And Baby Makes Eight
- Part VII -
"I'm sorry," Maria says, her best efforts at restraining a struggling child lost when Steve opens the door of his apartment and Pippa flings herself at his knees. "She wouldn't sleep—"
It's four in the morning and they've had a dreadful night. Pippa won't settle, and Maria doesn't blame her daughter after the kidnapping – but she's tired and at the end of the tether. She hasn't slept – not properly, not restfully – in nearly half a week. And now Pippa won't sleep – won't rest, won't relax.
Steve hoists Pippa up into his arms. "Keeping your mom up, are you?"
Pippa gives him a trenchant look and wraps her good arm around his neck, tucking her head on his shoulder, careful of the bandage across her head. Maria finds a moment to envy her daughter as Steve waves her in, then closes the door quietly behind them.
"Are you okay?" His hand brushes her arm, and the expression in his eyes is something rather warmer than mere pleasure. Maria has to tell herself it's okay not to pull away, that it's not wrong to want to lean into his touch, but nevertheless something in her expression seems to make him drop his hand. "I'm glad you came to me." Then he winces. "I mean—That sounded better in my head."
Laughter helps. Oh God, it helps so much! And Pippa opens one eye drowsily to check what her mom is laughing at, then closes it again and snuggles in. "I— I thought—in Vietnam—she fell asleep for you—"
"It's fine." He adjusts Pippa in his arms, and looks to Maria. "Sofa or bed?"
He's Steve Rogers. The playfulness is most likely unintentional. Probably.
Maria's answer is serious. "Bed."
Startled hunger flares in his eyes before he tells himself she doesn't mean it like that. His smile is gentle, but there's a bittersweetness to it. "Okay, bed it is."
It hurts to see the hope reined in with such careful control. And it gives her a terrifying thrill to know that she has this power over him.
"Steve." He turns and her hands curl in the cuffs of her long-sleeved sleeping shirt. "I—What you said—in Vietnam—"
"Is still true here."
"I know. Steve—" She wants to look away, but she owes him this truth eye to eye– and all the other truths behind it. "I trust you. With Pippa. And," she says, because she needs to say this much, "with me."
He says nothing for a moment, his face careful and earnest, open and beautiful. Will he understand that this is as far as she can come for the moment? That there are lines in her head and she doesn't have the ability to cross them yet, but she's trying?
Then Steve holds out his free hand. "Come to bed."
Maria pops her hand from her sleeve and slides her fingers into his. A quiet command fades the lights behind them as they go in to bed.
They sleep with Pippa curled between them, finally calm, and wake in daylight to each other.
–
Nick didn't expect she'd show any particular reaction to the report. But he watches her as he leans back in his chair and folds his hands over his chest.
Maria lays the tablet down and looks him in the eye. "It seems straightforward enough, sir. Someone has a grudge and the resources to carry it out."
"Rather significant resources given that over half of the attacks were done under cover of darkness in secured compounds, and the other half were achieved in broad daylight without any collateral damage." Nick lifts an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's odd, Lieutenant?"
"I think it shows a great deal of skill on the part of the attackers."
She's good. She neither confirms that there was a single attacker, nor twitches so much as a single muscle on her face as she looks back at him, unflinching. Which is precisely how Nick knows what she did. What he wants to know – without actually forcing a confession from her – is who she used to get the job done.
It's no skin off his back – although he has his suspicions – but he'd like to know.
He regards her. "How's Pippa doing?"
"She's okay during the day so long as there's someone around. At night... We're dealing with it."
Which is as much as she'll say and, really, as much as Nick needs to know. It's under control, things are being handled.
"When did you plan to start coming back in to work?"
"I'll go through some of the backlog this morning, but I plan to be out of here after lunch."
Nick makes a mental note to get to the daycare before lunchtime. "Kindergartens? Didn't Stark enrol her in that International institute?" As well as just about every other educational program in existence for the children of high-profile parents.
Her lips press together. "Yes, sir."
"Stark being a nuisance? More than usual?"
"We're dealing with it."
"Right." Nick thinks about that plural, thinks about what this woman is capable of, thinks about the things the report said and didn't say. He taps his finger by the tablet screen. "Can you live with this, Lieutenant?"
She knows what he means. "I get a choice not to live with it?"
"There's always a choice. You just may not like the consequences."
"I can live with this."
And the men who conspired to kidnap Pippa will live with the reminder that the little girl might be a useful hostage to the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D., but her mother is a bear who will stop at nothing to protect her cub.
He's not going to ask about the contingency plans that the Avengers are laying in around Pippa. There are things he doesn't need to know and doesn't want to know. And S.H.I.E.L.D. is in the process of re-evaluating its protocols regarding families and the protection of people that its personnel and agents hold dear.
But only so much can be done.
"Right." Nick sighs and leans back in his chair. He has a few moments more before he has to go out and attend a Council meeting. And he still has a powerful curiosity about at least one thing. "How's Rogers doing after Vietnam?"
There might be a slight narrowing of her eyes, but her answer is steady. "So far as I know, he's fine."
"Is he having nightmares, too?"
"I suspect we all are. It could have gone either way."
Nick doesn't quite chuckle at the careful avoidance of an answer that can be used against her. Luckily, he has enough practice to keep his amusement from his face. "All right, Hill," he concedes. "Just remember that what happens after this is known in the business as 'consequences'."
"Like Monica Chang, sir?"
Oh, she's good. "Touché, Lieutenant."
–
Maria wins the argument about the education system vs. private tuition. Stark wins the argument about Pippa's fifth birthday party.
–
drawing by Philippa Carmelita Hill (age 5) brought home from kindergarten:
[This picture is available at the following location - add a '.' in every space]
farm9 staticflickr com/8522/8543595951_61939840eb_o png
"Why am I wider than everyone else except the Hulk? And Bruce is in there twice!"
"Maybe you should just be grateful you're not the great and powerful floating head, Tony."
–
"Shouldn't you be taking photos with Tony and Pepper?" Clint asks when Pippa climbs up on the wall beside him. Unlike Tasha, they don't need him for the bridal party, so he's taking a moment out from the madness.
"Mama said we should take a selfie," she says and pulls a phone with a Hulk case out of the little white string bag that matches her satin-striped dress. She pulls Clint's sunglasses down from the top of his head, and puts an over-large pair on herself.
Bossy little thing.
Clint frowns over the top of his sunglasses. "Aren't these Tony's?" And, yes, over by the cherry tree in bright blossom, Stark is patting himself down with a faint frown.
Pippa may be five years old, but the look on that face is definitely a smirk.
–
"Philippa's imagination is very vivid and her artwork is excellent for a girl her age..."
"But?" Maria prompts.
The teacher seems a little nervous. "Well, the children were asked to paint themselves and a friend. And Pippa drew this."
It doesn't take much interpretation to work out that the big green thing with the black hair is the Hulk. Even if he appears to be on all fours. And, possibly, has a flowing black tail.
If it's not a tail, Maria is going to have a long talk with Bruce.
Across the top of the drawing is painstakingly printed, HULK PONY.
–
One winter morning, Bruce finds Thor standing in the shadowy corridor leading to one of the sparring rooms, smiling as Natasha takes Pippa, Maria, Jane, and Pepper through the slow and steady movements of a tai-chi stretch.
Pippa's balance is wobbly but she doesn't give up.
–
"What did you do at school today, baby?"
"Mikey wanted to play Avengers." Pippa rolls her eyes as only a five year old can. "But it was silly. They just screamed a lot and ran around in circles. And Billy tried to kiss Jojo when she didn't want, but I kicked him like Tasha showed me and said he was a stupid little bully and he stopped."
Steve makes a choked noise over by the stove where he's cooking an actual dinner for them, and when Maria looks his way, his shoulders are shaking.
Maria supposes she should be glad she didn't get a call from the school. As yet, her daughter hasn't started any fights with other children. Maria doubts that's going to last. Pippa is forthright, bossy, has a strong sense of justice, and no fear of saying it like it is.
Can't imagine where she got those traits from, was Fury's sardonic comment.
"So," Maria asks, half-resigned, half-terrified of the answer, "if they were playing Avengers, who did you play?"
If it wasn't Steve – and there'd be stiff competition to play Steve – Maria figures it was Carol or Sif. Most likely Sif since the last time the Asgardian goddess was around, Pippa followed her like a big-eyed shadow, utterly entranced and completely awed.
But Pippa beams over the rim of her juice cup. "I played you, Mommy."
–
Maria forbade the Avengers from turning up to parent-teacher night.
That worked out about as well as expected.
fin
Original Prompt:
After the Battle of Manhattan, Maria Hill finds out she's pregnant, and, in light of everything that's happened (Coulson, aliens, etc) decides to keep the baby and she somehow convinces Fury to install a day care center on the Helicarrier so she can continue her duties. The Avengers are immediately smitten with the baby, who grows up with an incredibly eccentric group of aunts and uncles. Go wild with the cute, anon.
Bonuses
-the baby is named Phillipa (called Pippa), everyone has feels over this
-Clint and Natasha teach the kid, when they're old enough, knife throwing, archery, and other dangerous skills
-HULK GOOD WITH CHILDREN. LIKE MANY SAME THINGS.
-Steve and Thor are naturally the best with the baby
-Pepper has to teach Tony how to play with kids, Tony fears she will get broody and want one of their own, instead he's the one that gets baby fever and starts picking out names (maybe he gets caught hanging out in those baby name message boards?)
NOTES: The original prompt that started this story was from the avengerskink community on LJ. I thought it would be a couple of thousand words and some cute. It turned into nearly 30K with a great deal of angst and crisis and consequences and ALL THE FEELS.
I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for reading!