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Heroes
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Restaurant Floor, Avengers' Private Express Elevator Hall.
As the soft hum of Sam's elevator faded, another one arrived, signaling a shift in the atmosphere.
The Rogers stepped out together, radiating a charm befitting their legendary roles. Moving with the effortless grace of a ballerina, Natasha's goddess-like presence outshone Megara's charm. Draped in a translucent lavender stole, her flowing gown shimmered in the light, subtly showcasing her toned, athletic frame — a testament to years of rigorous training. In her caring arms, James was comfortably dressed in a Baby Hercules-inspired orange onesie, complete with a hood adorned with golden curls. Beside them, Steve's Olympian physique embodied the very essence of Hercules himself. Yet the props on his costume, crafted from lightweight plastic with a bronze finish, were perfectly safe for a children's party. A sword hung at his side, while a round, intricately designed shield rested against his left arm.
Majestic in his Pegasus costume, their Central Asian Shepherd, Sneg, followed closely. His thick white coat accentuated his imposing 176-pound frame. A small padded seat, nestled between foam-feathered wings, rested on his broad back, offering a safe and comfortable perch for little ones to pose for pictures.
The next elevator brought the Bartons, whose joy infectiously brightened the hallway.
Clint's whimsical Cupid costume was perfectly matched by his expression — a blend of amusement and resignation. His one-shoulder purple tunic hugged his chest, emphasizing his toned build. Oversized angelic wings and a quiver of plastic heart-tipped arrows slung across his back completed his over-the-top look. With understated elegance, Bobbi embodied Psyche in a sea-green mini dress, her purple sash perfectly complementing her husband's attire. Delicate, translucent butterfly wings fluttered lightly as she carried Francis, who was dressed in an Eros onesie with tiny wings and soft little heart-shaped arrows, adding an extra touch of whimsy to the scene.
The men approached each other with teasing smiles.
"I can't believe you're doing this," Clint joked, his mischievous grin widening as he closed the distance.
"I can't believe you actually caved," Steve smirked as they hugged.
The Archer gave a playful tug at Hercules' fitted tunic. "Nice skirt. Bet it's breezy."
"Right back at you," the Soldier retorted, flicking the edge of Cupid's one-shoulder tunic. "At least we've got shorts for modesty."
Their laughter echoed through the hall as they struck exaggerated poses, poking fun at each other.
After the silliness ebbed, a flicker of quiet reflection crossed their faces. Their partnership had been forged in fire, starting three years earlier in the chaotic aftermath of the Battle of New York, when Hawkeye grappled with guilt over the atrocities he'd committed under Loki's mind control. Captain America's unshakable support helped him return to SHIELD without fear of judgment. In return, the experienced Archer guided the biologically younger but old-fashioned Soldier through the complexities of modern life — from navigating SHIELD's endless bureaucracy to the surreal world of billionaire Stark. Their partnership deepened over time, strengthened through shared missions and boy's nights out. While Clint often found female company, Steve remained alone — his heart already secretly claimed by the enigmatic Russian Spy. Though vastly different in style and personality, their mutual love for Natasha — each in their own way — had cemented their friendship.
Leaning in, the Archer rested his hand lightly on the toy shield. "You miss the real one?" he asked. His voice softened, the teasing edge fading into sincerity.
The Soldier glanced down at the prop, which was nothing compared to the vibranium disc that had defined him for so long. "I miss the feel of it sometimes," he admitted. "But it's where it belongs. Bucky's earned it, and he's doing great."
After being acquitted of the crimes he had committed as the Winter Soldier, James Barnes promised to dedicate his life to serving the common good — officially assuming the position of Captain America at Steve's request.
"He is," Clint agreed with a nod. "And Commander Rogers suits you better anyway. Besides, no one else I'd trust to run things from the top."
The Soldier smiled at the compliment, patting his friend on the shoulder. "You ever regret taking the desk job? Backing me up?"
"No. Never."
"Don't you miss being out in the field?"
Shrugging, the Archer spun the toy weapon absentmindedly. "Alright, maybe sometimes. I miss the fun we had — the chaos, the team. But…" He glanced toward their wives and children nearby, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Guess we've got more important things to protect these days."
"Right on target, as always. Nothing's worth leaving the kids unattended."
"Nope, not a chance."
The mention of 'kids' struck a deeper chord, a quiet reminder of what bound them beyond friendship. They didn't often speak of their childhoods, but both carried the scars of growing up without fathers they could lean on or learn from. Steve's father had died in WWI before he was born, while Clint's had been an abusive alcoholic who crashed his car, killing himself and his wife when the boy was just seven years old. Both Avengers had found solace, however briefly, in the love of their grandfathers — whose untimely deaths also left wounds that never fully healed. Unknowingly, the two new fathers had become the kind of male support for one another that they'd lacked growing up.
Recognized as heroes by many, they were about to face one of the greatest challenges for 'simple' men — becoming heroes in the eyes of their own children. Bound by honor and duty, and a fierce devotion to their families, they shared an unspoken determination: neither would risk leaving their children without the love and support of a father. As Zeus had said in the animated movie, "For a true hero isn't measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart."
Lifting the fake shield in mock defense, the Soldier teased. "So, what do you think? Should we bring these outfits to our next sparring session?"
"Shut up!" the Archer hissed through gritted teeth, shooting a nervous glance around. "These walls have ears… don't give Stark more ideas!"
JARVIS spoke through the speakers, his calm tone as polite as ever. "While the walls do not, in fact, have ears, I assure you, Mr. Barton, all conversations remain private — even from Master Stark."
Their laughter erupted again, a brief reprieve that transported them to memories of past battles. Though no longer on the frontlines, the two Avengers occasionally put on a show in the HQ's packed auditorium, their sparring sessions serving as reminders of the teamwork that once saved the world. A complete success. Beneath the banter and smiles, their camaraderie and mutual respect remained unshaken — unspoken, yet undeniable.
One year ago, at the direct request of President Matthew Ellis and the World Security Council, Steve Rogers had accepted the monumental responsibility of leading SHIELD — but only under one condition: "I'll do it my way."
As Executive Director, he had made significant strides in restructuring the agency into an independent global counter-terrorism and intelligence organization, dedicated to protecting humanity from threats too great for any single nation to face alone.
Though there was more to accomplish, he had already assembled the best team of experts for each division — trusted advisors he could rely on. As his effective second-in-command, Natasha, now Deputy Director, oversaw Strategic Operations, managing intelligence, IT, and cybersecurity. When whispers of nepotism arose, Fury swiftly silenced them, revealing that he had offered his number one agent — Romanoff — the position long before Steve's appointment. As Director Emeritus, the older spy continued to work behind the scenes, offering invaluable guidance — and meddling whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hill retained her role as Deputy Director, focusing on Administrative Services — the logistical and organizational backbone of the agency. With her scientific expertise and extensive field experience, Morse had quickly proven indispensable, securing her recent appointment as Head of Scientific Affairs. Meanwhile, Coulson, now Senior Advisor, continued to offer wisdom and support while leading his specialized strike unit aboard the Bus.
Clint had become indispensable as Steve's right-hand man. Once a lone marksman, he had grown into a key member of the Avengers and, ultimately, an irreplaceable leader. Beyond his unmatched field experience and unparalleled sharpshooting, he possessed a rare talent for perceiving what others missed — identifying threats, spotting patterns, and anticipating the unexpected. He wasn't just the natural choice for the role; he was the ideal one. As Head of Tactical Operations, Barton now commanded SHIELD's formidable force of three thousand agents, overseeing everything from training and management to deploying teams for elite, high-risk, or routine missions. His responsibilities extended far beyond ensuring operational success — his top priority was the safety of every operative under his command. After all, that was one of Commander Rogers' unshakable rules: no one gets left behind.
Meanwhile, the women shared warm smiles as they greeted one another.
"Did you make him wear it?" Bobbi whispered.
Natasha shook her head. "No. Did you?"
"Me neither."
They exchanged a knowing glance, mouthing in perfect unison, "They did it for the babies." Turning, they admired their husbands in those silly outfits, pride swelling in their chests.
"You know what? Clint even looks good," the Redhead mused.
"Steve always does," the blonde flashed a playful grin, "but the costumes turned out even better than I expected."
"They really did."
"And girl, you look incredible."
"So do you. The dress is perfect."
"Yours too, but I find mine too short."
"No way. You've got killer legs," Natasha praised before taking a step back. "What do you think? Do I look fatter?"
"Nope. The girls look amazing." Bobbi assured her with a wink. "But these costumes are too fancy for a children's party, don't you think? We look more like live-action characters straight out of animation," she chuckled.
"That's Pepper for you. She doesn't do anything halfway."
"It's like they say — money can't buy happiness. But it sure can get it delivered."
The two women burst into quiet giggles, and the Redhead added, "With Pepper, everything comes with her heart and a touch of perfection."
"I know. Still… I'm feeling a little silly."
"Me too. But after going so long without dressing up, I'm just happy to do it."
"You're right. Let's enjoy it."
"Guess there is life after motherhood after all."
"Let's just hope we don't turn back into pumpkins before the party's over," the blonde teased, and the two laughed again.
For years, Hawkeye and Black Widow — the legendary Strike Team Delta — had been constantly surrounded by nasty gossip. Natasha's sharp fists and even sharper tongue always fended off unwanted advances, leaving fewer agents willing to work with the duo. Without ever becoming emotionally attached to anyone, Clint let the rumors circulate to protect her from harassment and prevent her from scaring off more agents.
However, when Hawkeye met Mockingbird, their passion was undeniable. Even though Clint denied all the rumors, Bobbi couldn't help but feel jealous. Everything changed when she saw Black Widow kiss Captain America in front of everyone at SHIELD and began to understand the Spy's true place in the Archer's heart — not as a lover, but as a sister, his only family.
Over time, animosity softened into trust, and what started as a rivalry between the two most important women in Clint's life turned into genuine friendship.
Pregnant within months of each other, Bobbi and Natasha formed an even stronger connection that only mothers of Avengers' children could understand. From the daily joys and uncertainties of creating life to the ever-present fear that their superheroes' enemies might target them — or, worse yet, their babies — the two seasoned SHIELD agents bonded through shared strength and vulnerability.
As the only one with a 'normal' childhood, Bobbi became an anchor for both couples, grounding them with cherished stories of her parents, siblings, uncles, cousins, and grandparents — offering a glimpse of how families could grow, evolve, and coexist.
Now, their sons were being raised side by side, each boy becoming an extension of the other's family — bound not just by friendship, but by love.
In his mother's arms, Francis eagerly stretched his arms to his godmother, captivated by her bright red hair.
"Come here, little Cupid! You're even cuter than I imagined," Natasha said with a warm smile.
With maternal ease, they swapped their sons, and each took a moment to cuddle the other's baby.
Francis squirmed with excitement, reaching out to grab the Redhead's wig. "Easy there, Францушка," she chuckled, gently swaying her golden pendant to distract him, and he released her hair with a giggle.
"He loves when you call him Frantsushka!" Bobbi said and the baby giggled again. "He'll end up learning Russian that way."
Natasha's smile widened as she pressed a soft kiss to his chubby cheeks and repeated "Францушка, мой ангел," coaxing another giggle.
The blonde cooed softly to her nephew. "And you're the most adorable baby Hercules ever!" Much shyer than Francis had been at the same age, James was often wary of others but adored his favorite aunt. She studied his necklace with curiosity. "This medal doubles as a teether, right? Just like the soft arrows on Francis' costume." She laughed softly. "How clever is that?"
"Auntie Pepper thought of everything!" the Redhead grinned.
Watching their wives with their sons, the fathers were in absolute awe.
"I know it seems impossible, but you just keep getting more beautiful," Steve said fondly as he approached to greet Bobbi.
Blushing slightly, she quickly returned the compliment, "You're the one who's gonna turn heads, Herc."
"Hey, birdie! What about me?" her husband protested with mock jealousy, frowning as he posed, flexing his toned arms.
"You're gonna steal hearts, Cupid," she quipped, patting him on the behind playfully. They all laughed.
"Yours is the only one I'm interested in," Clint winked at his wife, and she blew him a kiss. Then, kissing Natasha on the cheek, he said proudly, "You look stunning, little sis."
Since Francis was born, he had unofficially adopted his best friend as his sister. That's how he introduced her to Bobbi's family at the boy's christening, where the Rogers stood proudly as the godparents.
That nickname always melted her heart, and she said with a playful smile, "I was telling your wife… You do look hot."
"Yes! I knew it!" he exclaimed, and laughter erupted again.
When the mothers approached each other, Francis reached out with surprising dexterity, brushing James' foot before giving it a playful tug. The younger boy blinked in surprise, then kicked lightly, his cooing laughter spilling over like music. The two babies shared a quiet, joyful moment, their faces lighting up as if they were sharing a private joke only they understood. The women cooed in unison.
"Look at that!" Clint exclaimed, watching their interaction with pride.
"Already bonding like best buddies," Steve agreed, satisfaction evident in his voice.
"JARVIS, did you get it?"
"Everything was recorded, Mrs. Rogers."
Seizing the moment, they began posing for the AI that took photos and videos of each family. Just the mothers with their children, the babies with Sneg, and even silly poses with them playing their parts — the couples with heart arrows. The most challenging — yet most entertaining — part was holding both boys at once, ensuring Francis didn't tamper with their costumes. In a moment of distraction, Mini-Hawkeye reached for his dad's quiver, nearly dismantling Cupid's entire arsenal. The chaos only added to the laughter, and soon the 7-month-old was giggling in delight as his godfather held him aloft, pretending he was soaring through the air.
"Hold him higher!" Clint called out, cradling James nearby.
Sneg barked excitedly, his Pegasus wings flapping comically as Natasha and Bobbi stood by, their laughter ringing with happiness.
"Don't you dare drop my son, Steve," the mother warned with mock sternness, though her smile gave her away.
JARVIS recorded all the adorable moments, storing everything in each couple's encrypted private files — just like anything related to their personal lives, especially the babies.
With their families ready, the mothers made the final adjustments to the fathers' and the boys' costumes, preparing them for the much-anticipated grand entrance. With Sneg growing restless, they motioned for him to go ahead.
"You guys look amazing," Bobbi encouraged. "They'll be jealous."
Natasha added with a small smirk, "Just ignore any teasing."
The two men exchanged a look. After years of fighting side by side and surviving countless dangerous missions, they were about to face an entirely new challenge.
Steve turned to Clint. "Ready?"
"Nope. Let's do it."
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Author's note: Thanks for reading! Writing is a solitary endeavor, a true labor of love. It's only through feedback that we can grow and find motivation. Your thoughts mean the world to me, so please leave a comment.
Russian: Францушка (Frantsushka) diminutive form of Francis. мой ангел (moy angel) my angel.
REFERENCES:
FANFICTION: Chris Crush (Avengers), by ym4yum1, Chapter 6 "The Specimen" — Steve & Clint's sparring session.
MARVEL COMICS: New Avengers Vol 1 (2006) #21 — [Steve] Three thousand agents of SHIELD on active duty…
Siege Vol 1 (2010) #4 — [President] Steve Rogers, Captain… I'm asking you to answer the call. (…) I am saying, right now, the world needs you. (…) [Steve] I'm going to want to do it my way.
MOVIES: Hercules (1997) — [Zeus] For a true hero isn't measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart.
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