This works as a follow up to "Nice Try", also in this book!

"You're sure it will only last four hours, right?"

"I am certain," Loki chuckled, anxious to get the fun going so his ultimate payback in pranking could teach you the lesson that he so desperately wanted to give.  "Besides, Thor will remain as he is so that you feel safe knowing I'm being watched, or so I'm told." 

"Well, then, I'm in," Tony laughed, clapping his hands together and looking around the room at the team.  "That girl has pranked us all one too many times, but this time we're going to get her good.  We owe her this.  Who's with me?"

"I'm definitely in."

"Me!"

"Guys, I'm not sure if this is such a good idea."

"Can it, Banner.  He's in too."

"You've got JARVIS capturing all of this, right?"

Steve sat at the far end of the lounge, shaking his head with a huge grin crossing his lips.  "She's gonna pay for those spiders once and for all."

You really did have this coming, being the prankster that you were, with your methods both severe and effective.  No member of the team had been safe; even Loki had been at the receiving end of your work.  It was because of this that he was so willing to help them now, and willing to risk your wrath.

"Okay, let's do it," the Captain sighed with a smirk.  "So go young, Loki, but not like, diapers young.  Some dignity needs to be maintained."

~~~

"Lady (Y/N)!  (Y/N), I need your assistance!" Thor called out, standing in the lounge with a smile that he struggled to contain.  The sound of children laughing and talking filled the room, leading him to struggle even more, looking down at his age-regressed teammates.

You ran into the room at the sound of his urgency, stopping cold in your tracks at the sight.  There were five children surrounding him, dressed in the over-sized clothes that your teammates were wearing when you had last seen them only an hour before.  A cold chill ran down your spine, and your mind immediately filled with Loki and how you were going to punish him for this.

"Thor, you've got to be joking.  Did Loki do this?  This isn't funny!"

"I need your assistance, (Y/N).  I must leave and can't take them with me.  You will need to care for them for the next three hours and forty-five minutes, precisely."  Before you could argue and beg him to stay, he was gone in a literal flash of lightning.

"(Y/N), these pants don't fit," the small Tony whined, looking down at the floor and the pile of material around his ankles.  "And I don't have on any underpants."

Tony

After finding enough safety pins to hold up a pair of underwear, you decided to take Tony to his lab so that he would have something familiar that could keep his active mind occupied and quiet for the few hours before he returned to his adult age.  Once the door opened, however, he recoiled back and took your hand; you felt a tremor in it as he squeezed, and a hesitancy to enter the room at all.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, squatting down to look at him.  "This is your lab, Tony.  You can go in."

"No, I can't.  I'm not supposed to touch anything or I get yelled at." His voice was so quiet and timid that you couldn't believe this was Tony Stark in front of you.  "I've broken too many things, so I can't go in there."

"Oh, Tony," you sighed, pulling him into a hug, "sweetie, no one here is going to yell at you, okay? How about if I come in with you and you can see that I'm telling the truth?  I mean, I don't have a clue what most of it is anyway, so if you did break something, I'd never know the difference, right?"

When you pushed him back to look at him, his eyes were wide and there was a hint of nervous tears moistening his lashes.  The softness and innocence in them nearly broke your heart.  Sure, the adult Tony was a handful, and you were sure that this younger version was too, but in this moment, he was a little kid who just wanted to learn and not get in trouble for it.  He just wanted his imagination to be accepted.

"Yeah, I suppose," he replied quietly and uncertainly, "I'll be really careful anyway, I promise."

"Okay, let's go see what we have in here," you nodded, standing to take his hand and lead him in. You paused once the threshold was crossed, smiling at the small Bruce Banner sitting at a workstation with an oversized lab coat and glasses that were far to big for his face.   

Bruce

"Hi, Tony.  Hi, (Y/N)," the young doctor greeted with a shy voice, adjusting his glasses that were held on by an elastic strap that he had fashioned around the back of his head.  "I wasn't sure where else to go, so I thought it would be safe to stay in here."

You sat Tony up on one of the seats next to Bruce and moved to see what he was working on.  "That looks really complicated, Bruce, what is it?"

"Um, do you really want to know?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't, right?"

He cleared his throat quietly and nodded, the glasses shaking with him as his head moved.  "That's not necessarily true, (Y/N).  It's not uncommon for people to ask me what I'm learning or working on, only to chastise me and make me feel bad because I don't relate to other children my age.  Well, even some adults, I would imagine."

Even as a child, he was so far beyond where he should be in his verbal skills and level of intelligence. You could see how it would be easy for a kid like Bruce to be ostracized by his peers and left to spend much of his childhood alone.  He was so polite and caring of an individual, one of the best people that you had come to know, that to think of anyone speaking poorly of him made you angry.

"Bruce, I would love it if you showed me what you were working on.  Teach me something amazing, okay?"  You rested your elbows on the workstation and held your head in your hands as you watched him, Tony soon joining in.

"Wow, Banner," Tony laughed, "you're almost as big of a nerd as I am!  How cool is this?" 

~~~

You went back to the lounge for Natasha, but by the time you had finished with Bruce and Tony she was gone. "Guys, do you know where Nat went?"

"I think she went to the gym.  She's always in the gym," Clint rolled his eyes and said mockingly. 

"Hey, watch the attitude," you scolded, pointing at him in warning.  "I'll be back for you in a minute, young man."

"Oooh, you're in trouble," Steve laughed, but it soon turned into a fit of sneezes that caught your worried attention just before you left the room.

Natasha

The sounds of loud grunts and kicks from outside the gym door confirmed Clint's prediction; Natasha had retreated to her favorite spot in the tower.  Before opening the door to a possible assault or random flying piece of workout equipment, you peeked through the window for the clearing to enter.

"Hey, Nat.  What's going on?"

She turned with a startle at the sound of your voice, looking at you with sweat dripping from her forehead and her breaths quick and ragged.  "I was just practicing my marks.  I've just about got them perfect.  I've only missed once, I swear.  I think if I get another hour or so, I'll have it."  The small version of your friend turned away again, returning to her violent attack on the heavy bag, impressively hitting it hard enough to nearly knock it from its supports.

"Nat, you don't have to be perfect.  You're already the most skilled fighter on the team.  You're the most skilled fighter that I've ever seen."  Cautiously taking a few steps closer to her, you reached out and took a hold of her arm, but you caught her off guard; before you had a chance to release her, she flipped you flat on your back.

"See?  Told you," you coughed as you caught your breath.  "I'm twice your size, Nat, and you didn't even struggle."

"No, but my form was sloppy. I hesitated."

"Honey, look at me," you groaned, stretching the hit out of your muscles as you stood, "you don't need to try to be perfect.  You already are.  And everyone here knows it, okay?  Please don't be so hard on yourself.  Those days are long gone."

"I don't know, (Y/N)..."

You walked towards the door to leave, but when she turned away you rushed her from behind and grabbed her by the throat.  Using her shorter stature to her advantage, she ducked and slipped between your legs, knocking you down solidly from behind with her knee in your back and your hair curled around her hand.

"See?" you chuckled with a strained voice, "perfect."

Clint

"Alright, mister, have you gotten that attitude in check?"

"You're not the boss of me, (Y/N)," he replied, sitting on the couch with his phone, playing something that held his attention more than anything you had to say.  "I don't have to listen to you."

Steve sat silently with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock at Clint's boldness.

Already tired from only just over an hour of watching them, you dropped yourself onto the couch next to the junior Clint and looked over his shoulder at what he was doing.  "No, you don't, and that's fine by me.  So tell me what you're playing instead."

"You wouldn't get it."

"Try me."

With a long and annoyed sigh he began, going on and on about the logistics of his game, the intricate details of the various levels and how to reach each of them, the graphics, the sounds, and even how he thought the names of the characters were poorly chosen and what he would do instead.  He had only been a kid for an hour and he had mastered the game, just about to begin re-coding it to his liking.

"So, it's like Galaga," you nodded, smirking over at Steve, who had no idea what any of it was.

The look on Clint's face was one that you'd never forget, a mix of embarrassment and exasperation.  "It's nothing like Galaga," he whispered angrily, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

"I know, Clint, I'm just messing with you."  Even as an adult, he was easily riled up when he became flustered, and even though it was a bit unfair of you to egg him on, you were trying to show him how it felt to be on the receiving end of his sarcasm and attitude.  The plan fell apart when you remembered his history and the loss of his parents at a young age, understanding why he used those methods to cope.  "You must play games on your own a lot, huh?  You have a really good understanding of this one."

"What else is there for me to do?  Mom and dad are gone, and archery isn't even a challenge for me anymore."

"Well, I've never shot an arrow, maybe you could teach me?"

"Really?" he perked up immediately, sitting up straight with a huge grin on his face.  "No one ever wants to learn!  They all say it's stupid and not really a sport.  Well I think they're stupid."

You took the game from his hand and patted him on the arm, pushing him up from the couch, "tell you what. Let me take care of Steve, and I'll meet you at the range in about fifteen minutes, alright?"

He gave you a thumbs-up as he ran away, leaving you with Steve, still looking at you in awe that you didn't spank Barton then and there for saying you weren't the boss. 

Steve

You stood and were about to ask your final teammate what he wanted to do, but Steve stood and ran to your side, rubbing his nose on horribly oversized sleeve.  "(Y/N), I don't feel very good.  I'm all stuffy and my throat itches.  This ear hurts too," he whined, pulling on his left ear.

"Oh, crap," you groaned, having no idea how to take care of a sick child.  Obviously his super soldier body didn't come along for the age regression trip.  "Okay, Steve. Um...let's go upstairs and get you into bed.  We can find something for you to sleep in."

"Okay," he sighed, rubbing his nose again.

"Steve, please stop wiping your snot on your sleeve.  That's just gross."  You took his hand and led him to the nearest bathroom, grabbing the box of tissues to offer him one.  "I'm not about to get sick, Cap.  Use these, then wash those hands."

"I wanna lay down," he pouted.  "I'm thirsty too.  I'm so tired. Can you carry me?"

The last question shocked you and you spun around to look down at him.  He was giving you his best pleading expression, one that he used every now and again even as an adult.  Those blue eyes were just as big as ever, and you still couldn't resist.  "Ugh, Steve, do I have to?"

He held up his arms, the giant sleeves following gravity and falling to reveal his pale and skinny limbs. You reached down and grabbed under them, lifting him to rest on your hip as he wrapped his arms around your neck and rested his head on your shoulder.  "Thanks, (Y/N).  You're the best."  A grimace crossed your face at the sound of a loud sniffle, followed by the sensation of his nose wiping across your shirt.  "I've always liked you the best."

"Steve, seriously! Tissues!"  You heard him laugh with a gravely voice, but it quickly turned into a harsh cough.  "Okay, Cap. Let's get you changed into something more comfortable and get you into bed."

Wow, that sounded so much better in my head.

~~~

You had successfully occupied each member of your team for nearly four hours.  There was only five minutes to go when Thor appeared behind you and put his hands on your shoulders, attempting to rub the tension from them as you sat quietly with a cold pack over your eyes.

"I'm going to kill you. You and that brother of yours," you whispered in your best menacing tone.  "And then, I'm going to slowly kill my teammates one by one."

"I find that hard to believe, my lady.  From what I can see, you took remarkable care of your friends."

"What else was I going to do?"  Pulling the coolness from your eyes, you raised your arm to look at your watch, immediately thankful that your teammates should now be their normal, full-grown selves, and you were off the hook.  "I wasn't about to leave them."

"That's why we love you, despite your ridiculous talent at pranking us," Natasha said from the stairway, entering the room looking like her beautiful, adult self.  She knelt on the couch and kissed your cheek, pulling back to take your face in her hands.  "You are amazing, and I will never forget this."

Clint entered behind her, jogging up and grabbing you in a tight hug from behind.  "She's right, (Y/N).  You're a natural, even if you'd never admit it.  You're aim, though?  Not so much a natural, sorry."

"Thanks, guys," you replied sheepishly, glancing up at Thor, who still maintained his wide grin at the turn of events. 

Steve took a few minutes to arrive, his hair messy from sleep and still wearing your ACDC t-shirt that Tony had given you for Christmas.  His muscles bulged out from the fabric so much so that you were worried he was going to ruin it.  "(Y/N), I'm not sure what happened, it's a little groggy for me.  Can you tell me how I ended up in your bed and wearing your shirt?"

"Maybe another time, Cap," you winked, "not sure if you want the group to hear that."

His cheeks immediately turned red and he took his place at the end of the couch away from the others. He glanced up at you and winked back with a slight nod; you knew that he remembered more than he was letting on.

Finally, Bruce and Tony made their way into the room, talking together excitedly about a new discovery that they had made while working together for the past several hours. "(Y/N)!  Thank you for knowing to put us in there together!" Bruce exclaimed, walking by to ruffle your hair playfully, "we actually got so much done! I had a whole new perspective on everything!"

"Glad I could help?" you chuckled, waiting for Tony's input on the whole experience.  "How about you, Stark?  What did you think of your genius prank?"

"Overall, I think it was worth it," he said, nodding in agreement with his own words.  "I just have one question.  Since when do I wear underwear, and why do you have them on me so tight?"