Chapter Text
The strategy zone on the top floor of the Watchtower was Alexei’s second-most-visited spot after missions. Next to the control panels, there was a burgundy, sofa with cool fabric and piles of cereal boxes. Here, he made up for the vision and ambition lost during twenty years of icy confinement.
At this moment, as usual, he wore his faded denim baseball cap (his beloved daughter claimed it helped him fit in better with New York life). Behind his tortoiseshell sunglasses, he watched Sentry—who everyone else called Bob—hard at work nearby, busily trying to organize scattered papers on the desk, clipping stacks together with paperclips.
Alexei was genuinely impressed by this guy—a big deal, considering he had lived through a golden age back in the Soviet days. Their first meeting? Alexei had paid for the fee to view Manhattan’s skyline from above with his cherished dagger.
Now, he stroked his chin, watching the brown-haired young man’s earnest and gentle face. His super-soldier gaze was intense enough to make Sentry blink, then lift his eyes to meet Alexei’s.
“Hey… uh, is there anything I can help with?”
He looked at the hunched young man, whose round eyes beneath curly hair reminded him of a Siberian brown bear—big and strong, yet somehow innocent.
Could this be why Yelena went on dates with him? An innocent brown bear? But Alexei leaned more toward thinking Sentry was the only one among them who could actually fly… but sadly that power wasn’t active right now. Clearing his throat, he said, “N-no, leave this to me. I’m an old hand—I’ve got this.”
A little concern shouldn’t earn an eye-roll from Yelena. Alexei added, “How have you been lately?”
He watched the innocent brown bear straighten up, a smile spreading across his face, lifting his cheeks along with it. “Very—actually, I mean, I’m good. I’ve been good lately. Alexei, thank you.”
“If she suddenly loses her temper—” Alexei gave advice like a regular dad sharing tips to avoid getting scolded: “Have you ever heard American Pie? If not, look it up online. Hum it for Yelena—she’ll jump in right before the chorus.”
Bob flailed helplessly beside the thick stack of papers, then, out of habit, scratched his back muscles. Shyly but excitedly, he said, “I’ve heard her hum it in the shower! Oh, I mean… I heard it from outside the door… I just happened to be there…”
Ding—
The elevator door cut off his awkward, helpless explanation. Bucky Barnes, expressionless, was carrying even more leather folders. He waved at Bob, then walked straight over to Alexei by the workstation. After setting down the load of files, he seemed to remember something and turned to call out to the pale-faced Siberian brown bear: “Yelena’s waiting for you on the first floor.”
“Okay! Thanks!” Bob nodded quickly and grabbing a folder in front of him. He wasn’t sure if he was thanking Bucky for relaying the message or for the unexpected rescue. “I’ll head down now.”
He didn’t dare look any of the super soldiers in the eye, especially Alexei. All he could do was rush to the elevator as fast as possible, trying to jab at the buttons without drawing too much attention.
#
The moment the lobby doors slid open, February’s cold bit straight through his heavy denim jacket. Having wasted over a decade in Florida and then drifted through Southeast Asia while on drugs, Bob still sometimes forgot just how brutal a New York winter could be.
On the corner, Yelena stood with a paper bag, her back to him. He shivered, hunching his shoulders and trying to tuck his whole head into this temporary wind shelter and quickened his pace to a jog toward her.
“Hi.”
Five steps away, Yelena had already turned and waved. Her pale-gold hair fell naturally over her black fuzzy coat. A mint-green ribbed sweater covered her collarbones, paired with dark wide-leg jeans, giving off a calm, relaxed vibe very different from her work outfits.
“Hi.”
Whether it was the merciless cold or the fact that she was wearing the outfit they’d picked together a couple of days ago, his brain went froze, and words tumbled out in a jumble: “Wow—you really pull it off, I mean this sweater, it looks really great on you.”
She glanced down at herself briefly, then looked up at him with a satisfied smile. “You look stunning, too.”
“Thanks—this fashion came at the cost of a frozen body.”
“Huh—seems like a worthwhile trade.” Yelena raised an eyebrow and made a quick judgment, then, almost magically, pulled a steaming off-white takeaway cup from the bag. “How about a little fashion bonus with a cup?”
“Th-that’s great, but I might need some help.” He gave a wry smile and held up his stiff fist between them. “I can’t open my hand by myself right now.”
Yelena laughed as she pried open his fingers one by one, mischievously shaking his hand. He gripped her hand—painted a soft pink—and she gently twisted it back, their fingers laced. Bob panicked and quickly withdrew, giving her an innocent look to signal surrender.
“So, Central Park this time?”
She handed him the hot latte, eyes flicking to the folder tucked under his left arm. Inside were some of his daily records and test notes. For the past month, Bob had been doing irregular experiments within the Watchtower’s safe zone to track the serum’s effects and his Sentinel abilities. Aside from technicians recording the sessions, he also kept his own notes.
At first, these “Bob’s notes” were uploaded to the O.X.E. system along with the files. But when Valentina realized they weren’t that useful, Mel switched the process—he would just hand the notes directly to the relevant people.
“That way it’s easier for me to read anytime, Robert—” That day, Mel had put her phone on speaker in the Watchtower. Under Valentina’s polite voice, Walker frowned, muttering about why they didn’t just cancel, only to get eye-rolls from Bucky and Ava in the sofa corner.
Bob nodded, unable to look away from those beautiful green-hazel eyes. “After we hand things over to Mr. Collins, can we take a walk in the park? Like in the movie—”
Last night, after polishing off a Double Cheese Double Pepperoni pizza, the group got completely sucked into Enchanted—a movie that’s somehow already twenty years old. Yelena found herself eyeing the heroine’s power to talk to animals with genuine envy. Before bed, she and Bob spent nearly half an hour dreaming up a scenario where, with that power, she’d open a vet clinic right there on one of the Watchtower floors—and he’d be her front desk assistant."
She tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. “So… is today work or a date?”
He cleared his throat, grinning awkwardly and looking down. “Working while dating.”
#
Under two rows of bare elm trees, Bob spotted Mr. Collins sitting neatly on a bench, his suit sharp and posture straight. Trying to look like the intelligence agent he pictured, he glanced left and right to make sure nothing was off, then handed over the documents. Behind round glasses, Collins maintained his professional composure, though a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes.
The handoff took less than two minutes. As Collins turned efficiently and walked away, Bob couldn’t resist running toward the stairs. The accordion music swelled around him as he passed under the arched colonnade, brushing past tourists photographing the European-style reliefs and ceiling frescoes. Cold wind whipped against him, but it couldn’t drown out the rapid thump of his heart.
He stopped in front of the fountain at the square. The basin was empty today; the angel statues lacked the shimmering reflections of water, standing quietly on the gray stone pedestal. He blinked, scanning the sparse crowd, preparing to skirt around the fountain and follow the small path to the right—when a magnetic voice behind him made his world pause for a second.
Turning around, he saw Yelena sitting casually on the stone steps by the archway, one leg crossed over the other, holding a half-eaten cinnamon roll.
He took a few steps closer, hands tucked into his denim jacket pockets for warmth, and finally settled on the step just below hers, sitting side by side with the paper bag at her feet.
“You found me.”
“Mhmm, this is a pretty good lookout spot.” Yelena propped her chin on her left hand, tilting her head to look at him, her green-hazel eyes wide and curious. “That back of yours when you were running just now… like a super soldier. Does everyone who gets the serum turn into Steve Rogers?”
Bob let out a soft laugh and reached into the paper bag, grabbing a random piece of bread. “For me, that’s a total compliment.”
“Hey! The blueberry one is mine!”
“Then how about the chocolate?”
“Hm—” she squinted as if thinking it over, then reluctantly gave in: “But save a bite for me.”
“Or do you want to take the first bite?”
“Nope.” Her gaze drifted past him to the cluster of small angel statues. “Giselle sings here?”
“She probably sings at every spot in the park.”
Yelena didn’t respond; instead, she licked the frosting from her lips and fingertips, then started humming That's How You Know in a low, casual tone. Bob couldn’t take his eyes off her—the way her head swayed gently, the faint flush on her cheeks from the cold. He heard his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, his palms sweating slightly, and he felt as if some soft, steady force were wrapping around him. Unable to resist, he started tapping a rhythm with his hands and singing along softly.
His heart will be yours forever
Something everyday will show
That's how you know he's your love
That's how she knows that you love her
In the strange, intoxicating stillness, she slowly closed her eyes and lowered her head, closing the small gap between them. He tilted his head up slightly, careful in the tiny, quiet space, and gently pressed his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes too, trying to match his breathing with hers.
“You know… we can use closeness to distract others,” Yelena murmured.
“Someone’s watching us?” He opened his eyes, met by the smile that had always made him feel safe.
She held his gaze for a few seconds, calm and in control. “Nope. But why not?”
#
If Yelena had to pick one good thing about Valentina, she’d have no hesitation in praising her generosity in spending.
Right now, Yelena was half-reclined on a beige L-shaped sofa, a heavy Carhartt denim jacket draped over the armrest, her feet brushing the fluffy orange carpet. By the entrance sat a woven shoe bench and a full-length mirror, while the storage wall overflowed with the shiny treasures of her recent shopping spree.
From the open bedroom door came the sound of a shower—water splashing, mixed with Bob humming softly, making up words whenever he forgot the lyrics. Inside a clear double-decker pet cage, the guinea pig she’d brought back from Malaysia sipped water while letting out strange but adorable squeaks.
Oh my God—Yelena looked around the space and felt an unexpected pang of awe. Have I… become a full, content, ordinary kind of hero?
Work with purpose, a steady paycheck with the occasional bonus, a high-rise suite in Manhattan with a view, a compatible teammate, and a well-behaved pet. With Alexei’s voice echoing across the floor and Bob—standing there in a black T-shirt, his hair wet and curly, looking so warm-hearted and harmless, blinking at her with that pitiful little look—it all made life feel… complete.
“Are you okay?” He roughly towel-dried his hair, dragging the slightly slightly-too-long pant legs behind him.
She stretched her legs out and rested them on Bob’s lap. Without missing a beat, he wrapped an arm around her.
“I bought a bottle of vodka last month. There’s still more than half left.”
“Is that progress… or a step back?”
“What if those aliens—or whatever, I’m not sure, like second-generation Thanos—decide to show up in New York again?”
He looked at her toes; the pale pink nail polish on her toe had a small chip. “Maybe a year or two ago? I met someone from Chiang Mai in Asok, and he said, ‘When people are relaxing, that’s actually when they’re under the most stress.’”
She laughed at Bob’s rough accent, trying to mimic it—and got a playful poke on the sole of her foot for her trouble.
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know… I wasn’t exactly lucid in Thailand.”
“And then?” “He tried to sell me a pack of very low-grade cannabis gummies.”
“Did you buy it?”
“I also bought a pair of red elephant pants.”
They both snickered at each other. As the laughter faded, Yelena pulled her feet back and smoothly shifted to sit in the hug Bob hadn’t yet released. His gray-blue eyes were wide, his mouth slightly upturned, and with a tone full of wonder he asked, “Do you think I could ever learn moves like this?”
She laughed out loud, then grabbed the towel off his shoulders and skillfully pulled off his black shirt. In that instant, she heard a rapid, adorable little snort escape his throat.
“Bob,” she said, deliberately wrapping her arms around his neck, “it’s in the drawer.”
Hearing that, his face flushed red. He hugged her back with one arm, awkwardly twisted his upper body, and with the other hand fumbled to open the drawer by the sofa. When he finally felt the target, he held up the small blue foil packet like a victorious climber, and cheered. Less than a moment later, he realized his victory pose looked weird, gave a few embarrassed chuckles, but his anxious gray-blue eyes were full of undeniable determination and sincerity.
Oh my God—she shifted, nipping at the soft flesh of his pouting chin. Amid their ragged breaths and rising heat, she thought: Whatever—right now, I’m just a fulfilled, happy, ordinary hero.
END.
*I’m a huge fan of the movie Enchanted.