𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - aunty em

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 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 to ask Emilia, she would gladly say that Morgan Stark was a little angel.

 Sure... said little angel might have inherited a very stubborn and unmovable trait; picking up things from others... But Emilia had learnt to keep her words as careful as she could, lest they wanted a little girl parading around the cabin and woodlands yelling particularly colourful phrases.

 Now, Pepper Potts was nothing short of protective of her little girl... so when Happy Hogan had made the suggestion that while they were away at a conference, Morgan could be dropped to the Sanctum Santorum and remain in the care of two powerful individuals, Pepper had almost felt her heart stutter and fail.

 She'd seen the Sanctum, for Pepper had been the one to gather up Emilia's things when she hadn't been able to face the ghosts walking the grounds. Pepper had seen harmless trinkets and dusty old paintings... but she'd also seen weapons and traps lining the walls. She'd seen glistening swords and pointed spears... she was certain that she had even spied an axe.

 Morgan Stark had extremely sticky fingers, and the Sanctum would have given her mischievous little self far too many pointy things to play with.

 So... while Pepper and Happy were away, Emilia had settled back within a far too familiar space; the Stark cabin. As ever it was filled with clutter; old papers that Tony had left behind were still in their places, and his tapes and CDs which he had always refused to toss even despite having F.R.I.D.A.Y blast his music, were right on the shelves Tony had slotted them upon.

 Morgan was happy enough to sit before the television with a few toys surrounding her, namely a few Avengers figurines — figurines that Emilia had brought her just to spite Tony after he'd been particularly sarcastic and annoying one day. She very pointedly made sure to buy a Captain America one... and not an Iron Man one. He had sulked for hours.

 "I've never known a child to just... be silent." Stephen muttered, eyes narrowed upon Morgan as she happily chittered away to herself. Her hands moved through the air, bringing Cap higher and higher as her imagination envisioned him being tossed high into the sky by an enemy... then... he toppled to the ground with a lovely clatter. Like father like daughter, Stephen supposed.

 Emilia simply hummed. Her legs were tucked beneath her on the couch, head leaning against Stephen's shoulder as her eyes lingered on the grin dusting Morgan's features. She was always like that, just happy to get on with things whilst her imagination ran wild. She concocted ideas with as much ease as her father had, and it was abundantly clear that she would follow in his footsteps when the time came.

 Though Emilia knew once she grew bored, they'd soon have to conjure their magic and tell stories of places they'd been and monsters they'd fought just to keep her satisfied. It was something Morgan always demanded, and something Emilia was more than happy to comply with.

 "She likes being busy," Emilia responded. She was so much like Tony that it was almost frightening, "Can never keep her hands still."

 The television continued on in the background; some broadcast about how people were still recovering from the blip, how people who had been brought back were... struggling. Some had returned to new families in their homes. Some returned to find their homes had been destroyed... Emilia switched the channel, landing upon some documentary about whales. She'd much rather learn fruitless facts about marine life than hear her name, as well as the Avengers, brought up once more.

 They were usually kind words when regarded to herself, praising her dedication to helping people... but Emilia always felt an odd sense of nausea when the news focused on her, rather than the people she was only trying to help.

 "Em?" Morgan's voice chimed as she rather haphazardly tossed a figure of the Hulk across the floor. It rolled and rolled until it bumped into the television stand, " Sorry Bruce! —" Morgan giggled and swiftly scurried towards the couch. Her fingers tugged at Emilia's, "Can we sit by the lake?"

 Emilia glanced to the side, watching as rainfall trickled at pettered against the widow pane, "Morgan, it's raining."

 A pout appeared, "You're magic." Then she poked Stephen's leg, she'd very quickly grown comfortable with him around, "So are you."

 There was a silent stare-off for a moment, and Stephen truly couldn't decipher who would win. The littlest Stark who was clearly as stubborn as her late father, or his fiance... the woman who managed to bring even his ego to nothing more than a dull spark ready to be snuffed out entirely.

 Emilia groaned and soon enough her fingers were wriggling through the air, scuttling over Morgan's sides. The little girl squealed and shrieked, dissolving into a puddle of giggles and tears.

 "Fine," Emilia relented, for it seemed rather impossible to say no to the wide-eyed child squirming beneath her touch, "Let's go and get sick and gross and sopping wet. But if your mother tells me off, I'm telling Bruce that you threw the Hulk."

 "Deal."

 The lake's surface was disturbed. The usual silence that seemed to flitter across the water was smothered by bubbling ripples. The patter of rain was rather comforting, and while the three of them could feel a slight breeze even through their coats, Emilia had, in fact, sheltered them all from the rain falling down from high above.

 A little glaze of blue jittered above them, appearing and disappearing with every second, yet not a single dewdrop soaked into their skin.

 Morgan was happily poking at the water with a stick she'd found, while Emilia leaned herself against Stephen, hoping to steal his warmth all for herself.

 Stephen had been mostly silent, yet even he couldn't help the animated rise of his brows whenever Morgan would turn and grin at them both. He's been... rather intrigued to see just how much Emilia and Morgan seemed to care for one another.

 "So," Stephen spoke, his voice low and baritone as usual, "Aunty Em?"

 Emilia smiled and the curve of her lips was tugged higher by nothing but pure fondness, "Tony slipped when Morgan was just a couple of months old. She kept trying to reach me, I think he said something like 'really? You want boring Aunty Em, not your brilliant, amazing, genius of a dad?' Morgan blew a raspberry in his face."

 "I'm liking her better with every story you tell." He leaned closer, lips almost touching her ear, "She has excellent taste." He sealed his words off with a kiss to her chilly cheek, planting it right atop the cold-bitten rose that had spread over her flesh.

 The sensation of his warm breath trailing across her skin was enough to force a shiver down her spine, combatting the chill that echoed throughout the air. Morgan still splashed her stick in the water, poking at globs of mud and old leaves, her pink and glittery wellies covered in a thick layer of sloppy dirt.

 Emilia felt rather... at ease. To have Stephen by her side after he'd very surprisingly agreed to join her babysitting escapades, and to have Morgan simply happy enough to be in their presence; it was peaceful... and that was something that came into their lives so very scarcely.

 Emilia stooped her gaze, watching dewdrops steadily gather atop blades of grass, each of them toppling forth when the water became far too heavy... then, Stephen's voice broke her out of her stupor.

 "Morgan!" He called, and without a single command, the cloak that never left his side barreled from his shoulders and swiftly pluck Morgan from the ground. She'd almost toppled into the lake. Stephen blinked, a heavy breath escaping him... he looked about ready to give in to a heart attack.

 But Morgan only laughed, a bright giggle splitting the sky as she bounced atop the cloak, "Testing you!"

 Stephen's left eye twitched, "I hate children."

 "Mhm, sure."

 "I do."

 Emilia bobbed her head, an incredulous brow claiming the length of her forehead, "Of course, I believe you."

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DATE: 30/04/2023

:･ﾟ★I just NEEDED to write this. the thought of Em and Stephen babysitting together is adorable. 

this is the FINAL oneshot for this act, now onto a prolonged break while i write for some other stories. but we will be back, as no way home will be next.

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