"You're sure that you'll be alright with them?" Natasha questioned as Steve practically shoved her out the front door.

"Yes, Nat, we'll be fine. You just go out and enjoy yourself," Steve insisted. Natasha needed a day to herself—that much was obvious. She had been on a particularly strenuous mission with Clint a few days ago, and had come home to rambunctious, mentally and physically exhausting six-year-olds. Needless to say, she needed a day with no responsibilities.

"But—" she started to protest.

"Steve, I don't feel right doing this. Dumping the kids on you while I'm out doing whatever."

"Natasha, you could never dump the kids on me, they're mine too, and I want to give you a day to yourself. Trust me, you deserve it," Steve persisted.

"I really don't," she said quietly.

"You really do," Steve countered. "That's why you're going to have a spa day with Pepper," ironically, a moment later, Pepper pulled into their driveway. Well, Happy pulled into the driveway, to be more specific.

"Steve, this is completely unnecessary."

"I know. But I want this for you. So please, go out and enjoy yourself; for me," he added. "I'll hold down the fort here," now he really was herding her out the door.

"Okay, okay, fine," she relented with a smirk. "But if anything, and I mean anything happens, you better call me. And don't destroy my house."

"Yes, ma'am. Now go," Steve flashed her a confident smile as she got in the car and he closed the front door.

It wasn't that Natasha didn't trust Steve alone with their kids. No, it wasn't the fact that he usually gave him the benefit of the doubt. Natasha knew that when she wasn't around, Steve had a tendency to let things slide; especially with his daughter. Lucy knew just how to play him, and James always seemed to have the perfect excuse.

"I can practically hear you worrying," Pepper interrupted Natasha's thoughts without even looking up from her phone.

"I'm trying, okay?" the other woman paused before muttering "no promises" under her breath.

"Hi, Daddy," Lucy said sweetly as she entered the living room. Steve was seated on the sofa, intently focused on finishing a last mission report. "Can you play with me, please?"

"Hey sweetheart," Steve looked up with a smile for his daughter. "I would love to play with you, but I can't until I finish this last thing for work. Why don't you go ask James to play with you until I'm done?"

Lucy sighed audibly to show her discontent. "Fine. But we need to play when you're done." Lucy turned and ran off down the hall before Steve even had a chance to reply. She then flung the door to James' room wide open. The blond boy was lying on his bed, happily reading a book about dinosaurs. "James, will you play dolls with me?" Lucy asked, causing James to look up from his books.

"I don't want to play dolls," he replied casually, returning to his reading.

Lucy climbed up onto his bed and nearly tackled him. "Please James. We can play dinosaurs too."

"Lucy, I said no. I don't want to play with you," James guided his sister off the bed. "Now, leave me alone. Please."

Lucy pouted before muttering a "whatever" and storming off into her own room.

Steve smiled as he shut off his tablet. Done, he said to himself. Now he could spend he rest of the day with his children.

"Daddy?" a bleary-eyed Lucy stood into the entrance to the living room.

"Lucy?" Steve stood, concerned. "What's wrong, baby?" Lucy ran into her father, attaching himself to his leg—tears rolling down her little face. "Lucy, what's the matter?" Steve holstered her up before sitting back down on the couch, her in his lap.

She buried her head into his chest before speaking. "James did something mean to me."

"Oh yeah?" Steve questioned. "What did he do?"

"He put gum in my hair," Lucy sobbed before pointing to a pink clump of gum that seemed to be stuck in her strawberry-blond hair.

Steve quickly sat up straight. "He did what?" he questioned in disbelief.

Lucy nodded into his chest and let out another sob. "Daddy, can you fix it," she looked up at her father with big, sad eyes.

She sounded so innocent and helpless to Steve. And he absolutely hated to see her cry. "It's okay, baby, Daddy's going to fix it. But I want to go talk to your brother first. Can you wait here for a few minutes?" Lucy nodded and Steve left her on the couch and soon entered James' room. "James," he announced sternly. James looked up at his father with questioning eyes. "Do you have something that you want to tell me?"

"Uh, no, Daddy," James said, obviously confused.

"Really? Nothing?" James shook his head no. "Nothing like, I don't know, putting gum in your sister's hair?"

"What?" James stood up. "I didn't do that!"

"So you're saying that Lucy put gum in her own hair?"

"I don't know, but I didn't do it, Daddy. I swear," James replied.

"James, if you're going to lie to me, you can just stay in your room. No electronics, no coming out. Do you understand me?" Steve instructed harshly.

"But Dad—" James retorted.

"No but's. I don't want to hear it. And I don't want to see you out of your room until I say so. Am I being clear?"

"Yes, Daddy," James complied.

"Good. Now, I don't want to hear a peep," Steve added before he turned and left his son's room. Honestly, he hated punishing his kids, but he had to show them that he and Natasha were on the same page; that he wasn't always the good guy and to show them that he wasn't against disciplining them like their mother. He hated it now, but he knows that it's for the best in the long run.

After a long sigh, Steve returned his attention to Lucy in the living room.

"Daddy, can you get it out?" Lucy asked with a pout as she sprung up from the couch.

"I'm going to try, baby. I think I just have to cut it out of your hair."

"No, Daddy!" she squealed. "You can't do that!"

"I don't know how else to get it out, Lucy," Steve tried to reason with her. "Do you know how?"

"I don't know," she stated. "Just Google it or something."

"Where did you learn about Google?"

"Uncle Clint and Uncle Tony," she said matter-of-factly.

"We'll talk about that later. Do you think Uncle Tony knows how to get gum out of hair?"

"Dunno. Can you call him and ask?"

Steve picked up his phone and dialed Tony's number.

"Hey, Capsicle, what's up?" the inventor said when he picked up the phone.

"Hey, Tony. I need your help. I'm in a bit of a...sticky situation over here," Steve decided.

"Okay, what do you need?"

"Well James stuck a wad of gum in Lucy's hair. Do you know how to get it out without cutting it?" Steve tried.

"Shouldn't you be calling your wife about this?" Tony implored.

"No way. I barely got her to go out with Pepper today, and I'm not ruining her day now."

"Okay, hang on," Steve heard static for a minute before Tony came back on the line. "Bruce said to try using peanut butter on the gum to slide it out of her hair."

"And is that going to work?" Steve questioned.

"Does the kid still have curly hair?"

"Uh, yeah," Steve looked over to Lucy's hair and how it fell in near-perfect spirals down her back. "It looks just like Natasha's."

"Okay, well then it might not work," Tony said. "But I would give it a shot."

"Alright, thanks Tony. And if Pepper calls, please don't mention it to her."

"No problem, Cap. Ciao," Tony hung up and Steve turned back to Lucy.

"Come on, sweetie, come sit down in the kitchen."

Lucy sat down in a chair at the table. "What are you doing, Daddy?"

"Uncle Tony said that we could use peanut butter to try and get the gum out of your hair." Lucy raised one red eyebrow at the mention of peanut butter. "I know it sounds crazy, but we're going to try it, okay?"

Lucy sighed in the same way that Natasha did when she felt like she was talking to an imbecile. "Okay, Daddy."

Steve walked over to the pantry and took out a jar of peanut butter. As instructed by Tony, he unscrewed the lid, stuck his fingers in the jar, and smeared the glob of peanut butter on the clump of gum in Lucy's hair. He rubbed it in as well as he could, and tried to slide the gum out of her hair. The gum wouldn't budge.

"Ow, Daddy you're hurting me," Lucy complained.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I'm trying to get it out of your hair. It's not working."

Lucy started to cry again. She brought her little hands up to cover her eyes and cried. "I want Mama."

"I know that you want Mama, baby, I know. But she's not here right now, and I'm doing the best that I can," Steve replied. Of course, he wished that Natasha was here, but really, it was his own fault that she wasn't. He sighed loudly. "I'm sorry, Lucy, but I'm gonna have to cut the gum out. The peanut putter isn't working."

"Daddy, no," Lucy cried.

Trying not to drag this out, Steve grabbed a pair of kitchen scissors from a nearby drawer. Lucy continued to cry and carry on as he cut the wad of gum out of her hair as carefully as he could. In reality, it didn't look that bad. You would only notice it if you were looking closely. "There," Steve remarked. "It's out of your hair now." Lucy just nodded her head and continued to softly cry. "Come on Luce, let's get you cleaned up," Steve lifted Lucy (even if she was just a little too old for it) and carried her off for bath time.

A short 40 minutes later, Natasha walked through the front door to her house. Unusually, no one was there to greet her. "Steve?" she questioned, walking into the living room.

"Mama!" Lucy came running from her bedroom and plowed into her mother's legs.

"Oomph," Natasha let slide as Lucy ran into her. "Hi, малышка. I see someone already got a bath."

Lucy nodded her head fiercely. "But that's because James put gum in my hair."

Natasha looked from her daughter up to her husband. "James put gum in your hair?"

"Yeah," Lucy started. "And Daddy had to cut it out. He tried to get it out with peanut butter, but it didn't work."

"Alright, Lucy, where's your brother?"

"Daddy made him stay in his room."

"Okay," Natasha shifted her focus to Steve. "I'm going to go talk to him."

Natasha entered James' room and found him lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "James?"

"Mama," James scurried off his bed and accepted Natasha's hug gratefully.

"You didn't do it, did you?"

"No, Mama, I didn't. Daddy didn't believe me, but I swear that I didn't do it."

"I know you didn't do it," Natasha reassured. "And I'm going to have a serious talk with your sister, don't worry."

"I love you, Mama," James confessed.

God, Natasha loved this little boy more than she ever thought she could. "I love you too, James. So much."

"Mama, can you tell me a story?" Lucy asked as Natasha was tucking her into bed.

"Sure, Lucy. Once upon a time, there was a little girl with red, curly hair. One day, when her Mama wasn't home, she stuck a piece of gum in her own hair and got her twin brother in trouble."

Lucy looked mortified. "Mama, I didn't I promise—"

Natasha cut her off, "Lucy, are you lying to me? And did you lie to your father earlier?"

Lucy's face fell. Natasha knew she wouldn't keep it up forever. She was half Steve's, after all. Still, Natasha was secretly impressed (not that she'd ever admit that to her daughter). "Yes, I put the gum in my own hair and told Daddy that James did it."

"And why did you do it?"

"Because no one would play with me."

"Lucy," Natasha sighed. "You can't do that. You lied, and your brother suffered because of it."

"I'm sorry, Mama," Lucy spoke softly.

"I don't want to hear it right now. We will discuss this and your punishment tomorrow." Natasha pecked a kiss on Lucy's forehead. "Goodnight."

"Do you still love me, Mama?" Lucy asked tentatively.

"Of course, I love you," Natasha replied. "I could never stop loving you. I'm just upset with you right now," Natasha stood up from the bed. "Now goodnight. And I don't want to hear a peep from you all night," Natasha turned and exited Lucy's room, closing the door behind her.

"How did you know?" Steve asked when Natasha entered their bedroom a minute later.

"I could tell she was guilty by the look on her face."

"Nat, I'm sorry. I should've called you. "I just wanted you to have a nice day."

"I did, Steve," she kissed him softly. "Thank you. And don't worry, you handled everything fine. You might have some making up to do the James, though."

Steve chuckled. "I know. Poor kid."

"Don't beat yourself up. Even though, you know, you got played by a six-year-old," Natasha snickered.

"Well, my six-year-old daughter is very much like her mother," Steve smiled before leaning in to kiss her again.

"Touché, Rogers."