#nate barton

Since the rather awkward but well-meaning ‘shovel talk’ with the Bartons, Yelena and Kate had ended up staying at the Barton family farm for an entire week longer than originally planned. What had been intended as a few days of refuge had quietly extended itself into something far gentler, far warmer, than either of them had expected. There was something disarmingly soothing about the rhythm of life on the farm, the quiet hum of daily chores, the wide-open skies, and the simple, grounding presence of people who truly cared. It gave them both a rare chance to breathe, to just exist for a while without the weight of New York pressing down on their shoulders.

But while it had seemed, from the outside, like they were merely resting, Yelena had been anything but idle. Beneath her calm exterior, she had been working tirelessly, almost obsessively, with Sonya and their trusted legal contact to untangle the complicated mess that Kate’s life had become in the wake of her mother’s downfall. Eleanor Bishop’s surrender of her assets had been swifter and more complete than anyone could have anticipated. Every account, every share, every property, Eleanor had signed them all over, as though ridding herself of a burden too heavy to carry. It felt almost too easy, and Kate, naturally, had been suspicious.

More than once, she had shot Yelena a wary glance over her laptop screen, voicing her concern in cautious, half-whispered words. "Lena, are we... sure this is legal?" she had asked, worry creasing her brow. But Yelena, who had seen far murkier corners of the world, had only given her that quietly assured look and a faint smile, saying softly, “Trust me, detka (babe).” And Kate had, because Yelena had become the one person in the world Kate trusted without hesitation, even when it made her stomach twist with nerves.

So now, officially, Kate had it all. More money than she would ever need, full ownership of Bishop Securities, and the penthouse. But while the money and the company had been practical victories, the penthouse remained a heavy weight chained to her chest. Yelena could see it in her eyes every time the topic came up, that tightness in her expression, the way her lips would press together just a little too firmly, like she was swallowing back the memories it dredged up. Memories of her mother, of loneliness, of a life that no longer felt like her own.

What Kate didn’t know, however, was that Yelena had been working quietly, almost obsessively, behind the scenes to fix that as well. She had spent stolen moments on hushed phone calls, slipping away under the guise of errands or casual strolls, laying the groundwork for a surprise that she hoped would soften Kate’s return to the city. She had no intention of letting Kate step back into a place that made her heart ache. 

As for the two of them, well, their fledgling relationship had blossomed into something far sweeter, far steadier, than either had dared hope. They were almost inseparable now, moving through the days with a natural, easy closeness that felt like breathing. When Yelena wasn’t off plotting her secret surprise, she and Kate spent nearly every moment together, as if making up for all the time they had lost to danger and uncertainty.

Every night, without fail, they curled up together in bed, their bodies instinctively gravitating toward one another. Yelena, despite her usual bravado, had slipped quite happily into the role of little spoon, tucking herself securely against Kate’s chest, as if Kate alone could keep the world at bay. Kate never once complained. She held Yelena close like she was something fragile and precious, pressing absent-minded kisses to her hair as they drifted off to sleep.

On the two nights that Kate’s nightmares resurfaced, Yelena didn't let her face them alone. She would sit up, bleary-eyed but determined, and throw on a movie until the shadows retreated from Kate’s mind. They’d stay awake together, wrapped in each other’s arms beneath the dim glow of the laptop screen, until exhaustion finally pulled them under.

But it wasn’t just the quiet, intimate moments that wove them closer. Their days had become something out of a dream. They tried everything the countryside could offer, throwing themselves into each moment with reckless abandon. When they weren’t in school, Clint’s kids had roped them into backyard games that became rambunctious affairs since Yelena, competitive to the bone, was determined not to let anyone, not even a child, beat her at capture the flag. 

Kate, of course, took this as a challenge, and the two of them ended up diving across the grass, tangled together in breathless laughter as Lucky barked encouragement from the sidelines.

They spent sunny afternoons sprawled out on blankets beneath the wide, open sky, making daisy chains and pretending not to care who could make the longest one, though both of them absolutely did. 

There were early mornings too, when Kate would let herself be coaxed out of bed just to watch the sun rise over the fields. She’d grumble the whole way, burying her face in Yelena’s shoulder, but the moment the sky blushed pink and gold, she’d quietly admit it was worth it. Yelena would kiss her temple in reply, smiling into her hair, and Kate’s complaints would fade into contented silence.

Their walks turned into playful races, always ending with them breathless and triumphant, collapsing into the long grass and staring up at the sky as if they had all the time in the world. Clint and Laura watched them from a distance with soft smiles, seeing not just two young women who had survived too much, but two people who, finally, were learning how to live.

It wasn’t perfect. There were still shadows that lingered at the edges, ghosts of fear and memory they hadn’t yet outrun. But, for the first time in what felt like forever, they’d found something that resembled home, a fragile, precious thing that made them believe, even if only quietly, that they could build something lasting. And that was exactly why, eventually, it had to end. 

They couldn’t stay with the Bartons forever. They had lives waiting for them, roads that needed to be walked. Kate had a business to mend, a city to reclaim, and Yelena had sisters to free, a mission that still burned bright beneath her ribs. As comforting as it was to stay wrapped in the warmth of family, borrowed as it was, they knew deep down it couldn’t last.

So, over breakfast on a sleepy Sunday morning, Kate finally broke the news. She set down her coffee cup and, with a quiet kind of resolve, told the Bartons they’d be leaving that evening. It felt heavy and right all at once.

Later, as they were packing, Clint appeared in the doorway of what had become Kate’s room, and now, unmistakably, Yelena’s too. He lingered for a second, awkward, almost like he didn’t know where to place himself. His fingers tapped against the doorframe before he spoke, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Kate,” he began, clearing his throat, eyes flicking between her and Yelena. “Could we, uh… could we talk? You know… privately? Before you go?”

Kate blinked, caught off guard. A flicker of worry pinched at her brow. Why couldn’t Yelena hear this too? What did he need to say that wasn’t for both of us? But still, she nodded, a tight little motion, and set down the jumper she’d been folding. With a glance at Yelena, she followed Clint out of the room, her heart thudding a little faster than before.

They had made their way to the dining table, and Clint had wordlessly set a cup of coffee in front of Kate. They sat across from one another, the space between them somehow vast and suffocating all at once. The silence felt brittle, stretched too thin, and Clint’s discomfort was obvious in the way his gaze darted to the window, to the table, to anything but her. He seemed to struggle with where to begin, the words knotting in his throat.

“Clint… what is it?” Kate’s voice cracked as she tried to make it sound lighter, a nervous little chuckle slipping through her lips, though it did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest. “You’re scaring me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, his brows pulling together as he exhaled a long, shaky breath. When he looked back at her, there was something fragile in his expression, something that made her stomach twist.

“I know you’re probably not going to want to hear this,” he began, his voice rough and uneven, tripping over the weight of his own words. “But I need you to understand… I wouldn’t bring it up if I weren’t worried. I am worried. I just…I need to be sure you’re going to be okay.”

The moment the words left him, her heart lurched to her throat. Her breath caught, brittle and sharp, and her hands instinctively curled around the warm mug in front of her, as if it could somehow ground her.

“Laura told you,” she whispered, her voice barely there, a hollow breath against the growing storm inside her chest. It wasn’t a question, it didn’t need to be. She felt her pulse thunder in her ears, anxiety clawing its way up like a rising tide.

Clint gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. His eyes were glassy, rimmed red as he swallowed against the swell of emotion. “She did,” he admitted, his voice tight. “She was worried, Kate. You’re going back there, and last time, you just…” He faltered, his breath catching as he tried to gather the words that had been gnawing at him. “You cut us off. Completely. And I thought—” his voice broke, and he pressed his lips together for a beat, forcing the lump in his throat down. “I thought we made it clear you mattered to us. I thought you knew how much you mattered. I’m so sorry, Kate. We should’ve made it clear.”

Kate’s eyes stung with unshed tears as she shook her head, her chest aching. She could see him fighting against the tears clouding his vision, see the cracks in his usually steady composure.

“Clint,” she breathed, her voice trembling, “stop. Please. Don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She swallowed hard, her throat raw. “I knew you cared. I always did. It’s just… God, Clint, it wasn’t about that. No matter what you or Laura said, or did, or tried… it felt like time. I didn’t see any other way. I didn’t plan to stay, no matter what.”

Her confession hung heavy in the air between them, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, a single tear slipped free down Clint’s cheek, his breath shuddering as he blinked hard, like he could will the rest away.

“We could’ve lost you, Kate,” he rasped, his voice thick with grief and fear that hadn’t eased with time. His fingers curled into fists on the table. “We could’ve lost you and I—” He stopped himself, shook his head as if the thought alone was too much to bear. “I don’t want you to go back to New York,” he said hoarsely. “We don’t want you to go. You’re safe here. You’re safe with us.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and Kate’s lips parted, but the words tangled in her throat, caught between the crushing guilt and the fragile tenderness of what Clint was saying. 

Her eyes burned, and she blinked fast, but it did nothing to stop the tears that blurred her vision. She hated this feeling, this raw exposure, this vulnerability that made her feel like her chest had been split wide open, but more than that, she hated how right he was. How much it hurt to hear the truth spoken out loud.

“I know,” she rasped, her voice unsteady as she pushed the words free. “I know you don’t want me to go. And maybe part of me doesn’t want to either.” Her hands tightened around the mug, knuckles pale. “But I can’t hide here forever, Clint. I can’t stay safe in this house and pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, forcing back the sob that clawed at her chest. “I have to face it. I have to try, even if it’s terrifying. Even if I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

Clint’s eyes searched hers, as if he could somehow shoulder the weight of her fears if he just looked hard enough. “You are strong enough,” he said, his voice rough but certain. “But you don’t have to do it alone, Katie. You never have to do it alone again.”

Her heart clenched painfully at the nickname, at the way he said it like she was still that same stubborn, reckless girl who followed him into danger without thinking. She let out a shaky breath, and a tear slipped free, trailing down her cheek. “I’m not alone,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Not anymore.”

As if summoned by her words, there was a soft sound behind them, a light, almost hesitant knock against the doorframe. Kate turned her head, blinking through her tears to see Yelena standing there. She looked out of place in the doorway, her usual sharp confidence softened by something gentler, more uncertain. Her gaze flicked between them, lingering on Kate’s tear-streaked face, her brows knitting with quiet concern.

“Am I interrupting?” Yelena asked, though her voice was quiet, and it was obvious she already knew the answer. “I just…I had a feeling and wanted to check...”

Kate’s chest tightened at the sight of her, at the warmth and the worry in her eyes. She shook her head, her breath catching in her throat. “No,” she managed, her voice breaking. “No, you’re not.”

Clint followed her gaze, and something in his expression shifted, a realisation, a kind of fragile relief. He cleared his throat and wiped at his cheek with the back of his hand, trying to pull himself together. “Never,” he said hoarsely. “Because I think you’re part of this too.”

Yelena stepped further into the room, her eyes never leaving Kate. Without needing to be asked, she came to her side, her presence grounding and steady. She didn’t say anything right away, just placed a gentle hand on Kate’s shoulder, her thumb brushing in quiet circles against her skin. It was such a small gesture, but it sent a wave of warmth through Kate’s chest, steadying the storm just a little.

Kate exhaled shakily, leaning into the touch. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I’m so scared.”

Yelena’s brows softened, and she crouched slightly so she could meet Kate’s eyes, her hand never leaving her shoulder. “I know,” she said simply. “But you do not have to be scared alone.”

There was no hesitation in her words, no uncertainty. Just quiet, unwavering resolve. And somehow, it was exactly what Kate needed to hear.

Clint watched them for a moment longer, his own heart aching, but there was a glimmer of comfort in his gaze now. He could see it,  the way Kate’s breathing had steadied, the way her shoulders had relaxed beneath Yelena’s touch. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

“You’ve got people in your corner, Katie,” Clint said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You always will.”

Kate breathed out slowly, she felt herself slowly, gently, start to unravel, not in the way she used to, not like she was falling apart, but like she was letting the walls down at last, brick by careful brick. Her eyes, still glassy with tears, drifted from Yelena’s steady, grounding presence back to Clint, whose expression had softened into something achingly familiar. Protective. Warm. Family.

Without thinking, she reached across the table and took his hand. Clint’s eyes flickered in surprise, but his fingers curled around hers almost immediately, rough and calloused but comforting all the same. 

For a moment, they just sat there like that. No one spoke. No one needed to. The sunlight filtered in weakly through the window, catching on the glisten of Kate’s tears, on the rough edges of Clint’s worry, and the silent protectiveness in Yelena’s gaze. 

Clint was the first to break the quiet, “You promise you’ll call?” he asked, and despite himself, his voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Kate gave a soft, trembling laugh through her own tears. “I promise,” she said. Then she tilted her head towards Yelena with a teasing edge that didn’t quite hide the affection beneath it. “Actually, you’ll probably be begging me to stop calling. We’re gonna annoy you so much.”

Yelena, catching on immediately, flashed the smallest, mischievous smile. “I will make sure she calls every day,” she said, deadpan. “Maybe two times. Possibly three. Don’t worry, Barton, I will make sure you are stuck with her. ”

Kate let out a wet laugh, her chest tightening with something warm and golden, and Clint chuckled low in his throat, shaking his head like he already knew they weren’t joking. “I’ll take it,” he said, voice thick with emotion, a tearful smile breaking through. “As long as it means she doesn’t disappear on me again.”

“I won’t let her,” Yelena said quickly, her tone still light but threaded with quiet certainty. “I mean, I know where she lives. She has no chance of disappearing, not on my watch. I’ll keep an eye on her, like a… hawk.” Her smirk lingered, the joke deliberate with two Hawkeyes right there, but beneath the mischief was something steadier, an unspoken promise, offered straight to Clint. She would be there. Kate wouldn’t be alone again. Not if Yelena had anything to say about it.

Kate rolled her eyes at the truly terrible joke, but Clint didn’t flinch. He saw it for what it was and nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He trusted Yelena, trusted her word, regardless of her past or the fact that she was a Widow trained to deceive. None of that mattered. What mattered was the way she looked at Kate, the way she spoke with quiet conviction. Clint knew, deep down, that Yelena cared. Really cared. And she wouldn’t let Kate slip away without a fight.

They stayed like that for a little while longer, but eventually, Laura drifted into the room too, sensing the quiet aftermath of emotion, and she said nothing at first. She simply crossed to Clint’s side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, her gaze soft and full of understanding as she took in the scene.

Yelena was the one who broke the moment, lifting her hand to gently nudge Kate’s cheek with her knuckles, wiping away the last of her tears. “Come,” she said softly. “We still have packing to do.”

Kate swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She rose from her chair, giving Clint’s hand one final squeeze before letting go, and Clint caught her in a rough, protective hug that she gladly melted into. He held her tightly for a moment, and when they pulled apart, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You’ll always have a place here,” he said, his voice thick. “Always.”

Kate didn’t trust her voice to work, so she just nodded, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Yelena, standing close at her side, brushed her fingers along Kate’s arm before lacing their hands together as they stepped away from the table. 

-----

As they moved to finish packing, there was a softness in the air between them, a quiet understanding that no matter how heavy this moment felt, they were not carrying it alone. Yelena kept close to Kate’s side as they gathered her things, not in the way of someone hovering, but as though she were quietly anchoring Kate, offering her steadiness without words, her presence a silent promise: You’re not alone in this.

Downstairs, the Barton kids were waiting, lingering in the living room like they didn’t quite know what to do with themselves. Lila was twisting a hair tie around her fingers, her eyes red-rimmed though she tried to mask it with a brave, lopsided smile. Cooper stood awkwardly near the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, while Nathaniel clung to his mother’s hand, his gaze solemn.

Kate’s chest ached at the sight of them. She swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat and managed a small smile as she stepped forward, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Hey, guys,” she said softly, her voice catching just a little.

“You sure you have to go?” Lila asked, her voice wobbly but determined. She tried to play it off with a lightness that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I mean, we were finally getting you trained for family game night.”

Kate let out a breathy laugh, even as her vision blurred with tears. She set her bag down for a moment and crossed to Lila, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered, her voice raw with honesty.

Lila clung back fiercely, like she never wanted to let go. “I already miss you,” she whispered back.

When they parted, Cooper was already stepping forward, his usual cool composure cracked at the edges. He didn’t say anything at first, just pulled Kate into a quick, awkward hug that lingered longer than expected. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he said, pulling back just enough to look at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I won’t,” Kate promised, her throat tight.

Nathaniel, still holding Laura’s hand, looked up at her with wide, earnest eyes. “Will you come back for Christmas?” he asked, his voice so small, so hopeful, it nearly broke her heart.

Kate crouched down to his level, brushing a hand through his hair gently. “Of course,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Then, to her surprise, Nathaniel turned shyly toward Yelena, his gaze flicking between her and his mother as though unsure if it was okay. Laura gave him a gentle nudge, and he stepped forward. Without a word, he wrapped his little arms around Yelena in a spontaneous, childlike hug.

Yelena froze, blinking down at him as though she couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Her arms hovered in the air, stiff and unsure, before she awkwardly lowered them and rested her hands on his back, her touch gentle but uncertain. She glanced at Kate, a flicker of bewilderment in her eyes, but Kate just offered her a small, encouraging smile.

When Nathaniel let go, Lila stepped up next. “You’re family now, too, you know,” she said, her voice wobbling with emotion. Without waiting for a response, she threw her arms around Yelena’s waist, squeezing tightly.

This time, Yelena’s arms came up a little more naturally, hesitantly at first, then with growing warmth as she let herself return the hug properly. Something unfamiliar bloomed in her chest, sharp, aching, but not unpleasant. She didn’t know what to say, but Lila didn’t seem to need words.

Even Cooper, awkward and a bit shy, gave her a quick, one-armed hug before stepping back, clearing his throat like he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle his own emotions.

Yelena, blinking in astonishment, could only nod, her throat tight with things she didn’t know how to express.

Laura stepped forward then, her gaze soft but steady, and for a moment, Yelena thought she might simply offer a nod of farewell. But instead, Laura’s arms wrapped around her in a warm, full embrace, with no hesitation at all.

And Yelena… melted. Her breath caught in her chest as she felt something inside her crack wide open, something old and defensive and brittle. She sank into the hug without thinking, her hands clutching the back of Laura’s sweater, her eyes fluttering shut as she allowed herself, just for a heartbeat, to be held, to feel it. No tactics, no calculation. Just warmth.

Laura’s voice was quiet in her ear. “You take care of her,” she murmured, full of quiet strength. “And yourself, okay?”

Yelena’s reply was immediate, fierce and true. “I will,” she said, her voice rough.

Laura stepped towards Kate next, her gaze soft but steady as she pulled Kate into a firm hug. She didn’t say anything at first, just held her tight, as though that could say everything she needed. When she finally spoke, her voice was warm and low in Kate’s ear. “You’re always welcome here. Any time, for any reason.”

“I know,” Kate whispered, blinking back fresh tears. “Thank you… for everything.”

With the goodbyes nearly said, Kate and Yelena turned to Clint one last time. He stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to hold himself together. His eyes were red but proud, a complicated mix of emotions etched across his face.

Kate crossed to him, and without a word, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. It wasn’t a quick hug, or one of obligation,  it was long, full of everything they couldn’t quite say aloud. Gratitude. Fear. Love. Hope. 

When they finally drew apart, Clint’s hands stayed steady on her shoulders, grounding her. His eyes were misted but unwavering, the kind of look that made promises without needing to be loud about it.

“Remember what I said,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “There’s nowhere too far, no hour too late. You need us, Kate, you call. You will call. Don’t shut us out again.”

Her throat tightened, but she nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “I will,” she said, and she meant it with every bruised, mending piece of her.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Clint turned toward Yelena, his expression softening. For a beat, she thought he might offer only a nod or a handshake, something safe, something she expected.

But instead, Clint stepped forward and pulled her into a firm, rough-edged hug. Yelena’s eyes widened in surprise, her body stiffening instinctively, not knowing how to respond. But as Clint held her, solid and sure, something within her eased, and she found herself returning the embrace, albeit a little awkwardly.

“You’re stuck with us now,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with feeling. “Whether you like it or not.”

Yelena huffed a quiet, unsteady breath that might have been a laugh, blinking fast against a sudden sting behind her eyes. “I like it,” she admitted, so quietly she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud.

Finally, with her bag slung back over her shoulder and Yelena and Lucky at her side, Kate made her way to the door. She paused on the threshold, her eyes sweeping over the familiar walls, the family that had become her own, the place that had caught her when she was at her lowest. She felt Yelena’s hand slip into hers, grounding her, and she tightened her grip like it was a lifeline.

With one last lingering look, Kate stepped outside. The air was cool and fresh, carrying with it the promise of something new. Yelena followed close beside her, their hands still entwined, with Lucky trotting beside them as they walked toward the car waiting at the edge of the drive.

-----

The car ride was quiet at first. Not tense, just still, like the whole world had exhaled and now sat in that long, lingering breath before anything else could be said. The hum of the engine was the only sound for a while, and even that felt hushed beneath the weight of everything they’d just left behind.

Kate sat slouched in the passenger seat, her forehead resting near the window. She wasn’t watching the scenery so much as letting it blur past, grey trees and fading light bleeding together as if the world outside were holding its breath too. Her fingers worked absently at the zipper of her coat, tugging it up and down in small, repetitive motions. Her eyes were distant, not quite teary, but heavy with the kind of sadness that sat deep in the chest, the kind that didn’t need an excuse anymore.

Yelena didn’t speak. She kept her eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, but her attention was split, always aware of the woman beside her. She didn’t know what Kate needed yet: space, comfort, or distraction? Yelena had never been good at guessing with emotions, so instead she just tried to be steady, solid. Present.

But her mind wasn’t quiet. The warmth of the Barton household still clung to her like something she didn’t know how to wear, too soft, too kind, like slipping into borrowed clothes. It had all left a strange, aching feeling in her chest. Not bad. Just unfamiliar.

Every so often, Yelena flicked her gaze sideways, sneaking glances at Kate when she thought she wouldn’t notice. She watched the way Kate’s shoulders curled in on themselves, how her forehead leaned just a little toward the glass, like she needed the coolness against her skin to keep from fraying at the edges.

“You okay?” Yelena asked at last, her voice low and softer than usual, careful not to disturb the fragile peace between them.

Kate didn’t look at her. She blinked slowly, lashes thick and heavy. Her voice came a moment later, quiet and thin around the edges. “I think so. Just…” Her shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “It hurts. Saying goodbye to something that felt like home.”

Yelena nodded slowly, her jaw tightening. “It is home,” she said, simply. 

Kate exhaled a soft chuckle, the kind that wasn’t really a laugh, just the sound of something caught in her throat. “Not anymore,” she murmured, her voice fragile, barely audible. “I guess, I knew it couldn’t last, but I let myself pretend it could.”

Yelena’s throat tightened at the words, the weight of them settling over her like a familiar ache. She understood how it was easier to hold on to something, even if you knew it was slipping through your fingers. The pretending was comforting. The hope, however fragile, was easier than facing the emptiness. She wanted to say it out loud, but the words felt foreign, trapped somewhere between Russian and English, like they couldn’t fully exist in either language.

Instead, Yelena reached across the centre console, her movements slow, deliberate. Her fingers brushed against Kate’s lightly, just a touch, an unspoken question, a quiet offer. When Kate didn’t pull away, Yelena’s fingers curled into hers, tentative but warm, like the simple act of holding on to something could bridge the space between them.

Their fingers fit together as if they had done it a thousand times, a natural closeness that spoke louder than words ever could. Kate turned toward her then, just a little, her eyes searching Yelena’s face, as if bracing herself for a truth she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear.

Yelena kept her gaze ahead, focusing on the road, but her voice, when it came, was calm, like she was setting something delicate and important between them, something fragile, but real. “For so long, home to me was just… a place,” she said, her voice quiet, the words wrapped in layers of thought. “Walls, furniture, somewhere to sleep. You know? But... that’s not home. Home is the people. It’s the feeling. The safety. The knowing you’re protected, you’re not alone.”

Kate didn’t say anything, but her posture shifted slightly, her shoulders relaxing a fraction, as if the words were reaching her slowly, like the warmth of sunlight breaking through clouds. Yelena’s words, though soft, held weight; they were not just comforting, but profound, the kind of wisdom earned from loss and quiet reflection.

Yelena breathed in again, her gaze still fixed ahead. “And trust me, Kate… I was young, but I remember how it felt to lose everything. To lose Ohio, to lose home. It’s not something you forget. So I know how you’re feeling. I know how your mind is loud with the dark thoughts, that they’re telling you that you have nothing left again.”

Kate blinked hard, her lips pressing together, the rawness of the words hitting deeper than she expected. She wanted to respond, to say something, but the knot in her throat tightened.

Yelena’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, not in a hurry, just a steady, grounding presence. “But that’s not true,” she said, her tone firming, but still gentle, as if she was holding Kate’s heart in her hands and didn’t want to break it. “You still have a home, Kate. You still have Clint. And the Bartons. They are your home. Even if they’re not with you right now. They’re still there. They’re a part of you, and that doesn’t change because you’re not in the same place.”

Kate’s gaze flicked to Yelena, and for the first time since they’d left, she found herself meeting her eyes, searching, trying to find the truth there. Her breath caught in her chest, a slight tremor in her fingers as she held Yelena’s hand.

“You just have to let them stay,” Yelena said gently, her voice laced with something ancient and quiet and steady, not just comfort, but the kind of truth you only speak after surviving its opposite. “Don’t shut them out, Kate. Don’t let the physical location convince you that you’ve lost your home. You still have a home. That part of your life is still yours. They are still yours.”

Kate didn’t respond right away. Her gaze dropped to their hands, still lightly joined, resting between them, their fingers twined so naturally it felt like they’d never learned how to be apart. There was something sacred in the simplicity of it. The warmth of Yelena’s skin, the stillness between them, the way their hands just… fit. And yet, her voice, when it came, was small and hesitant, barely above a breath. “You… you’re saying them,” she said softly. “You’re still mine, right?”

Yelena let out a quiet laugh, more of a gentle exhale through her nose, not mocking, more like she was amused by how unnecessary the question felt to her. “I think I’ve made that very clear, no?” she said, giving Kate’s hand a tender squeeze. “I’m yours. Even in New York. I will be there. Maybe not in the same way… maybe in a slightly different capacity, but still there.”

That last part made Kate’s stomach turn, something unpleasant curling in her chest. She shifted to face her more fully, brows drawing together. “Different capacity?” she repeated, her voice laced with a sudden unease. A thread of panic began to wind its way through her ribs. “But… you said you didn’t have to take contracts. You said you could stay. We worked it all out! You said you’d stay, Yelena. You promised.” Her voice cracked as it rose, urgency bleeding through. “You said you wouldn’t leave.”

Yelena glanced at her quickly, guilt flickering across her face before she looked back at the road. “Hey, hey, malyshka (baby)…shhh. I’m not leaving, okay?” she said carefully, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll be in New York. I just meant things will be different now. We won’t be living together anymore, not like at the Bartons.”

Kate froze, breath catching. “Wait… what?” she said, blinking hard. “Why wouldn’t we live together?”

Yelena looked at her, startled by the question, genuinely confused. “Because…” she said slowly, choosing her words with care, “that’s not the custom, is it? People don’t usually live together unless they are family, or married, or something more formal. I just assumed you would want to wait.” She gave a small, helpless shrug. “I was trying to respect that.”

And it hit Kate then, sharp and sudden, a wave of aching clarity crashing over her. Yelena wasn’t pulling away because she wanted distance. She wasn’t looking for an exit. She just didn’t understand that she already belonged there, that Kate didn’t need her to wait, didn’t want her to step back out of politeness or cultural confusion. Yelena was just trying to honour boundaries she didn’t realise didn’t exist.

Kate let out a breath, half sob, half laugh, thick with feeling. “Yelena,” she said, her voice trembling under the weight of something she couldn’t hold back anymore, “it’s not customary to fall in love with the person who tried to kill your mentor either… but I did.”

She hadn’t planned to say it, hadn’t even known it was coming. But the moment it left her mouth, something irreversible shifted in the air around them.

Yelena went still. Every muscle in her body locked up, her spine snapping straight like a string had been yanked. Her hand, still resting loosely in Kate’s, twitched violently then recoiled. Not with force. Not with intent. Just instinct. Sharp, sudden, automatic. Her body reacting before her mind could catch up.

And Kate felt it. The loss of that touch, that small, steady tether, was like ice water rushing over her skin.

Yelena didn’t speak. Didn’t look at her. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, wide and unfocused, her breath starting to come faster in shallow little pulls. Her shoulders curved inwards slightly, her posture folding in on itself like she was trying to become smaller or bracing for something invisible, something inevitable.

Because in her head, something had already struck. The Red Room wasn’t just a memory, it was a sensation. It was present. It was there in the cold that settled along her spine, in the tightening of her jaw, in the way her heart screamed danger at the idea of being loved. Love had never been something she was allowed to keep. From the moment they’d taken her, she’d been taught that love was weakness. That it would cost her everything.

She remembered the beatings, girls forced to kneel while their bodies were broken for even looking too long at someone with softness in their eyes. She remembered the punishments for loyalty, for comfort, for friendship. And worst of all, she remembered Natasha. The one person she had ever let herself love, and the way it had ended. In death. In unbearable, unfixable loss.

The problem was, Yelena knew she was in love, not in theory, not as some distant concept, but in the quiet, intimate moments that made up life with Kate. She felt it every time Kate touched her without hesitation, every time she laughed mid-argument or dozed off with her head on Yelena’s shoulder like she trusted her with everything. She knew. But she refused to name it. She’d dressed it up as care, loyalty, fondness, softer words, safer ones. Even when Laura had called it what it was, gently and without judgment, Yelena had sidestepped it. Because naming it made it real. Naming it made it dangerous.

Yelena had promised herself she wouldn’t make the same mistake as Natasha. That was why she’d allowed this, allowed herself to have Kate, allowed herself to have them. She’d chosen not to run. She understood now that survival didn’t mean cutting herself off from feeling.

But understanding wasn’t the same as saying it. Actually putting a name to the feeling, and acknowledging it out loud was something else entirely. That word still lit up all the old wires in her brain, still made her skin feel too tight, her chest pound and her body ache. 

But now Kate had said it, and that meant she was loved. It meant it was real. It meant she had something to lose. And no matter how much she wanted it, how much she already had it, the moment the word was spoken, something in her buckled. Because once it was named, it couldn’t be stuffed back into a box.

She didn’t even notice her hand rising to her neck, didn’t register her fingers digging into the pressure points, not hard enough to bruise, but tight. Pressing. Containing. Controlling. Squeezing like she could choke the emotion down, shove it back into the depths where it couldn’t hurt her. 

Until she felt Kate’s hand. 

Kate had reached out, her fingers curling lightly over Yelena’s, gently pulling her hand away from her neck. No pressure. No force. Just touch. Just presence.

“I’m not asking you to say it,” Kate whispered. “I never even meant to… but I’m not going to take it back, Yelena.  And I get it, this is new. Just… take your time.”

Yelena’s eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, she looked lost, undone in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. Her breathing was uneven, eyes glassy and wide, lips parted but unable to form words.

When she finally spoke, her voice was low and hoarse and broken at the edges. “I feel it too,” she whispered, avoiding the words she was still too afraid to say.

Kate smiled, a smile so full of quiet understanding. “I know,” she said simply, like that was enough. “It’s okay.”

And somehow, that warmth in Kate’s gaze anchored Yelena, not like a rescue, not like a cure, but like a rope tied around her waist in the middle of a raging storm. Just enough to keep her tethered. Just enough to remind her she wasn’t lost.

The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but delicate. Yelena had turned the music on low, some indie playlist Kate had made, and was humming faintly along now, her body just a touch looser, her jaw no longer clenched. It looked almost like peace.

But Kate couldn't sit still, a question burned a hole behind her teeth. She tried not to speak. Tried to let it pass like she always did. Eventually, she couldn’t hold it back.

“Lena?” she asked softly, cautiously, after a few minutes.

Yelena flicked her gaze over, eyebrow arched in quiet acknowledgement. “Hmm?”

Kate took a steadying breath, her voice careful. “I wanted to ask you something. I’ve seen it a few times now, and I know I probably shouldn’t… I mean, I get that it’s not my place, maybe it’s just a thing you do and I’m overthinking…I just… if it’s important, I don’t want to keep ignoring it. And you don’t always like talking about things, which is okay, but—”

“Kate,” Yelena interrupted, gently but firmly, “you are rambling. What is it, Little Hawk?”

Kate pressed her lips together, cheeks flushed with tension, and then finally just blurted it out. “Why do you do that thing with your neck?”

The words hung there, naked and vulnerable in the quiet cabin of the car. She forced herself to stay silent after that, to not ramble, to give Yelena space to respond without pressure.

Yelena didn’t answer right away. She inhaled sharply, and for a second it looked like she might speak, her lips parted, her brow tight with thought, but then her phone rang through the car as it was connected, the screen lighting up with an unlisted number. No name. No text. But she knew.

Yelena didn’t hesitate. She reached for the screen on the dashboard, pressing the answer button with a swift motion. Kate noticed the subtle shift in Yelena’s posture, the faintest adjustment, like a wall going up.

Yelena greeted the caller in Russian, her voice smooth and composed. “Privet (Hello),” she said, the word feeling like a barrier between them. Kate’s brow furrowed as she listened, already aware that Yelena was using Russian to keep the conversation private. It wasn’t a new tactic; Yelena had done this before, especially when she couldn't leave the room to speak to whoever it was. It wasn’t malicious, just... practical.

From the speaker, a voice crackled, speaking quickly in Russian. “Vse gotovo. YA zapolnil kholodil'nik i shkafy. Vash Malen'kiy Yastreb budet khorosho podgotovlen na nekotoroye vremya (Everything is ready. I’ve stocked the fridge and cupboards. Your Little Hawk will be well prepared for a while).”

Yelena’s posture softened just slightly at the words, and Kate couldn’t help but watch her closely. She didn’t understand the words, but she could see the change in Yelena’s expression, a relaxation of her features, a small smile that crept onto her lips. It was a look Kate wasn’t used to seeing from Yelena towards someone else. It was... warm.

“Spasibo, sestra. YA tvoy dolzhnik (Thank you, sister. I owe you),” Yelena replied, her voice light, tinged with affection. 

Kate knew sestra meant sister. She’d heard it before when Yelena spoke about Natasha or the other widows. There was something deeply human in the way Yelena referred to them as her sisters. It was a bond Kate didn’t fully understand, but she could feel its significance.

The warmth in Yelena’s voice, however, made Kate feel... left out. She hated the feeling, but there was no denying it. She wanted to know what they were talking about, to share in this private moment, but there was no way to break through the language barrier. Not without understanding Russian, which she didn’t.

The voice from the speaker came again, faster this time. “Ty mne nichego ne dolzhen, eto ya tvoy dolzhnik (You do not owe me anything, I am in your debt).”

Yelena rolled her eyes, a playful sigh escaping her as she responded, “Zatknis'. Ty zhe znayesh', chto eto ne tak (Shut up, you know that’s not true).”

Kate smiled at the teasing tone in Yelena’s voice, but it only made her more curious. Who was this person? And why did Yelena sound so relaxed, so at ease with them? Kate could feel a knot twisting in her chest, that familiar pang of being left out, of not knowing. 

It was clear that this person was someone important to Yelena, someone she was close to. Maybe it was Sonya? Yelena had mentioned Sonya in passing before, especially when talking about her business and mother. But Kate had never heard Sonya’s voice. She couldn’t be sure.

“Nu i ladno, kogda ya smogu uvidet' Malen'kogo Yastreba (Whatever, when can I meet the Little Hawk?)”

Kate noticed Yelena stiffen at the question, her posture tightening, becoming just a little more guarded. There was something about the way she reacted that made Kate wonder what had been said. 

Yelena’s fingers tapped on the steering wheel as she responded, sighing lightly. “YA zavtra zayedu v konspirativnuyu kvartiru, mne nuzhny moi veshchi. Mozhet, ya yeye privezu (I’ll stop by the safe house tomorrow, I need my things. Maybe I’ll bring her).”

Kate tilted her head, trying to piece the conversation together. The words felt like an unsolved puzzle. She could sense the tension in Yelena’s voice, the slight tightness in her shoulders as she spoke. Kate’s concern deepened, though she had no idea what was really going on.

“YA znala, chto ty srazu zhe dvinesh'sya! Chto sluchilos' s ozhidaniyem (I knew you’d move in right away! What happened to waiting?)” The voice on the other end laughed, warm and teasing, and Kate could feel the lightheartedness of the moment, even though she didn’t understand the words. It was clear the person knew Yelena well.

Yelena’s voice softened once again, a faint smile tugging at her lips, but there was something deeper behind it. A sense of resignation, like she was admitting to something she hadn’t planned to. “Ona khotela, chtoby ya ostalsya (She wanted me to stay).”

Kate’s heart skipped at the sudden vulnerability in Yelena’s voice, something that felt rare, especially from someone as guarded as her. She wanted to ask, to check in, something…but before she could, the voice from the speaker came back, more genuine now, though still with a teasing edge. “YA rada za tebya, sestra. Ty etogo zasluzhivayesh' (I’m happy for you, sister. You deserve it).

Yelena’s fingers relaxed on the wheel, her whole body seeming to loosen. The conversation had gone on long enough now that it was beginning to blur together in Kate’s mind, a constant stream of words she couldn’t follow. But there was something comforting about it, the rhythm of Yelena’s voice, even if Kate didn’t understand everything. In that moment, Kate didn’t need to understand. She just needed to be here, next to Yelena, in this quiet, private space.

After a while, Kate’s eyelids grew heavy. She couldn’t keep her focus, the soothing sound of Yelena’s voice and the murmur of the conversation becoming a lullaby of sorts. She curled into her seat, closing her eyes for just a moment, her question from earlier momentarily forgotten. The words faded into the background, and before she knew it, Kate had fallen asleep, comforted by Yelena’s presence even if she couldn’t understand a single thing being said.

-----

They drove through the night and the next day, the road stretching on as Yelena stubbornly refused to let Kate take the wheel, again. Instead, she handed her a snack, gave her knee a reassuring pat, and said with a grin, “Relax, Kate Bishop. I’ve got this.” And she did, all the way. Between eating, blasting music, and teasing Yelena just to see her reaction, Kate let herself drift into short naps to make the journey feel faster. The deep conversations were put on hold for the rest of the journey, but Kate had promised herself she’d ask about the woman, about the strange way Yelena had squeezed her neck, but she’d wait until they were settled.

While Kate slept, Yelena remained ever watchful, her eyes scanning the road with focus. Every now and then, her gaze would flicker over to Kate, her sleeping form a serene image, head resting against the window, lips slightly parted, so peaceful it made Yelena’s chest tighten with something soft and unspoken, a moment she wished she could capture and hold onto forever.

As they finally pulled into the familiar car park by Kate’s old building, Yelena reached over and gave Kate’s hand a gentle squeeze, her touch both comforting and intimate.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Yelena’s voice was low and soothing, the faintest trace of a smile in her tone. “We’re here.”

Kate’s eyelids fluttered open, her groggy mind scrambling to make sense of her surroundings. She looked out the window and blinked, recognising the familiar car park of her old building. The puzzle pieces clicked together, and a rush of confusion followed.

“Wait…” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “I thought we were going to the penthouse?”

Yelena just looked at her, the faintest glimmer of a proud smirk playing on her lips. She reached across the car, squeezing Kate’s hand with reassuring confidence. “Just trust me.”

Kate frowned, a little disoriented as she followed Yelena out of the car. Lucky happily trotted behind them, his tail wagging as he padded alongside. Kate's body was still fogged with sleep, but a creeping sense of anticipation began to tug at her.

They reached the pizza shop at the bottom of the building, and Kate opened her mouth to say something, but Yelena was already stepping forward, gesturing to a sleek, high-tech panel now seamlessly integrated into the back wall. The old door was now a pantry, and as Yelena placed Kate’s palm against the panel, a faint click sounded, followed by a mechanical hum as the panel scanned her fingerprints, then her retina in one smooth motion (courtesy of the Bishop securities database).

“Wait. Hold on. Yelena, this… this wasn’t here before,” Kate said, her voice cracking with disbelief as she took in the new tech. “You did this…? While we were in Iowa? I mean, who did this? How?”

Yelena’s smirk was almost playful, but there was something deeper in her eyes. “I had some help. I pulled in many favours.” She then smirked. “Plus, I’m just really good,” she added, winking.

“And always so modest,” Kate chuckled, but she couldn’t help but feel her heart constrict at the thought that Yelena had pulled in favours, all for her.

Yelena didn’t answer. She just grinned as she pushed open the secondary door that led to the stairs and the loft. As they walked in, Kate saw that every surface gleamed like new, the walls freshly painted. Kate’s breath hitched as they stepped inside, and her eyes swept over the space in wonder. It wasn’t just restored, it was better. Her favourite purples touched everything, from the throw pillows to the plush area rug beneath the sleek, modern couch.

“It’s… It’s perfect,” Kate breathed, barely able to get the words out.

Yelena’s grin only grew wider as she led her inside fully, Lucky bounding past in excitement. “Check this out,” she said, tapping another discreet panel by the door. A series of sleek monitors lit up, displaying live feeds from cameras placed at every angle outside the building. “Full perimeter surveillance. Motion sensors. Fingerprint and retina locks, only yours work until you give other people access.” She gestured to the windows proudly. “Bulletproof, blast-resistant glass. Top of the line. Thermal and acoustic insulation too. No one listens, no one shoots. And no one’s getting in without you knowing. Not even me.”

Kate’s jaw dropped slightly as she ran her fingers along the panel. “Oh my God…”

“That’s not all,” Yelena continued, excitement bubbling in her voice as she guided Kate toward the kitchen. “Your kitchen, enlarged. You may actually be able to cook now!”

Kate laughed breathlessly, still overwhelmed. She noted the polished countertops, the double oven, the neatly arranged cupboards, and then Yelena threw open a drawer full of neatly stacked, gleaming cutlery.

“A normal amount of forks,” Yelena quipped, looking far too pleased with herself. “You are welcome.”

Kate let out a disbelieving laugh. “I am one person!”

Yelena rolled her eyes, folding her arms. “Maybe so, but it was sad, Kate Bishop. Pathetic, really. Your guests need cutlery!”

Kate couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from her chest, the sound bright and warm in a way that Yelena had sorely missed. They moved on to the living area, where Kate’s eyes grew impossibly wider at the sight of the colossal TV mounted on the wall, flanked by sleek bookcases and shelves filled with games and consoles.

“Okay, now you’re just showing off,” Kate teased, a smile tugging at her lips.

Yelena shrugged, though her grin remained. “Maybe a little.”

Kate turned to her, eyes still bright with wonder, but now tinged with something softer, something deeper. “Why did you do all this?”

Yelena’s smile faltered, softening into something far more serious as she met Kate’s gaze. The playfulness slipped away from her expression, replaced by a quiet intensity. “Because you didn’t need to go back to that penthouse,” she said, her voice low but firm, like a promise. “You needed somewhere that feels like you. Somewhere safe. Somewhere that is yours and not your mother’s.”

Kate’s heart skipped a beat. The words hit harder than she’d expected, a weight in her chest that she hadn’t anticipated. Without even realising it, she was moving toward Yelena. She looked at Yelena, really looked at her, as if trying to see through her, through everything, to understand the woman standing before her.

“Somewhere that is ours, Yelena,” she said softly, the words almost breathless, as if admitting them meant something bigger than she could express.

Yelena’s eyes widened, and she beamed, that signature smile returning for a brief, bright moment. “Then yes, somewhere that is ours, Kate Bishop,” she replied, the lightness in her voice betraying how much this meant to her, too. 

The room around them felt suddenly too small, and Kate found herself staring at Yelena, really staring as if seeing her for the first time. The kindness, the care, the ways she’d pulled Kate from the brink, giving her a home, a life, a future. Yelena had been a force of nature, coming out of nowhere to fix what Kate couldn’t even see. She’d pulled her back from the darkest corners, from her loneliest thoughts.

Kate blinked hard, fighting the surge of emotion that threatened to spill over. She didn’t have the words, but she couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Seriously, Lena…” Kate’s voice cracked, and she quickly cleared her throat, trying again, her tone quieter but far more earnest. “Thank you for this. You have no idea how much this means to me. Everything you’ve done… I don’t even know how to… I don’t know how to tell you how much it’s all changed things for me.”

Yelena’s eyes softened, the smile she’d been wearing slipping into something more tender, something full of understanding. “Anything for you, my Little Hawk,” she murmured, the affection in her voice sending a flutter through Kate’s chest.

But Kate couldn’t stand it anymore. Yelena had done so much, had been there when Kate felt like she was losing everything, when she was too lost in her own darkness to see what was right in front of her. It wasn’t just about the apartment. It wasn’t just about the things Yelena had fixed or done for her. It was about everything.

She reached for Yelena, her hands finding the soft curve of her face, and without thinking, without hesitation, she pulled her in. Their lips met, hard and urgent, and Kate felt a fire she hadn’t even known was there. A hunger, raw and desperate, as if everything she’d been holding back in her chest was finally spilling over, everything Yelena had been to her, everything she was to her.

Yelena’s breath caught in her throat, her body freezing for a brief moment before she melted into Kate’s touch, her hands threading into Kate’s hair as she kissed her back with an equal, frantic intensity. The kiss was desperate, untamed, as if they both needed it more than air. The world around them seemed to disappear, the hum of the city outside, the quiet of the room, all of it was swallowed up by the storm of passion between them. 

Their kiss deepened, messy and heated, every touch igniting something in both of them, something that they could no longer ignore. Kate’s fingers tightened on Yelena’s face, as if to hold her there, to keep her in this moment. Yelena was precious to her in ways Kate couldn’t quite explain, but she didn’t need to; she felt it in the way their lips met, in the urgency of their movements.

They lost themselves in each other, yet again. This was nothing new, another stolen moment in a week filled with them since they’d started dating, but this time it felt different. More intense. They both knew why. Neither of them had let it go further than this, hadn’t crossed that line yet out of respect for Clint, for the family. But here, with their bodies pressed together, hands roaming with an urgency that spoke volumes, it was as if they couldn’t hold back any longer, and they didn't have to. 

Kate’s heart was pounding in her chest, her senses overwhelmed by the feel of Yelena’s body under her hands, her lips, her breath. And then, before she even realised it, she had Yelena pressed against the wall. The soft thud of her spine hitting the surface barely registered as Kate pinned her there, deepening the kiss, drowning in the connection.

Yelena’s breath came in quick, shallow bursts, her chest rising and falling against Kate’s. They were both gasping for air, the heat between them building to a point where it felt like they might combust.

“Yebat'(Fuck), Kate,” Yelena rasped, her voice rough and full of pure want, her accent thicker than usual, her eyes dark with need.

Kate, of course, knew what that word meant, and she grinned against her lips, teasing and mischievous. She nipped at Yelena’s bottom lip before pulling back just enough to speak, her voice low and deliciously dangerous. “Maybe you should show me our new bedroom,” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her words.

What Kate didn’t expect, what made her stomach flip and heat pool low in her belly was the soft, helpless sound that escaped Yelena’s lips. A whine. A genuine, needy, utterly unguarded whine, thick with frustration and arousal.

Kate’s eyes darkened instantly, her grin sharpening into something positively wicked. “Mmm… that’s a new sound,” she teased, her breath hot against Yelena’s flushed skin. “I want to hear it again.”

Yelena groaned, her cheeks burning crimson as she threw her head back against the wall with a breathless laugh. She’d grown far too fond of this side of Kate, this confident, commanding Kate that only emerged in moments like these, when they were teetering on the edge of losing control.

Kate’s chest swelled with heat and affection, her fingers lacing through Yelena’s as she tugged her away from the wall. “Come with me, baby,” she whispered, her voice dark and sultry but still threaded with something so warm it made Yelena’s heart ache.

As Kate led her towards the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “I assume it’s in the same place? Or did you make a secret bunker somewhere in the remodel?”

Yelena’s brain had entirely melted by this point, and all she could do was nod again, swallowing thickly. Her mouth felt too dry to form words, her body thrumming with a pulse that only grew louder as they climbed the stairs together.

-----

By the time they stumbled into the bedroom, both of them breathless from their kisses and laughter, everything outside their small bubble felt like it had vanished. Yelena kicked the door shut behind them, ensuring that Lucky would not disturb them, but before she could say a word, Kate was already on top of her, pushing her back onto the bed with a grin.

Yelena’s breath hitched, the sudden shift in energy leaving her momentarily stunned. Kate hovered over her, their eyes locking, as if silently asking permission. And Yelena, her pulse racing, couldn’t look away, she just nodded. Without another thought, Kate leaned down, her lips crashing into Yelena’s with an intensity that left them both breathless, dizzy. 

Their bodies tangled together on the plush bedspread, both of them fumbling with clothes in a rush. Kate’s hands were relentless, slipping beneath Yelena’s shirt, fingers grazing over skin that seemed to spark beneath her touch. Yelena’s own hands were equally desperate, tugging at the hem of Kate’s shirt, her fingers shaking with need as they explored her back, the heat between them thickening with every movement until they were both bare to one another.

Kate’s lips moved down, her kisses now trailing over Yelena’s jaw and neck, slow and deliberate. Yelena arched under her, gasping at the soft press of her mouth against her skin. Every kiss sent a shiver through her, every caress deepening the tension that had been simmering for so long. Kate’s breath was hot against her ear, her voice a low, teasing whisper. “You are always so easy to rile up, Belova.”

Yelena's body reacted without thinking, her hands finding Kate’s shoulders and pulling her closer. “You are so cocky,” Yelena managed to say, though her voice wavered with the heat of the moment. “Just remember, I can turn the tables if I want.” Her tone was confident, but her breathless state betrayed her.

Kate smirked, a low laugh escaping her lips. She trailed a finger down Yelena’s neck, drawing patterns on her skin, before letting her finger slip lower, following the curve of her collarbone. “You probably could, but you won’t…” Kate’s voice was teasing, almost knowing. She paused, her gaze locking with Yelena’s as she let her words hang in the air. “Because you like this, don’t you, baby?”

Yelena swallowed hard, the change in Kate almost intoxicating. She couldn’t understand how Kate switched into such a confident, cocky version of herself when, in any other situation, she was a shy, rambling mess. But this side of Kate always did something to Yelena, igniting a fire she couldn't deny. Her cheeks burned red, her breath hitching, but she tried to force herself to appear unaffected. Rolling her eyes, she huffed, "Shut up, and get on with it."

Kate laughed, the sound deep and satisfying. She didn’t wait for another word before lowering her lips to Yelena’s neck, kissing her with a new intensity that had Yelena shivering. Kate’s lips trailed down, her kisses lingering on the sensitive skin of Yelena’s collarbone, while her hands continued to roam, slow and deliberate, exploring every inch of her.

“You can be patient, right? This is the first time I get to properly explore,” Kate murmured with a crooked grin, mischief curling the corners of her lips as she hovered over Yelena, her breath warm against flushed skin as she pressed a kiss beneath her jaw, then another lower down, tracing the edge of her neck with a kind of affection that felt almost reverent.

Yelena arched into her instinctively, breath hitching, her whole body already strung tight with anticipation. “Don’t want to be patient,” she whispered, voice hoarse with need, dragging Kate back down by her neck into a kiss that was far from gentle. It was messy and clumsy and real, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, fingers fisted in dark hair like she could hold her there forever.

But Kate was determined. She eased back with a smile so soft it nearly undid Yelena completely. Her hands roamed with purpose, trailing slowly over ribs, stomach, sides, like she was mapping her inch by inch. Each scar was kissed like a vow, every freckle noted. Kate treated them like something sacred, something beautiful.

So when her lips brushed lower, when she reached the scar just beneath Yelena’s abdomen, a thin line drawn by hands that had taken without permission, she didn’t even pause. She just kissed it, tender as all the others, because she didn’t know that this one was different.

And Yelena went still.

Her entire body locked, chest rising too fast, fists curling into the sheets. It felt like being split open, raw and exposed and suddenly sixteen again, back in that cold room with the sterile light and voices that told her what would happen to her body.

“No.” The word broke from her like a snap, sharp and cutting and so much heavier than it should have been.

Kate pulled back instantly, her eyes wide, concern flooding her expression like a wave. “Baby?” she said, voice low and careful, no longer playful. “What’s wrong?”

Yelena couldn’t speak for a second. Her jaw clenched. Her gaze was locked on the ceiling, like if she just stared hard enough, she could blink herself into somewhere else. “Not there,” she said finally, the words tight and quiet.

Kate froze. Her hands stilled above Yelena’s skin, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to understand. It was just a scar, like so many others…but something about this one… something clearly hurt.

“Oh.” Kate’s voice dropped instantly, all the mischief draining from her like it had never been there. “Okay. I hear you. I won’t do that again. I’m sorry.”

Yelena gave a small, silent nod, still staring up at the ceiling, her body taut with tension. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, panic clawing just beneath the surface as her hand lifted to her neck, her pointer finger and thumb squeezing as she forced herself to calm down in the only way she knew how.

Kate didn’t move right away. She stayed still, watching her, eyes soft with worry. Then, slowly, she began to ease back, every motion quiet, deliberate, like she was backing away from a startled animal. “Hey,” she said gently, voice barely above a whisper as she shifted to the side. “Let’s get comfy, yeah? We can put something dumb on and just… curl up for a bit. I’ll make popcorn. Extra butter.”

But before she could fully move away, Yelena’s hand moved from her neck and caught her wrist, quick and firm, not with force, but with something urgent. “Wait,” she said, eyes darting to meet Kate’s. There was confusion there. Guilt. Fear. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” Her voice wavered. “You… you don’t want to carry on?”

Kate’s expression crumpled, not with frustration, but with heartbreak. Gentle, unexpected heartbreak. She sank back down, her hand immediately going to Yelena’s face, cupping her cheek. “God, no. Lena, you didn’t ruin anything,” she whispered. “You said no. That’s all I need to hear. I didn’t want to keep going if you weren’t okay. All I care about is your comfort.”

Yelena stared at her, confusion swirling in her eyes. The words were so simple. So ordinary. But they struck something deep inside her. No one had ever asked her what she wanted. But Kate had stopped. Had offered her an out. Had given her something Yelena wasn’t sure she even knew how to accept.

A choice.

And it felt… powerful.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. Her eyes lifted. They were glassy, but steady now. There was still fear in them, but there was strength too. “I still want to,” she said, quiet but sure. “I just… I needed to say no to that. Not everything.”

Kate blinked, almost startled by the honesty in her voice. Her hand was still on Yelena’s cheek, thumb brushing gently beneath her eye. “You sure?” she asked softly, searching her face for even the slightest doubt. “Promise me you will tell me to stop if you aren't okay?” 

Yelena nodded, eyes steady now, voice low but sure. “I’m sure, and I promise,” she breathed, before tugging Kate back on top of her like she weighed nothing at all, like she belonged there. The kiss that followed was immediate, demanding, and so full of want it almost hurt. Yelena deepened it instantly, hands fisted in Kate’s hair, her trust spilling out through every breathless sound she made, every desperate press of her mouth to Kate’s. The lust was building, yes, but so was something warmer, quieter. Something safe.

They were both panting by the time Kate pulled away, her lips flushed, her pupils so blown the blue of her eyes had almost vanished. She stared down at Yelena like she was trying to commit her to memory, before her smirk slowly returned. “In that case,” Kate murmured, her voice playful and husky all at once, “if you still want to… I think you should say please.”

Yelena scoffed, narrowing her eyes despite how wrecked she already sounded. “I am not going to beg you, Kate. I’m not that desperate.”

It was, quite obviously, a lie. Kate’s grin deepened. “Fine,” she said sweetly, and began to shift down her body, settling between Yelena’s thighs with deliberate slowness. She met Yelena’s gaze, checking, and when Yelena gave the faintest nod, she dipped her head and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

Then another. And another. She trailed kisses down to Yelena’s knees, then back up, maddeningly slow, never quite where Yelena needed her most. All the while, her eyes stayed locked on Yelena’s face, watching the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers twisted in the sheets, her hips shifting helplessly.

“Just one little word,” Kate whispered between kisses, voice feather-light. “All you gotta do is say please, baby.”

Yelena whined and tried her best not to sound utterly undone. But Kate’s mouth was unrelenting, brushing kisses along the sensitive skin of her thighs until she was squirming, her restraint unravelling thread by thread.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Yelena muttered it, it was so quiet, guttural, almost a growl. “Please.”

Kate’s head snapped up with mock innocence. “Hmm? What was that?”

Yelena glared at her through flushed cheeks and clenched teeth. “I said, please.”

And Kate beamed like she’d just won the lottery. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“You are insufferable,” Yelena muttered, trying not to smile, failing entirely.

Kate chuckled as she finally leaned in, hands firm at Yelena’s hips to hold her still. “You really shouldn’t say that to the one person who’s about to give you everything you want.”

With that, Kate moved down further as she pushed Yelena’s legs further apart gaining a perfect view of Yelena’s cunt that was glistening for her. “So wet for me, baby girl”, she whispered, almost reverently, as if seeing this was something holy. 

Yelena blushed, her cheeks flushing even more than they had been previously. Between the teasing and the begging, Yelena was already completely flustered, but hearing those words from Kate’s mouth sent her reeling. 

Kate leaned in to place a long teasing lick right down her slit. Kate moaned from the taste while Yelena’s hips jolted up, begging for more friction, more pressure, something.

Kate understood, and her hands came up, around the back of Yelena’s thighs, before roughly pulling Yelena’s centre closer to her face. Yelena didn't even get a chance to react before Kate’s mouth was back on her, her face stuffed into Yelena’s cunt, eating her like a woman starved. 

Yelena’s hips moved instinctively, chasing every flicker of contact, the friction and heat mounting with each pulse of pleasure. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her fingers curled tightly in Kate’s hair, anchoring herself to something as the pressure inside her climbed higher. But it still wasn’t enough. She needed more. 

“Please, Kate,” she gasped, the words breaking from her lips in a desperate, breathless whimper. “I need more.”

Kate slowed, just slightly, pulling back enough to look up at her, and when she did? That look on Yelena’s face, flushed, open, and trembling on the edge of something vast. It knocked the wind out of her for a second. But then the smirk returned, dark and teasing, because Kate was helpless to resist just how beautiful Yelena was when she was falling apart like this.

“More?” Kate repeated, her voice low, teasing as it vibrated against Yelena’s skin. “So needy, maybe I should stop altogether, hm?”

Yelena let out a frustrated, wrecked little noise, a half-whine, half growl as her hips jerked again, seeking out the contact that had been so cruelly interrupted. Her hands tugged at Kate’s hair in protest, begging her to continue.

Kate’s smirk widened, pleased and playful and just a little bit wicked, as she let her hands glide slowly up Yelena’s trembling thighs, fingertips brushing deliberately light, making her shiver. “Can you tell me exactly what you need?” she asked, voice low and velvet-smooth, laced with challenge. 

Yelena groaned, dragging a hand over her face like she could hide the sheer need pulsing through her body. She wasn’t used to this, to wanting like this, but Kate had made it feel like she could be that. Like she wouldn’t be judged for wanting, for craving, for falling apart beneath someone who looked at her like she was something to be cherished.

Still, the words stuck. They caught in her throat, thick and humiliating, and her pride, sharp and stubborn kicked back even as her hips lifted again, searching. “You know what I need,” she said finally, her voice rough, teeth clenched around the edge of a growl.

Kate only laughed, warm and maddening and far too pleased with herself. “Oh, I do,” she said sweetly, fingers ghosting closer, brushing just shy of where Yelena was aching. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Yelena let out a shaking breath, her eyes fluttering shut as her head tilted back into the pillows. She was blushing furiously now, half from frustration, half from how undone she felt under Kate’s touch, her voice, her goddamn grin. 

“I need your fingers,” she said finally, hoarse and broken, her jaw tight like it cost her something. “I need you to fuck me with your fingers, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Kate blinked. Then, slowly, she grinned, soft, stunned, and absolutely wrecked by the admission. “Jesus Christ, Yelena,” she breathed, the cocky smirk dissolving into something much, much hungrier. “Yeah, that’ll do it. That is exactly what I wanted.”

And with that, she sank back down, and this time, there was no teasing. No pulling away. Her mouth attached to Yelena’s clit, as her fingers dropped lower to ghost above her entrance. Seeking out consent one final time, Kate looked into Yelena’s eyes, but found nothing but pure, unbridled hunger staring back at her, so Kate made her move. 

Kate pushed two fingers deep inside, filling her completely without another thought. Yelena squeezed her eyes shut, the sensation overwhelming, and a raw, unfiltered moan tore from her lips before she could stop it. 

Kate’s voice came next, it was low, sultry, and coaxing like a velvet drag down her spine. “Open your eyes for me, baby,” she murmured, her breath hot against Yelena’s skin. “I want to see you fall apart. I want to watch it happen.”

The words hit Yelena like a spark to dry kindling, a fresh wave of heat rolling through her as her lashes fluttered open, eyes locking with Kate’s like she couldn’t look anywhere else.

“Good girl,” Kate purred, her voice a rich, honeyed drawl.

Yelena’s body betrayed her instantly, her cunt clenched onto Kate’s fingers, her hips twitching, breath stuttering, her fingers tightening in Kate’s hair.

Kate noticed. Of course she noticed. Her grin turned downright sinful. “Ohhh,” she drawled, her tone dripping with delight. “You like that, huh? You like it when I praise you, pretty girl?”

Yelena huffed, rolling her eyes in a half-hearted attempt to seem unaffected, but it was hopeless. Kates fingers were pumping inside her, curling at just the right spot, and whenever she wasnt speaking, her tongue was attached to her clit. 

Every shift, every movement sent Yelena’s body twisting and arching, betraying her with each desperate motion. Kate’s soft chuckle vibrated against her skin, only making things worse. And what made it even harder for Yelena to deny was the heat, the flush that spread from her chest to her cheeks, a deep, vivid red that smouldered under Kate’s gaze.

Kate raised an eyebrow, a quiet, knowing challenge in her expression. It was all it took. Yelena gave in. She nodded, small and embarrassed, but there was no hiding the way her body still trembled, the way her lips parted in silent surrender.

Kate chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through the air like a promise of more to come. Her lips brushed the inside of Yelena’s thigh, sending a shiver through her body. “Yeah… that’s what I thought,” Kate purred, her voice low and teasing, before she doubled her efforts.

Yelena’s breath hitched, and her hands clenched the sheets beneath her, her fingers digging into the fabric in an attempt to ground herself. Every inch of her skin burned, every nerve ending alive with sensation. She couldn’t stop the moans and whines pouring out of her mouth, the screams of ecstasy. 

At one point, all that could be heard was a chant of “uh, uh, uh,” Yelena couldn’t seem to catch her breath, couldn’t focus on anything but Kate, the way she moved, the way she made her feel like she was unravelling, thread by thread. 

Kate’s attention was unrelenting, each movement deliberate, bringing Yelena to the edge, and then pulling her back. And Kate loved it. Loved the power she held, loved how Yelena’s body responded like a beautiful, fragile thing, desperate for release.

“Please, Kate,” Yelena breathed, her voice shaky with a mix of need and frustration. The overwhelming sensation inside her made it hard to think clearly, but the ache was undeniable, her body demanding release.

Kate’s eyes softened as she watched Yelena, noticing the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. “Please, what?” she asked, her voice gentle but teasing, coaxing her without pressure.

Yelena shut her eyes briefly, trying to push the overwhelming emotions away, but it was no use. She wasn’t entirely sure what she needed to feel complete, or how to get there, but she knew she was in safe hands with Kate. “I just…I wanna cum, Kate. Please. Please!” she whined.

Kate’s lips curled into a knowing smile as she shifted slightly, but still continuing her assault on Yelena’s cunt with her fingers, her voice was light. “Look at you, so reluctant to beg earlier, and now look. What happened to turning the tables, hmm?” she teased, but her tone was softer now. 

Yelena didn’t have the strength to argue, her body aching with a need she couldn’t express. She felt vulnerable, her breath hitching as she spoke again, quieter this time. “I can’t… I just need… please,” she whispered, the words a quiet plea that broke through the walls she’d built up.

Kate kept up her pace with her fingers, using her thumb to apply the right amount of pressure to Yelena’s clit in place of her mouth as she instead placed kisses all over Yelena’s chest and neck. She knew Yelena was close, she could feel it, and she would make damn sure that Yelena fell over that edge. 

“You’re doing so well for me, Lena. So, so well,” Kate whispered, her voice thick with pride and affection as she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Just a little more, baby.” 

Yelena nodded, the motion small but desperate, her eyes locked onto Kate’s with a silent plea that said everything her voice couldn’t. There was a raw intensity in her gaze, wide, glassy, full of longing, like she was holding on by a thread and trusting Kate to catch her. 

Instead of pleading, instead of making noise like she had previously, Yelena went quiet. Every breath she took shuddered through her, her body drawn tight like a bowstring, trembling as she edged closer and closer to the precipice.

Kate's expression softened, reverent and awed all at once. She brushed a hand across Yelena’s cheek, her thumb tracing lightly along her jaw. “I’ve got you,” she murmured again, steady and certain. “Just let go. I’m right here.”

Yelena’s fingers clutched at the sheets, at Kate, anything she could find to ground herself in that moment. Her heart was pounding. Her skin felt like it was glowing, every nerve lit up and singing with sensation.

And when Yelena finally tipped over the edge, the silence ended, her cry was loud, it was raw, vibrating through the loft like something that had never been given space before now. Something Kate had pulled from her with nothing but gentleness and fire.

Kate felt a wave of quiet satisfaction wash over her as she watched the serenity settle over Yelena’s face, the tension in her body slowly giving way to something softer, calmer. There was a kind of wonder in the way her features relaxed, eyes half-lidded and lips parted with the ghost of a breathless smile. 

Kate slowed instinctively, giving Yelena time to ride the climax she had just experienced, not wanting to rush a single second of it, just soaking in the sight of someone she adored looking so at peace, so safe.

But then Yelena let out a faint, breathy whine and gave her a gentle push, not forceful, just a nudge, a signal, her body speaking for her when her mouth clearly could not. 

Kate’s smile softened into something tender the moment she felt Yelena’s gentle nudge. There was no hesitation, no teasing left, just quiet understanding. She moved slowly, carefully, as if handling something fragile, pulling out and easing back with deliberate grace to give Yelena space to breathe. Then she leaned in and pressed the lightest kiss to Yelena’s cheek, her lips lingering there just a moment longer than necessary.

She gathered Yelena into her arms like she was something rare, something irreplaceable. Kate’s arms circled her gently but securely, holding her close in that space between passion and peace, where only comfort remained.

Yelena curled in tighter without a word, seeking warmth and safety in Kate’s embrace. One arm snaked tightly around Kate’s waist, the other sliding under her, anchoring them together. Their legs tangled naturally beneath the blankets, like they’d always belonged that way.

Yelena’s breathing was still uneven, her chest rising and falling as her heart gradually settled. Her lashes were damp, her eyes glassy, the storm inside her quieting but not quite gone. And yet, somewhere in the haze, she managed a small, breathless laugh, almost disbelieving. “I hate you a little bit,” she whispered, voice hoarse and teasing, though there was no heat behind it.

Kate grinned against her skin, smug in the gentlest way, her mouth brushing over Yelena’s temple before pressing a kiss just beside her eyebrow. The kiss was full of fondness, warmth, and a quiet pride, like she already knew the truth. “No, you don’t,” she whispered, her breath soft against Yelena’s skin.

Yelena sighed through her smile, her body still tucked close, utterly relaxed in Kate’s arms. “...Yeah. No, I don’t.” The words came easier now, her voice laced with affection, and she no longer felt the need to hide. And then, just like that, her expression shifted, her smirk returning with full force as her eyes darkened with something playful and deliberate.

“Now it’s my turn,” she said, and before Kate could react, Yelena slipped from her hold and rolled on top of her in one smooth motion, straddling her with ease.

Kate let out a surprised laugh, half startled, half delighted. Her hands instinctively found Yelena’s hips, holding her there like she never wanted to let go. “I’m not going to say no,” she breathed, eyes wide and completely captivated. 

-----

They spent the rest of the night in a tangle of sheets, laughter, moans and soft gasps, taking turns exploring and exchanging every bit of pent-up tension that had built between them. There was no rush, no expectations. Just hands and lips and whispered words, shared breath and flushed skin, tangled limbs and slow-burning smiles. 

By the time they collapsed into the pillows, limbs heavy and tangled, Yelena was barely conscious, a soft, sleepy smile tugging at her lips as she blinked up at the ceiling. Her body was boneless, spent, and thoroughly satisfied. She expected to fall asleep right there, curled into the sheets, too exhausted to move.

But Kate wasn’t done. Kate slowly untangled herself, rising onto one elbow. She didn’t say anything at first, just studied Yelena’s face with a softness in her eyes that made Yelena's stomach flip. Then she leaned in, brushed a kiss to her temple, and quietly said, “Need to get cleaned up, beautiful.”

Yelena frowned, too tired to understand. “What?”

Kate didn’t answer with words. Instead, she carefully scooped her up, one arm under her knees, the other behind her shoulders, lifting her from the bed like it was nothing. Yelena made a startled sound, half-protest, half-laugh. “Kate, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Kate interrupted gently, adjusting her hold as she carried her across the room. Her voice was calm, sure, as if it wasn’t even a question. “Let me take care of you.”

That silenced Yelena completely. The bathroom light was soft and low, Kate nudged the door open with her foot and carefully lowered Yelena onto the edge of the tub while reaching for the taps. The bath was quick but comforting, warm water, gentle touches, Kate making sure every bit of her was taken care of without a single complaint. There was something quietly intimate about it, the way Kate wrapped her hair up into a messy bun to keep it dry, how she kissed the top of her head when she sank deeper into the water.

Later, wrapped in fresh towels and then swapped for oversized sleep shirts and soft pyjama bottoms, they found their way back to bed. Kate slipped in first and opened her arms without a word. Yelena didn’t hesitate. She crawled in close, curling up against her, head tucked under Kate’s chin. Kate’s arms came around her immediately, holding her close, like something too precious to let go. Yelena felt her body ache with that pleasant kind of exhaustion as she settled down.

Yelena lay in silence, her breathing slow and even but still not quite settled. Her cheek was pressed over Kate’s heart, the steady thrum of it grounding her in a way she didn’t have words for. Her fingers curled into the hem of Kate’s shirt, holding it like an anchor, tight, like she didn’t trust it to stay unless she kept it close. The cotton was warm against her skin, familiar and safe, and Kate’s arms around her didn’t loosen, not even a little. If anything, they tightened. Like a shield. Like a promise.

Kate held her like she was something fragile but not broken, like she wasn’t afraid of the sharp edges. And that was what stunned Yelena more than anything, not the night, not the vulnerability or the touches or the laughter, it was this. The quiet after. The weight of being held and knowing that someone wanted to. That someone chose to.

Her voice came out barely more than a whisper, hesitant and raw. “Kate?”

Kate didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t need to. Her hand moved slowly, brushing over Yelena’s spine, steady and reassuring. “Mm?”

There was a pause. Yelena swallowed hard. “…Why’d you do all that?”

Kate’s brows knit together, just slightly, her gaze drifting over the darkened ceiling as she let the question settle in her chest. It caught her off guard, not because she didn’t know the answer, but because it hadn’t even occurred to her to question it. 

Of course she’d done all that. Of course she’d carried Yelena to the bath, washed her hair, held her close. To her, it was instinct. Care shouldn’t have to be earned. Yelena mattered, was hers and of course she deserved softness after everything.

But the longer Kate sat with the question, the heavier it became. The implication behind it. The quiet disbelief in Yelena’s voice. That no one else had done this for her. That no one else had ever stayed after the storm passed and chosen to make her feel safe after. And that hurt, deep and low in Kate’s chest like something sharp had been pressed against her heart.

She shifted slowly, lowering her head with purpose, with care, and pressed a kiss to the crown of Yelena’s head. Gentle, reverent. Like a promise. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft but steady, full of unshaken certainty. Like she’d been carrying the words with her all night, waiting for the right moment to give them breath.

“Because you matter to me. Because I want you to be comfortable.” She let her fingers curl around Yelena’s side a little tighter, grounding both of them. “And because someone should have done this for you already. But clearly they didn’t. So I will.”

Yelena didn’t move, didn’t say anything at first. But something shifted in her, something deep and unfamiliar that she couldn’t name. She blinked fast, her throat suddenly tight, and then slowly, like her body made the decision before her mind caught up, she burrowed closer, hiding her face in the hollow of Kate’s chest. Her fingers gripped tighter in the fabric, and her other hand slipped around Kate’s waist, pulling her in like she was trying to crawl inside her skin.

“…You’re such a sap,” she mumbled, the words muffled but not unkind.

Kate grinned, her lips brushing her hairline. “Takes one to know one.”

They didn’t speak after that. They didn’t need to. Words would’ve only cluttered the quiet, and what passed between them now didn’t require sound. The silence wrapped around them like something sacred, thick with comfort, with trust, with the unspoken knowledge that for once, they didn’t have to keep their guards up. That they were safe, here, with each other.

Kate’s hand moved in lazy, gentle patterns across Yelena’s back, fingertips tracing soothing lines like she was trying to memorise her. And slowly, with every breath they shared, their bodies grew heavier, hearts syncing in rhythm until even the shadows in the room seemed to exhale. Sleep found them like that, curled into each other, peaceful, held.

-----

A/N: So, they’re back in New York! They’ve had some important conversations, Kate’s said "I love you" (and definitely noticed the significance of the neck thing), and most importantly….drumroll please….they’ve finally done the deed! Whoop whoop. The fire is officially burning. Anyway, in the next chapter, we’ve got a surprise visit from someone who meddles, leading to Kate seeing a side of Yelena that she’s tried to keep buried. It could either bring them closer or tear everything apart…but either way, it will be angsty, so strap in.