Chapter Text
The wooden bench was cold against Yelena’s legs, but not enough to bother her. She swung her feet, one and then the other, as if the movement could fill the silence of the soccer field that had already emptied. The grass smelled of damp earth and old sweat, that scent that lingers after an afternoon of play. The other girls had already left with their families; the last one to leave had been Sonya, who had waved goodbye from the back window of her mom’s car.
Now, Yelena was the only kid there. Again.
She was wearing her green uniform with her socks slipping down, her backpack hanging from the back of the bench and, around her neck, her soccer cleats, still stained with dirt. Inside the backpack, her goalie gloves peeked out, damp from wearing them for too long. Coach Jason, a tall and thin man who smelled of sunscreen and mint, kept glancing at her from the fence while he picked up the training cones. His brows were furrowed with that expression Yelena already knew: the mix of patience and pity adults wore when Alexei arrived late.
It was always the same story.
But then, the sharp sound of a bicycle brake broke the stillness. Yelena jerked her head up, and a smile lit up her whole face.
"Natty!" she shouted, forgetting for a second the cold, the silence, and the loneliness.
Natalia appeared at full speed, her blue-dyed hair catching the sunset light, scraped knees and breathless as if she had crossed half the neighborhood without stopping. She wore a light jacket and her hands were still smeared with grease, probably from fixing the bike chain on the way. Her frown, serious at first, softened the moment she heard her little sister’s voice.
Yelena ran to her, and Natalia caught her in a firm hug, giving Jason a quick nod.
"I’ll take her," she said, leaving no room for argument.
Jason just nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Get home safe. See you next week, Yelena."
Natalia crouched down, took off Yelena’s soccer cleats, and slung them over her own shoulders, leaving Yelena’s hands free. Then she hoisted her little sister’s school backpack onto her back, adjusting the straps so they wouldn’t dig into her. With one hand she held the bicycle’s handlebar, and with the other she grabbed Yelena’s hand, squeezing it warmly.
"How was it, sestra?" she asked as they began to walk along the cracked sidewalk.
Yelena started telling her everything, her voice quick and full of pride: how she had played with Sonya and Anna, that no one had scored a goal on her today, that Jason said she was getting better at her jumps. Natalia listened, smiling to the side, and every now and then she made an affirming sound so Yelena would keep going.
The sky was already painted in shades of pink and orange when they turned the corner that led them home. The air felt colder, and Yelena squeezed her sister’s hand a little tighter. That was when a car horn made them both jump.
Yelena turned her head instinctively, but Natalia tugged on her hand so she would keep walking.
A maroon car, old and dented, rolled up beside them. The engine roared unevenly, and the front bumper seemed to be held in place with duct tape. Behind the wheel, Alexei looked at them with tired eyes, his voice rough as he shouted:
"Get in, both of you now!"
Natalia didn’t slow her pace. She didn’t even look at him at first. But Alexei insisted, raising his tone.
"Natalia! It’s getting dark. Get in the car!"
Natalia’s voice turned hard, sharp. Yelena shivered. "I’m not getting in anywhere with you."
"Don’t start. Just get in, we’re going home."
"If you cared so much about us getting home, you wouldn’t have forgotten to pick Yelena up from practice again!"
Alexei pressed his lips together and slammed the steering wheel with his palm. "It’s not my fault I was late!"
Yelena felt her eyes fill with tears, a hot sensation that blurred her vision. She shrank behind her sister, clutching her jacket. The car stopped abruptly, the screech of the brakes making her jump.
Alexei got out, slamming the door shut. He walked toward them, tall, broad, with that smell Yelena already knew too well: a sour mix of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat.
Natalia threw the bicycle to the ground and stepped forward, placing herself between him and Yelena.
"We’re not going anywhere! Not without mama!"
Alexei didn’t even look at her. He walked past, grabbed the bike by the handlebar, and dragged it to the car’s trunk, shoving it inside carelessly. The hollow thud echoed down the street.
Then he came back and crouched in front of Yelena, trying to soften his face, though his eyes still burned with frustration, and every time he opened his mouth, his breath reeked.
"Lena, come with Daddy, come on. Let’s go home, Milaya."
Yelena felt Natalia’s low growl, and how her hand tightened around hers, as if trying to anchor her. But her feet moved on their own, one step and then another, until she was close enough for Alexei to lift her up easily.
She sank against his chest, feeling the rough hands that held her and the warmth of his body. The smell was strong, unpleasant, but even so… he was her dad. From that high place, over his shoulder, she saw Natalia wiping her tears away with a quick, harsh gesture, as if she didn’t want anyone to see.
It was one of the last times Yelena saw them fight like that.
Because weeks later, Alexei left. And he didn’t come back. He left her, Natalia, and Melina, with a heavy silence that stayed in the house long after he was gone.
Yelena didn’t miss the stench of alcohol.
Chapter Text
Things had changed since they confessed.
Not the kind of change that sweeps everything away at once(at least, not too much) but the kind that seeps into everyday life like a new perfume: something that lingers, that wraps around everything, even if they kept doing almost the same things.
They still shared the apartment, still argued over who used the last coffee capsule, and still stole the blanket on the couch. But now… now there was a different spark in their gazes, a sweeter boldness in their smiles, a brush of hands that didn’t need justification. Kate was different too, more honest than ever, lighter. Yelena fell a little more in love with her then.
Tonight was different. They had a dinner with Melina, Natasha, and her wife Maria. Nothing serious, in theory. But for Kate, it was much more than that.
It was the first time she was going to meet Melina. And not as the “fake wife” in a silly elaborate cover, but as the person Yelena was in love with. And Kate was taking the occasion with the same seriousness a diplomat would take when preparing for an international summit.
"No." She muttered, looking at herself in the living room mirror and frowning. "Too formal… or maybe too boring." She took off the shirt, left in a white tank top, and tossed it onto the sofa, where a pile of discarded options was already growing.
On the sofa, Yelena had been ready for twenty minutes. She wore high-waisted dress pants, a military-green shirt rolled up to her elbows, and the oversized coat Kate loved hanging on the back of the couch, waiting for the moment to put it on. With a glass of water in hand, she watched the scene with quiet amusement.
"They all look the same." She remarked with amusement as Kate came out of the bedroom with another black shirt.
"They are not the same!" Kate protested. "This one is midnight black, and the other was ink black. And the white one I tried before was ivory white, not cream white."
Yelena rolled her eyes and took a sip. Then she set the glass down, leaned toward the couch, and began rummaging through the pile of abandoned shirts. She pulled out a white one with small dark buttons that she thought was nice and tossed it to Kate.
"Put it on."
"But—"
"Put it on, Bishop." She repeated in that voice that allowed no argument.
"How bossy, Bishop."
Kate obeyed, though grumbling. While she buttoned it, Yelena got up and went to one of the boxes stacked by the closet. The tie box, a stash Kate swore Yelena must have inherited from some elegant mobster. After a few seconds of searching, Yelena pulled out one in dark tones with a subtle pattern.
"This one." She said, handing it to her. At least the pants had been decided from the start. Black, dressy, well-cut, comfortable. The blazer came next: a straight-cut one with a purple detail on the chest that Kate loved. "Ready?" Yelena asked, handing her the garment.
Kate put it on, looking at herself in the mirror again. She frowned.
"I'm not sure, Yel…"
"If you change again," Yelena interrupted seriously, "I’ll go to dinner with my mother without you."
Kate let out a dramatic huff.
"Okay, okay." She adjusted the tie with her hands. "But… is there anything I should know? Any subject your family doesn’t approve of? Any forbidden joke?"
Yelena snorted. "Not that I know of."
"Great, perfect. And your dad? Do you think he’ll join us?"
Yelena froze, just for a second, but enough for her breathing to shift. Kate didn’t notice: she was too focused on aligning the knot of her tie, her tongue peeking out between her lips.
"I don’t have a father." Yelena finally said.
"So… you have another mom? Or is it…?" Kate searched for options, a little lost. "Is it someone non-binary?"
Yelena blinked, surprised by the question. Then a small laugh escaped through her nose.
"No, Kate. I don’t have a father. Just Melina."
Kate turned slowly, as if the puzzle pieces finally clicked in her head.
"Oh…" Her lips twisted into a grimace and her voice dropped, embarrassed. "I’m sorry, baby." She shuffled closer, wrapping her arms around Yelena. She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but hugged her back, this time around the neck, and started kissing her cheeks in a quick flurry that made Kate smile despite the awkward moment. "By the way... This isn’t how I pictured my first date with you." Kate confessed when they pulled apart a little.
"First date? We’ve already had dates." Yelena replied with a raised brow.
"No. Dinners with investors and my coworkers don’t count." Kate pouted. "Those weren’t dates."
Yelena hummed, playing with a strand of her hair.
"Our first date was at that grimy pizzeria in Washington, after you helped me move."
Kate’s eyes went wide. "You explicitly said it wasn’t a date!"
"Women can change their minds." Yelena said with a shrug.
Kate laughed, delighted and a little sulky.
"Well, we haven’t been able to do many couple things since…" She stopped, blushing before she could say since we confessed.
"Since…?"
Kate bit her lip, glancing away for a moment. "Since we confessed."
Yelena smiled, amused by the sudden shyness. "We already live together."
"That doesn’t count." Kate insisted, with unexpected intensity. She took her hands and, with a solemn gesture, kissed her knuckles. "After tonight, I promise you’re going to get the full cheesy package of dating Kate Bishop."
"The full package of being married?" Yelena teased.
"Exactly." Kate said, nodding in satisfaction, and stole a kiss from her.
The distraction lasted until Kate noticed Yelena’s lipstick had transferred to her lips. Yelena laughed briefly at the smudges, and Kate leaned in again, trying to kiss her once more.
"Yel…"
"No, no, no. Nope." Yelena said, pushing her away gently. "We’ve wasted enough time, we’ll be late."
Kate, still a little dazed from the kiss, nodded and grabbed her purse. Yelena took hers and slung her coat over her shoulder. At the door, Kate intertwined her fingers with hers after scratching Lucky and Fanny behind their ears.
"Ready?" She asked, and they started down the stairs.
"Long ago, you?" Yelena joked.
The street air was fresh, with that smell of rain that never comes but dampens the night. Kate walked with a mix of nerves and excitement, mentally reviewing everything she knew about Melina: brilliant scientist, strong character, protective of Yelena and Natasha. She wasn’t sure if that made her more or less intimidating.
"Do you think she’ll like me?" She asked suddenly, playing with the rings on Yelena’s fingers as they walked.
"Of course." Yelena answered without hesitation.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because you love me." Yelena said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And my mother respects people who love me."
Kate smiled, but kept biting her lip as they walked. "And Natasha?"
"Natasha already tolerates you."
"That’s not the same as liking me."
"It’s a step." Yelena gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Tonight will be easier than you think."
Kate wasn’t so convinced, but something in Yelena’s confident tone managed to ease her anxiety a little.
When they turned the corner, the restaurant appeared before them: an elegant place with warm lights and tall windows. Inside, silhouettes moved among the tables, and soft music floated in the air.
Kate took a deep breath.
The place glowed under the warm light of hanging lamps, and the murmur of conversations blended with the soft clinking of cutlery and glasses. Kate and Yelena walked along the sidewalk to the door, their steps in sync but with very different intentions: Yelena, confident as if she were going to any dinner (which she was), and Kate, who seemed to be heading to a UN hearing where her life depended on every word.
The interior was filled with the tempting aroma of freshly baked bread and fresh herbs. The wooden floor creaked softly beneath their shoes. The moment they crossed the entrance, Kate felt her stomach tighten.
"They’re already here." Yelena murmured, glancing toward a table in the corner.
Kate followed her gaze and saw them: Melina, Natasha, and Maria already seated. Melina, with her impeccable posture, straight back and hands clasped on the table, radiating quiet but firm authority. Natasha, relaxed, arms crossed and that evaluative gaze that never missed a thing. Maria, on the other hand, smiling lightly with that easy warmth that seemed to say "everything’s fine," though Kate suspected it could be deceiving.
And there, in the middle of that intimidating family portrait, Kate froze. Literally. Her feet refused to move. Yelena’s hand was still laced with hers, but her palm had gone cold.
"What’s wrong?" Yelena asked, tilting her head.
"The shirt…" Kate whispered, eyes wide. "We picked the wrong one."
Yelena blinked, incredulous. "Are you serious?"
"Yes." Kate nodded, swallowing hard. "With this I look like… I don’t know… an intern trying to impress her boss? I’ll look desperate!"
"That makes no sense." Yelena rolled her eyes. "Detka, I told you, they’re going to love you."
"And if they don’t?" Kate pressed again.
"The worst my mother could ask you is your blood type."
"That doesn’t reassure me."
"It should." Yelena said, tugging her hand gently to get her moving again.
Kate tried to nod, forcing herself to breathe deeply again. It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be fine, she repeated to herself.
But her positive thoughts crumbled the moment they reached the table.
Melina stood immediately, her movements elegant but charged with authority. She hugged Yelena tightly, kissing her cheek with an affectionate gesture that briefly softened her expression. But then she turned to Kate, and the warmth vanished.
"Katherine," she said, her firm voice carrying a slight Russian accent very much like her daughter’s. "What are your intentions with my Yelena?"
Kate froze. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"Mama!" Yelena exclaimed, scandalized.
"Not now, Lenochka." Melina replied without taking her eyes off Kate. "I’m talking to the wife."
Kate swallowed hard. She felt the blood rush to her face, her cheeks burning. She searched for Yelena’s eyes, desperate, sending her a clear "I told you so."
Natasha let out an amused huff, and Maria, chin resting on one hand, smiled openly, as if enjoying the show. Kate hated all their stares.
"I…" Kate began, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Ma’am, I… all I want is…" She paused, searching for the right words while her heart hammered. "My intentions are for Yelena and me to be together. I want to help her in any way I can and… give her all of myself, if she’ll have me."
The table went silent. Melina studied her closely, as if analyzing her under an invisible microscope. Every second stretched painfully long.
Finally, the woman nodded slowly. "That is acceptable." She extended her hand. Kate shook it, her fingers trembling slightly, relieved. "Sit down," Melina ordered, though her tone wasn’t as severe as before.
Kate took it as a small victory and obeyed, letting out a sigh. As soon as she settled into her seat, she felt Yelena’s hand rest on her thigh, pressing lightly in reassurance. She caressed her with her thumb, a small but constant massage, and then muttered something in Russian that, by the tone, Kate assumed wasn’t exactly a compliment toward her mother.
Natasha leaned toward Kate, smiling in a way Kate hadn’t seen before.
"Hey, Bishop." She greeted, as if they were old friends.
Kate blinked, surprised. "Hi…?" she replied, a little cautious.
Then she gave herself a mental smack. She realized Natasha seemed much friendlier now that there was a bigger threat at the table. As if the role of “protective, distrustful sister” had temporarily been replaced by an unexpected role of ally.
Maria spoke up, her voice soft but tinged with curiosity. "So you two were already living together before… this. And I was wondering, now that you’re dating, how have things been?"
Kate smiled faintly, grateful for the subject change, though still centered on them.
"Yes… it was… well, circumstantial. But now it’s nice."
"Circumstantial," Maria repeated, amused.
"And then not so circumstantial." Yelena added with a half-smile, which made Kate glance at her from the corner of her eye, trying not to smile too. "It’s not that bad, Kate doesn’t have that many bad habits."
Melina picked up her wine glass and swirled it lightly in her hand. "Living together is a challenge," she commented, eyes still on Kate. "A lot of people think it’s easy, but it’s not."
"I know- We know." Kate answered seriously. "And that’s why… that’s why I try hard to make it work. With Yelena."
Yelena pressed her hand a little more firmly on Kate’s thigh, like a silent “well done.”
After that, the conversation gradually relaxed as the first dishes arrived.
The smell of the food helped break the initial tension. Melina began telling an anecdote about when Yelena was little and insisted on “helping” in the home lab, which ended with an experiment full of glitter and a monumental scolding.
"It wasn’t my fault." Yelena protested, though the smile on her face betrayed her completely. "Natalia told me glitter made everything better."
"That’s true." Natasha said unapologetically. "And I don’t regret it."
Kate laughed, the tension in her shoulders finally easing.
She even dared to share a brief story about how Yelena had wrecked a blender trying to make a “protein” shake that suspiciously tasted like metal. Natasha wasted no time pointing out that for someone who was a cybersecurity genius, Yelena was terrible with any technology that wasn’t her phone or computer.
Dinner went on with jokes and knowing looks. Natasha, who had been the toughest barrier for Kate to overcome, was now passing her the bread and asking about her work projects. Maria chimed in with comments that softened Melina’s more direct questions, as if balancing things out.
But every so often, Melina shot one of her evaluative looks, as if she were still measuring Kate’s resolve or testing how far she could push before Kate short-circuited or Yelena shouted "Mama!"
Kate, for her part, began to realize she might never stop feeling a small knot in her stomach in front of Melina… but she also noticed that knot slowly turned into respect.
Yelena, who had spent most of the dinner with her hand on Kate’s or on her thigh, seemed satisfied. Every time Kate responded firmly or cleverly, her smile widened just a bit.
At the end of the night, when dessert arrived and the tension had dissolved into an almost familiar atmosphere, Melina raised her glass.
"A toast," she said, looking at each of them at the table. "To the people who take care of ours."
Kate felt the warmth rise to her face again, but this time not from nerves, but from something else: belonging.
It wasn’t a triumph, but it wasn’t so bad either.
Later, Kate and Yelena left.
The warm lights of the restaurant faded behind them, dissolving into the darkness of the street. The cool night air brushed their skin, lifting stray strands of Yelena’s hair. They walked together, slow steps, not with the urgency of escaping the cold but with the calm of wanting to prolong the moment.
Yelena was tucked against Kate’s chest, her forehead grazing her collarbone, her hands slipped under the open coat of her wife as if seeking refuge. Kate, meanwhile, wrapped her arm firmly around her shoulders, protective, as if she never wanted to let her go.
"That was terrible." Kate murmured, with a sigh that misted in the air.
Yelena let out a brief laugh that vibrated against Kate’s chest.
"It wasn’t terrible. My mother already liked you, she just…" She tilted her head just enough to meet her eyes. "She’s Russian. She doesn’t know how not to make a big first impression."
Kate arched a brow. "Big first impression, sure… I’d call it a speed interrogation."
"Exactly." Yelena replied, amused. "And you survived. Look at the bright side."
"The bright side." Kate repeated thoughtfully. "Well… at least Natasha was friendly."
"Exactly." Yelena said with a shrug. "If my sister’s relaxed, it means you’re doing something right."
They walked a few more steps in silence, the city noise muffled by distance, until Kate suddenly stopped. Her hands left Yelena’s shoulders only to push her gently against a brick wall, in the shadow of a corner.
Yelena let herself be guided, leaning her back against the cold surface. She raised a brow, a crooked smile playing on her lips, as Kate’s long, cold fingers slid to her cheek. The caress was slow, reverent, as if she were memorizing her by touch.
"I can’t wait to marry you." Kate murmured, her voice so low it almost blended with the wind.
Yelena didn’t answer right away. She tilted her head, never breaking eye contact, until her lips found the ring on Kate’s finger. She kissed it softly, a gesture filled with both tenderness and promise.
"We’re already married," she reminded her, her warm breath brushing Kate’s skin.
Kate nodded slowly, her fingers still on Yelena’s cheek.
"And I’m going to do everything I can to earn the right for us to be married. To do things right… or as right as they can be."
Yelena’s green eyes glowed with something that was half love, half disbelief.
"You already made me fall in love, Kate."
"I know, I know. But that's not enough," Kate replied, with a soft and mischievous, yet determined smile. "You deserve everything. Dates, flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals… things that make you blush. Things that make you remember me even when I'm not there."
Yelena tilted her head, watching her as if she wanted to engrave every word.
"I could never forget you," she said, almost like a vow. Then she laughed, reaching out her own hand to catch Kate’s. Both gold rings gleamed. "You already put a ring on me for that."
Kate smiled, and that smile was the last thing Yelena saw before the archer leaned toward her. The kiss began slowly, as if they both wanted to savor the first spark, but soon it deepened, anchored in the certainty that no matter what came, they would not let go.
The night’s chill was still there, but with the hands on her cheek and the warmth of her lips, Yelena felt she could never sense it again.
Chapter Text
The buzzing of the fluorescent light above her head had been hammering at her nerves for hours.
Yelena drummed her fingers against the desk, eyes fixed on the folder in front of her. Reports, protocols, system updates… always the same. Documents that seemed to multiply every time she managed to shrink the pile.
She sighed.
It was just another day at CySec Horizon: hallways full of clacking keyboards, muffled voices discussing servers, firewalls, and vulnerabilities. Passionate people, focused, who seemed to find strange joy in deciphering code and anticipating cyberattacks. Everyone except her.
Yelena was there, sitting behind a desk, with a title of "Director of Operations" that sounded more like a punishment than an achievement.
Of course, she had never hated helping Natasha—she adored her and would do anything for her. Besides, her sister had dreamed of this project since they were teenagers. She remembered it well, remembered Natasha’s dark circles after nights spent studying security algorithms and testing her first lines of code. Natasha had fought, worked, and built the company with her own hands. Yelena had agreed to accompany her, first as moral support, then as a partner.
She was still young back then, still studying, still needing to pay bills, and CySec Horizon had been the most practical solution. So Yelena let herself be dragged along. And when she realized it, the company was already too big to just "walk away from." Now it depended on both of them: Natasha as the brain, the pillar, and Yelena as the one who kept the pieces together, even if deep down it didn’t excite her in the slightest. It wasn’t her world, neither cybersecurity nor high society. It never had been
As she flipped through the reports, her mind wandered to faraway, warmer places.
As a child, she had dreamed of being a professional soccer goalkeeper. She could still feel the thrill of school matches, the massive goal in front of her and her sweaty gloves, the expectant silence before someone took a penalty shot. She had been good—fast, flexible. But life had pushed her elsewhere. She had been too little still.
She had also dreamed of being a veterinarian. She loved animals with the same intensity she loved people (sometimes more). She remembered reading entire books about horses and dogs, being fascinated by wildlife rescue programs. That dream had faded between moving houses, training sessions, responsibilities, and mostly puberty.
And in the end, her true love had always been cooking.
For as long as she could remember, the kitchen had been her refuge: the warmth of the stove, the aroma of spices mixing, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board. Her mother’s relaxed smile and her hands over Yelena’s while kneading bread dough, the only place Alexei wouldn’t go near with a ten-foot pole. A safe, warm place where she could stain her clothes and play with Melina. There she could create, experiment, invent flavors.
When she was old enough, she even trained as a chef. She dedicated hours and hours to perfecting techniques and even dreamed of opening her own restaurant. But there had never been time, never space.
Life pushed her toward offices, toward the gray routine of reports and meetings. It wasn’t bad, she no longer lacked money and she was good at what she did, even called a prodigy, but Yelena secretly hated it. And now she was trapped between white walls, a glowing screen, and piles of folders. Kitchens had always been more fun, more alive, more real.
She shook her head and reread the same sentence in the report for the third time without processing it.
"Ugh, what a drag," she muttered, slumping back in her chair.
The clock ticked slowly. It was one of those days when even the air felt heavy. Yelena got up and walked to her office window. The view was the same as always: buildings, cars, hurried pedestrians. The city kept on with its indifferent rhythm while she felt trapped.
A soft knock at the door broke her melancholy.
"Yes?" she asked, expecting to see Natasha enter with another pile of documents. But it wasn’t her sister. It was her assistant, who appeared with a conspiratorial smile on her lips. A smile that immediately put Yelena on alert. That expression never heralded anything ordinary. "What is it?" she asked, raising a brow.
Her assistant gave an apologetic gesture, then stepped aside.
And then Yelena saw her.
Kate Bishop. Standing at the threshold of her office, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers that contrasted with the bureaucratic gray of the place.
Yelena’s heart skipped a beat.
She stood immediately, unable to stop the blush from rising to her cheeks. She walked over, took the flowers with a clumsy sort of charm, and almost without thinking, asked her assistant to leave them alone. The door closed behind them.
In that instant, Yelena let out a nervous laugh and, still hugging the bouquet, leaned toward Kate. With a quick movement, she grabbed the tie the CEO wore perfectly knotted and used it to pull her close until their lips met.
The kiss was intense, brief but charged with electricity. When they pulled apart, Kate had lipstick smudges on her mouth and her eyes were slightly shining.
"What are you doing here, Kate?" Yelena asked, still smiling, hugging the flowers to her chest as if they were a shield.
Kate, a little dazed, murmured. "We have a date."
Yelena raised her brows. "A date? Love, I still have work to do."
Kate stepped forward, anticipating the excuse. "I already talked to Natasha."
Yelena blinked, surprised. "What?"
"You have the rest of the afternoon off."
There was no room for protest. Kate took her hand firmly, intertwining their fingers, and gently tugged her out of the office.
Yelena tried to come up with an excuse, a reason to stay, but none came out of her mouth. The only thing she could do was let herself be pulled along, flowers still in her arms, her heart racing faster than she’d ever admit.
The CySec Horizon building faded behind them. Outside, Kate’s car was waiting.
Yelena sighed, an inevitable smile spreading across her lips.
She didn’t know where they were going, or what surprise Kate had prepared. All she knew was that the gray of that dull day had shattered into pieces with a bouquet of flowers and a stolen kiss in the middle of the office.
And that, for the first time all day, she felt like she could really breathe.
Night was beginning to descend softly over the city as Kate drove toward the restaurant with a mix of nerves and determination.
She had overthought every detail of the date, from the clothes she wore to the exact spot where she would park the car. And although she wanted to appear relaxed, the truth was that every second of that drive was being measured in her head as if she were solving a complicated coding problem. This wasn’t just any outing; it wasn’t another one of Yelena’s visits to the office with lunch, nor a spontaneous trip to a greasy pizzeria. This was, officially, their first real date, no matter how much Yelena insisted it was their second.
The chosen restaurant stood on a discreet terrace, not too far from downtown but far enough to avoid unwanted eyes. Kate had liked it from the first time she discovered it: the warm lighting, the plants framing each corner, and the feeling of being in a private oasis within the city. It was intimate, elegant without being pretentious, and above all, special enough to share only with someone who really mattered.
And this time, that person was Yelena.
Kate got out of the car first and hurried around to open the passenger door. Yelena, surprised, arched a brow with that expression of hers that mixed mockery and tenderness.
"Seriously?" she asked, holding back a smile as she let herself be helped.
"Very serious," Kate replied, trying to sound casual, though her stiffness gave her away.
They climbed the stairs to the terrace, and as soon as a waiter guided them to their table, Kate once again rushed ahead to pull out the chair. Yelena let out a light laugh.
"You do know you’re acting like a gentleman from the last century, right?" she joked as she sat down.
Unbothered, Kate waited for Yelena to settle before taking her place across from her. Then she extended a hand across the table, like offering a silent pact. Though clearly, she wasn’t expecting rejection as her fingers moved slightly, waiting for the blonde’s.
Yelena looked at her for a few seconds, amused, and though she wanted to prolong the moment just to make her suffer a bit, she ended up intertwining her fingers with Kate’s. Curiously, she didn’t let go, not even when the waiter arrived with menus and began pouring a bottle of white wine.
Kate thanked him with a nod, glanced at the menu only briefly, and then closed it decisively.
"Let me surprise you." she announced, her oceanic eyes shining like a puppy desperate to please.
Yelena tilted her head, watching her with that mischievous sparkle in her green eyes that always made Kate tremble. "Go ahead, Bishop," she replied with a half-smile. "But if they bring me something ridiculous, I won’t stay quiet."
"I wasn’t expecting you to." Kate smiled with more confidence than she actually felt, though she was convinced the restaurant’s tasting menu was foolproof.
She gestured for the waiter to come closer and began whispering the order in his ear. Yelena tried not to look as amused as she felt, though it was hard, Kate always had that effect on her.
When the waiter left, they were alone again, wrapped in the soft background music and the fresh terrace breeze. Yelena, glass of wine in hand, let her gaze wander: the string lights softly illuminating the tables, the green vines climbing the walls, the discretion of that place that seemed designed for intimate conversations.
"You’ve probably been here many times already," she commented, breaking the silence. It was more a joke than anything, a way to start the conversation and tease Kate. "It’s beautiful, but also very discreet."
Instead of laughing or giving a witty response, Kate blinked in surprise before leaning forward seriously, meeting Yelena’s green eyes.
"I’ve never had a date here," she said slowly, as if making sure Yelena understood every word. "I discovered it because… well, you know I hate cooking. I’m terrible, it’s no secret. So I started going out to eat alone. Sometimes with Lucky, sometimes with friends… but many times, just me. And I liked this place so much that it became one of my favorites… I was saving it to share with someone important."
Yelena felt a strange tingling in her chest. She tried to hide it with a crooked smile, though she was starting to believe it wasn’t worth the effort. Kate always disarmed her too easily, too quickly.
"Sounds like you’re trying to impress me," she murmured, lowering her gaze to her glass.
"I don’t want to impress you," Kate replied, gently squeezing the hand she still held. "I just want you to know I’m serious. I don’t want to hold anything back anymore. Not with you, Yel."
For a moment, Yelena stayed silent. It wasn’t easy to move her, much less to peel away the vulnerability she usually hid behind jokes or sarcasm. But there she was.
God, there she was.
"You’re succeeding," she finally answered, with a hint of tenderness in her voice that she barely let slip.
The waiter came back to serve the first courses, but Kate barely noticed. She was too busy watching the way Yelena’s green eyes sparkled in the candlelight. Once they were alone again, Kate took a deep breath and, as if she had rehearsed it, began firing off questions.
“Well,” she said, settling into her seat and glancing down at her plate of cannelloni with red sauce—a choice she hoped Yelena would enjoy as much as she did. “Where were you born? What were you like as a kid? What did you study?”
Yelena arched an eyebrow, incredulous, then burst out laughing. “Kate, are you interviewing me?”
“No! These are… normal date questions.” Kate protested, though her blush betrayed her.
“Yes.” Yelena narrowed her eyes. “But you say it like you just Googled ‘what to ask on a first date.’” She replied with a mischievous smile, far more amused than she wanted to admit.
Kate opened her mouth to deny it, then shrugged. “Maybe. So what?”
Yelena shook her head, amused. “Some answers you already know.”
“Yes,” Kate admitted. “But I want to hear them from you. Come on, humor me.”
Yelena took a sip of wine, thought for a moment, then began speaking with a calmness that didn’t always belong to her.
“Alright. To start with, I’m adopted. I don’t share blood with Melina or Natasha— I always knew that.” She shrugged, gracefully picking up her utensils before cutting into her food. “We lived in Russia until I was three, then moved to Ohio for my mother’s work. She earned more than my father, so he agreed to find a new job in America. And that’s how it all began.”
She paused briefly, as if deliberately skipping over certain details, then after a bite of her cannelloni, continued. “When I was a kid, my mother insisted I had to do some sport. I hated running, so I thought being a goalkeeper on the soccer team would be the easiest option. I didn’t realize they still made us run at the start of every practice.” Yelena shook her head. “A total disappointment.”
Kate laughed, picturing her small, with that same annoyed expression she had so often seen on her adult face.
“Later I studied veterinary medicine, but I never finished. Natasha offered me a job at CySec Horizon and I ended up combining that with cooking classes. Because yes, my dream was always to be a chef. But in the end… well, life had other plans.”
Yelena raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for some judgment, but Kate only watched her with absolute attention.
“I like sriracha,” she added with a half-smile. “And boxed mac and cheese, which would be a complete disgrace to my cooking instructor. I’m a simple woman, I guess. The only thing I can’t stand is people being cruel to animals.”
Kate nodded, memorizing every word as if they were precious instructions to crack an impossible code. When Yelena finished, it was her turn to answer questions.
At first, she was timid: she spoke about being born and raised in New York, about her degree in business and cybersecurity, about archery as her passion since childhood. She told how that sport had saved her after her father’s death, and how even now she couldn’t stop moving, always chasing activities that kept her on her feet. And she confessed, almost like a shameful secret, that she hated getting sick because it forced her to stay still.
After saying it, Kate went quiet for a moment, as if realizing just how much of herself she had revealed.
“This sounds more like an interview than a date.” she muttered, lowering her gaze.
Yelena chuckled lightly. “And what exactly were you hoping to get out of this, mmh?”
Kate bit her lip, uncomfortable. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to make sure I was really getting to know you.”
Yelena tilted her head, and with her trademark playfulness, decided to give her an out. “Alright, how about we try something else. Flirt with me.”
Kate nearly choked on her wine. “What?”
“Come on, use one of your moves. Everyone has them.” Yelena replied confidently. “Here, I’ll show you an example.” She leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table, and in a soft voice said, “Tell me a joke.”
Kate blinked, blank. “A joke?”
“Yes, come on, do it.”
Nervously, Kate stammered, “Do you know what the oldest animal is?” When Yelena smiled and shook her head, she cleared her throat. “The zebra, because it’s in black and white.”
There was silence for a moment. Kate almost feared she had ruined everything, but then Yelena burst into laughter as if it were the funniest thing she had ever heard. Her laugh rang out free and contagious, somehow making Kate laugh at herself too.
When Yelena calmed down, her hand landed on Kate’s arm, slowly caressing, massaging. She looked at her intently, with a disarming smile that left the young CEO undone.
“Oh, Kate Bishop! You are so funny, that’s hilarious, that one is the funniest.”
Kate felt her face ignite in unstoppable red. The goofy smile spreading across her lips was impossible to contain, and before she knew it, she was already thinking of another joke to tell, just to keep hearing Yelena laugh and feel her hand on her arm.
But then she realized: she had completely fallen into Yelena’s trap.
“That was—! That was cheating!” she protested, utterly offended, mostly at herself for surrendering so easily to a pretty laugh and her wife’s touch.
“It works, see?” Yelena leaned back, laughing again. “Now you try.”
Kate watched her for a few seconds, searching for something clever to say, some “move,” as the blonde had called it, that could match her. But the only thing that left her lips was:
“You’re too beautiful for me to waste time on a silly pickup line.”
Yelena, against all odds, blushed. She averted her gaze for an instant, biting her lower lip.
“That’s enough.” she whispered softly.
Kate blinked, disbelieving she had managed to make her nervous.
Dinner carried on in a far more relaxed mood after that.
The dishes came one after another: delicate seafood starters, fresh handmade pasta, desserts that looked like small works of art. But beyond the food, what truly mattered was the conversation, flowing naturally, bouncing between jokes and absurd anecdotes, more serious confessions and silences heavy with long gazes.
Kate discovered new sides of Yelena: the tenderness with which she spoke of animals, so at odds with her tough exterior; the passion that still lit her eyes when she mentioned cooking; the amused exasperation with which she recalled soccer training. And Yelena, in turn, peeled back Kate’s layers of insecurity one by one, making her laugh, surprised at how genuine she could be when she set aside her masks. Not that Yelena didn’t already know this, but there was something different in seeing her like this—outside their apartment, in a space that forced them to show who they truly were.
By the time dessert arrived, Kate had completely forgotten this was supposed to be their “first official date.” Yelena rested her chin in her hand, watching her intently as Kate recounted a work story and cut into her chocolate dessert (and God, Yelena thought, Kate ate far too many sweets for someone so athletic). That was when Kate realized Yelena wasn’t really listening.
Smiling slightly, she tilted her head. “What is it?”
Yelena didn’t even hesitate. “I like the Bishop package.”
Kate let out a snort, shoving a bite into her mouth that left a smear at the corner. Yelena moved on instinct, reaching out to wipe away the chocolate with her fingers. But the incredible part wasn’t the gesture itself, it was how Kate froze, leaning ever so slightly into the touch, longing. Then, when Yelena pulled her hand away, Kate sighed shakily, lowering her spoon.
“Do you want to go home?” she asked softly, noticing the blonde had already finished her slice of lemon pie.
Home. A simple word, but never just a place. For so long, for Yelena, home had meant her mother and sister. Later, her friends. She never believed she’d find a partner. Not someone like Kate. Not someone she could love this much, in so many different ways.
Yelena was older than Kate. Five years, which sometimes felt like nothing and other times like a vast divide. She had loved before, many times. Women very different from the one sitting in front of her, women she had loved deeply, enough to imagine rings and a house with a white picket fence.
But it was never like this. Never this easy, never this natural. Never this deep, like a blade between the ribs.
Without much thought, she leaned across the table and kissed her. Mostly because she could, now she could, at least. But also because she had waited too long. Until only a few weeks ago, Yelena still believed she and Kate would remain in that strange limbo, caring, loving, but never crossing the invisible line they had drawn themselves.
Kate hadn’t yet told her what exactly pushed her that day, what had led her into her arms to confess it all. Yelena wasn’t in a hurry. Now that Kate was hers, she only wanted to take things slowly, savoring every step. She didn’t mind waiting.
When they pulled apart, as always, Kate chased her slightly, mouth parted, eyes closed. Yelena watched her for a moment, stroking her cheek until those blue eyes found hers.
“Let’s go home, love.”
Kate nodded without hesitation. “Let me pay the check.”
Kate let out a small sigh when Yelena gently pushed her onto the couch, letting her back sink into the cushions as the other woman settled on her lap, laughing. Kate’s hands trembled slightly, even more when Yelena took them and guided them to her waist.
Yelena’s skin was warm even with the layers of clothes still between them. Kate’s fingers traced aimless patterns, distracted, while she tried to hold back a moan at the feel of Yelena’s lips on her neck. The blonde toyed with her tie, slowly undoing it before unbuttoning the first button of her shirt, as if searching for just a little more skin.
There was something about Yelena’s lips, soft and dangerous at once, that made Kate far more sensitive than usual. Every shiver of hers drew a low laugh from the blonde, who reveled in every reaction, in every slight tug at her clothes when her tongue brushed against skin. Kate sighed shakily, caught between need and sweetness, knowing she was enjoying this far too much. But could anyone really blame her? Yelena was utterly addictive.
Suddenly, Yelena pulled back a little, her fingers seeking Kate’s belt. She had no plans of going further; she was sincere when she said she wanted to take things slow. All she wanted was to free her from the shirt, let her breathe a little more.
Apparently, it was too much, because Kate’s calloused hands immediately caught her wrists, gently, but firmly. Yelena looked up and found Kate’s eyes slightly open, her cheeks completely red.
“Detka…” Yelena murmured softly.
“I’m sorry, it’s just… not yet.” Kate swallowed hard. “It’s our first-second date. You deserve better. I do, too.”
Yelena’s face softened at once. She leaned in to kiss her cheek.
“I only wanted to make you comfortable, to feel your skin. We won’t do anything tonight, I promise, my love.” She whispered against her cheek, affectionately brushing her nose against hers. Only then did Kate’s body relax, releasing Yelena’s hands.
“Oh… good. That’s good.”
Yelena chuckled softly, her fingers returning to play with the belt. “Is this alright?”
“Yes… yeah, it’s fine.”
Kate’s consent was enough. Gently, she loosened the belt, but didn’t remove it or tug at her pants. She simply lifted the shirt a little, freeing the fabric to reveal the start of her stomach. She didn’t do much more: she rested her hand there, feeling the warmth beneath her skin. Then, she leaned down to kiss her collarbone, right where the first button had given way. Kate sighed, sinking deeper into the couch with every caress.
“I like your hands.” Kate blurted suddenly, as if the thought had slipped out unfiltered, something she probably shouldn’t have said out loud. But honestly, she didn’t care.
Yelena laughed, unable to contain it, and ended up collapsing against her, burying her face in her wife’s shoulder. Kate’s arms quickly wrapped around her with security, enveloping her.
They didn’t do anything else that night. Both fell asleep on the couch, Yelena’s hand tucked beneath Kate’s shirt, caressing her side, and Kate’s fingers tangled in blonde hair.
Neither of them would have traded it for anything.