there is a slight possibility that these next few fic's are already in this so if they are pls comment lol

There is a very long list of things that Hope-Formerly-van-Dyne-Pym is good at.

The long list includes martial arts, engineering and convincing investors to throw all their money at whatever vague idea Darren Cross came up with. The short list includes fucking everything and kicking butt. Unfortunately, Hope has found, being excellent at almost everything means that in the rare case that you suck at something, you're fucking awful at them.

Case in point: she has been resolutely not dating Scott Lang (Scott, who cups her face gently when they kiss, who doesn't rush things, who looks at her like she's something to be treasured) for four months.

(And here, as an aside, is another thing she's awful at: romantic fucking relationships. And it's not because of the strong, independent female thing, really, it's more about the not really seeing the big deal about it thing. But then Scott comes along with his earnest brown eyes and makes her want to try, want to really try and sometimes it makes her want to punch him again because how fucking dare he drag her into what is bordering on a positive romantic relationship. How dare he.)

Anyway, the point is: Hope is awful with kids. Always has been, always will be and she's apparently picked the worst time ever to drop in on her not-boyfriend at his brand new Avenger-approved apartment.

She's not really trying to be spontaneous, it's more the case that she's just dropped in on her dad and even though he's given her the Wasp suit he's still of two minds about her actually using it.

Deep down, Hope gets it. He gets it because when Scott suited up she felt an ache and she'd only known him a few days, she can't imagine how it'd feel if they'd known each other for years.

(Except she can now, sort of. Her dad's shown her videos of her mom in action now, test flights and combat drills and beyond the buzz of that was the year you left me with the nanny for months, there was the pride, there was the fear.)

She needs a drink and a rant and now Darren's gone (and yeah, she knows at the end he was a fucking psycho but once upon a time he was the closest thing she ever had to a best friend) Scott's the best she's got.

So she stomps up the steps to the penthouse suit and hammers on the door, hair rumpled from where her fingers have woven through it one too many times, expecting Scott to answer with that dumb surprised grin and maybe a few cold beers but no.

What she gets is Scott, red faced and frantic, opening the door in a harried manner. His eyes go wide when he sees her and then he's smiling, yanking her in by the arm (and Scott never yanks her, never pushes her, he treats her like she's made of fucking glass even though he knows she could snap his neck if she were so inclined.)

"Cassie's sick," he's saying, pulling her after him through the hallway. "It's the first time Maggie's let me have her over night and I can't take her with me."

Hope's alarms are already blaring because "sick" and "kid" are not words she wants to be anywhere near.

"And I need to go to the store for medicine and, I don't know, chicken soup except Cassie hates chicken soup so I'm thinking minestrone? But does that have the same effect?"

He pauses and it takes her a few moments to realise that he's actually genuinely asking her.

"Uh," she says. (And he's looking at her with those big brown eyes that make her feel a little like she's falling.) "Yeah, that'll do fine. It's more about the hydration and the heat anyway."

(He looks so fucking relieved.)

"Great! Great. Now, I know you said you didn't really want to be involved like this but would you please watch her? I'll be like five minutes. Or maybe an hour. Please, Hope?"

And she can't exactly say no, can she?

-

Here's the thing: Hope is well aware of the fact that she checks every box on the Rich Kid With Daddy Issues checklist, it's something Tony Stark used to love pointing out to her on the not so rare occasions they met.

He'd say: You can pretend all you want, Princess. You're the same as me, you're just better at hiding it.

And she'd say: Thank you for your thoughts on the matter, Mr Stark. And she'd think: You're still not getting a fucking peep out of me, and walk away.

Tony's quieter these days, since he almost destroyed the world with a fucking robot.

(And that's the moment she realises Darren's going too far. The moment she realises that as much as she wants to stick it to her dad the world can't be trusted with Pym particles and tech like the Ant-Man suit. Tony Stark may have changed his genocidal ways but the rest of the world sure hasn't.)

So yeah, she might be a walking, angry cliché but in this day and age, who isn't?

Her dad wasn't ever awful, she knows that. He pushed her away instead of beating her black and blue, he lied to her and couldn't look her in the eyes but he never got drunk and called her names.

That doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

That doesn't mean it didn't mess her up.

Her mom died when she was seven years old but somehow, it feels like she lost both her parents.

Lately, things have been different, but it's been a slow change. She visits her dad everyday in the hospital after the heist (she doesn't exactly mean to, she just keeps finding herself there.)

"I was so worried when we found out Janet was pregnant," he tells her, doped up on morphine. "I didn't sleep for a week! I was up researching names and schools and the best positions for cribs! Your mother laughed so much. Of course, with me so worried she put a brave face on things," here he pauses, reaches out to stroke a thumb across her cheek bone.

"It was only after you were born and sleeping safe and sound in her arms that she told me how scared she'd been," he laughs, "She thought because of all the growing and the shrinking that you might be born ant sized or worse!"

-

Cassie Lang is exactly the kind of kid Scott would have.

Long dark hair, button nose, those darn brown eyes. She's nestled in at least four blankets, clutching the most hideous toy rabbit Hope's ever seen and sniffling slightly.

By Hope's diagnoses she has a mild cold but Scott's treating it like she'll keel over any second.

He's by her side as soon as they enter the room, leaning on the bed, one hand smoothing her hair back, the other propping himself up, "Peanut, this is Hope. Remember I told you about her?"

Cassie nods and smiles up at her (Scott's smile.) Hope gives a smile she hopes isn't overly business-like.

"Well, Hope's gonna watch you for a little while while I run to the store, okay?"

Cassie bites her lower lip (Scott doesn't do that - must be something she got from her mother,) "You'll be back soon, right?"

He kisses her sweaty forehead, "Of course."

She nods when he pulls away, "Then okay. Get some grape juice as well, okay?"

Scott smiles, "Sure, anything else?"

"Um. A puppy?" she suggests with glee.

"How about we talk about that a bit later?"

Cassie seems satisfied and Scott's moving to leave so Hope grabs his arm, "I don't know if I can - "

He shakes his head, smiles, "Come on, Hope, you did a great job of babysitting me," he says, low in her ear. "And Cassie's half my size and only bites half as hard."

He presses a kiss to her cheek and then he's gone, leaving Hope alone with his daughter.

Hope hovers, unsure of what to do (give her million dollar business meetings or fucking super villains over this.) Cassie sits in her pile of blankets, gazing up at her and after a while she must realise that Hope is not going to move unless prompted, "You can come sit down, you know. I don't bite."

"That's not what your dad says," Hope murmurs but she obeys, perching awkwardly on the edge of the little girl's bed.

Cassie smiles, "You're prettier than Daddy's other friends."

Hope frowns and Cassie must catch something in that because she quickly adds, "Like Uncle Luis."

Hope arches a brow, "Does your mom know that Scott's letting you hang around with them?"

Cassie scrunches up her nose, "No, it's a secret. But they're really fun! Kurt can find movies that aren't even out yet!" She tells Hope, excitedly.

"I bet he can," Hope mutters.

They fall into an awkward silence and Hope starts to wonder whether she should offer to get Cassie a glass of water or find a movie to put on but then Cassie sits forwards, studying her intensely, "My daddy says you taught him how to fight," she says, a little hesitantly.

"I - yes, I did."

Cassie's eyes light up, "Could you teach me?"

Hope's caught a little off guard by this, "I - I don't know if - "

Suddenly, Cassie shrugs off her blankets, pushing herself to her feet and tottering slightly as the soft mattress settles underneath her (Hope throws out a hand to steady her without thinking, Cassie beams and Hope withdraws her hand rather quickly.)

"Come on, I need to learn how to fight in case the bad guys come back and Daddy's busy!"

There's something in Hope that breaks a little at that. This kid is seven years old and she's already excepted that her dad might not be around next time things go wrong. (Hope was nine when she figured that out, nine and in boarding school pounding her fists on the wooden floors and screaming on the anniversary of her mom's death, waiting for a father who never came.)

But Cassie doesn't look frightened or angry or determined, she looks matter-a-fact, maybe even a little excited.

"Cassie," she says, very seriously. "You know your daddy and his friends will never, ever let that happen, right?"

Cassie nods, "Yeah, I know. Daddy even introduced me to the 'Vengers and they all said the same. He said he wouldn't join their team unless they promised. But just in case, right?" she adds with an impish smile. "And don't say I'm too young! They have karate classes at school for kids my age!"

"Why don't you join one then?"

Cassie rolls her eyes, "Paxton says they're a waste of money and he can teach me but he's busy a lot with work. And besides," she beams again, "Daddy said you're the best fighter he knows."

Hope's cheeks colour a little, "Look, Cassie - "

"What else are we gonna do?" Cassie interrupts. "You could at least teach me to punch, Daddy says that's most important."

"Cassie."

She leans forward then, bends down so they're at eye level and says, "I won't tell my dad, I promise."

And she's right, teaching Cassie how to fight is probably the only thing Hope knows how to do properly. She had to teach younger kids when she learnt so she's got the experience. But still...

"Cassie, you're sick."

Cassie laughs, "Not really! Daddy just gets so worried!" she springs off the bed and takes what Hope assumes is her idea of a fighting stance. "Come on, Hope! Please?"

It's the same tone Scott used, the same look.

Hope groans.

She can add refusing Langs to the short list of things she's terrible at.

-

Cassie picks it up a lot faster than her dad did, then again Cassie seems to have the ability to pay attention without making a smart remark every few minutes.

Scott gets home earlier than Hope thought he would and barely has time to open his mouth before Cassie's on him crowing, "Look Daddy! Hope taught me how to punch!"

Which she then demonstrates on Scott's gut.

Hope's honestly not sure whether he pretends to be winded or is actually winded.

Either way it's a good thing he got extra tylenol.