Two years and eight months of blood, sweat, and tears has come to an end. Okay, no blood and sweat, but there have definitely been tears. I just want to take a moment to thank everyone for sticking with me through the writer's blocks, the life-getting-in-the-ways, and the general not having any idea where to take the story. I hope I've given it an ending you will all be happy with...even though I'm super sad to be leaving this universe behind. *sad face*

Go forth and read, lovelies. Comments, reviews, questions, anything is welcome.

XOXO, La

Anastasia Barton always got what she wanted. And for as long as she could remember she wanted Sebastian Daniel Stark. Having known each other all their lives, thanks to their parents' close friendship, there was never a time Ana didn't know that one day she would be carrying the Stark name. Her parents and his parents had jokingly dismissed what she felt as puppy love, assuming when they grew up they would grow apart or that they would each find someone else.

But Ana's will never wavered.

Considering her parents had been together for almost four decades, and Sebastian's fathers an equally long time, she didn't understand how none of them could grasp her want to have a long-lasting relationship. It was all she knew.

Of course, it wasn't the perfect fairytale she had always imagined. They hadn't spent their childhood and adolescence inseparable. He hadn't asked her to run away with him when they were eighteen to start the adventure she knew their life together would be. She wasn't even his first real kiss; though he had been hers—even if she lied about it being 'practice.' No, instead, Ana had to first suffer through being in different schools, and when she had finally caught up with him, she was forced to listen to girls and boys, of all grades, fawn over her own personal green-eyed Adonis.

Hers.

Ironically, she had been the envy of them all. Even if she wasn't his girlfriend—yet—she was his closest confidant and best friend. Sebastian never took the attention, the looks, the whispering, and the soft giggles from the girls and wolf whistles from the boys, all that well. He found it confusing and overwhelming, he had once told her. And he wished, out loud, that if someone had like him that they would just be brave enough to come to him and say so.

So Ana prepared to do just that.

But again, things hadn't gone the way she expected—at least, not then. Someone else had beat her to it, and the fiery redhead had to suffer—as did the entire Barton household—for four whole months as Sebastian experienced his first relationship with his first girlfriend, at fifteen.

She remembered Uncle Tony had liked the girl, but Uncle Loki thought she was a little too fast for his eldest boy. Mama repeatedly told her it wouldn't last; it was just a high school thing. And Daddy said she was a small-time fizz compared to his little firecracker.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the only setback Ana would have to face in her quest to claim Sebastian.

After the first girlfriend, there was the short time Sebastian had with a foreign exchange student in his junior year. Being the sole student in school who could speak Norwegian—and well—it became Sebastian's responsibility to acclimate Magnus to the Southern California way of life and be his translator through his high school classes. It wasn't long before the boys were spending more time away from Ana, alone. It didn't anger her—much. She had known from a young age that Sebastian found the odd boy attractive and had minor crushes. Considering how open-minded his fathers and mothers were, and the way his birth parents alone had bounced between sexes, it wasn't a surprise. But it stung.

After Magnus had returned to Norway, leaving Sebastian with a minor broken heart, the eldest Stark son spent his senior year focusing on his studies. He had remained single for the year—not for a lack of trying on his fellow students' parts—but he also found his new love. And what would eventually become Ana's greatest competition.

Having taken an art class as a random elective in his freshman year, after the drama classes were deemed too full, Sebastian discovered he had a hidden talent. Hidden to him, but Ana could recall Aunt Sif and Uncle Loki pointing out to their son that they themselves were artistic in their own right—her with food, he with words. So it made sense, then, that their offspring would inherit some of that artistic ability as well. And since Audrey, who was presently in her third year in college, had like her big brother, found her niche in theatre—with a not so minor talent for graphic design, as well—it showed that it truly could be in the genes.

Through the art classes Sebastian discovered he was good with pencils and charcoal and sketching; canvas painting was simple enough, though, much too time consuming for the impatient, burgeoning artist. But, in his senior year when he tried sculpting for the first time, he fell hard and fast. And when he found he could sculpt with more than just clay, he began to experiment with wood, wax, and eventually started raiding his father's workshop for scrap metal. Occasionally, Sebastian could be found working in the garage side-by-side with Tony, both of them wielding a torch.

The next obstacle Ana's fairytale faced was college. Sebastian decided he wanted to go to a school where his focus would be on art. Clear across the country. And Ana had seemed to be the only one against the idea. Both his fathers and mother and step-mother supported it, so Ana suffered in silence, relying on Skype calls and text messages, and awaiting every holiday he would come home during the four years that Sebastian spent in Rhode Island—and the following two years when he lived and studied in England in a special arts program.

She hadn't spent all her time pining away for the love of her life, however. As determined as she was to win Sebastian, Ana was equally determined to have success of her own. Following in her mother's footsteps, Ana decided early on to study law and planned to apply to law schools near wherever Sebastian might be. Natasha was heartbroken Ana opted not to attend USC, but the highly intelligent, and sharp-minded—like her mother—Ana still excelled in the state college she'd chosen. Though she discovered early on that law wasn't as interesting to her as she had expected it would be. It took nearly three years of pre-law classes before she got the nerve to change her major. Various history courses, and classes to improve her Russian, sparked an interest in Russian history for the co-ed. It became something of a passion for the red-headed half-Russian-American—a secondary one to Sebastian, but a passion nonetheless.

It was a passion that had her working as an assistant in the Russian studies department through the rest of her time in college, and fielding offers to study and teach overseas before she even graduated. But even as more academic success came her way through graduate school, and with a string of half-hearted romances trailing behind her, Ana always held hope she and Sebastian would somehow cross paths again.

After he returned from Paris, Sebastian settled in New York, where interest in his sculptures had started to simmer—and where a flourishing student just happened to be attending graduate school and working part-time as an interpreter. The lifelong best friends had no problem picking up where they left off, each blending in seamlessly with the other's collective group of friends.

But Ana wasn't satisfied just being friends. And she noticed that things hadn't changed much since high school, with both males and females expressing interest in Sebastian. Only now Sebastian wasn't so shy or hesitant to act on mutual feelings. It was disheartening, and had the twenty-six year old second-guessing her feelings for the first time in her life, and her relentless pursuit of her closest friend.

In the end, her persistence would pay off.

All it took was a bottle of cheap vodka and a game of Truth or Dare while they sat on the rooftop of Bash's apartment building, on a sultry summer night. Bash was hesitant to participate at first. Like his father, Loki, the eldest Stark son did not hold his liquor well. A fact of which Ana had been well aware.

It started innocently enough, with each of them doling out silly and juvenile dares of flashing and mooning neighbors and crank-calling friends and strangers, alike. But after a few shots, giggles fits were running rampant and inhibitions were steadily fading away.

There was very little the two hadn't known about each other—or so they thought. Through a couple rounds of Truth questions, Ana learned of the serious French boyfriend Bash had kept secret from everyone—even his fathers—for nearly a year. Bash, in turn, learned of Ana's brief dalliance with drugs in her second and third years of college. Something, she was able to admit later, that was a result of her unhappiness with studying law.

Ana's growing frustration with Bash's resistance to view her as more than his closest friend, or the little girl he had grown up with, only built with his inebriated complaints of being unable to find that one great love of his life, and his longing to have a relationship like his fathers'.

When he had collapsed beside her, stretching out on the pile of blankets they had laid out, and dropped his head in her lap before drunkenly mumbling that he wished she still saw him in that light, Ana had burst out laughing. Likely influenced by the liquor, she had calmed herself long enough to ask him, seriously, "In what light?" and waited for his answer as she brushed his jet black hair, long and near his shoulders at that time, back from his forehead.

Long-legged and slim, Bash had turned those soft, but intense green eyes up to her, raising a hand to flick at a burgundy curl hanging over her face, dangling over his, and grinned lazily. "You know," was all he had said.

"Tell me anyway," she'd murmured, lightly tracing his sharply defined cheekbone with the pad of her finger.

He'd laughed again, the kind of tickled laugh only those who'd been drinking could emit. "C'mon, Ana Banana. You know…like when we were kids."

She had to bite back another laugh, a nervous breathy one. Needing something to distract her just one second, Ana had reached for the bottle of vodka, foregoing the shot glass, and swallowed down several gulps. "And what makes you so sure I don't?"

Another little giggle from the man in her lap escaped, and when he'd reached up this time, it was to press the backs of his cool fingers to her cheek, an affectionate gesture he'd learned from his father. "'Cause I'm not that lucky, kjæreste."

Ana's lips twitched up as she smirked the smirk of her mother, an auburn brow cocking with it. A calm façade that effectively hid the chaos she felt inside, came over her as she coolly stated, "You could be."

She'd hoped then, as their eyes locked, that she'd finally get that kiss she had been waiting for. But, with Bash being one of the few Stark men who didn't always act so impulsively—at least, not as an adult—the two had ended up sitting on that rooftop throughout the night, nervously confessing their feelings, awkwardly discussing where they would go from there. It was about the time the sun had started to lighten the sky, and the city started to awaken, that the lifelong best friends had shared their first kiss since they were teenagers.

After he had fallen asleep in her arms, Ana had watched Bash, watched his chest rise and fall steadily, brushed the tips of her fingers over his chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw, and eventually, she had closed her eyes, with a satisfied smile curving her lips.

Because Anastasia Barton always got what she wanted.

Ana and Bash's smiles were bright and brilliant for the camera as they posed with their hands around the silver knife, ready to cut into the specially designed cake. It was shaped in a replica of one of Bash's works, of a couple embracing—a gift from the owner of the gallery that regularly showed Bash's work. And Ana's cheeks were beginning to ache, along with her feet and her back.

Finally, they were able to cut a good-sized slice, taking pieces from the marble cake to feed each other. Ana let out a short squeal when Bash swiped a dollop of frosting over her nose. Laughing, Bash took her chin in his hand, bringing her closer, and flicked his tongue out, licking up the frosting.

"Hey! Keep it in the bedroom! There are children present."

"Zip it, Dad…" Bash groaned, but grinned at his father. He watched, with a small smile, as his other father reprimanded his husband simply by saying his name, and Tony responded by reaching up to press a kiss to Loki's lips that Bash could hear from his spot, several feet away. Absently, the artist reached down for his bride's hand.

Ana turned away from her teenaged sister, Charlie, as Bash's fingers closed around hers. She looked up then followed his gaze to where his fathers stood, smiling and looking at each other like the lovebirds they still were. She gave Bash's hand a squeeze, set her chin on his shoulder, a habit that started when she'd grown tall enough to do so. "After all these years, they're still crazy about each other, aren't they?"

"They have to be," Bash scoffed, leaning into her. "Like there's anyone else who could ever put up with either one of them?"

She chuckled and poked him in the side. "I think some of the people in this room might say the same about you and me."

He turned his head a fraction, setting that deep, penetrating green gaze on her. Even after twenty-seven years, her stomach still did a flip. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her temple. "Good."

She cocked an auburn brow. "Why 'good?'"

"Because you're mine," he said simply.

Her red-stained lips quirked up in a smirk. "Took you long enough to figure that out, дурак." He didn't smile or grin, but his eyes danced with mischief, and he mouthed once more Mine. "Right back at ya, baby."

"All right, newlyweds, move it." Natasha gave her daughter a light shove as she moved behind the table, cutting in front of most of the people to pick up two plates of cake. "They're trying to serve some cake here. Move it along."

Bash slipped his arm around Ana's waist, still wondering why she would voluntarily put herself in a such a binding dress, and moved with her away from the cake table. They stood together, watching as Natasha carried the plates to the table assigned to their parents, and dropped down next to Clint, sliding the plate in front of him. Ana's youngest sibling, Charlie, immediately ran over and sweet-talked her way into stealing half of her father's slice. Stick-straight blonde strands swishing, Charlie wandered away, bolting over to Matt, Bash's Uncle Thor's oldest son, bouncing his first-born, a boy, in his arms, and started chatting with his pretty wife.

Another flutter in her belly had Ana turning to wrap both arms around her new husband. "Bash."

"Hmm?" he hummed absently. His eyes roamed around the room, over her head, stopping, lips curving as he spotted his brother, talking closely with their 'Uncle' Steve's youngest daughter. "Oh, shit. Look at Jazzy, babe. He's trying to hit on Ava. Gods, he's still totally a spaz."

Ana shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the scene, before giving Bash's waist a small shake. "Sebastian." That got your attention, she thought, as his eyes darted to her. She rarely called him by his full name—only when she was upset or exasperated by him. Or, as in this moment, trying to get his attention.

"What, Anastasia?"

She looked at him quietly for a moment, discreetly swallowed. "When are we going to tell them?" she asked softly.

His tense stance relaxed instantly and he looked up again, searching for his fathers and Ana's parents. The four sat at the same table, Tony now happily eating cake from the fork Loki offered, his worker's fingers, as ever, absentmindedly twirling in his husband's still mostly raven strands, pulled back today in a slick tail at the nape of his neck. Clint and Natasha sat beside them, discreetly making fun of them. "Worry about it later, min vakre Russisk rose," he finally answered, bringing his hands to her face. "Let's just enjoy today."

As she always had when he spoke Norwegian to her, Ana melted into him. My beautiful Russian rose. That was what he'd started to call her after he finally admitted how he felt about her. And he knew exactly when to pull that endearment out, to calm her down, to extinguish her easily flared temper. Or simply to soften her to where he wanted her. The sneaky little shit.

"It's our day. Just...let's just focus on us."

She grinned softly as his thumb brushed across her full bottom lip. "We have to tell them soon."

The way he angled his head, in mild irritation, made her chuckle. "Why? You know what's gonna happen. They're gonna get all crazy and start planning everything. Again. Don't you remember how crazy they drove us planning this?" He lowered his forehead to hers, his fingers curling into her red curls, loose and flowing down her back, just as he liked. Golden red silk against the white satin of her dress. "Are you honestly ready for all of that to start again so soon?"

She laughed, hard enough to throw her head back. Bash straightened and tightened his arms around her as she gripped his lapel. "Fine. We can wait. But...we can't wait too long."

"Why not?" He nearly whined the question, dropping his hands to her hips, and started to sway lightly with her.

"Bash." She looked around discreetly and leaned in to whisper, "I'm almost twenty weeks already. I'm going to start showing probably soon. I had four people trying to get me into this thing." She flicked her fingers at the full skirt of her dress. "I told them I'd been stress eating. For a week."

His lips twitched up, his hands gave her hips a light squeeze, his thumbs running up and down her flattened belly. "I know, hon. We'll tell them after the honeymoon or something. I'm looking forward to that little belly you're gonna have." He had to suppress a bigger grin when Ana predictably groaned miserably.

She rolled her eyes, letting her hands slide over his chest and down his arms to grip at his elbows. "Why? I'm not. I am not looking forward to being all fat and pudgy. You're probably just looking forward to my gigantic boobs."

Bash laughed, deeply, and tugged her closer to kiss her cheek. No one could see him brush his thumbs along the underside of her breasts between them. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, baby, but your boobs are already gigantic."

She snickered, hunched her shoulders, and moved his hands away. "Shut up."

"But that isn't what I was meant, kjæreste." Before Ana could ask what he meant, Bash took her face in his hands again, his artist's fingers light and gentle as he tipped up her face. "I can't wait to see you all round and perfect, with the life we created together blossoming inside you."

Fingers winding around his wrists, Ana sighed, whimpering softly with it. "I didn't realize I'd married such a sap. You should have been a writer."

He smirked and kissed her lips softly, sliding his hands down to link with hers. "Pop's the one who's magic with words. I'm better with metal."

She smiled widely. "Just like your dad."

He laughed and pursed his lips. "Hey, there's a lot of Loki in me, I'd hope."

This time she cupped his face. "There is. You've got the best of them both. Now. Come on. Your knocked up wife wants cake. And a lot of it."

"Jameson Anthony Stark, put that flask away. You know very well there is no alcohol allowed."

Jazz flashed bright brown eyes at Loki, smirking, and looking so much like his father it made Loki ache for his and Tony's college days. "I don't know what you're talking about, Pop," he nearly crooned, sliding the silver flask back into his vest pocket. "I promise, it's just Coke."

"Charmer." Loki nudged his second son with his elbow, his hands occupied with two flutes of sparkling cider. "You forget, I can always tell when you're lying. My bullshit radar is pinging madly around you. Just like your father."

"Yeah, yeah…love you, too."

Chuckling, Loki carried the cider back to the table where Natasha now sat alone. "Hello, darling..."

"Hi, honey bunch." She batted long dark auburn lashes at him as he took the seat beside her and handed her a flute. "Thanks."

"Where has Clint gone?"

"To get more cake probably. Charlie ate most of his. Mm!" She sipped at the sweet beverage, her lips smacking as she swallowed it down. "It ain't vodka, but it's pretty damn good."

Loki sat back, crossing one long leg over the other, and drank some of his own. "You and Sif did a wonderful job with the planning."

"I know." Loki chuckled. "Who knew, right? I didn't even put that much thought into my own wedding."

"Perhaps it's different when it's your child." He caught sight of Sebastian and Anastasia speaking with a group of his art friends. "Gods. I cannot believe I am the father of a married man. A man who's almost thirty. Where did the time go? When did my precocious little boy become this successful artist?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, lazily slapped a hand to Loki's thigh. He flinched only slightly at the dull ache from a long ago injury. "Face it, Loki. We are old bitches. My little brat bullied your kid all the way to the altar, just like we said she would." They fell into a fit of giggles together. "And now we're stuck with each other, for real, for the rest of our lives."

Loki raised a hand to Natasha's hair, dyed monthly to keep that rich auburn tint, he knew, but she would never admit, smoothing a hand over the practical short cap, then rubbed his hand over her back. "I wouldn't have wanted it to be anyone else, darling." He curled a finger under her chin, turning her face up to his. "You will always be the girl who hated poetry, but loved me enough to always tell me the truth." She met his gaze, a silent conversation being exchanged.

When her eyes began to tear up, Natasha turned away, bringing the cider to her mouth. "You did well, too." Her voice was a little shakier than she'd like, but, of course, she ignored it. "With the tuxes." She chanced a glance back at her best friend of thirty-five years, flicked a finger at his royal blue and byzantium striped tie.

Loki grinned. "I'm lucky you and Sif let me do anything at all." His eyes lifted as Clint returned, with Tony not far behind.

"Want some more, babe?"

"Mm-mm," Natasha grunted, shaking her head as she finished off her drink.

"What the fuck is with this no bar at the wedding shit?" Tony griped as he plopped down next to Loki, pulling his own flask from his inside jacket pocket.

"Language, Anthony." Loki leaned forward to set his glass down, doing a double take when he saw the flask. "Are you serious? You have one too?"

"Oh, please." Tony unscrewed the cap and took a quick swig. "Don't act like you're surprised, babe. Besides, it was a gift to all the boys in the wedding party from the fathers of the groom."

"Oh, really?" Loki only grinned and shook his head. "I'd be a fool if I was surprised." He laid a hand on Tony's arm, giving it a light squeeze, glancing up when he saw their youngest, Axel, come running toward their table.

"Can I get the keys to the car?" He held out his hand between the two, shrugged when Loki asked why. "I left my iPod in my jacket and I left my jacket in the car and I wanna show Charlie something. Can I get 'em?"

"Why the hell would you leave your iPod in the car?" Tony questioned, turning to look up at Axel.

"Anthony…"

"You're the one who told me not to take it into the wedding ceremony!" Axel argued.

"We're not at the ceremony right now, are we?"

"Stop," Loki nearly shouted through a chuckle, throwing out his arm between father and son. "First of all, why don't you try saying please?" Axel responded by rolling his eyes. "Do you want the keys or not?" he asked shortly.

"Can I please get the keys?"

"Thank you." Loki gave a nod to Tony, who reached into his pocket and handed over the keys to Axel.

"Don't turn the car on," he called after Axel as he ran off to join Charlie. "I mean it, Axel. If I ask Jarvis and he says that car has been moved I'm gonna smack you so hard, your grandkids will feel it!" Slightly embarrassed, Loki shushed Tony, taking his hand to keep him from pointing.

"What's that all about?" Natasha asked, nosy as ever.

Loki sighed and laughed. "Axel took the car out for a joyride a few nights ago."

"No shit?" Clint asked through laughter.

"Fortunately, he didn't cause any damage, but he damn near gave us heart attacks when we found the car missing. Anthony's had to put Jarvis on alert. If anyone aside from he or I are behind the wheel, he locks the driver out."

"Fuckin' fourteen year old little smart-ass," Tony mumbled before sipping from his flask again. Loki reached under the seat of Tony's chair and dragged it closer, leaning in so his mouth was near his grumbling husband's ear.

"Should I remind you what you did with a car at fourteen?" he murmured against the shell before pressing his lips to his bearded cheek. To soften him up even more, Loki brushed his fingers through his hair. It still bothered him that the man's hair seemed to refuse to gray completely and was mostly the same salt and pepper mix it was over a decade ago..

Tony turned his head enough to encourage Loki to nuzzle. "Why do you think I'm so pissed, babe?" he whispered back. "I'm worried, okay?"

"He's fine, my love. He has you for a father, not Howard. And he will think twice before getting behind a steering wheel before he is legally allowed. Lest he incur your wrath again. Come now. It's your son's wedding day. Smile." He dipped his head to force himself into Tony's vision. The genius stretched his lips over his teeth and Loki nuzzled him again.

"Knock it off. God, you guys are still nauseating," Natasha groaned as Loki pulled away from Tony, but kept his hand firmly linked with his husband's. "Speaking of nauseating. Look at them. They're so disgustingly happy."

The three men followed Natasha's gaze toward the dance floor where Sebastian and Natasha were still slowly swaying together, eyes only for each other, even as the music thumped a fast-paced beat. Until Sif and Sian interrupted for a picture. Loki hummed softly in agreement with Natasha and snuck a sideways glance at the redhead beside him.

"When do you think they'll tell us?"

"They better make it soon," Natasha replied without missing a beat. "She has to be fifteen, sixteen weeks, if I'm guessing right."

"Sounds about right."

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Clint asked, spinning his cup of punch in one hand as he lifted his other arm to rest on the back of Natasha's chair. His wife turned her head, giving him that look that told him he'd missed something she caught on to quickly. "What?"

"Tell him," she urged Loki, jerking her head at Clint.

"Uh—" Loki was taken aback and he laughed as he stuttered. "Why me? He's your husband. And she's your daughter."

"Your kid did it."

"Did what? What are you talking about?" Clint leaned forward causing Natasha to sit back.

"Shut the front door." All three turned to look at Tony after his declaration. Loki smirked. Tony's eyes bounced between Loki and Natasha before shooting over to Sebastian. How did he not pick up on this? "Oh, shit…"

"What?" Clint demanded, growing frustrated he hadn't figured this out yet. Loki laid a hand on his forearm behind Natasha's back.

"Calm yourself, Clint. They've yet to confirm, and I'm expecting any day now they will, but until then my suspicions—and Natasha's, which I did not doubt she would have—are that…" He leaned in, beckoning Clint forward and whispered two words.

The blond shot up. "What?"

"Clint." Natasha nearly hissed his name. He looked around, but he had only drawn a few people's attention. "Hey. Hon." Natasha tried to get him to look at her.

"You telling me this is a goddamn shotgun wedding?"

Both Loki and Natasha said a firm no. "Babe, think about it. They got engaged months ago. She probably didn't even know until after he proposed. From what I can tell, she's probably barely into her second trimester. "

"Well—"

"Shut up, Loki," she snapped.

"Can't believe that little shit is making me a grandfather." Loki snickered at Tony and pinched his cheek. "Don't laugh!" Though he could barely hold back his own chuckles. "I'm still young. I'm gonna be the youngest-looking grandpa ever."

"You're nearly sixty years old, Anthony. That is quite a suitable age to be a grandparent. And keep your voice down. Sebastian and Anastasia have yet to say anything."

"About what?" Bash's voice came from out of nowhere.

Four sets of eyes shot up, staring at the bride and groom as they approached and stopped at the table, hand-in-hand. Everyone looked at Loki to reply; a genuine smile stretched his lips. "About why it is a dry wedding, darling. That's all. Your father is, not surprisingly, unhappy."

"How do you celebrate without liquor? Our ancestors did not fight Prohibition so we could toast with fruit punch."

"Dad…"

"I'm just saying."

Bash and Ana exchanged a glance, and Loki recognized the look in Ana's eyes. It was a look he had seen often in Natasha's that expressed a need for something to get done, and soon. So it wasn't too surprising when Bash requested Loki join him outside on the hall's quasi-porch, facing the parking lot.

"It was a lovely ceremony, darling," Loki said, as he followed Bash outside. The younger Stark bobbed his brows, at his father, grinned softly. "I only wish your grandmother had been able to see it," he said softly.

"Yeah, me too." Bash sighed and turned to Loki. "You know, don't you?"

Feigning surprise, Loki's brows drew together. "Know what?" He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning when Bash angled his head in exasperation.

"Pop."

With the single word, Loki relented with a tiny laugh. "I only had an inkling. You've just confirmed it, sønn." As Bash looked down into his own glass of cider, Loki could see he was blushing slightly. "How far along is she?"

He took a long drink. "Eighteen weeks," he breathed out. "Almost nineteen."

"Was it planned?"

"No…" he answered emphatically, followed by a nervous laugh. "But…we are happy about it."

"Good. Surprise pregnancies are not all that uncommon, Sebastian. Particularly in this family. There is no need to feel embarrassed. You are both adults." He watched Bash for a moment, as he nodded in agreement, giving him the time to compose himself. "You know, you're about the age I was when your mother told me she was pregnant with you. Actually, a year older."

Bash lifted his eyes to Loki, inhaling deeply before releasing the breath slowly. "Were you scared shitless, too?"

Loki's sympathetic expression slipped away as he chuckled. "Considering, at the time, I was still harboring feelings for a man I hadn't set eyes on in five years, and I had only known your mother for roughly six months? Yes." Loki nodded with pursed lips. "Shitless sounds about right."

Bash grinned again, softly, then shifted a shoulder anxiously. "Listen, Pop…I know this all came about pretty fast —the wedding and everything. And now the…baby. And I know you were disappointed I postponed my next showing, but—"

"Wait a minute." Loki threw up a hand. "Firstly, I have no say in your career, Sebastian. You made the decision you thought was right for you. I was only looking forward to the trip to New York and the break from writing." He laughed. "Secondly—and, honestly, I thought you knew—but this wedding has been in the planning stages since before you were out of diapers."

Bash snorted and drank more of his cider.

"My little princess finally got what she wanted."

"I guess so."

"We all knew this day would come. Did it come a little sooner than we expected? Perhaps. Are we any less ecstatic for you both? Not at all."

Bash's smile dimmed. "And the scared shitless thing? Does that go away?"

"Never." They both laughed and Loki glanced out toward the parking lot, spotting Axel, sitting behind the wheel of Tony's car. "Damn it. Axel Edward Stark, get your behind out of that car this instant!"

Bash turned to see what was going on and watched as Axel stepped out from the driver's seat of Tony's car. Charlie Barton was beside him in the passenger seat. He snickered softly to himself as Axel threw up his hands in frustration.

"We're just listening to the radio, Pop!"

"I don't give a damn what you are doing! Turn off the car and get out now!"

Axel and Charlie both started to climb out and Bash snuck a look at his father. He recognized the look of exasperation, saw the lines of worry and every other emotion etched into his father's handsome face. He had more questions and things he felt like he needed to say, but he swallowed everything back as the two teens started up the steps into the hall.

Loki's arm shot out, fingers curling into Axel's dress shirt at his arm. "Hold it. Charlotte, you may go inside."

"Oh, but…" Loki gave her a stern look. "Never mind. See you, Ax."

He waited until the young girl was inside before releasing Axel and holding out his hand. "Give me the keys."

Scowling darkly, Axel dropped the keys in Loki's hand. "I wasn't gonna go anywhere. I just wanted to show her—"

"I care not what you wanted to do, Axel. You asked to retrieve your music player, not waste your father's gas fooling around to show off for Charlotte."

"Ew! I wasn't showing off! She's like my sister. I'm not into incest. Unlike some people." He slanted a look at Bash, with long-lashed honey-colored eyes, and earned a sharp shove from his brother. Name-calling and more shoving ensued between the brothers separated by more than a decade.

"Enough!" Loki wrapped his fingers around Axel's arm and pulled him away from a laughing Bash. "Do you want to extend your punishment another week?"

Axel frowned even more, looking to Bash once more. "I thought parents were supposed to get mellower as they got old." Bash's response was to snort.

Loki nudged Axel's shoulder. "Watch it. You're already on thin ice, young man."

"Sorry I can't be all perfect like the Golden Child over here." He shoved a hand in Bash's direction.

"Hey, don't drag me into this, Squirt. If anybody knows I'm not perfect, it's Pop."

"Get inside, Axel," Loki lightly ordered before the teen could sass his brother further. After he disappeared into the hall, Loki sighed and grabbed for Bash's cider, swallowing it down. "Is Anastasia being pregnant why we don't have any bloody champagne?"

"Yes," Bash answered with a laugh. "For the record, the only complaints we've had came from Dad and you."

Loki glanced his way with a slight smirk. "I could have used the liquor at this very moment, that's all."

Bash looked up, inside, at Axel, still pouting as he joined his cousins and siblings. "You want me to talk to him?"

Humming in thought, Loki turned to lean on the porch railing. "What, and tell stories of the Golden Child's brightest moments?"

They both laughed. "Hey, Axel wasn't around for my best work. And he was still a baby when I was in high school."

"That's true." He looked at his son again, a wistful half-smile on his lips. "You were worse than him." Bash laughed, shrugging a little. "You gave me more gray hairs than your brother and sister ever did."

Quieting, Bash swallowed. "Jeg er redd, Pappa."

Straightening up, Loki laid a hand on Bash's shoulder, giving it a good shake. "Jeg vet, kjærlighet." His hand slid down to give Bash's elbow a squeeze. "You'll be fine, Sebastian. Your father and I are only a short flight away. And your mother and Sian are close by in Boston. And Pepper and Happy. And your Uncle Thor and Aunt Jane…"

"I know, Pappa. I know all that." He nodded, working his jaw in thought. "But, actually…"

"I knew there was something brewing in there." Bash chuckled and Loki leaned an elbow on the railing again.

"We're contemplating a move back to LA."

"Really? Is that feasible, with your gallery here? And Anastasia's work and school?"

Bash shrugged. "I can work from anywhere. And I might have to fly back for shows, but that's what? Once, maybe twice, a year. If that. Or I could just find a showroom in LA. And Ana…she hasn't told her parents yet, but she's been offered a position out there. That's why we're thinking about it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Came out of nowhere, really. She wasn't expecting something like this for at least another five years." Loki lifted a brow in question. "She's been offered a teaching position. Teaching courses in the Slavic Languages department. History and probably a couple of languages courses, too."

"Wow."

"Right? And she can continue working on her PhD. If she gets it by a certain date, she can be upgraded to assistant professor and eventually get tenure. Aunt Tasha will flip when Ana tells her."

Loki grinned. "It's at USC isn't it?"

"Yup," he answered with a nod.

"Well." Excitement bubbled up in Loki's chest, but he suppressed it as best he could, not wanting to get his hopes up just yet. "We would love having you both closer. Especially when my first grandchild arrives."

Bash agreed cheerfully then paused to inhale deeply.

"Darling. Don't stress yourself." He stepped closer to cup Bash's cheek, still awed that his eldest, standing at full height, was taller than him, and gave Bash's cheek a pat. "There's a lifetime of worry ahead of you. I promise. But…I happen to think you're going to be a wonderful father. I may be biased, however."

He grinned down at Loki, his black lashes fluttering as his eyes stung. "As long as I'm half as good as you…"

"Mm," Loki smirked, forcing back the emotion that clogged his throat. "Sentiment, darling," he said tightly. He started to drop his hand and Bash reached for it, giving it a tight squeeze before releasing it.

"It's my wedding day. I'm allowed to be sentimental."

"Hmm, if only your younger self could hear you now." He moved again, to rest against the rail, looking inside the hall. He grinned, seeing Axel and Jameson trying to show off on the dance floor with their male cousins.

"Pop, can I ask you something?" Loki hummed affirmatively. "It's kind of weird, but…how did you know Dad was…The One?" Frowning slightly, Loki turned up his face to him. "You hated him at first, right?"

He chuckled, shifting to face him. "Hate would be a bit strong. He was just…so obnoxious and loud. And arrogant as Hel."

"So not much has changed in, what, thirty years."

"Thirty-five, smart ass."

They both laughed, but Bash watched as Loki's laughter faded, and a nostalgic expression crossed his face. When he spoke again, he was so serious, it almost concerned Bash.

"I was filled with anger when I met him, Sebastian. I was angry at Odin, angry at Thor—at the world. It took one weekend, one drunken conversation, for me to see that he and I were both so much alike. Both lost, both scared. Both broken. He was just better at hiding it." He shifted again, then straightened. "You asked how I knew he was The One?"

Bash nodded and Loki shrugged a shoulder.

"I don't know that I had that moment, honestly. I knew I loved him more than anyone and I knew our connection was nothing I had ever experienced before. But… Your father and I were never a conventional couple. I mean, it really all started off heat and hormones."

Bash groaned. "Yeah, I read your second biography, Pop."

"Then you know it developed from there. Even when we were apart, we were never really free of each other. He healed whatever it was inside me that was broken, Sebastian. And I like to think I did the same for him."

"I'm sure you did," he agreed with a soft smile.

"But the moment I knew I simply could not live the rest of my days without that man beside me was when this…adorable little four year old monster…" Bash scoffed, rolled his eyes. "…oh so innocently asked him if he could call him 'daddy,' and Anthony, after only being in your life for, I don't know, two months? He so freely, and eagerly, said yes."

"You mean to tell me you knew he was The One because I asked him to be my dad?" he asked incredulously.

"No. What I am saying is that I knew because in that moment, my dear Sebastian, my life was complete."

Bash decided not to point out the sentiment of his father's statement, only nodded in understanding. The moment passing, Tony came strolling out, flask in hand. "Hey, your wife is asking for you, kiddo." He stopped, frowned. "Holy shit. There's a sentence I wasn't ever expecting to say."

Grateful for the break in that serious moment, Bash smiled at him. "Thanks, dad." He looked at Loki, gave him a nod. "Takk, Pappa."

Returning the nod with a grin, Loki slipped his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks. Bash started for the hall, pausing by Tony long enough to grab his flask and take a long sip.

"Hey! What the—"

"Thanks." He handed it back and took Tony by the shoulders. "By the way, you're gonna be a grandfather."

Tony was scowling, much like Axel had earlier, but at Bash's words he looked up with wide eyes. "No shit?"

"No shit."

He and Bash exchanged pats to the back, then Bash disappeared inside. Tony looked to his husband, bobbing his brows. "So you were right?"

"Mm-hmm," Loki hummed, letting Tony slide his arm around him as he neared. "How do you feel about that, Grandpa?"

The genius made a dissatisfied noise. "We're gonna have to work on that name. I'm not digging Grandpa Tony."

Loki chuckled and kissed his temple. "We'll figure it out. We've got time."

Tony turned, lifting his face to Loki's. "You two have a good talk about it?"

He grinned widely, brushed his fingers through Tony's hair. Thinking of their early days made him overly affectionate. "Yes."

Straightening, Tony's face changed instantly. "What?"

"What? Nothing. What?"

"You have that look again."

He practically chortled. "What look?"

"That look! The one you get right before you get all mushy and say something sugary sweet to me. Or about me. Or the kids."

"I do not have such a look," he argued, lifting his chin. "I was simply admiring my husband and marveling at how far we've come."

"Shit, here we go. Spill it, Loki."

Loki tried to resist, to hold back the emotions and thoughts that had built up during his conversation with Bash, but he couldn't anymore. He slapped his hands to Tony's chest. "Sebastian is married, Anthony. Married."

Unable to resist Loki's mixture of happiness and sadness himself, Tony softened. "I know, babe. With Kiddo Jr. on the way."

"And my little Jameson seems to have inherited his father's taste for science and partying. And is poised to take over Stark Industries whenever you finally decide to allow him."

Tony scoff-laughed, slipping an arm around Loki. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen anytime soon, babe. I'm not ready to vacate the premises yet. And he's only twenty-three. Kid's got a ways to go."

"You're not ready yet? Not even to chase the summer season around the globe with me in tow, like you once said you wanted?" Long, pale fingers danced up Tony's chest. He grabbed them in his work-worn hand, kissed them lightly.

"Tsk. That was years ago, Loki. Besides, you're creamy pale skin wouldn't fare very well in all that sun," he said, chucking Loki under the chin.

"Fair enough. Then there's our sweet girl…"

"Woman," Tony corrected, earning a curious glance. "She is woman. Hear her roar. Or she'll kick your ass."

Loki laughed and conceded, "Woman. Did she tell you of the offer in Washington D.C.?"

Tony's jaw clenched. "Mmhmm."

Smiling affectionately, Loki circled his arms around Tony's neck. "You don't want her to go."

"Do I want my very beautiful, very gorgeous, very talented daughter traveling to D.C. to work at some cheap start-up business that is completely dependent on her work, and her name, to get going? No."

Loki laughed. "She would be perfectly fine, love. If she decides to go. She doesn't know if she wants to yet. She'd have to transfer her credits for her last year. It's a lot of work. And you know, Sif and Sian are close by. And Emma's still at our old alma mater."

"I know…but she won't be here."

"True. But she plans to head to New York anyway, darling. She wants to be on the stage. Only a good, solid role will keep her here." Tony pouted softly. "We've still got Axel for another three years. At least."

Tony groaned lightly, dropping his head to Loki's shoulder. "You know, the crazy thing is he isn't even as bad as Bash was. Or Jazz. And none of them gave me grief like my Monkey."

Loki chuckled absently, slipping out of Tony's arms to rest against the railing again, pulling the genius closer to rest against him, his back to Loki's chest, arms firmly around his waist, chin propped in the crook of Tony's neck. "I know. Growing pains, darling. Again. But he's our baby…"

"Yeah…"

"Look at them," Loki murmured beside his husband's ear, watching as Sebastian and Anastasia posed for a photo with their respective siblings.

At Ana's side were her two younger brothers, Rowan and Xander. Xander's arm was wrapped around young Charlie's shoulders, pulling her further into the huddle. Beside Bash, was Jazz, shorter than his older brother and his baby sister, Audi, who was busy posing like she was walking a red carpet, jet black curls flowing down her back, glossy red lips spread in a bright smile, her dark purple bridesmaids dress sadly getting trampled among her brothers' clumsy feet. And oblivious to the bunny ears Axel was giving her.

"They almost look as happy as you and I were."

"Are," Tony corrected, giving him a nudge. Loki pressed a kiss to his cheek. "They got nothin' on us. This ain't Monte Carlo, but it's all right." Loki chuckled in his ear. It tickled Tony and he jerked slightly against him. "You think they're gonna be all right?"

"I think they'll be just fine, darling. They're strong individually; stronger together. Like Clint and Natasha. Like you and I."

"Nobody's as strong as you and me, babe," Tony murmured as he slid his hands over Loki's arms. "They really do look good together, don't they?"

Loki smiled, giving Tony another tight squeeze. "They're perfect, darling. Picture perfect."

2nd A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! And thanks for reading. XOXO

some quick translations:

kjæreste = sweetheart

дурак = fool

Jeg er redd = I'm scared

Jeg vet, kjærlighet = I know, love

Takk = Thanks