Standard fanfic disclaimer that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law: these aren't my characters. (Well, except for four of them.) This story is based on characters and situations from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which in turn is based on characters and situations from Marvel Comics. I'm just borrowing them for, um, typing practice. Yeah, that's it, typing practice. This is an amateur work of fiction; no profit has been made from this story, beyond the amusement of the readers and the improvement of the author's typing speed. This story is debuting as 'netfic and has not previously been published in any fanzine or APA. A semi-sequel to my drabble "No."
by Susan M. M.
Fourth of July. The Avengers were enjoying a well-deserved day off. In the six years since Nick Fury had called them together to fight Loki, they had become the world's protectors. Earth's mightiest heroes, known and respected all over the world. But today, they weren't fighting aliens or rescuing victims of natural disasters. Today, Captain America was grilling hamburgers. The beer and lemonade were cold. Their children were chasing each other up and down the beach. It was a private beach, owned by Tony Stark, so there were no paparazzi and the only SHIELD agents present were Hawkeye and Black Widow.
Suddenly a blond four-year-old came running up to his parents in tears. "Mommy, Daddy, Phil hit me!"
Dr. Jane Foster reached out and enveloped her son in a hug.
"If Phil hast struck thee, Erik, then smite him in return," Thor urged his son.
Jane shook her head, knowing it would be a waste of time to even try and correct her husband. She looked up from her son to the other children playing on the beach: Philip Howard Stark, Philippa Nicole Rogers, Filip Luchnikovich Romanoff. "Phil hit you?"
Erik Coulson Foster-Blake nodded.