Natasha felt a swell of emotions as she thought about it. A little girl. Would she have her mother’s curls or her father’s straight here? Would her eyes be blue? Green? Would she be strong and brave and adventurous?

Looking down at their entwined hands on her belly, Natasha felt her eyes starting to sting with the overwhelming emotions. It didn’t matter, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that she have a better childhood than either of her parents. It was easy to do better than Clint’s, but Natasha’s... she had had parents that loved her once. It wasn’t until she had lost them that her she lost all that love and innocence, and considering her and Clint’s profession, that was a very real possibility for their child as well if things didn’t change.

What were they going to do?

They had time to worry about that later. Right now she had to try her best to keep the worrying to a minimum, at least until they were well out of the danger zone.

“And spoiled no matter what,” she said with the hint of a smirk. Setting her mug aside, she moved her free hand now to Clint’s head, fingers moving gently through his hair again.