Part 1
Brooklyn, New York
"Damn it, Alexei," Yelena grumbled, throwing her phone onto the coffee table of their Brooklyn apartment.
Kate emerged from Yelena's bedroom, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and buttoning up Yelena's white shirt, now hers. A pout tugged at her lips. "Leaving so soon?" she asked.
Yelena paused, feeling a pang of guilt. "Duty calls, malyshka," she said, already pulling a battered suitcase from under the bed. "Looks like my idiot 'father' has gotten himself in trouble again. Marrakesh this time."
Kate's eyes widened with a mix of concern and a carefully concealed flicker of something else. "Marrakesh?" she echoed, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. "That doesn't sound good."
Yelena smirked, "When does it ever with Alexei?" She tossed essentials into her suitcase, the familiar rhythm of packing a comforting distraction from the unease bubbling beneath the surface.
Kate watched her, arms still crossed, a hint of hurt in her eyes. "And you have to go running right now?," she said.
Yelena sighed. "He's family," she said simply, as if that explained everything. Then, as if reading Kate's mind, she added, "And no, you can't come. You need to rest that arm, remember?"
A sly grin spread across Kate's face. "Who says I can't come? I'm sure Marrakesh has some lovely physical therapy facilities."
Yelena shot her an unamused look. "Don't even think about it, Kate Bishop."
Kate held Yelena's gaze for a moment, a silent challenge sparking between them. Then, she sighed, a hint of resignation in her voice. "Okay, okay, fine. I'll stay."
But before Yelena could turn back to her packing, Kate added, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "But on one condition..."
Yelena raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Let me guess, a quick going away present?"
Kate's cheeks flushed, but she didn't back down. "He can wait a few more minutes," she whispered, leaning closer, running her hand down Yelena’s belly and tracing the line of her panties.
Yelena closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips. Damn it. Why did Bishop always know how to get to her?
"Fine," she muttered, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "But we make it quick. My idiot father can wait a few more minutes."
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Marrakesh, Morocco
Fourteen hours later, under the neon glow of Marrakesh's bustling night market, Yelena's senses tingled with a familiar alertness.
She felt a presence behind her, a shadow clinging to her movements.
With a swift, practiced motion, she whirled around and grabbed the figure, slamming them against the nearest wall.
A glint of steel flashed in the moonlight as she pressed a knife to the intruder's throat.
A gasp escaped the figure's lips, and Yelena's eyes narrowed as she tried to discern their identity in the darkness. A flash of defiance sparked in the figure's eyes, a glint that was strangely familiar.
"Who the hell are you?" Yelena hissed, her voice dangerously low.
"Just your friendly neighborhood Hawkeye, here for takeout," came the reply, a hint of amusement lacing the trembling voice.
Recognition hit Yelena like a shockwave.
Kate.
Of course it was Kate.
A whirlwind of emotions swirled within her – anger, relief, disbelief, and a strange, unfamiliar warmth that spread through her chest.
She slowly lowered her knife, the tension in her body easing.
"Kate?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The figure nodded, a nervous smile playing on her lips.
"Surprise," Kate breathed, her eyes searching Yelena's face for a reaction.
Yelena's mind raced. This was not part of the plan. The mission was supposed to be quick, clean, in and out. No complications. And definitely no Kate Bishop.
"What are you doing here?" Yelena finally managed, her voice tight with a mixture of annoyance and incredulity.
"Couscous?" Kate said, holding up a bag with two takeout containers.
Yelena released a long sigh, running a hand through her hair. "You're unbelievable," she muttered, but a hint of amusement softened her words.
Kate shrugged, stepping out of the shadows and into the dim light of the market. "Hey, I thought you might be hungry. But it’s fine, I can eat your couscous if you don’t want it."
Yelena raised an eyebrow. "Oh I see what you’re doing, Kate Bishop. Very clever."
Kate gave her an innocent look, “What?”
Yelena sighed, “OK, just give me the couscous. I’m starving. But you better have two forks this time.”
They settled on a nearby stoop, the scent of spices filling the air as they ate in silence.
"So," Kate began hesitantly, "any luck finding your dad?"
Yelena glanced back at her, “Not yet.”
"I hope he's okay," Kate said softly, her voice laced with concern.
Yelena's gaze sharpened. "You worried about Alexei now?"
Kate's cheeks flushed, her eyes darting away. "Well, he is your dad..."
A tense silence settled between them.
Yelena stared at Kate, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place.
"What happened between you two last year?" Yelena asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Kate's face paled, her eyes widening in alarm. "What are you talking about?"
Yelena didn't blink. "Don't lie to me, Kate Bishop."
“What… you mean…” Kate screwed up her face, “Ew, gross, that’s so wrong - he’s your dad!”
“I knew it. You fucked him,” Yelena said, throwing down her couscous container, “Seriously, Kate Bishop!”
“I’m sorry! I was really distraught after my mom’s betrayal, and, I don’t know, my therapist said I have a weakness for father figures…”
“He’s so dead,” Yelena spat out, “They better have killed him, because if they haven’t, I’ll do it myself.”
“I didn’t fuck him, I swear,” Kate blurted out, “His cock was waaay too big.”
“Oh my god,” said Yelena, sticking her fingers in her ears, “Naaa naaa I can’t hear you.” and she marched off down a side street, shouting out one more, “He’s so dead!”.
Kate ran her hands through her hair and let out a deep sigh.
Looking back, she could barely believe it either.
But at the time she couldn’t resist.
Maybe it was losing her own dad.
And Alexei was so warm and loving and funny.
The memory of that night came back to her...
Marrakesh, Morocco
Fourteen hours later, under the neon glow of Marrakesh's bustling night market, Yelena's senses tingled with a familiar alertness.
She felt a presence behind her, a shadow clinging to her movements.
With a swift, practiced motion, she whirled around and grabbed the figure, slamming them against the nearest wall.
A glint of steel flashed in the moonlight as she pressed a knife to the intruder's throat.
A gasp escaped the figure's lips, and Yelena's eyes narrowed as she tried to discern their identity in the darkness. A flash of defiance sparked in the figure's eyes, a glint that was strangely familiar.
"Who the hell are you?" Yelena hissed, her voice dangerously low.
"Just your friendly neighborhood Hawkeye, here for takeout," came the reply, a hint of amusement lacing the trembling voice.
Recognition hit Yelena like a shockwave.
Kate.
Of course it was Kate.
A whirlwind of emotions swirled within her – anger, relief, disbelief, and a strange, unfamiliar warmth that spread through her chest.
She slowly lowered her knife, the tension in her body easing.
"Kate?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The figure nodded, a nervous smile playing on her lips.
"Surprise," Kate breathed, her eyes searching Yelena's face for a reaction.
Yelena's mind raced. This was not part of the plan. The mission was supposed to be quick, clean, in and out. No complications. And definitely no Kate Bishop.
"What are you doing here?" Yelena finally managed, her voice tight with a mixture of annoyance and incredulity.
"Couscous?" Kate said, holding up a bag with two takeout containers.
Yelena released a long sigh, running a hand through her hair. "You're unbelievable," she muttered, but a hint of amusement softened her words.
Kate shrugged, stepping out of the shadows and into the dim light of the market. "Hey, I thought you might be hungry. But it’s fine, I can eat your couscous if you don’t want it."
Yelena raised an eyebrow. "Oh I see what you’re doing, Kate Bishop. Very clever."
Kate gave her an innocent look, “What?”
Yelena sighed, “OK, just give me the couscous. I’m starving. But you better have two forks this time.”
They settled on a nearby stoop, the scent of spices filling the air as they ate in silence.
"So," Kate began hesitantly, "any luck finding your dad?"
Yelena glanced back at her, “Not yet.”
"I hope he's okay," Kate said softly, her voice laced with concern.
Yelena's gaze sharpened. "You worried about Alexei now?"
Kate's cheeks flushed, her eyes darting away. "Well, he is your dad..."
A tense silence settled between them.
Yelena stared at Kate, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place.
"What happened between you two last year?" Yelena asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Kate's face paled, her eyes widening in alarm. "What are you talking about?"
Yelena didn't blink. "Don't lie to me, Kate Bishop."
“What… you mean…” Kate screwed up her face, “Ew, gross, that’s so wrong - he’s your dad!”
“I knew it. You fucked him,” Yelena said, throwing down her couscous container, “Seriously, Kate Bishop!”
“I’m sorry! I was really distraught after my mom’s betrayal, and, I don’t know, my therapist said I have a weakness for father figures…”
“He’s so dead,” Yelena spat out, “They better have killed him, because if they haven’t, I’ll do it myself.”
“I didn’t fuck him, I swear,” Kate blurted out, “His cock was waaay too big.”
“Oh my god,” said Yelena, sticking her fingers in her ears, “Naaa naaa I can’t hear you.” and she marched off down a side street, shouting out one more, “He’s so dead!”.
Kate ran her hands through her hair and let out a deep sigh.
Looking back, she could barely believe it either.
But at the time she couldn’t resist.
Maybe it was losing her own dad.
And Alexei was so warm and loving and funny.
The memory of that night came back to her...
Remembering that night made Kate realize she still might have feelings for Alexei.
Was that why she came?
But she was angry at him too.
Either way, she'd have to figure this out later.
Kate grabbed her bag and ran down the side street after Yelena.
PART 2
Coming soon!
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