Chapter Text
YPOV
“‘Nother pleaz.”
The bartender raises an eyebrow at her with an amused smile before going to pour another shot of vodka. You’d think the first two would’ve set in by now, but the Russian's slurring has less to do with the intoxication and more to do with how exhausted and mentally drained she is.
When the bartender arrives a moment later to deliver her next shot and she downs it without a thought, he pauses cautiously, "Maybe you'd like some pretzels with that? Or some food from the grille?" When all he receives is a glare for his efforts, he raises his hands in surrender before walking away and filling another shot glass. Yelena holds onto this one though, giving her third shot a moment to settle before royally screwing herself over.
The bartender seems to know better than to mess with her tonight. If anyone gave a second glance to the all-black tactical gear she wore into the bar, they didn’t say anything. She imagines she looks about as lost and desperate as she feels. So that’s why she’s here… not killing Barton… because the old man had to tug at her heartstrings and remind her that Tasha would not want her little sister murdering her oldest friend. The sigh that leaves her makes her shoulders droop even lower than they were before as she stares ahead blankly.
If Barton is not to blame, then who?
Yelena was not taught how to handle her emotions well. Granted, she spent most of her childhood, her teen years, and part of her young adulthood being controlled by a monster, so if she ever had any genuine feelings during that time, she has no idea. But now that she’s free, now that she’s left up to her own devices, the spy has discovered that she actually has many emotions.. many big, unnamed emotions that tend to get her in a lot of trouble. She knows that the one she’s feeling now is anger… or perhaps fury or wrath. Her fingers tap absently at the bar, and she purses her lips at the thought. Somehow anger doesn’t seem to quite cut it. Maybe rage…
The Russian woman takes a second to look down at her other hand, the one that’s holding onto the glass so tightly she has to remind herself to relax before she breaks it.
“Yes… rage,” the blonde nods, speaking quietly to herself, “this is good.”
None of the other patrons of the bar are around to hear her, not that she’d let them close enough. They’d been avoiding her since the last guy who approached her nearly got his arm broken for stepping a little too close for comfort. But it’s for the best that they keep away. Rage… Yelena nods again. Someone needs to pay for her sister's life, and if it isn’t Barton, then who?
She only walked away from the aging Avenger an hour before, and she was already regretting that decision. The assassin came to the city for revenge, and now she’s left wanting. Outside of taking on all of the Avengers themselves, who else did she really have to blame? Thanos? He was already gone. Dreykov? She'd finished him off herself. So, all that was left was Barton… Tasha's friend… the one who could have- no, should have stopped her from being the idiot she was. Yelena grinds her teeth together, wondering if she should return to the ice rink to look for him when another voice pokes at the back of her mind.
“He is not perfect, nobody’s perfect, but he is good.”
“ahhh!” Yelena doesn’t even try to mute her volume as she faceplants on the bar loudly. She leaves her head there, occasionally lifting it to knock her forehead against the wood as if she can somehow knock the younger archer’s voice out of her thoughts.
Kate Bishop
The blonde tsks at herself as she raises up to throw back her shot. The vodka burns at her throat, and she squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on the feeling, but it seems the more she tries not to think about the brown-haired girl with the innocent eyes, the more she does. Yelena flops back in her chair in defeat, and her eyes glaze over as she pictures the aspiring Hawkeye again, sitting across the table from her over a pot of macaroni and cheese.
She can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. Motioning to the bartender for another drink, she loses herself in thought again, this time not focusing on the soul-aching, crushing feeling in her chest at the thought of Natasha, but rather the confusion she feels for the tall girl who she only met days before.
Who is this woman?
Yelena met many women during her days of freeing the widows - some she knew, others she didn't. But that was a different situation: waking someone up and sitting with them as the trauma manifests itself in their fully conscious minds… It's never a fun experience. Kate Bishop, however, is probably the first person outside of her family and her job that she'd ever sat and chatted with for more than just a passing interaction. It should have just been a passing interaction - she shouldn't have engaged with the tall, bumbling athlete outside of their fights, but something drew her to the younger woman and she couldn't quite understand what it was.
As irritating as Kate had been, halting any progress the assassin tried to make in her efforts to kill Barton, she still only thought fondly of the girl. From the first moment she met her up on that rooftop, she didn’t know what to make of her. She was clearly in over her head, Yelena chuckles. Trying to take on, not one, but two skilled killers, and yet she still never backed down. Even when Barton gave her an out, she immediately climbed back up to the roof to rescue him.
The assassin isn’t sure what it was about that initial fight that stuck with her. When Yelena had escaped and fled back to her seedy motel, she hardly thought of Barton at all, but rather the inexperienced fangirl that tagged along with him. It was clear from the get-go that Kate looked up to the Avenger, but why? What had he done to deserve fans? When it was her sister who’d saved the world. Yet there Kate was, all brave faced and determined to fight alongside him. Someone clearly needed to talk some sense into the girl. It didn’t necessarily need to be Yelena, because why would the young hawk even listen to her? But before she could think it through, the widow was changing out of her tactical gear and into her comfortable street clothes before tracking down the unsuspecting girl’s apartment. Did she also take some time to fix her hair and put on some makeup? Well, of course she did. She wanted to appear as normal as possible to not scare the girl, didn't she?
She didn’t know what to suspect when she revealed herself to Kate that night - a bottle of hot sauce flying at her head definitely was not it, but even that the Russian spy found amusing. Pretty soon she found herself sitting down and having dinner with the young woman she’d been fighting only hours before. What was she doing? Why did she come there? Why did she feel drawn to this woman? She didn’t even know. Kate Bishop was not a widow in need of rescuing. This girl was her enemy and yet Yelena had cooked for her, joked with her and used the excuse of wanting some recommendations on tourist attractions to get the girl to loosen up and talk to her… just, for what? To get to know her better? But then, as soon as Barton’s name came up, her mood darkened and she remembered why she was there. She questioned Kate about her loyalty to the aging Avenger, but every answer she got only served to piss her off and make her more determined to seek him out. The seasoned assassin tried to get through to her, but she refused to listen, deciding in the end that she still sided with the “good guys”.
Yelena left Kate that night with a warning. While she enjoyed the young woman’s company, she still felt unsettled as she repelled down the side of her building. Yes, she was worried that the archer would get hurt if she continued to follow Barton, but the blonde also didn’t like the feeling of taking away someone Kate trusted. She was innocent and maybe even impressionable… And the Avenger had definitely left an impression; his death would devastate her.
But Yelena came here to do a mission, and she always completes her objectives. She only hoped the young hawk wouldn't be there to witness it.
So, when she tracked down Barton at the Bishop's charity event (surprise, surprise) she didn't hesitate to chase after him when the party went to shit. Kate got involved again, despite her warning not to, and Yelena lost her target… again.. but this time due to her own emotional attachments.
"это ерунда," ("this is bullshit ") she curses under her breath before throwing back her fifth shot of the evening. This time when she signals to the bartender for another drink, he makes his way over carrying only a wary expression. Yelena looks at him expectantly, and, noticing he's empty handed, she gives him a look that clearly reads, "What the hell?"
"Look, I can either bring you some food or bring you a check," the large man shakes his head with a frown, "But I'm cutting the drinks off."
Yelena gives him the largest eye roll she can muster while cursing at him in her native tongue. "Y'know what?" she gripes, her accent growing thicker with her irritation. She gets up then and slams some money on the bar top, "Don't bother." When she spins around to leave, she nearly collides with the bouncer who clearly thought she needed an escort.
"O ублюдок," ("oh fucker ") she staggers a bit and has to tilt her head back to make eye contact with the large man, "Are you serious?" Instead of waiting for an answer, the assassin looks back to the bartender flabbergasted, "Is he serious?" But she doesn't have the patience for this shit. "глупая cука," ("stupid bitch ") the blonde spits out a few choice words as she steps around the bouncer to the door. Before he can push her out though, she turns back to the bartender to yell loudly, "You need to build up your tolerance if you can't handle five shots, cволочь." And the bouncer quickly guides her out the door with a firm hand on her shoulder. "не трогай меня!" ("Don't touch me! ") Yelena slaps his hand away more forcefully than she needs to, and he backs off, "I'm going."
As soon as she’s outside, she tilts her head up and takes a deep breath of the chilly winter air, letting it fill her lungs to a painful degree, briefly relishing in the crispness that calms her frayed nerves. Once she’s more centered, the assassin continues down the street until she comes across the nearest liquor store. The store clerk doesn't even give her a second glance when she purchases a drink to continue her own private pity party, and then she continues on her way.
Yelena doesn't know where she's going anymore, just letting her feet carry her aimlessly while she struggles to open her vodka to take a healthy swig. She has to grimace at the awful taste of cheap booze, but it'll get the job done. Her mind once again wanders to the young hawk and her attempt to get the assassin to leave with her for a drink in the middle of their fight earlier. The widow snorts and chuckles at the girl's transparency.
"She really needs to learn how to lie better," Yelena talks out loud to herself.
There are a lot of things the young woman needs to learn to do better if she wants to keep going down this path, but the assassin has to admit she's already decent at some things. She's a good fighter, a great archer, Yelena starts to check off the things mentally. "She's also funny," the blonde chuckles drunkenly, "However unintentional her humor seems to be". But that doesn't have anything to do with being an Avenger. She is loyal, and trusting, though… and determined. Yelena's eyes glaze over as she pictures the woman in her mind again. She's also tall, with a lean, muscular frame… the spy chews on her lip as she gets lost in her thoughts. And she's got really soft hair and pretty eyes…
"Yeecchh," Yelena grimaces at the sour taste of the vodka burning down her throat once again. "Whatizzit with the eyes? Why do I keep thinking about her eyes?"
Her soft, puppy dog eyes…
And that's when it hits her.
Yelena stops in her tracks as she pieces everything together.
She's trusting, eager, silly, protective of the ones she cares about, and has undying loyalty even in the face of danger…
"Oh my God," a huge smile breaks out across the spy's face, "Kate Bishop, you dog!" She cackles into the night air as she carries on her way. Kate Bishop is just a dog in the shape of a human, how did she not see it before? She is 100% just Barton's pet trying to be an Avenger.
Yelena continues to chuckle outwardly as she rounds the corner, way too pleased with her observation. The streets are nearly deserted now in the early hours of the morning. Not being able to follow any crowd, the blonde picks a direction where the buildings appear to be thinning out. Maybe then she'll be able to tell which direction her motel is in. She wonders if she should try to catch a plane out of here the next day, but the thought makes her stomach unsettled. Frowning, Yelena glares down at the bottle in her hand, assuming the shit American vodka is to blame.
"There is nothing left for me to do here," the assassin decides before taking another swig. "No point in sticking around."
But the unsettled feeling doesn't go away. With a furrowed brow, she clutches her stomach and makes her way over to a railing that seems to be overlooking some body of water. She takes several deep breaths, hoping the dense, cool air will clear her head. Briefly she considers calling the tall brunette she can't seem to stop thinking about, but immediately rolls her eyes at that idea.
"No," Yelena huffs, her eyes turning to look up at the stars, "Kate Bishop does not need to see me like this."
She’s still curious about the pull she feels towards the strange woman. Why do I want to see her again? Yelena doesn't understand. Pulling from the bottle again, she tries to rationalize it in her slightly inebriated state. Kate Bishop doesn't owe her anything or vice versa. Her quest for revenge is officially put on hold. The brunette is probably off somewhere celebrating with her idol. So, what reason did she have to see her? Why did she feel so drawn to a near stranger? Like a magnet trying to pull the spy back to the girl's demolished apartment in hopes of seeing her one last time.
"глупый," ("stupid ") she grunts at herself, and then she notices the orange tint, touching the horizon… Did she really stay out all night?
She stands there, transfixed, as the orange creeps farther and farther up, slowly illuminating the statue that stands above the water, far away from the island.
"Well, holy shit."
She got to see the new statue of liberty after all.
Only slightly intoxicated, Yelena holds up her liquor bottle in a cheers fashion to the Lady Liberty.
"Merry Christmas, New York," then she takes another swig, thinking she may need to cut herself off now as she sways slightly with the motion. Looking down at the bottle, she frowns and adds, "Merry Christmas, Kate Bishop." When she finally looks back to the statue, it's completely lit up now with the morning sun. Forcing a small grin, she continues, "I will leave your great city today, but-" she tips the bottle towards Lady Liberty again.
She smiles, more genuinely this time.
"This was fun."