Growing Up

6 Years Old

This was inspired by the attached post, but I did change quite a bit.  It's just there to show you who I got the idea from.  It's shorter than usual, but it's cute.  At least, I think it is.  Enjoy!

Peter was busy at the counter when Natasha walked into the penthouse at the top of Stark Tower. According to Tony, he'd only been alone for a few minutes since he'd had to leave for work, but Peter was clearly too interested in what he was working on to get up to any trouble. Despite not having known him for too long, he seemed like a good kid and Natasha knew she wouldn't mind watching him for a few hours. Besides, she was getting paid by both Stark and SHIELD for it when Peter was already easy enough to entertain.

After an hour of not hearing anything from Peter, Natasha got up to see what was going on. He was still in the kitchen and when she walked in to see what he was doing, she found Peter humming to himself as he coloured with crayons. He had a larger drawing pad under his paper to prevent crayon from getting on the countertop and looked very serious about his artwork. His nose was so close to the paper Natasha was sure he could smell the crayon.

"What are you up to, Peter?" Natasha asked, walking over to stand behind him.

With a wide smile, he looked up at her and pointed to his drawing.

"I drew the Avengers!" he said happily. He turned back to his drawing and pointed at a figure drawn with black crayon and red frizz near the top of the black body. "Look! I drew you but your arms are crossed because you're mad at all the other Avengers for being annoying!"

Natasha couldn't stop the smile that crept up on her face or the way that her throat tightened. As Peter looked at her with so much joy, pointing to the poorly scribbled creature he claimed was her, she doubted she had ever met a kid so perfect.

"Do you like it?" Peter asked.

Natasha nodded and swallowed thickly, running her fingers through his hair.

"It's great," she told him. If possible, Peter beamed even more then held up the picture for her to take.

"You can have it!"

Natasha took it from him with a smile, then hugged him. He hugged her back then squirmed off the kitchen stool and pulled her into the living room.

"We should watch a movie," he said.

Natasha didn't object, too wrapped up in processing the thought that Peter had taken the time to draw her a picture and was now curled up beside her. There was no reason Peter should like her, but he did, so it was right then and there that Natasha made him a silent promise: no bad thing would happen to him as long as she lived.