âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â
So back in Chapter 3 of @the0fiâs lovely Kate Bishop/Yelena Belova fic Red Post-Its (which I read because 1) theyâre a fantastic writer and 2) they said you could see a bit of Hosie in there, and, yeah, as promised đ) thereâs a scene involving Kate, Kamala, and Yelena, where Kate hopes certain events donât end up in one of Kamalaâs fanfics. And, well, we never got to see if they did (which I suppose means they didnât), but my mind wouldnât let go (never mind Iâve only seen one of these characters!). So a few days ago it gave birth to a tiny little fanfic for another fanfic involving writing fanfic! Fics all the way down! Ficception!
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âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â
âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â
âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â
âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â
Kamala Khan played those words over and over on her own journey home. She and Kate had planted a trap for a bunch of thugs in a warehouse, and things didnât go quite according to plan. Nothing they couldnât handle, really, but a Mysterious Stranger suddenly appeared and provided an unexpected assistâŚbeat the crap out of all of the thugs near Kate. (Well, all but one, whoâd managed to knock Kate to the ground.) And then the stranger helped Kate up and uttered those four words before disappearing into the night. âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â
The voice was steady, belying any emotion, but there was something about itâŚthe tone? the cadence?âŚthat made Kamala sure there was more to it. It was accented, SlavicâŚprobably Russian, maybe from Brighton Beach? And definitely female.
Kate had never mentioned a partner. Or a trained friend, for that matterâŚbesides Clint. And this Mysterious StrangerâŚMysterious FriendâŚwas definitely too professional to be one of the LARPers. Was she a spy? The newest Marvelâs mind continued to spin, considering the possibilitiesâŚthis was even better than her fanfiction!
There was definitely an undercurrent of not just concern, but tenderness, in the womanâs voice, Kamala was sure of it. Maybe it was a gut feeling? But she knew she wasnât imagining it, playing those sounds over in her head again.
When sheâd asked Kate, âWho was that?!â the CEO-by-day, Hawkeye-by-night had answered âA friend,â but the smile that took over her face told a different story.
Was Mysterious Friend KateâsâŚgirlfriend?
Kateâs girlfriend, an international agent, a foreign spy?
That would be one reason for Kate never to mention the woman to Kamala. Not that she thought Kate was doing anything wrong; she was sure the new Hawkeye had thoroughly vetted Mysterious Friend. And not that Kate was in any way obligated to reveal her private personal life, either; they were teammates, not sisters.
The Pakistani-American teenâs imagination began to run wild. Maybe the two met when Mysterious Friend dropped in to help Kate in a fight in a warehouse, not unlike tonight. Ever since then, theyâd been passing each other in the city in the way that only spies do. Secret rendezvous in coffee shops, where they stole longing glances at each other across the room, leaving love letters taped to the undersides of their respective tables. Passing each other on the subway, pressed against the windows, cars going in opposite directions. Perhaps one time they both found themselves in a crowded elevator, slowly moving towards each other as the occupants got in and out on various floors; eventually, they were pushed together, shoulder-to-shoulder, in the back, the tips of their fingers touching. And watching over Kate, silently, in the shadows, as she patrolled, perhaps taking out unseen threats to her girlfriend with a thrown knife, never making her presence known. Except Kate would know. She would feel Mysterious Friendâs love radiating through the city, helping to keep her safe.
When she arrived home, Kamala rushed to her room and opened her laptop, starting a new fic. This was too good not to write. She began to type.
âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â Hawkeye had just taken out a nest of petty crooks when a knife-throwing mysterious stranger had emerged from the darkness. The only prior indication of the strangerâs presence had come moments before, when the glint of steel in the moonlight caught a knife in mid-air, a knife that had then embedded itself in the right gastrocnemius of one final crook. He was either trying to escape or to get the jump on the dark-haired heroine, whose back was to the man. Whichever was the case, it didnât matter to the stranger. Kate Bishop whirled around upon hearing the crook scream in agony and then crumple to the ground. She had an arrow nocked, drawn, and aimed in the direction from which the knife had come, even though she had neither seen nor heard it. When Hawkeye caught sight of the stealth suit emerging from the darkness, she lowered her weaponâand an enormous smile spread across her face. âThanks,â she greeted the mystery figure softly, the smile being joined by a blush spreading across her cheeks. If the Mysterious Stranger had acknowledged the gratitude, it was imperceptible. The figure then spoke a single line of heavily-accented English, âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â Sheâfor there was no doubt the voice was feminineâthen melted back into the shadows whence she had come, leaving Kate Bishop alone with the neutralized crooks. Kate Bishop whose face was hot, red, and giddy. Kate Bishop whose heart was beating rapidly, but not from adrenaline nor from danger. Kate Bishop, whose fingers traced her lips as she remembered the feeling of another set of lips pressed against them. Kate Bishop who, in that moment, was no longer a deadly archer, but instead a besotted schoolgirl. âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â The words echoed in her head as she restrained the incapacitated crooks for the authorities. âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â They followed along with her as she moved through the city. âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â They were not a request nor an order. âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â They were a promise. âHome safe, Kate Bishop.â
FIN
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No idea what Kamalaâs fics might be like, or what her internal monologue might sound like, or, well, anything đł But this idea was too good not to write, and that line, those four words, wouldnât leave my head, so here we are. Enjoy, I hope?
(Now also on AO3.)













