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Natasha had been coloring for most of the afternoon when Pepper sets down a plate of sandwiches (with the crusts cut off) and a sippy cup of juice in front of her. Her eyebrows knitted together at something she didn't know on the plate, cold and wet and yellow. "Mommy, what this?" she holds it up to Pepper who had taken a seat on the couch. She smiles secretively and sips her tea, "A slice of lemon. Go ahead and try it."
Natasha eyes the object before hesitantly putting the jelly like side in her mouth, recoiling when her taste buds were flooded with the lemony flavor. She pulls a face and sputters before putting the slice down. "Sour, mommy." she states, a lace of worry in her voice.
"Aw, I'm sorry baby." She strokes her face affectionately before pulling out a tablet,"I couldn’t resist. There's all these videos on the internet of babies tasting lemon for the first time, see." She shows her a compilation of YouTube videos devoted to the subject. Natasha giggles, light and childish, then yawns and rests her head on Pepper's knee. Pepper pets her hair absently as she pulls out some documents she needs to review and kisses her temple before announcing that it's naptime. Natasha only whines a little bit cause she's actually kind tired, and Pepper gets her pacifier and Bunny. She cuddles up to Pepper and pillows her head on her breast, thumb replacing the silicone teat fairly quickly, her being a thumb sucker at heart.
Pepper turns on the TV because she knows Natasha sleeps better with background noise, and one of their obscure and rare Russian versions of Doctor Snuggles, a gift from Agent Coulson, starts running.
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Natasha wakes up to having her diaper checked; and to find that mommy had been replaced by daddy Clint.
"Mornin', sleepyhead. Someone's wet."
She blushes and buries her head in his chest; Clint always seemed to enjoy voicing what state her diaper was in, and it made her feel very little.
He smiles at her reaction before looking around the room; eyes settling on daddy Steve.
"Hey Steve-o, will you put her down on the changing pad for me?"
Clint had received a mild back injury from working in the field a few weeks back and had been banned from lifting heavy objects. After all, Clint is no super soldier or god of thunder; and despite Natasha's petite stature her weight is a strain in the fittest of arms.
"Sure," Steve replies and comes over, coos and nuzzles her face before putting her down on the changing pad laid out on the floor. Steve gets wipes and baby powder out of her diaper bag and hands it to Clint when prompted. Clint cleans and diapers her expertly, lines up the back a little bit higher than the front, tapes up the two bottom tabs before the top ones, left, right, left, right.
All the while Steve is talking to Natasha soothingly, pets her hair and holds her feet up when needed. He helps Clint close all the many snaps on her footie pajamas and pats her padded crotch, announcing that she's "All done, baby."
Clint reads her a story, Steve listening in on the sidelines, and she giggles when he does the funny voices and sounds. "Daddy's silly," she mumbles around her pacifier.
She gets to cuddle daddy Bruce a bit before dinner, they have spaghetti bolognese and it's daddy Tony's turn to feed her. He doesn't do choo choo trains or airplanes like daddy Steve, he does penindrum powered trackle-whizzers and electric wind cars, and she thinks they're more fun.
They all watch Rio before bedtime, but Natasha falls asleep long before the blue parrot realizes his true colors. |
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