**Chapter 2: Spitfire**
Natasha Romanoff had faced down more villains than she could count. She'd gone undercover in some of the most dangerous places in the world, dismantled criminal organizations from the inside, and held her own against gods and monsters. But nothing—nothing—had prepared her for the horror of baby spit-up.
It started innocently enough. After corralling her pint-sized teammates into some semblance of order, Natasha had settled on the couch, holding Baby Clint Barton in her lap. Clint, for all his mischievousness, had finally started to calm down. He was snuggled against her, his little fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as he let out a contented sigh. It was a rare quiet moment in what had been a chaotic morning.
She looked around the room, taking stock of the situation. Baby Tony was back at his block tower, now with Baby Steve helping him arrange the blocks in neat rows. Steve seemed to have accepted his role as Tony's second-in-command, occasionally offering a block with a serious expression, as if it were a matter of national security. Tony, for his part, seemed to appreciate the help, giving Steve a toothy grin every time he handed over a block.
Baby Thor, after much coaxing, had finally decided to settle down. He was sitting on the floor nearby, happily gnawing on his stuffed hammer. The makeshift Mjolnir had become his new favorite toy, and he was content to sit there, drooling slightly as he chewed on the plush handle.
Baby Bruce, still the most peaceful of the group, was quietly paging through his picture book, now seated next to Natasha on the couch. He seemed lost in the simple joy of flipping the pages, his small face lit up with curiosity every time he found a new picture.
Natasha allowed herself a moment of calm, savoring the quiet. She could almost pretend that everything was normal—that she wasn't in charge of a group of super-powered toddlers, that the Avengers hadn't been temporarily reduced to a daycare in Stark Tower. But that moment of peace was abruptly shattered.
Without warning, Baby Clint made a strange noise, somewhere between a hiccup and a cough. Natasha glanced down just in time to see his face scrunch up in discomfort. Before she could react, Clint let out a gurgling sound and promptly spit up all over her.
The warm, sticky mess landed squarely on Natasha's black jumpsuit, spreading across her chest in a way that made her cringe. For a split second, she just stared at the mess, her mind trying to process what had just happened. Of all the things she'd faced in her life, this was perhaps the most unexpected.
Clint, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed by the incident. He looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, as if nothing at all had happened. In fact, he seemed rather pleased with himself, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Natasha took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. "Okay, Barton," she muttered under her breath, "I guess we're going to need a change of clothes."
She carefully shifted Clint in her arms, holding him away from the worst of the mess as she stood up. As she moved toward the hallway, where she knew there were spare clothes in the guest rooms, she couldn't help but catch the amused glance Baby Tony was giving her from across the room. Even in his toddler form, Tony Stark had the nerve to smirk at her misfortune.
Natasha shot him a look that could melt steel. "Don't even think about it, Stark," she warned, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that she was currently covered in baby spit-up.
Tony just giggled, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious. Even Baby Steve seemed to be suppressing a smile, though he quickly returned to his block tower when Natasha's gaze fell on him.
With Clint still in her arms, Natasha headed toward the guest room where she kept some spare clothes. As she walked, she couldn't help but talk to the tiny archer in her arms. "You know, Barton, when you're back to normal, I'm never letting you live this down. You might be an ace shot, but you're also officially the first Avenger to spit up on a fellow teammate."
Clint just babbled in response, his little hands reaching up to grab a lock of her hair. Natasha smiled despite herself, gently detangling his fingers from her hair. There was something disarming about how completely innocent and unaware he was of the chaos he caused.
In the guest room, she quickly found a clean shirt and set Clint down on the bed while she changed. Clint watched her with wide eyes, his tiny legs kicking in the air as he lay on his back. Once she was dressed, Natasha grabbed a baby wipe from the changing table—thankfully, Stark Tower had been stocked with everything she needed—and wiped Clint's mouth and hands. He squirmed a bit but seemed to enjoy the attention, letting out a soft coo as she cleaned him up.
"There, all clean," Natasha said, scooping him up again. Clint snuggled into her shoulder, seemingly content after his impromptu spit-up session. Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of affection for the little guy. He might have just ruined her favorite jumpsuit, but there was no denying that he was adorable.
She carried Clint back to the living room, where the others were still engrossed in their various activities. Baby Tony had managed to build a surprisingly intricate tower out of the blocks, with Steve's help, and was now carefully placing the final piece on top. Baby Thor had fallen asleep, his stuffed hammer clutched tightly in his arms, while Baby Bruce had moved on to a new book.
Natasha sat down on the couch again, cradling Clint in her arms. "You know, Barton," she said softly, "I think you might be the biggest troublemaker of them all."
Clint responded by letting out a small yawn, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled closer to her. Natasha smiled, gently patting his back as he drifted off to sleep. As chaotic as this situation was, there was something undeniably heartwarming about it too.
With Clint asleep in her arms and the others finally quiet, Natasha allowed herself to relax. She leaned back against the couch, watching over her tiny team with a mixture of amusement and affection. This wasn't how she expected to spend her day, but there were worse things than babysitting the Avengers.
As she closed her eyes for just a moment, she couldn't help but wonder how they would all react when they returned to their normal selves. One thing was for sure: she'd have a lot of stories to tell.
