#kymau

Russell shuffles in, bleary and already annoyed at something.

Yelena kneels slowly to greet him. “Morning, baby.”

“Hi, Mama!”

The almost-three-year-old carbon copy of her launches into her arms. She winces, but doesn’t let it show.

“Chocolate chips or blueberries?”

“Nana.”

“That’s new.” She stands. “I don’t think we have any bananas, but I’ll check.”

Yelena heads to the pantry. Another contraction stops her short. Folds her right there, just for a second. That’s how Kate finds her: crouched, breath held, knife still in hand. Kate’s in a hoodie, long and toned bare legs showing, sleep still in her eyes. The brunette pauses, immediately clocking something’s off.

“You good?”

Yelena lifts her head. Nods. “Fine. Just a little tight.”

Kate doesn’t press. Has no reason to.

“Did you sleep?” she asks.

“Not really.”

Kate kisses her temple as she wraps her arms around Yelena. Her lips linger. Yelena melts into Kate's arms. Softens for a beat.

“Want me to take Russ to the park after karate? Buy you a few solid hours of quiet?”

Yelena shrugs, slips out from the hug. Goes back to working on breakfast. She sets syrup on the table and fishes chocolate chips from the shelf. “We’ll see.”

She doesn’t mention the contractions. She hasn’t timed them. Doesn’t need to. She knows she's in labor.

But they’re manageable. Far apart. Nothing worth sounding an alarm over. She pours herself a glass of orange juice and sips it slow between the waves. Her fingers keep drifting back to the counter. Grounding.

“Ri up?”

Yelena shakes her head.

“Ereka!” Kate shouts. “Boone warned you she’d cancel the lesson if you’re late again!”

No response.

“Okay, cool, I’ll go yell in person.” She scoops up the toddler and kisses Yelena again, softer now. “I'll handle them. You just…stay hot and super pregnant. You’re killing that.”

Yelena smirks. Keeps whisking. Kate disappears down the hallway.

“RI! You better be up!”

—

Yelena’s water breaks while she’s slicing a bagel.

No fanfare. No drama. Just a sudden, undeniable warmth down one leg. Knife in one hand. Half-sliced sesame in the other.

“Kate.”

Kate doesn’t look up from where she’s wrangling a missing shoe onto a toddler who’s decided footwear is a crime.

“Hmmm?”

Yelena clears her throat. “I think he’s skipping karate.”

Kate glances over, confused. Immediately spots the puddle slowly forming under Yelena. Sees Yelena’s too-calm expression. Instantly combusts.

“Oh my god. Are you…? Is that…? Are we…? It’s happening?”

Yelena sets the knife down, walks to the sink. “Unless I’ve lost all bladder function, yes. It’s happening.”

A tiny shoe clatters to the floor.

“I’ve been having contractions since around four.”

Kate stares, blinking fast. “That was five hours ago!”

“And?”

“And you…made pancakes?”

“I was hungry. He was hungry.”

Kate’s already spiraling. She grabs her phone, her keys, someone else’s jacket. “Okay. Okay. I’ll get the bag. I’ll get the car. Do you need anything? Do you need to sit?”

“I’m fine.” Yelena declares, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“You’re leaking.”

“Yes. That’s part of the process.”

Another contraction. Yelena closes her eyes. Breathes deep.

“You’re trembling.”

“I do that when I focus.”

It passes. Kate watches like she’s just realized her wife might actually be made of Kevlar.

“We need to go.”

“Not yet.”

“You’re in labor.”

“It’s manageable.”

“It’s not manageable! You were curled on the kitchen floor ten minutes ago.”

“And now I’m not.”

Kate’s hands are shuddering. She doesn’t notice until her phone nearly slips. “Okay. Doctor. Bags. Russ…” Kate looks down at her soon. “You want to go to Suzu’s?”

“No. Rate. HI-YA!” Russell argues, firm.

“Yeah, karate’s canceled.” She shouts toward the hallway. “EREKA!”

“OH MY GOD I’M UP!” the tween screams from deep in the house.

“Pack a bag! No piano today! You and Russ are going to Suzu’s!”

“What?! NO!” Ereka shouts back.

Yelena touches Kate’s wrist. Firm. Anchored.

“Babe.” Kate turns. Already two heartbeats from full meltdown. “Stop.”

Kate nods, too fast. “Right. Sorry.”

“I’m okay.” Yelena declares. Calm, direct.

Kate swallows. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Kate bolts. Talking to herself. Running a headcount of her to-do list. Yelena sighs and finishes slicing the bagel.

“Go ask your sister if she wants salmon on hers.”

The boy nods and runs off, obedient and unfazed. “SISSY! Mama ask…”

Yelena tunes him out. Grabs a towel. Starts cleans the puddle of amniotic fluid like it’s spilled water.

—

Forty seven minutes later, they’ve dropped the kids off. By the time they reach the hospital, Yelena’s had four more contractions. She doesn’t mention them. Just breathes slow in the passenger seat, like she’s enduring traffic, not labor. Kate keeps glancing over like she’s bracing for detonation. Yelena keeps rolling her eyes.

Kate misses two turns. Almost drives up the ambulance ramp.

During intake, the nurse checks Yelena. Smiles.

“You’re already at six.”

Kate’s jaw hits the floor.

Yelena simply nods. “Cool.”

Kate collapses into the chair. “I told you this wasn’t fine.”

Yelena winces through a contraction. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. Six is go-time.”

“Seven is go-time. Six is warm-up.”

“You should be screaming. Or sweating. Or…something.” Kate rubs her face. "I had an epidural at three with Ri. You literally held my hand while cried for twenty minutes when I hit four with Russ. And you? Nothing…”

“I have a high threshold.”

The nurse laughs softly. “Do you have a birth plan?”

“Yes.” Yelena doesn’t offer more.

“Can you walk me through it?” The nurse tries to pry for additional info.

“Don’t touch me unless absolutely necessary. Don’t talk to me unless I talk first. No students. No crowd. No small talk. Just get the baby out and don’t be weird about it.”

Kate looks mildly horrified. The nurse just grins and types the notes into Yelena’s chart.

“Low interference. Got it.”

—

Another hour ticks by.

Yelena is barefoot, pacing the room like she’s warming up for a title match. Shoulders rolled. Eyes locked ahead. Kate keeps trying to make her sit. Yelena won’t. She offers water. Yelena refuses.

Sweat clings to her neck. She moves to the bed, grips the rails. Her body quivers but her face doesn’t give. She huffs, breath ragged, like a boxer between rounds. The pain is resonant and constant, but she doesn’t let it register.

Her jaw is locked tight. Teeth grinding so hard Kate hears them from across the room. She crouches beside her.

“Can I…?”

“No.”

“Even just…?”

“No.”

Kate nods. Falls into step beside her. She brings her water. Drinks it herself. Unplugs the charger three separate times while trying to plug it in. Her heart’s beating faster than Yelena’s.

“You wanna try the ball?”

“I want to kill something and sit on its corpse.”

“So…yes.” Kate translates to herself.

Kate helps Yelena lower onto the giant birth ball. One hand on Yelena’s elbow, steadying. The tension in her body is relentless.

“You’re doing great,” Kate whispers.

Yelena says nothing. But she doesn’t shove her hand off, either. That’s a win. She looks up, studies Kate’s face.

“You’re sweating more than I am,” she jokes weakly. Kate doesn’t laugh. “You okay?”

Kate shakes her head. “Not even close.”

“You’re pale. Drink.” Kate glances at her hands. They’re shaking again. She hadn’t noticed. “You need to sit,” Yelena says.

“I need to be here.” Kate wipes her forehead. “God. I don’t know why I’m freaking out this bad.”

“You’ve done this. Twice.”

“Exactly. But you’re supposed to be the strong one. I’m the one who gets stabbed with a needle, pumped full of drugs, and naps.”

Yelena lets out something between a snort and a laugh. Then tenses as another contraction hits.

—

By the eighth hour in the hospital, they’ve found a rhythm. The epidural helped. Yelena finally lets go of some of the tension. She’s still controlled, still sharp, but the pain has receded from her eyes.

Kate is upright again. Hydrated. Ashamed. Hovering.

“Need anything?”

“No.”

“Water?”

“No.”

“Massage? Back rub? Hip squeeze?”

“Why are you whispering?” Yelena asks, mildly irritated.

Kate grimaces. “Feels like I’m interrupting.”

Yelena frowns. “There’s a human trying to bust out of me like the Kool-Aid Man. You’re not the thing really annoying me…for a change.”

Kate exhales. Slides closer. Reaches for her hand.

Yelena lets her take it. For a beat. Then calmly sets it back down on Kate’s own thigh.

“I love you. But if you rub me the wrong way, I’ll snap.”

Kate smiles. “Got it.”

—

The dilation moves fast for a first timer. Twelve hours in, she’s already at eight centimeters. Still no shrieking. No groaning. Just that tight grip on the bed rail. Steady breath. Determined silence. Unnervingly composed, like she’ll get a prize if she’s the chillest mother on this L&D floor.

Kate is ghost-pale. She hasn’t sat in hours. Just paces and reorganizes. The bag. The blankets. The swaddle Yelena explicitly told her not to pack.

Then something shifts.

Yelena leans forward mid-contraction, curls around the bed handles like she’s anchoring herself to the earth.

“Something wrong?” Kate panics. “Do I need to get someone?”

Yelena shakes her head. “Just pressure. A lot of it.”

—

An hour later, the nurse checks again.

“Nine and a half. We’re nearly there.”

Kate backs up like she’s been shoved. Her stomach turns. Her fingers go numb.

“You alright?” the nurse asks.

Kate nods too quickly. “Yup. It’s…a lot.”

—

They prep the room. The OB arrives. Yelena’s legs go onto stirups and she settles in like they’re the last stable thing in her world.

Then it begins.

The energy shifts. Nurses file in. The OB gloves up. The lights sharpen. Metal trays of horrifying medieval instruments appear.

Yelena rolls her neck. Stretches her spine. Looks like she’s about to step into a ring.

The first pushes go fine. Then less fine. Then brutal. Still no yelling. No tears. Just deep, guttural sounds from a place beneath language.

Kate stands frozen. Watching the grunts. Breathwork. The scraping sound of raw effort.

A nurse nudges Kate. She stumbles into action. Tries to count. Loses her place. Tries again. Her voice cracks.

Someone tells her to help with a leg. She takes position. One hand under Yelena’s thigh. The other gripping her fingers. Her skin is slick with sweat. Her knuckles shake. Yelena is breathing heavy now. Her face still blank, but her grip vise-tight.

Kate has no idea what she expected from this part. She knows what it looks like. She thought standing beside it instead of in it would be easier. It’s not.

The room collapses inward. Sound drops into static. The OB is speaking, but Kate hears nothing.

Yelena pushes like she’s moving a planet. Her vocalizations stay low, rough, restrained. Kate starts crying. Quiet, stunned tears. No sobs. Just fluid leaking from her face.

“One more, Yelena. You’re close.” The doctor’s voice cuts through.

Yelena grits her teeth. Bears down. The crown starts to show.

Kate looks. Immediately regrets it. Recoils.

“Oh god.”

The OB is speaking but it sounds like gibberish. Kate’s ears ring. Her chest tightens. Vision tunnels.

“You okay?” a nurse asks.

Kate steps back. “I…I just…one second…”

She grabs the wall.

“Kate?” Yelena asks through clenched teeth.

Kate snaps upright, caught. “Me? I’m great. You?”

“I’m having a baby,” Yelena growls. “You’re sweating.”

“I’m just…supportive.”

“You’re panicking.”

“No.”

“You’re white.”

Kate opens her mouth. Freezes.

Yelena looks at her. Looks at the nurse. The nurse sees it, too. Knows what’s coming. Has seen it a hundred times before and starts anticipating it.

“Kate.” Kate sways. “Kate.” Her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Kate!”

It doesn’t feel like fainting. There’s no warning. Just a roar behind her eyes, and then nothing.

Yelena can’t move, but she yells. A second nurse sprints in, catches Kate just before she hits the floor.

They lay her out on the couch. She wakes seconds later, blinking up at the ceiling lights. A hand fans her. Another pats her cheek. Kate stares at Yelena across the room, confused and winded. Someone gives her a juice box like she’s five.

Yelena’s still mid-push. She turns to her…sweat-soaked, flushed, and furious.

“You fainted?!”

Kate shakes her head. “No I didn’t.”

“You dropped like you got sniped. Dramatic as hell.”

“I was…lightheaded.”

“You napped while I’m here ejecting the baby YOU talked me into.”

Yelena catches her breath. Kate groans.

“It’s hot. The lights. I hadn’t eaten…”

“You had dinner.” Yelena grits out.

“Okay, maybe I panicked a little.”

Yelena grins. First one in hours. Then her face twists.

“Kate,” she groans through another wave. She doesn’t have to say the rest. The ‘I kind of need you’ is implied.

Kate stands. Wobbles. Rushes back to the bed.

“I’m here. I’m good. I just…” She can’t help but look again. Sees the head. “Oooooh my god…that’s so big! Are they always this big?!”

“Not helping.”

Kate breathes like she’s the one in labor.

“Do you need to lie down?” a nurse asks.

Kate doesn’t answer.

Yelena grabs her wrist. “If you drop again while I’m crowning…”

“I’m standing,” Kate insists. It’s sort of believable.

The baby comes fast. One final push. Then screams. Wet and piercing and vexed, fills the room.

A girl. Dark-haired. Blue-eyed. Wrinkled. Loud.

Yelena collapses back. Kate starts crying again, relief taking over. The baby lands on Yelena’s chest. She looks down at the tiny, squirming, red thing and goes completely still.

Kate cuts the cord with shaking hands and tear-blurred vision. Yelena stares down at their daughter like she’s never seen anything more terrifying or precious.

Kate hovers, stone still, still too dizzy to move.

“You okay?” is all she can muster.

Yelena nods, dazed. Kate leans in, brushes her hair back, kisses her forehead.

“You did it.” Yelena doesn’t move. Just nods again. “You were incredible.”

Yelena turns to her.

“How would you know? You missed half of it.” Yelena manages to get out with a light chuckle.

Kate groans. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

—

Later, once the chaos fades and the baby is bundled and sleeping in the plastic bassinet, Kate climbs into the hospital bed beside Yelena. She curls into her, rests a hand over Yelena’s belly, now soft and empty.

“Is this okay or do you prefer the floor?” Yelena smirks.

“You’re not allowed to tease me about fainting forever.”

“No promises.”

“I panicked because I love you so much!”

“You panicked because you saw my cervix dilate.”

“That too.”

Yelena laughs quietly. Then kisses her. Reassurance that she’s not serious.

Kate exhales, long and low. “I’ve never felt more useless in my life. You just…had it.”

Yelena threads their fingers together. Her thumb traces slow circles into Kate’s skin.

“You were here. That’s all I really needed.”

Kate closes her eyes. Nestles in deeper.

“I don’t ever want to do this again.”

“You can’t say that. Next time it’s your turn again.” Yelena’s lips curve up.

“We’re not doing this again.”

“We said that after Russ too.”

Kate looks up at her, deadpan. “I mean it this time.”

Yelena leans in and kisses her softly.

“Sure you do.”

They lie there like that, skin to skin to skin. The air still carries the weight of what just happened. Yelena presses her lips to Kate’s neck, just beneath her jaw.

“I love you, Kate Bishop.”

Kate smiles.

“Even when I pass out in the middle of monumental life moments?”

Yelena grins against her throat.

“Why?”

“Because. I drew you with eyebrows this time.”

Yelena sighs, drags a hand down her face.

“Go home, kid.”

“Do you wanna watch a movie?”

“No.”

“Okay. What if there was pasta and cheese involved?”

“Pasta and cheese…with fish?”

“She’s making it. Not me. And there’s bread. With the cheese from the little tub. Mommy says it’s for ‘when she’s trying but not trying.’ That’s tonight. She’s tired. You should come.”

“I’m not invited.”

“You’re always invited.”

“Still no.”

Ereka frowns. Stares at her. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move.

“You don’t like cheese?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I was in the middle of something.”

Ereka pushes past Yelena and steps into the apartment before Yelena can stop her, scanning the room like she owns it.

“You can’t just walk into people’s apartments without being invited.”

“I knocked. You opened. That’s an invitation.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Yelena grumbles.

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me what’s better than pasta and a movie.”

“Kid, I’m not coming over just because you want me to.”

“I’m not the only one who wants you to. Mommy does. She just doesn’t want to say it.”

Yelena snorts.

“Doubtful.”

“She hasn’t taken off her make-up off yet. She always does when she gets home. That means she was hoping someone would show up.”

Yelena chuckles, despite herself. “You’re making that up.”

“Nope. She also put on perfume. The one she uses when we go to grown-up restaurants.”

“She could be going somewhere.”

“She’s wearing sweatpants.”

“You’re…alarmingly perceptive. How old are you again?”

“Five and a quarter. Mommy says I’m precocious.”

“You should go home.”

“You cleaned.”

“I live here.”

“You didn’t last time. You had piles.”

“I was reorganizing.”

“You were brooding.”

“Big word for a five-year-old.”

“I read.”

“I know.”

Ereka perches on the armrest.

“So…are you coming or not?”

“I told you no.”

“You can still change your mind.”

“GO HOME, EREKA.”

“Fine. But you have to walk me back.” Yelena doesn’t move. “You don’t have to stay. You can just come over to return me. And then…if you wanted to sit for a minute, no one would stop you.”

“You came over alone. You can go back alone.”

“If something happens to me, it’s your fault.”

Ereka turns around. Heads for the door. Yelena narrows her eyes.

“Are you always this manipulative?”

“Only when I want something.”

Yelena groans and rolls her eyes while shaking her head.

“Let me get my keys.”

//

The first sign Ereka’s slipped out is the silence.

Kate drains the pasta, slams the strainer into the sink, and turns, scanning the room.

“Ereka. Back in here. Now.”

Silence. Kate frowns. Wipes her hands on the dish towel. Leans out of the kitchen.

“Ereka?”

Still nothing.

The wooden spoon clatters onto the counter. She strides down the hall, irritation rising with every step. The bedroom door…open. Bathroom…empty. Living room…abandoned. The coloring pages Kate left her with lie abandoned on the living room rug, the pink marker uncapped and bleeding into the fibers.

Kate’s stomach drops when she sees the front door. It’s ajar. Cool air hissing out into the hallway.

“Goddammit, Ri.”

Kate rushes to it. Yanks it open, ready to shout, but freezes when she sees Yelena walking up stiffly with a very smug, barefoot child in tow.

“Returning your fugitive. She’s fast.” Yelena tells her flatly.

“Welcome to my life.” Kate glares down at her daughter. “I will install a bolt you can’t reach. Don’t test me.” Kate looks at Yelena. “Thank you. You didn’t need to walk her.”

“Nothing to thank me for. She insisted. Practically guilted me into dropping her off. Apparently a lot of terrible things could happen in the ten steps between our doors.”

“Still. Thank you.”

Yelena releases Ereka like she’s handing over stolen property.

“I drew the three of us.” Ereka tells her mother, extending the drawing.

Kate takes it. Unfurls it. She glances at the crude scribble. Three figures holding hands, an enormous red blob of wine, and what might be popcorn or possibly clouds.

“It’s us. Having movie night.”

Kate doesn’t respond right away.

“You want food?” Kate finally asks, quiet.

“No.”

Kate tilts her head. “Not even pretending to be polite and thinking about it?”

“Politeness is low on my list of priorities.”

“I told her there was cheese. She still said no.” Ereka chimes in.

“Cacio e pepe. Real pepper. Halibut on the side. Not ‘White Girl Bland.’ Promise.” Kate tries again.

“Still no.”

Kate frowns. “Okay.”

A beat.

“You want wine?” Kate presses.

“No.”

“Cool. Monosyllabic stage again.”

“Apparently.” Yelena’s mouth twitches. “There. That was more than one syllable.”

Ereka wedges herself between them.

“You can come in for just a minute. Mommy made a salad too, which nobody likes, so it’ll disappear faster if you help me eat it.”

Yelena tries not to smile. Fails. Kate catches it.

“She’s gonna keep trying until I cave, isn’t she?”

“You could just stay. Pretend this isn’t weird.” Kate adds, softer. Yelena doesn’t answer. Kate relents. “I can handle her.” She looks down at her daughter. “Go inside. You and I are having a talk later.”

“If you don’t come in I’m going to be in trouble,” Ereka stage-whispers to Yelena.

“Ereka!” Kate warns, dragging her inside. Then, to Yelena: “You don’t have to come in. She’s in trouble either way.”

Yelena hovers at the threshold. Hesitates.

“I’ll stay ten minutes.”

Kate steps aside, trying…and failing…not to smile.

//

The apartment smells like olive oil and garlic and something citrusy. Yelena follows cautiously, like she’s entering enemy territory.

Dinner is barely ready by the time they sit down. Ereka pats the middle stool aggresively then sits on one end of the row of three. Yelena eyes her options. Either way, she’s sitting next to Kate.

Kate slides her a plate. The pasta glistens. The salad is aggressively overdressed. She’s already pouring a second glass of wine.

“Sit. Eat. Or don’t. I’m not begging.” Yelena lowers herself onto the middle stool. Prods the pasta with her fork. “I even did the cheese right. Grated, not sliced.”

“Impressive.”

“That as nice as you get?” Kate arches an eyebrow.

“Unclear.”

Ereka starts demolishing her pasta like a tiny animal who hasn’t been fed in days.

“I’m gonna be Paddington for Halloween. The second one. Not the first one. What’s your favorite movie?”

“I don’t know. Don’t really have one.”

“How can you not have a favorite movie?”

“Just don’t.”

“Well, we gotta find you a favorite movie. You can pick what we watch next time.”

“I don’t think there is going to be a next time, kid.”

“There will. Mommy was talking about you earlier, by the way,” Ereka blurts out, casually. Kate glares at her.

“Yeah?” Yelena glances up at Kate with a smirk.

A pause.

“I was not.”

“I’m going to believe the kid on this one.”

Yelena smirks and chuckles. Kate shrugs.

“You’re funny when you’re not angry.” Kate mumbles.

“I’m funny while I’m angry.” Another silence. Then Yelena speaks…low, like she’s testing the room. “I don’t mean to be rude.”

“I know,” Kate replies, not looking up.

“I’m not…used to…” Yelena deflects. “…kids.”

Kate hums. Not prodding.

“You don’t have to stay forever. Just until the movie’s over,” Ereka interjects.

“I never agreed to a movie.” Yelena raises a brow.

“Saturday is movie night…Today is Saturday.”

“It’s not a law,” Kate says.

“It’s our rule.”

“You don’t have to stay.” Kate tells Yelena.

“…What movie?”

“The Parent Trap!” Ereka announces.

“No idea what that is.”

“There’s twins and a British butler and a mean step mom.”

“Solid film. You might relate to the mean one.” Kate nods with a grin before taking another sip.

“You should watch it with us.”

Yelena eyes Kate, who shrugs.

“Your call.” Kate does her best to play it off.

Yelena chews slowly, then nods.

“Ten minutes.”

“You can’t watch ten minutes of a movie,” Ereka scoffs. “That makes no sense.” Ereka adds with a chuckle and a full mouth.

“Ereka, honestly….manners.” Kate says through gritted teeth.

“Her manners seem fine to me.” Yelena playfully adds with her mouth full too.

Ereka cackles. Kate shakes her head.

“Don’t be a bad influence.”

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

For some reason, that makes Kate blush and her stomach coil. She tries to hide it by standing and turning to the fridge.

“Anything to drink?”

//

Dinner is loud. Ereka narrates her entire meal like she’s on a cooking show. Yelena eats slowly, methodically. Forking one bow tie at a time as if the plate might detonate if she rushes. Kate drinks her wine. Quiet, sharp-eyed. Half in the room, half not.

Ereka’s drawing is now pinned to the fridge…already wrinkled, already cherished. Both Kate and Yelena’s eyes keep drifting to it. Trying to decipher how they feel about the image staring back at them.

When they move to the couch, it’s with the choreography of people trying not to acknowledge what this is. Kate settles on one end, wine in hand. Ereka flops between them, already holding a juice box. Yelena perches on the opposite end like someone expecting to be asked to leave at any second.

There are stuffed animals everywhere. It’s a plush minefield. Ereka kicks most aside to make space, then climbs directly into Yelena’s lap like she belongs there.

Yelena stiffens. Looks at Kate, wide-eyed.

“Is this…okay?”

Kate doesn’t even glance over.

“She kind of does what she wants.”

“I gathered.”

Paddington, not Parent Trap, wins out because Ereka is horrified Yelena hasn’t seen it. They make it twenty minutes in before Ereka starts to drift, half-sprawled across Yelena’s body like a cat who’s claimed a new surface. Kate reaches to move her, but Yelena gently shakes her head.

“She’s fine.”

Kate pauses. Takes the two blondes in.

“You sure?”

Yelena looks down at the little tangle of limbs.

“She’s warm. It’s…nice.”

Kate watches the way Yelena’s hand rests gently on the girl’s back. Her posture softens.

“She really likes you.”

“She doesn’t know me.”

“She doesn’t care. She decides what she wants and then acts like it’s always been true.”

“Dangerous skill.”

“Terrifying,” Kate agrees softly.

They fall into silence again, but this one is not entirely uncomfortable. Yelena’s eyes are glued on the screen.

Paddington has just escaped prison with a team of reformed convicts in pastel jumpsuits.

“This is absurd,” Yelena grumbles.

“And yet you haven’t moved in twenty minutes.”

“It’s the bear’s tiny hat. It hypnotizes you.”

“You love it.”

“I don’t hate it.”

“Same thing.”

Silence.

“Thank you,” Yelena murmurs.

“For what?”

“Feeding me.”

Kate shrugs.

“Didn’t do it for you.”

“Right.” Beat. “I’m still saying thank you.”

Kate nods, quiet. She follows Yelena’s gaze down to Ereka. Her tiny foot has ended up kicked across Kate’s thigh. There’s a smear of cheese on her cheek.

“She’s not like other kids,” Yelena studies the little blonde’s features.

Kate nods.

“She doesn’t let people stay strangers for long.”

“She’s going to get her heart broken a lot.”

“She already has.”

Yelena doesn’t answer that. She doesn’t have to. Kate tilts her wine glass. Drinks.

“You better start thinking about your movie pick for next week. She’s not forgetting.”

“She’s persistent. I’ll give her that.” Kate chuckles. Yelena thinks. “Is John Wick a kid’s movie?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“What?! There’s a dog. It has a moral center.”

“You are not showing John Wick to my five-year-old.”

“Fine. Paddington 3.”

“You didn’t even know Paddington 2 existed an hour ago.”

“I learn fast.”

Kate looks at her. Really looks at her. And for once, Yelena doesn’t look away. A long silence.

“Where’s her dad?”

Kate doesn’t flinch.

“Where he needs to be.”

“And where’s that?”

Kate meets Yelena’s eyes.

“Not here.”

That’s the end of it. No elaboration. Just a simple fact.

The movie keeps playing. Kate sips her wine. Yelena adjusts her arm around the sleeping child. Neither of them says it…but something clicks into place. Ten minutes become twenty. Then thirty. Then they’re halfway through the movie and no one moves.

//

Outside, the city hums. Inside, Paddington triumphs and the credits roll. The glow of the TV softens the room. Yelena brushes a piece of hair back from Ereka’s forehead without thinking. Kate watches her do it.

Eventually, Yelena speaks.

“Should I carry her to bed?”

Kate nods.

Yelena rises with surprising ease, the child curled into her shoulder like she’s done this a thousand times.

Kate leads the way to Ereka’s room. She pulls the covers back. Yelena lays the girl down. They sneak out. Close the door.

Back in the living room, they both hover by the couch. Waiting. The silence stretches. After a long, awkward moment Kate tests the waters.

“Do you want to stay?” Yelena shrugs. “Close enough.”

Kate sits first. Leaves space. Yelena lowers herself onto the other end of the couch.

“You want to watch something else?”

Yelena shrugs again.

“I prefer it when you at least give me single syllables.” Kate mutters, half a smile tugging at her lips.

Yelena smirks.

“We can watch something.”

Kate exhales.

“Look at you. Full sentences. Highly evolved. I’m impressed.”

Yelena leans back into the cushions. She glances over. Kate’s watching her again.