it's not. It's Russian. It means…it means she's a bad person and a bad lady."

Anish crossed his arms. "I've heard cursing. What does it mean?"

Pietro sighed. "If I tell you, she'll kill me. Do you want me dead?"

"No…"

"Ask Bruce, he'll probably tell you. Nat is weird about kids cursing, for some reason."

"Fine." Anish played with his sleeve. "I hope I can be adopted soon. I want to see you and Cousin Wanda in America."

Pietro gave a huge grin. "We wanna see you, too! Do everything! I can get you ice cream. Good ice cream."

"Uncle says the ice cream in America is different than here…" Anish mused.

"You'll like it, promise. Ej, štene…you almost said something earlier. That they didn't want you. What happened? They just sign a paper an poof…no more relatives?"

Anish frowned. "They were saying all sorts of things. Saying that Shanta had gotten sick, and that they needed money from Auntie and Uncle. Acting like they wanted us but not really. They…all they cared about was money."

Pietro leaned forward. "How you feel after that?"

Anish frowned harder. "Don't! You're doing what Uncle does! I don't want to talk about it! I-I just want to be mad!"

"You can be mad." Pietro said encouragingly. "I would be. I am."

"Why you?"

"…because children shouldn't be like toys for grown-ups to get what they want."

Anish looked down. "I was so afraid they would say no. That we would have to go back with them. Or that they would take Shanta. Stepmother wanted her…not me. I…Pietro, I did try to be good! When Baba married her, I tried to be polite! But she never liked me…why didn't she like me?"

Pietro let out a long, slow sigh. "Kid…I don't know. I don't know why some people have kids they don't love, or why some people who love kids don' have them. I wish I did." He smiled a bit, sadly. "I used to be like you. Wanda was the good kid. I was the one in trouble. The one everyone said was going to be dead before I was eighteen. And then…I got a family. I found some people that didn't care what I did, they just cared about me. They wanted to see me do good, do better. But I only did that because I knew they cared."

"…I think Auntie and Uncle care a lot."

"I think so, too. Natasha really wanted kids, but…" Pietro looked around. "Come here. Closer. And promise you don't tell."

Anish leaned in eagerly. "I promise!"

"You know Natasha…she didn't grow up with good people. Those people wanted her to just kill other people an' do bad stuff. So they hurt her body. They hurt it so…so no kids."

"N-no kids ever?"

"No kids ever. And it made her very sad, I think. So she's happy to have you and Shanta." He leaned in conspiratorially. "She really likes being a mom, I think!"

Anish nodded. "I think so, too. She likes to put us in bed at night. And sing."

"She sings?"

"Yes! Lullabies. And other songs, too. Don't tell, but she sings better than Uncle."

Pietro once more had a slight coughing fit. "D-don't worry, štene, I'll never tell."

"Thank you…thank you for all the things."

Pietro smiled. "I get it. But you're safe, okay? I promise. They love you an' they like to make you happy. You've made them happy a lot."

Anisha nodded thoughtfully. "I need to think a lot…"

Later that night, before going to his and Shanta's room, Anish shyly tapped Natasha on the arm.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I…I love you, Ma."

Natasha's heart rocketed into her throat.

Despite both kids being happy about the (hopeful) adoption, neither of them had dared to call her or Bruce anything but "Auntie" and "Uncle". Bruce had said to give it time.

She grabbed Anish tightly against her. He hung on as if for life itself.

"I love you…I love you more, āmāra chēlē."

About a week later, the little family was sitting in the living room on a rainy night. Shanta was putting her doll 'to sleep', Anish was reading, Bruce was answering an email, and Natasha was sharpening her knife.

"Anish? Shanta?" Bruce said suddenly. "If everything keeps going well, and you two are adopted…would you like middle names?"

Both kids looked up in interest.

"Middle name? Middle where?" Shanta asked.

Bruce chuckled. "No, not like a place. In America, and in other places, people have three names. Your first name, so Shanta…" he poked her belly, making her giggle. "And then another name, a middle name, and then your family name."

"Mandal." Anish said quietly. "That's our family name."

Natasha looked up from her knife. "Do you want to keep it as part of your name?"

Anish bit his lip. "I don't know. Maybe…"

"You can think about it." Bruce said encouragingly. "But a middle name is just an extra name that people give their children. Sometimes it's the same name as a family member, other times, it's just a name the parents like."

"What is your name, B-baba?" Shanta asked shyly.

Bruce felt his heart swell. "It's…well, actually, Bruce is my middle name. My first name is Robert. But my mom always called me Bruce."

Shanta's mouth formed a tiny 'o'. "Ma? Yours?"

Natasha smiled. "I don't have one. In Russia, your middle name just says your baba's name and has some extra letters that mean you're his daughter."

"But what is it?" Anish asked.

"Alianovna."

Shanta tried to repeat it, tripping over the syllables. "Pretty!"

Anish sat still, thinking. "Could we pick any name? Even an American one?"

Bruce nodded. "Sure, bud, if you wanted."

"Baba an' Ma pick." Shanta said quietly.

Natasha looked at her. "You want us to pick a middle name for you?"

"Uh-huh. You can pick good."

Anish nodded slowly. "Yes. You pick. And…we can say yes or no?"

"Of course, you can!" Natasha cried. "It's your name, or at least it will be."

"Then you and Baba pick."

"Anish Matthew…" Bruce whispered softly.

Natasha glanced at him, startled. "You already had one in mind?"

"I-I like the name Matthew. And it means 'gift of God', so…I thought it was appropriate."

"Matthew…Anish, what do you think."

Anish was almost blushing. "I-I'm a gift?"

"The greatest one of all." Bruce said firmly.

"Now me!" Shanta chirped.

Bruce smirked at Natasha. "Any ideas, mommy?"

Natasha gave him a withering look that softened when she looked back at Shanta. "Hm. Shanta…"

What could possibly be a fitting name for this ball of sunshine that gazed up at her in perfect trust? She was like a little sunflower, with her face always turned up…

Lily? Daisy? No…

"Rose." She said finally. "Shanta Rose Mandal Banner."

Shanta squealed and clapped her hands in glee. "I like it! I really like it!"

Anish looked sideways at Bruce. "S-say mine?"

With a loving smile, Bruce replied, "Anish Matthew Mandal Banner."

"…that's really me?"

"Someday, yes, that will be you. Until then, I still love you…and you're still mine. Ours. You and Shanta."

Half in a daze, Anish dragged himself beside Bruce and lay against his side."

"…promise?"

"Double, triple promise."

All was quiet for a soft moment. And then, Anish whispered:

"I love you, Baba."

Bruce hugged him closer.

"I love you, son."

*commence bawling*

Translations:

"Phida na"- Don't fidget

"Stene" (Serbian)- puppy (I figure if Christy is "mace"-kitten, then Anish can be a puppy. ;) )

"Amāra chēlē" - my son

I have a few more things planned for this story and I really don't anticipate it going on much more than 10 chapters. If anyone has any requests for things in this story, don't hesitate to leave a comment and let me know!