Tiny little Tasha 8

Happy Saturday! :D APPLICABLE WARNINGS: This one does mention wetting, and some aspects of AB/DL. Actually that's kind of the whole point to this story but, ya know, details. :P YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Now enjoy! :D

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Chapter 8:

As they reached the tower, Tony was losing his patience with Natasha's incessant babbling about Bubbles and Barbies and Big Bird. In fact, the only reason he hadn't snapped completely was because Steve had threatened to tell  Clint about all the nightmares after the battle of New York that Steve had had to help Tony clean up from.

Bruce on the other hand, was fairly alert after the transformation and was enamored with little Tasha. He promised to show her all the good episodes of Sesame Street when they got back. Finally, as they all piled inside the common room, Natasha began to dance in place.

"Something wrong Tasha?" Bruce asked, seeing her potty dance.

She shook her head stubbornly. "Wanna watch Big Bird!" She whined.

"What's the magic word?" Clint said firmly. 

"Please?"

Bruce nodded and patted her head. "JARVIS, do you mind pulling up some nineties Sesame Street episodes please?" He asked.

The TV flashed on and Natasha smiled and parked herself on the couch, wiggling with her hands in her crotch as she watched. 

None of the "grown ups" noticed though, because they were trying to give CLINT a crash course in parenting a toddler.

"We're gonna have to get toys and probably bars for her bed," Steve said. "And it wouldn't kill you to have some protection until we can sufficiently potty-train her."

"What about eating and drinking and bathing?" Clint asked.

"She'll probably need help with all of it," Bruce said. "We should get some sippy cups and kid-friendly silver wear and plates. Bedtimes need to be set too."

"And house rules!" Tony interjected.

"Tony she's supposed to be about two. As long as we keep her away from the lab she should be-"

Natasha started crying loudly again from the couch, sending all five men running to see what was wrong. "Oh sweetie," Phil cooed, scooping her up when he saw the accident. "It's alright."

"That couch cost-"

"SHUT IT TONY!" Clint roared. "She can't help it!"

"I don't care she's a grown-"

"Enough," Bruce said firmly, which was out of character for him. "Tony she's a small child stuck I the body of an adult. Did you never have accidents growing up?" The silence and blush he was met with prompted Him to continue, "then don't even start. Phil, you and Clint get her in the bath."

"Want Mommy!" Tasha sobbed. 

"Shh, Mommy's at work sweetie," Clint cooed.

"She always comes to visit AFTER work though!" Tasha cried. Clint and Phil exchanged a look. 

"I'll call Pepper, she'll know what to do," Steve said. "Bruce, you and bozo clean the couch. Move out team."

"Shh, it's alright, no one is mad," Phil cooed, carrying her to the bathroom. Clint followed behind, watching Phil carefully as he sat her down in the bathroom. "Let's clean up, yeah?"

Tasha nodded slowly. "Okay Uncle Phil," she relented.