A/N: Hello, my friends! How are you all? Like last chapter, thank you very much to the people who I've been chatting with, it's always a pleasure. Especially to those who I've only recently started talking to.

Not too much angst in this chapter, but if you want to read a fic and cry forever, check out my mate, StacyMc2012's huntingbird fic Small Bump

After putting Skye to bed, Bobbi went back downstairs to hang out with Clint and Nat. The three of them sat on the couch, watching some weird documentary about various landmarks in Europe that no one had ever heard of. Bobbi suspected her sister and Clint were absorbing just as much information from the show as she was, which was very little.

Her mind was on other things. Her husband. Her Dad. Her Mom; who she still desperately needed to apologise to. And a tiny part of Bobbi's mind was on at what point after her apology to her mother, should she bring up the fact that she and Lance had no money, no home lined up, and that ninety per cent of their stuff was still back in England. She should probably leave a little while before bringing that up, maybe go with the original plan of getting her parents good and drunk first.

The dog lay across Clint's legs with his head in Natasha's lap, and Bobbi found herself stroking his head without even thinking about it. She also found herself nibbling on her sleeve every so often and berated herself each time she did.

The fifth time Bobbi had to remove her sweatshirt sleeve from her mouth, she grumbled under her breath. "Stop it." As if that would somehow coax her subconscious into acting like an adult.

"It's okay." Nat said quietly, eyes still on the TV. "Sometimes I still bite my mouth. I only notice when it gets sore."

"That's different though." Bobbi mumbled.

"How?" This time Nat actually turned to her older sister. "How is it different?"

"I'm an adult." Bobbi pushed both sleeves up past her elbows when the urge to chew them became stronger again. "I'm supposed to have grown out of things like this. I'm married."

Nat turned back to the TV. "I'm nineteen. I'm an adult, too."

"I'm twenty." Clint shrugged. "Sometimes I do weird shit. Stuff I think I used to maybe do as I kid." He sighed. "I dunno, I guess sometimes being an adult doesn't mean you're all grown up."

"I'm married." Bobbi said again.

Clint scratched the dog's back. "So you keep saying." He rested his head on Nat's shoulder. "I don't see how that matters."

"I guess I always thought that when I grew up and got married, I'd be…" Bobbi leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes, "normal? I don't know. Just, I'd be..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "I thought once I grew up, I wouldn't be messed up anymore. I wouldn't be broken."

Nat's took her hand in hers. "You are not broken." Her little sister said. "Bobbi."

Bobbi opened her eyes. Natasha was frowning at her.

"You are not broken." Tasha said again. "None of us are. We're just…different."

"Unusual." Clint added. "More interesting than the average person." He sounded almost proud. "We haven't exactly had normal lives. You can't expect to be a 'normal' adult, Bobbi, when you've seen the shit you have..." He rubbed his eyes. "…that any of us have."

"I didn't…" Bobbi looked at her sister and Clint. "I didn't mean that you guys were, I just, I…" She looked down at her hand clinging onto Natasha's. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Nat said.

"I'm sorry." Bobbi repeated. "You're right. We're not broken."

Clint nodded. "Glad we're on the same page."

They sat quietly, none of them talking, Natasha's fingers playing with the engagement and wedding rings on Bobbi's finger, until the documentary on the TV finished and a new show about rich people buying expensive houses began playing. Clint switched it off before the opening credits even finished.

"I think we can all agree that watching some idiot with too much cash buying a house with thirty rooms just so he can avoid the death glares from his trophy wife, is a waste of all of our time." Clint muttered.

Natasha and Bobbi didn't argue.

Clint tugged at the dog's collar until he hopped down from the couch. Bobbi wanted to ask if Clint had thought any more about naming him, but it seemed unfair when the animal was going to be gone by tomorrow, and she didn't want to upset Clint.

He ruffled the fur on the dog's head. "I'm gonna take him out for a walk before we go to bed." He stood and fished the dog's leash out from somewhere down the side of the couch. "You wanna come?" Clint looked between the two girls, but Natasha shook her head.

"You go. I want to talk with my sister."

"Okay." Clint leaned over the couch to peck Nat on the lips. "I'll see you in a bit." He left through the back door, the dog trotting along beside him.

Natasha pulled her feet up onto the sofa, crossing her legs and shifting her entire posture to face Bobbi. The younger of the two sisters reached out and gently brushed some of her elder sister's hair away from her face, tucking the blonde strands behind her ears.

"I don't like it when you talk about yourself in that way." Nat said.

Natasha sounded so much like their mother, that Bobbi found herself looking down at her hands to avoid her sister's eyes. She still felt infinity guilty over the way she had spoken to her mom.

"What way?" Bobbi asked

"Like you're worth any less, just because-,"

"I'm sorry, Nat." Bobbi interjected. "When I said 'broken', I didn't mean it. I didn't mean you were-,"

"I know." Nat said. "And I don't care. I am as messed up as they come, but I don't care. I care that you feel that way about yourself."

Bobbi over at her little sister. "You used to care. From what I can remember, you cared a whole lot." Memories of a younger Nat protesting she absolutely did not need to see a psychologist invaded Bobbi's mind. She smiled. "You used to tell Mom you were fine, and then you'd have a nightmare and nearly tear the whole house apart."

Nat glanced away. "I was an idiot."

"No. You were a kid." Bobbi smiled and nudged Nat with her shoulder. "Still are."

Tasha looked back to Bobbi. "Do you remember when I first came here and Mom used to put me to bed, and you would sneak into my room once she'd gone back downstairs?"

Bobbi frowned. "I didn't realise you knew I did that." She had, for months, waited until she thought Natasha had fallen asleep to go into her bedroom and check on her. Make sure her little sister was alright. "You used to run away a lot." Bobbi said quietly. "I got scared you'd climb out of your window and one day you'd never come back."

"You used to talk to me." Tasha shuffled closer to Bobbi. "I always pretended to be asleep, but I listened to you, even before I could understand English, I listened to you."

It was strange, but Bobbi found herself blushing. "I thought you were asleep." She picked at the nail varnish on her thumbnail. "I didn't think you'd remember anything I said to you."

"Did you mean it?"

"Of course." Bobbi said sincerely. "Everything. Every word."

"You used to tell me I was safe." Nat said with a little smile. She laid her head on Bobbi's shoulder and pressed her nose into her sweatshirt. "You used to tell me I didn't have to run away. That I was loved. That you loved me." Nat leaned up and kissed Bobbi's cheek, wrapping both arms around her sister. "That meant a lot to me. It still does. Thank you."

"I thought that if I talked to you when you were sleeping," Bobbi shook her head, "I don't know, I thought maybe you'd start believing me. You're subconscious would believe you were safe and loved and you would stop running away."

"It did work." Nat said. "We're not broken, Bobbi."

"I know."

"We're not." Tasha cuddled into Bobbi. "I used to think I was, a long time ago. But now I'm happy and safe and I have people who love me. So do you."

Bobbi grinned. God, she loved her sister. How was this gorgeous little thing, cheering her on, the same kid who once bit a chunk out of Bobbi's arm when she was fourteen? "We got it pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah." Nat grinned. "We do. Do you still feel embarrassed about chewing your sleeves?" Nat asked quietly.

"Maybe." Bobbi answered, just as quiet. "But I'm trying not to be. Some people chew pens or bite their nails without realising their doing it. It's almost the same thing, right?"

"Yeah." Nat said.

"And Hunter doesn't mind." Bobbi smiled. "He says it's cute."

Tasha rubbed tiredly at her eyes. "Want me to tell you something embarrassing that Clint does, to make you feel better?"

Bobbi smirked. "Won't he get mad if you tell me one of his secrets?"

"No. He doesn't care."

"Okay, then. Make me feel better about myself with Clint's misfortune."

Natasha chuckled into Bobbi's shoulder. "Sometimes when he's asleep, he talks. Like full sentences and everything. Stuff that makes total sense, and the best part is, he can't hear himself, to wake himself up." She grinned.

"That's pretty funny."

"Right?" Nat giggled. "Sometimes he wakes me up talking and I just lie awake and listen because it's so funny."

"Nat?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to burst your bubble, but Clint's not the only one who talks in his sleep." Bobbi smirked. "You're pretty talkative yourself."

Natasha's cheeks turned scarlet. "No, no I don't."

"Yeah, you do." Bobbi laughed. "You totally do."

Nat huffed. "You're lying."

"I'm not, Bubba."

"Clint's never complained."

"Clint's deaf."

"Damnit." Nat frowned. "I…I don't say anything, you know, weird, right?"

The front door opened. Bobbi didn't pay it much note only expecting Clint to walk in with the dog, and she remained cuddled up in Natasha's embrace. Nat didn't bother turning around either, still nuzzling into Bobbi's shoulder with red cheeks. It wasn't often Nat blushed, and Bobbi loved she'd found something to tease her sister with.

Bobbi smiled at her sister's discomfort. "I wouldn't know. I never know what you're saying in your sleep." She shrugged. "It's always in Russian."

"Oh, thank God." Nat said.

"No need to thank me." Lance said, striding into the living room. He grinned at Bobbi and Nat. "Evening, ladies."

Natasha looked up at him. "That was you just coming in?"

"Yeah."

"And me." Phil added, walking over to stand by Hunter. "Who else would it be?"

"Clint." Nat said, then looked away from her father. "He took the dog for a walk."

"I see." Phil said.

Bobbi extracted herself from Natasha and stood to walk over to Lance. He met her half way and pulled her into a tight hug in the middle of the living room, kissing her temple.

"I love you." He mumbled into her hair.

"Love you, too." She replied, tucking herself into his side. Bobbi pulled back slightly to inspect Lance's face. "Oh good." She grinned, reaching out to pat his cheek, if only to check he was actually there and in one piece. "Dad didn't kill you, then?"

"Didn't even punch me." Lance grinned cockily. "Chased me through the streets for about a mile and a half, but I'm alright."

"Don't push it, Hunter." Phil said, but he was smiling at him and Bobbi.

"Thanks, Dad." Bobbi said, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly grateful for her family. She left Lance to hug her father tightly, not letting up even when she felt Natasha approach from her side and join the hug.

Phil's arms tightened around his daughters. "Girls, I appreciate the hug and I love you both very much, but what's the occasion?" He pulled back slightly and tweaked Nat's nose. "When I left I distinctly remember being very angry at you. Hugs won't change my opinion on the dog."

Nat didn't remove herself from the cuddle, but she pouted. "But you let Bobbi keep Hunter."

"Hey." Hunter said from somewhere behind them.

"Actually," Phil laughed, "I let you keep Clint. And I refuse to let Clint keep the dog." He kissed Nat's head. "But I love you, Bubba. I do."

"I know, Dad. I love you, too." Nat sounded tired, Bobbi thought. She sounded like Bobbi felt.

Phil ushered them back over to the couch and sat down in between his eldest daughters. Hunter perched on the arm of the couch closest to Bobbi, putting a hand on her shoulder. She reached up and laced her fingers with his.

"Where's your mother?" Phil asked, looking to Bobbi. "I need to have a chat with her about you and Hunter staying her for a while."

Bobbi frowned.

"I told him." Lance said. "Everything." He squeezed Bobbi's hand. "He says we can stay here until we get back on our feet."

She turned to her father. "Thanks, Dad. Really, thank you. It won't be long, I swear, and I'll help around the house, and-,"

Her dad held a hand up in front of her face. "You're welcome, Bobbi. But you have to know you are always welcome here." Phil looked over to Nat. "Both of you. This is your home."

"Thank you, Dad." Bobbi said again.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Now, your mother?"

"She's upstairs." Nat said. "In your room. She's, well, she's been up there for a while."

Phil frowned. "How long?"

"Since before Skye went to bed." Bobbi said. "We, um…" she glanced at Nat. Her sister was looking down at her lap. "We had a fight."

"Oh?" Phil looked between his daughters.

"We said some bad things to her." Tasha admitted in a small voice. "Clint, too."

Bobbi swallowed. "I think we really upset her. I want to go apologise, but if she wants to be alone…"

"Okay." Phil stood up. He leaned over to kiss Bobbi and Natasha on the cheek.

"Where's mine?" Hunter smirked, and Bobbi gave him a half hearted smack on the arm.

Phil rolled his eyes. "Leave apologising until tomorrow. Your Mom's been a little under the weather lately, let her rest."

"Is she sick?" Nat asked.

"I think she's just been working a little too hard. Try not to worry." Phil squeezed Nat's shoulder. "Have you guys had dinner?"

"Yeah. Bobbi made it. There's still some left."

"Good, thanks, honey." Phil smiled at Bobbi. "I'm going to take some food upstairs, check on your Mom, then I'm hitting the hay, too. We'll sort everything out tomorrow, okay."

Bobbi and Nat both nodded.

"Good." Phil said, smiling. "Don't worry too much, girls. It's been a crazy day. Tomorrow will be better."

"It will?" Bobbi asked, looking to her father for assurance.

"Yes." He said without hesitation. "And you know why that is?"

"Why?"

"Because that dog will be out of my house."

Bobbi snorted at the wounded look on Nat's face.

"Not nice, Dad." Tasha huffed.

Their father grinned, making his way into the kitchen. "I love you, too, Natasha."

…

Phil wasn't quite sure what had happened between the kids and his wife after he had left the house to chase Hunter around the neighbourhood. The girls seemed reluctant to go into it, though from their desperation to apologise to their mother, Phil suspected, it hadn't been a good night.

He had intended to look in on Skye, who Bobbi had apparently put to bed a while before, but with his laptop under one arm and the other precariously balancing a plate of food and holding a bottle of water, Phil decided that he would check in on his youngest after putting down all of his things in his bedroom. However, when Phil awkwardly shouldered open the bedroom door and stepped inside, it became apparent very quickly that he needn't leave the room to check on Skye.

The little girl lay draped across Melinda, head on her chest, hand on her stomach, sleeping soundly. Melinda was sleeping, too, one arm protectively thrown over Skye's back, tucking the child into her side.

Careful not to disturb his girls, Phil put down his food and laptop at the desk at the far end of the room and settled down to do some work while he ate his dinner. The work that needed to be done before the next morning, consisted of some incredibly lengthy data entry that Phil could probably have had one of the college kids they hired to do, but he felt guilty for sticking them with something so tedious when they already had so many papers to write to begin with. And anyway, the data entry was mind-numbing enough that Phil could complete the work, eat his dinner, and let his mind wander, and Phil liked to let his mind wander sometimes.

He thought about the kids downstairs. Nat, Bobbi, Lance. He thought about the fact that he had to, at some point tomorrow, do some real organising of their finances in order to set up some sort of short-term loan system for Lance and Bobbi. Phil would have preferred to just gift his daughter and her new husband enough money to get them back onto their feet, but Lance had been adamant that that any money was going to be a loan, any stay in their house was going to be temporary, and that he and Bobbi wanted to stand on their own two feet. Phil respected Lance Hunter.

Phil also found himself thinking about Clint and Nat and their stupid dog. He still felt bad shouting at them, but the kids knew he didn't like dogs, knew that it was unreasonable for them to care for one when they were out all day at work. He suspected that's what much of the 'fight' Nat and Bobbi had mentioned was about. Natasha and Clint both got awfully passionate about the things they cared about, and it often led to fiery arguments when things didn't go their way. Phil had been hoping the two of them were growing out of having hormone-fuelled arguments, but apparently it was still a risk.

Bobbi, though, Phil couldn't quite imagine what her involvement in the fight had been. She had appeared very upset about the whole thing. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Phil that her sleeves had been pulled up to her elbows, with little damp stains on the cuffs. Of all the kids, Clint and Trip included, Bobbi tended to be the least confrontational with her parents. It was just in her nature. She and Nat had fought like cat and dog, but with Phil and Mel, any disagreement tended to end in the silent treatment and some cursory glares.

Dinner finished, work competed, and having changed into his nightwear, Phil climbed into bed beside Melinda and Skye. He tried to be quiet, to avoid jostling them as he settled down, but apparently he had failed to succeed. Skye sat up, looking around herself and rubbing at her eyes.

She looked at him through sleep-addled eyes. "S'morning?"

"No, sweetie." Phil smiled. "Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you."

Skye blinked slowly and looked over at Melinda. "Mommy's sleepin'." She slurred.

Phil smiled at her. "Mommy?" He asked, wondering when that new title had come into play.

Skye lay down next to him. "Mommy's sleepin'." She said again, closing her eyes. Her thumb went into her mouth, and her fingers hooked over her nose. There was still some green paint from the fence in her nail beds.

Phil flicked off the lamp by his bed, and lay down. Skye's hair tickled his nose, and he had to brush it away and tuck it behind her ears. She made a little whiny noise and scrunched up her nose.

"Bedtime." She mumbled around her thumb.

"Yeah." Phil chuckled. "Hey, Skye?"

"Hm?" Skye's eyes flickered under her eyelids, but she didn't open them.

"Don't ever grow up." Phil whispered. "Kids are a lot less complicated when they're little. Try not to grow up, okay?"

"'Kay." Skye agreed.

"Night-night, baby."

"M'the baby." Skye muttered.

Phil smiled. "Yeah, you are."

"Good."

After that, Skye's breathing became significantly heavier as she dropped into a heavy slumber.

"I love you." Phil whispered to her. He reached over Skye to brush Melinda's hand with his own. "I love you." He told his sleeping wife.

Phil loved his family. He was happy.

…

From the moment she woke up bright and early on Monday morning, Melinda pretended that everything was perfectly normal, and she absolutely was not freaking the fuck out on the inside. This lasted exactly seven minutes and twelve seconds, until she found herself bent over the toilet, puking up her guts.

Phil was already up and out of bed, having decided to get breakfast started downstairs, so Mel didn't need to worry about him seeing her in this unpleasant state, but little Skye stood shyly at the bathroom door, still in her pyjamas. The little girl nibbled on her thumb.

"You said you weren't sick." She mumbled.

Melinda sat by the toilet, reaching up to flush it and knock down the seat. "Can get my tooth brush sweetie?" She asked Skye in a pathetic excuse to distract the child.

Skye complied, even applying the toothpaste for her.

"Thanks." Mel spent more time than was strictly necessary brushing her teeth, avoiding Skye's gaze by getting up and spitting into the sink. Another wave of nausea attacked, and Mel had to close her eyes and breathe heavily in through her nose and out thorough her mouth, to keep from throwing up again. Deciding it was too much effort to do anything other than sit down right now, Mel took her residence back on the tiled bathroom floor by the toilet bowl.

"You said you weren't sick." Skye said again, this time louder. She was hovering back by the door.

Melinda smiled at her. She knew full well Skye was aware that she wasn't sick. "I'm not." She said. "I promise, I'm not sick."

Skye frowned. "But you threw up." She said urgently. Her eyes were glistening and her expression was frightened. "I saw you."

It suddenly occurred to Melinda, that even if Skye was aware that she was pregnant (and she still wasn't quite sure how Skye had in fact figured it out), it was likely that Skye was unaware of the side effects of being pregnant To eight-year-old Skye, it probably seemed as though Melinda was just pregnant and sick. Mel sighed. The little thing was probably worried about her.

"Skye." Mel said gently.

Skye turned her head away from her.

"Skye." She said again. "Honey."

The little girl eventually turned back to her, but her little frown was as prominent as ever.

Melinda sighed. "Come here." She held out her arms and stretched her legs across the tiled floor.

Skye leaned against the door frame.

"Please." Mel tried again. "I need hugs."

"Why?" Skye asked. "Cause you're sick, right?"

"I'm not sick."

"But you-,"

"Please, Skye." Melinda's arms were still open, and Skye dropped to the ground and slid along the bathroom floor on her knees until she landed in her arms. Mel lifted the little girl into her lap, and Skye immediately cuddled into her, tucking her head under Mel's cheek.

Skye was quiet. Her thumb crept up to her mouth, but Melinda pulled her hand back down.

"Don't suck you thumb, it's not-,"

"Bedtime." Skye finished. "I know."

Melinda stroked her hair. "Good girl." She kissed Skye's hair. "I love you, so much. You know that, right?" Mel rocked Skye on her lap. "No matter what, I love you."

"Yes."

"You don't sound convinced." Mel cocked an eyebrow at the little girl.

"I still think you're lying about being sick."

"I'm not." Mel said. She shifted Skye on her lap so that she could look at her in the eye. "I promise you, that I'm okay. I know I threw up, and I'm sorry you saw that, it must have been scary, but it's…normal." She silently begged Skye to understand what she was attempting to explain without revealing that she was aware Skye knew about the pregnancy, but the little girl just looked incredibly confused.

Melinda sighed. "You and I need to have a talk, don't we baby?"

Skye reached out and put a gentle hand on her cheek. "You're my Mommy." She said.

"Yes." Melinda breathed.

The dark eyes of her youngest daughter bore into her own with an intensity Melinda honestly thought she had never truly experienced before. Skye's hand remained on her cheek, little fingers tracing the hairline by her ear.

"My Mommy." Skye said.

"Yes. Always."

"Forever and ever?"

"Forever and ever." Melinda confirmed. She covered Skye's hand with her own, and turned her head to press a kiss to her daughter's palm.

"Mommy," Skye tucked herself back under Melinda's chin, "I love you."

Mel squeezed her eyes shut. "My baby, I love you so much."

She opened her eyes when the sound of someone entering the bedroom echoed through the ensuite. Sure enough, Phil walked into the bathroom, frowning at the scene in front of him.

"Everything okay?" He asked, looking between Skye and Mel, both still huddled on the ground.

"We're fine." Mel smiled.

"Really?" Phil asked, "Because you're sitting worryingly close to the toilet."

For half a second, Melinda panicked, suddenly aware she had no explanation for this position without worrying Phil or making him suspicious. She knew he would have to find out eventually, but Melinda wanted to be able to think about the whole situation for longer than a second without wanting to throw herself out of a window, before she actually told him. Well, throwing herself out of a window was perhaps a bit extreme, but the sentiment still stood.

As it happened, Mel's panic was unwarranted, as it was Skye who saved her from coming up with an excuse.

"I didn't feel good." Skye said, looking up at Phil through dark lashes.

"Oh?" He said. "You're sick."

Skye looked back at Melinda. "No. I don't think so. I just felt sick."

"Right. So your on the bathroom floor, why?"

"Because if I was gonna puke, the toilet's right there." Skye said like it was obvious. Melinda found herself smirking. "And I needed a hug off Mommy."

And that little word had Mel grinning from ear to ear. She kissed Skye's cheek.

"And now you're all better?" Mel asked.

Skye smiled at her. "I dunno. You tell me."

"You're fine." Melinda deadpanned, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.

The little girl grinned. "Good."

Phil just looked between his wife and daughter, more baffled at the exchange than anything else. "I only came up here to tell you breakfast is ready. So, you know, I'll be downstairs whenever you're ready."

"We'll be down in a little bit." Mel assured him, and Phil nodded, leaving Skye and Melinda alone once more. She tickled Skye's side until the little girl looked at her. "I love you."

Skye hugged Mel tightly around the waist. "I love you, Mommy."

…

The dog hadn't been in the house when Skye had gone down for breakfast. She was little bummed at that because Mommy had told her that Clint and Natasha were finding somewhere else for the dog to live and that he would be gone by the time she got home from school. Skye had wanted to play with him before he went away but Phil said Clint and Nat were already gone before even he woke up so they must have been up super early.

Bobbi and Hunter were gone, too, although Phil said he saw them before they left the house. They were out looking for an apartment, and Hunter was looking for a job. That's what Mommy and Phil were talking about as they drove Skye to school. She listened quietly and watched the raindrops run down the outside of the car window. Maybe Miss Potts wouldn't let them outside for recess today if it was raining.

"I wish he would just let us give him a job, even if it's just until he finds one on his own." Phil was saying. He was driving this morning.

Mommy was in the passenger seat, sipping on her flask of tea and nibbling a cereal bar. She had said she didn't want scrambled eggs like Skye was having. Skye thought that if she had thrown up, she probably wouldn't want any eggs either.

"It's a pride thing, Phil." Mommy said. "You get that. He wants to work, but he doesn't want it to be handed to him on a plate."

"I understand." Phil sighed. "I just…Hunter needs a job, we could give him one. It seems silly that he's going to be out all day looking for work when it's right here waiting for him."

"Give him time." Mommy said. "Just see. You never know, he might find something he'd rather do than work in a gym with his wife's family all day."

"Wife." Phil muttered. "Wife. Can't get used to that."

Skye giggled.

"Are you laughing at me?" Phil grinned at her through the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah." Skye nodded. "Cause you're funny, Phil."

"Well, I am pretty funny."

They stopped off at the bank on the way to Skye's school. Phil went inside and Mommy stayed in the car with Skye. She had stopped eating the cereal bar, only having consumed about a third of it, and wrapped the rest of it up, slipping it into the glove box.

"You're supposed to eat breakfast every day." Skye said, unbuckling her seatbelt and poking her head between the two front seats.

"Yeah? And who told you that?" Mommy smiled. Her skin was pale, but she hadn't put any make up on after they got dressed, so maybe that as the reason.

"You did." Skye said. "You said it's the most important meal of the day."

"I know, but I'm not feeling up to it this morning."

"Are you gonna puke again?" Skye put a hand on Mommy's forehead because that's what you did when someone wasn't feeling well. She didn't know why, exactly.

Mommy laughed and removed Skye's hand from her face. "I don't think I'm likely to throw up again. I hope." She kissed Skye's knuckles. "Thank you for covering for me this morning."

"S'okay." Skye shrugged. "I could tell you didn't want Phil to know."

"I didn't want him to worry."

"Right." Skye looked at the digital clock on the car's dashboard. School would be starting soon. "I can just stay with you today." She said.

Mommy cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. 'Cause you're sick. I can help you at work."

"But what about school?"

Skye grumbled. "What about it?"

"Honey," Mommy ran her hand through Skye's ponytail, "you have to go to school. I'll be fine."

She wasn't convinced. Skye thought that maybe she ought to tell Mommy that she knew about the baby, because maybe Mommy didn't realise that if she was sick, then the baby might get sick, too. That could happen, right? A thought hit Skye then. What if Mommy threw up again, and she puked so much that she puked up the baby? Skye didn't like the baby, but she didn't want it to be puked up.

"I think I should stay with you today, Mommy." Skye said. She'd take care of her, just to be safe. She could miss one day of school.

"No. Don't worry about me." Mommy said in her 'don't argue with me' voice. "You're going to school."

Phil came back, then. He had a pile of papers in his hands that he passed over to Mommy as he got back in the car.

"What are you doing out of your seat, little one?" He playfully pinched Skye's side.

"I'm not going to school today." She told him.

"Oh?" He looked over at Mommy.

"Yes, she is." She said.

"But I can't go to school." Skye stressed, turning her attentions to Phil. He was way more likely to break than Mommy.

"And why not?"

"Because…" Skye looked over to Mommy, smiled, then looked back to Phil. "I'm sick."

"You are?" Phil sounded genuinely concerned, and Skye made the effort to stick her bottom lip out and look as sad as she could.

"M'very sick, Phil." She pouted. "Too sick for school."

Phil frowned. "Maybe she is sick, Mel."

"Skye's fine."

"But she didn't feel well this morning." He said and Skye nodded. "I don't want her in school if she's unwell."

"Phil," Mommy was smirking, "I promise you, she's fine."

"I'm sick." Skye huffed. "I swear!"

Mommy kissed her forehead. "You're a good little actress, but you don't fool me. Get back in your seat."

"Fine." Skye climbed back in her car seat and strapped herself in.

Phil hesitated, but one look from Mommy and he was pulling out of the bank and taking Skye to school. If she absolutely had to go to school, Skye just hoped Phil was up to the job of taking care of Mommy.

…

It was still raining, even by recess, so Miss Potts said they had to stay indoors. Skye didn't really mind, she liked having free time in their classroom, but Grant was disappointed because he wanted to play spies and they weren't allowed to run around inside. Instead, he and Skye took residence at the table by Miss Potts' desk with a couple of the other kids in their class, and played with the Happy Families cards.

"I don't like this game." Grant said, setting his completed 'Green Family' on the desk.

Skye looked over her cards. "Why? 'Cause it means you gotta sit down for five seconds." She grinned.

Grant Ward was always up at every opportunity. He didn't like sitting down for long periods of time. Even when they were meant to be doing class work, he often left his chair and wandered around the classroom until Miss Potts' told him to sit down.

"It's boring." He said. "But it makes no sense either."

"Huh?" Jessica, a girl who sometimes helped Skye with her spellings, asked.

Grant held up the Green family. "Mom, Dad, brother and a sister." He pointed to each card in turn. "How many people have a family like that?"

Skye couldn't answer. She was sure some of the people in her class lived like that, but she didn't know anyone. Instead she shrugged.

"I got a Dad, and I used to have a Mom, but no brother." Jessica nudged the other person at their table, Peter. "You know any families like that, Pete?"

Peter shook his head. He didn't talk much.

"Happy Families," Grant read off the card box, "that's just stupid. I'm happy in my family, and my family ain't nothing like these ones." He nodded to Skye. "You, too. Your family is better than this, I bet."

"It is." Skye said.

"What's your family like?" Jessica asked.

"Oh. Well, I um," Skye reached over Grant to get some paper and a pencil off Miss Potts' desk. She began drawing rectangles on the paper, copying off the cards on the desk. "I got two sisters," she told Jessica, doing a quick sketch of Bobbi on one of the rectangles and one of Nat in another. "And I got a, well, he's kind of a brother. He's Tasha's boyfriend." She drew Clint and labelled his card.

Jessica moved around the table to watch Skye draw over her shoulder.

"Then there's Hunter." Skye drew him as the card next to Bobbi. "He's Bobbi's husband. And I've got a Mommy." She took extra time to make sure Mommy's portrait was as accurate as possible. She didn't bother drawing the baby. "And," Skye finished her last card, "I got a Phil."

"What's a 'Phil'?" Jessica asked. "Isn't he your Daddy?"

"Not yet." Skye said. "Maybe soon He's cool."

"Wow." Jessica said. "Your family is pretty big."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Skye quickly drew another card. "Lulu. That's Nat's pet spider."

"I like spiders." Peter said.

Jessica pulled some paper off Miss Potts' desk , too, except she wasn't very careful and the pile spilled out over the floor. "Oopsie." She didn't clean it up.

Grant picked out the spilled paper and took a sheet for himself and one for Peter. Peter smiled at him shyly.

"Okay," Jessica announced, she had already drawn on her paper, but the pictures were bit scribbly, Skye thought. Maybe she needed a few lessons from Bobbi. "This is my family. That's me, that's my Dad, and that's my Mommy." Jessica pointed to the picture of the woman.

"What's on her back?" Grant asked.

"Her wings." Jessica said matter-of-factly. "She's in heaven now."

Grant looked down at his own paper, and Skye watched as he began drawing his own cards. There were more than Skye had expected.

"That's Pepper." Grant said, pointing to his drawing of Miss Potts, "And that's Tony." Tony's picture was pretty funny because there was a robot in it with him.

"Who's the other people, Grant?" Jessica asked.

"That's my Mom." Grant said, and for some reason, Skye always expected him to sound sad when he spoke about his mom, but Grant never did. "I don't know where she is now, but she's still in my family. And this is my big brother."

"You have a brother?" Jessica asked. "I never knew that."

"I got two." Grant said. He smiled. "Christian is my big brother, but I haven't seen him in a long time. And Thomas is my little brother." He had drawn wings on Thomas' picture. "He's in heaven."

"That's sad." Skye said. For all the sad things that had happened in Skye's life, she had never known someone who had died.

"S'okay." Grant shrugged. "He's happy in heaven."

Skye wasn't even sure if she believed there was such a place as heaven, but she didn't want to upset Jessica and Grant, so she just nodded.

"Pete's mom and dad are in heaven, too." Jessica said. "Aren't they, Peter?"

Peter nodded, but didn't look up from where he was drawing his own set of cards. Skye could see the two where the people had wings. There were three more cards on his page.

"Who are the other people, Peter?" Skye asked.

"My Aunt and Uncle." He said, "And that's my best friend, M.J."

"You can't have a friend in your family." Jessica said.

"Yes you can." Skye snapped. She thought to Natasha and Clint and how they had been best friends for a long time. "You can."

Jessica shrugged and skipped off to the other end of the classroom where a group of kids were playing with the Jenga bricks. Peter stood to follow her, carefully folding his drawing and putting it in his pocket. He waved to Skye and Grant before he left their table.

"Do you miss your brothers?" Skye found herself asking Grant.

He seemed to think about it for a second. "I guess so." He said eventually. "I don't really remember them much. Christian left when I was really little and Thomas died when he was baby. It's been just me for a long time."

"I don't like babies." Skye said.

"You don't? I thought you did?"

"I did. I don't like them anymore."

"Since when?" Grant asked.

"Since yesterday." She told him. "Do you remember when your Mom had Thomas, then?"

"A little. Why?"

Skye propped her head up on her elbow. "What happens when a lady has a baby?"

"Well," Grant said, "she gets fat, and then a baby grows in her tummy, and then it comes out and that's how it works."

"How long does it take, though?"

Grant shrugged. "We could ask, Pepper."

"Ask Pepper what?"

Skye and Grant jumped when Miss Potts appeared behind them. She smiled brightly and sat down in her wheelie desk chair.

"Skye wants to know how long it takes to have a baby." Grant said.

Miss Potts raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Any reason for the sudden interest?"

Skye shook her head. "Absolutely none at all."

"Okay, then." Miss Potts smiled. "It takes nine months for the baby to grow in the woman's tummy, and then it's born."

"That's a long time." Grant said. Skye agreed. "That must suck for the lady."

"Why?" Skye frowned.

"Well she's gotta carry a baby around under her shirt for almost a year." He grimaced. "I wouldn't wanna do that."

Skye guessed he was right. Poor Mommy was going to be real tired, carrying a baby around all day, every day for nine months. Especially if she was sick, too.

"Miss Potts?" Skye asked.

"Yes, Skye?"

"What if the lady's sick when she's got a baby in her? Like if she's puking and stuff?"

Miss Potts cocked her head to one side. "Did you see that on TV, Skye? Have you been watching the discovery channel, or something?"

"Yes." Skye lied. "I saw it on TV. A lady was puking and she was pregnant."

Grand screwed up his face.

"That's perfectly normal." Miss Potts told them.

"Really?" Skye asked.

"Yeah. It just happens for a little while when the woman is first pregnant."

Skye felt a weight lift off her shoulders. "So she's not sick, then. She won't puke up the baby." She said more to herself than anyone else.

"Who won't?" Miss Potts questioned.

"The lady on the TV." Skye lied again, smiling brightly. "That's good."

"So, the lady's gotta have a baby in her belly for nine months, and she's puking the whole time, too?" Grant shuddered. "I'm so glad I'm a dude."

Miss Potts chuckled. "Yeah, well, it's all worth it because at the end you get your child to care for."

Grant still grimaced. "Sounds like a raw deal to me. Anyway, not everyone needs to be pregnant to have a kid." He smiled at Miss Potts. "You didn't need to get fat and sad to get me."

Miss Potts dropped her head into her hands, but her shoulders shook as she laughed. When she looked up at them, her cheeks were flushed and she had to wipe away a tear at the corner of her eye. She was smirking.

"Fat and sad, huh?" She shook her head. "I think we need to have a little talk about the bids and the bees when we get home."

Skye had no idea what she was talking about, and from the puzzled look on Grant's face, he had no clue either. That made Skye feel a bit better about not knowing. Mostly, Skye was just incredibly relieved that her Mommy was okay, and that she wasn't sick.

"Does that mean that it's the baby making the lady puke?" Skye asked.

Miss Potts ruffled Grant's hair and schooled her smile a little. She folded her fingers on her desk.

"Well, kind of. It's not really the baby's fault…"

"But if the baby wasn't in her tummy, then she wouldn't be feeling sick?"

Miss Potts looked torn. "True, but-,"

Skye stopped listening after that. She all the information she needed to justify her dislike of the baby inside Mommy. Stupid baby. Skye wondered if this was how Phil felt about the dog.

"But how does the baby get in there?" Grant was asking when Skye started paying attention again.

"Tony and I will explain everything to you when we get home, okay? Maybe we can have some ice cream, and talk about it then?" Miss Potts smiled.

"Okay." Grant grinned. "I can't wait."

Miss Potts fished her cell phone out of her desk drawer. "I better give Tony a heads up." She muttered.

…

Tony Stark was draped across Melinda's couch in her office, fiddling with what looked like a Rubix cube but with more sides. He had been there for well over an hour, having simply walked in unannounced and made himself at home, apparently content to entertain himself with the various gadgets he had brought with him.

Melinda looked up from her computer, having sent what she hoped to God was her last email of the day. "Tony, not that I don't love having you here, but why are you here exactly."

Tony Stark grinned at her. "Aww, Mels, you love having me here?"

She shook her head and took a swig of tea from her mug, now significantly more confident that she wasn't going to throw up at any given moment. "Actually, I was just trying to be nice. You're incredibly infuriating most of time. How Pepper puts up with you, I'll never know."

"That's the power of love." He smiled.

"But seriously, why are you here?"

Tony sat up properly on her couch. "I was bored." He shrugged. "Wondered if you had anything I could do? Maybe reconfigure your security system, optimise your computers for peak performance," he paused, "let me take apart a copy machine, anything really?"

Melinda rolled her eyes. "You need to find some way of entertaining yourself when work is slow, Stark."

"I'm trying, that's what I'm trying to do." Tony flicked the Rubix cube-thing up his arm and caught it with one hand. "It's fine on evenings, and the weekends, because I've got my little boy to hang with, but I get lonely when he and Pep are gone all day."

Mel felt for him, she really did. All that time before Skye had moved in, after Nat and Bobbi had flown the nest, had been a pretty lonely time for her, and she always had Phil. She couldn't imagine what it must be like for Stark, alone in that huge house of his all day.

"Well, I don't have any work for you." She said, leaning back in her chair. Tony had known Bobbi and Hunter for years, he would be interested in knowing about their recent nuptials. "But I've got some news that might be of interest for you."

"You're pregnant?"

"What?" Mel felt the colour drain from her face. "No. No."

He sniggered. "Calm down, I'm only teasing, Mels. God knows you've got enough kids to last you a lifetime already."

"Yeah."

"So go on, what's this news?"

"Oh." Melinda took another sip of tea in an attempt to appear nonchalant. "Bobbi and Hunter got married."

Tony Stark speechless was a rare thing, but apparently, this was the news to cause it. He gaped at her.

"No. Freaking. Way."

"My reaction was not too far from that." She muttered.

"Wait," Tony seemed to recover from his shock, "you didn't know?"

"Nope. They kept it totally secret."

He smiled. "Good on them. That's how you do it. None of this fancy, ornate crap, just two people who love each other and a dose of spontaneity."

"You know, Tony, you're the only person to make me feel like them getting secretly married is actually a positive thing." Melinda was surprised by his sentiment.

"People forget that marriage isn't about parties, or dresses, or food, or even, much to your chagrin, your family. Marriage is about the people getting married, and Bobbi and Hunter, well, apparently they realised that."

"Yeah," Mel mused, "I guess they did."

Tony's phone made a weird little chime and he glanced down at the screen with a smirk. The smirk quickly transformed into a look of sheer horror and he looked back up to Mel with a contorted expression.

"You've got kids, how do you have the sex talk with an almost ten year old without scaring him for life?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Mel smiled.

"Pep says we need to have the 'talk' with Grant." Tony glanced at his phone again. "Apparently he's had lots of questions about pregnancy or something." He was tapping away at the screen even as he spoke to Melinda.

She tapped her nails against her mug. "Pregnancy questions, huh?"

The phone made another chime. "You might want to have a talk with your kid, too because she's the one instigating he conversation according to Pep."

Melinda put a discreet hand on her stomach. "Great. I'll be sure to talk with her."

A/N: Please do leave a review. It makes my day, if not week, month, year...you get the point- I enjoy reading them. :D

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