papa bear taking care of baby bear

A Conversation Between Captain Rogers and Mrs. Rogers

Contrary to popular opinion (read: Bucky Barnes), Steve Rogers was not an idiot.

So he carefully telegraphed his disapproval of the Howling Commandos’ latest prank and stayed out of the way when Bucky went on the warpath.  And all right, so maybe he was sort of, kind of, maybe cuddling poor neglected Corporal Bucky Bear but somebody had to look after the baby, right?

Peggy wryly offered her services for babysitting duty, considering that Steve had proclaimed her Bucky Bear’s godmother (while making sure that human Bucky was not in earshot).  She gently booped him on the nose.

“You are a ridiculous man, Captain Rogers and your better half is equally ridiculous.  You know that, right?”

He gives her his best, innocent, “Who me?” smile.  If things had been different and if he hadn’t been so hopelessly gone on Bucky, he might have fallen completely for Peggy.  As it was, he still adored her as a friend though. 

And thus, the whole Innocent Act wasn’t fooling her a single bit.  She laughed and said, “Well don’t look now, but Trouble and Strife seems to be headed in your direction, Captain.”  

Peggy left him alone and Steve could’ve really used some reinforcements at this point but okay, he was a grown man, he could handle this.  Right.  There was Bucky, who was stalking (really, there wasn’t a better word, Steve would swear up and down on that) his way.  Steve braced himself and tried not to use poor Bucky Bear as a shield.

As it turned out, he should’ve used the teddy bear because Bucky poked him right in the chest.


“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it!” Steve said on reflex.  Then winced. 

“No, you punk.  I can see it written all over your face.  You actually want babies.”

Steve gulped.  “Need I remind you that I’ve held babies?  And I’m not really into the whole screaming in my ear thing.  And 3 am feedings.  And diaper changes.”

“Bullshit.  The neighborhood babies loved you.  Mrs. Wilson actually wanted you to babysit that little monster of hers whenever you weren’t sick!”

“Awww, Wade Junior wasn’t so bad.”

Bucky poked him again.  “No, it’s not just the baby thing.  You actually want babies.  With me.

Steve tried to keep his poker face.  Bucky taught him better than this.  But then again, it was Bucky and okay, wow, the Poker Face was failing.  Failing terribly at this point.

So okay, he went for broke.  “Yes, I want babies with you.  I know we’re both men and neither of us is physically able to give birth to babies and it’s stupid, but I do.  I want us to get out of this war and have a white picket fence.  I want to marry you if it was actually allowed.  I’d get down on my knees right now and give you a ring if I could – ”

“You have my Ma’s ring,” Bucky said, with a funny look on his face.  “I gave it to you before I left.”

“To pawn you said!” Steve protested.  He went pink.  “It’s still with me.  I’d never get rid of it, Buck.”

Bucky took his hand.  “It used to fit your finger too.” He stroked gently around Steve’s ring finger and really, they were in plain sight and it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea to start stealing kisses at this moment. 

Steve still had that shot of reckless courage going for him though.  “James Buchanan Barnes, did you actually propose to me in secret?  Without actually letting me know?”

It was Bucky’s turn to glare at him defiantly.  “Yeah.  You accepted the ring anyway!  And oh, by the way, were we not already doing the for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, death do us part thing even back then?" 

"You’re a jerk.  Point taken.  Also, the answer is yes.  Even if we can’t have our babies.”

Bucky snorted, reached out for Corporal Bucky Bear and cuddled him.  “We’ll always have our Baby Bear.”

Steve grinned goofily at him and there were promises in that grin, promises of good and proper kissing as soon as they were in private.  And he knew Bucky was definitely going to collect on that promise. 

“Hey, you guys know you have a really ugly kid, right?” Somebody catcalled. 

Bucky growled.  “Baby? Take care of the kid, okay? Gotta go kick some ass.”

Later on, Corporal Phillips would make another addition on to the famous “List.”

#43.  Please do not insult the goddamn Bucky Bear.  If you wouldn’t insult a baby in his mother’s presence, then don’t do it to the bear. 

#44.  If you’re dumb enough to be an asshole to the goddamn teddy bear, then nothing’s gonna save you from the bear’s mama, papa, his godfathers and his godmother.  Don’t come crying to me, son.  I’m the bear’s godfather too.  

- end -

Her Bedtime Story

For the amazing desperationandgin who brings me so much joy, sends me such incredible support and gives me all the feels with her writing. Here you go, my friend. In fulfillment of your request for Little Merida to be talking to the baby when Regina is very pregnant. 


He’s late for dinner, something he knows will annoy the hell out of Regina. Of course, it isn’t his fault that David needed a hand when his truck battery died on the outskirts of town, nor could he control the fact that cell phone service was spotty for some reason out by the town line. But reasoning isn’t her forte these days—not when she’s eight and a half months pregnant with swollen feet, an aching lower back and recent leg cramps that have been keeping her awake half the night.

And tonight is lasagna night. Of all nights for him to be running late.

The smell of her signature dish hits him as he mounts the front steps, making his stomach rumble loudly enough for him to pause and take notice. What had he had for lunch today? A bologna sandwich that was supposed to have gone into Roland’s lunch box? Oh well, thank God for microwaves at least. The ability to warm cold food so quickly with the push of a button still excites him.

He unlocks the door and steps inside, expecting to hear the house alive with sound—voices, the television, Roland’s X-box, Regina reprimanding somebody for something. But it’s quiet, almost too quiet save a muted whispering coming from the living room.

He turns the corner, taking care to walk as quietly as he can, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him. Regina—stretched out on the couch sound asleep, mouth open, shoes off, hands on her rounded stomach with Merida kneeling beside her, reciting a book she knows by heart in a hushed tone.

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