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"Another job well done," Kate smiles, adjusting her aviators.
"We hardly did anything," America says.
"And nothing was damaged."
"Well said," Tommy nods.
"Don't be so negative," Kate teases, slinging an arm around America's shoulders. America crosses her arms, trying to shrug Kate off. Kate feels embarrassed for a moment, until she sees the small smile playing at America's lips.
Eventually she lets go, turning back to the group like nothing had happened, but she feels like a giddy little kid in a candy store.
"What can I do to make it better?" Kate smirks. America smirks back and Kate realizes she's made a mistake.
"Donuts?" She offers, and Kate exhales in relief.
"Yeah. I can do that."
"For all of us, right?" Tommy asks.
"Yes," America answers.
Kate glares at her, but she can't help but smile. "I'm not made of money."
"Your dad's filthy rich," America explains. "You can afford a few donuts."
"It's not 'a few'," Kate scoffs. "You guys eat like it's the end of the world. It'll be two dozen."
"If it was the end of the world, what would you guys do?" Kate asks, taking a bite of jelly donut, coating the tip of her nose in sugar.
"Get laid," Tommy says, crossing his arms behind his head and reclining back on Clint's couch. Clint wasn't home. Yet.
"Thanks," David rolls his eyes.
"I'm kidding," Tommy whines, throwing himself onto David. "You know that. But..." he flops back against the couch, "if it were just me, I'd probably go to Disney. Cut the line for the teacups."
"The teacups?" Billy snorts.
"Yeah. And what would you do? Let me guess- marry Teddy."
Billy blushes, avoiding eye contact with Teddy, who leans away from Billy, laughing awkwardly.
"That's cute," Kate offers, giggling. America's wearing her cocky little grin, and for a second, Kate wonders if she might be a bit sadistic.
"I'm right though, right?" Tommy asks.
"Yes," Billy mutters. He looks like he's going to cry from embarrassment. Teddy kisses him on the cheek.
"I'd marry you too. But I wouldn't have to wait for the end of the world," he smiles, and Kate didn't know people could turn as red as Billy is.
Tommy makes a gagging noise, and Teddy throws the rest of his donut at him. Tommy catches it, throws it in his mouth, and settles back down, looking all to smug. "You guys are so sweet it hurts."
"You've eaten six donuts," America says, "and that's too sweet?" Tommy shrugs.
"Yeah whatever," he scoffs, grabbing yet another donut. "It's fast metabolism or whatever. What about you, David? You have a better answer?"
David shrugs. "I don't know. I think I'd just do whatever I felt like doing."
"Boring. America?"
"Probably jump to a world that wasn't about to end," she says.
"Would you take me with you?" Kate asks, frowning. America smirks. "Us I mean-"
"If you wanted to," America says, grabbing her first donut. Kate was mildly annoyed that she had been the one that wanted them, and the only one who hadn't had one yet. "What about you?"
Kate thinks about it for a second, not sure what to answer.
"Shoot," she settles on.
"Are you sure?" America teases. She reaches over to Kate and swipes her thumb across her nose.
Kate blinks. "W-what?"
"You had sugar on your nose," she smirks. It's like she knows what she's doing to her.
"Oh."
She scratches the back of her neck, looking away from America. She suddenly realizes how close she's sitting to America, and how much heat America is emitting. She wonders if it's as much as her face is giving off.
"And yeah- I'd shoot my bow. Go out doing the thing I love. I mean unless I go with America."
Before America can say anything snarky, the door clicks open.
"Ah, hell-"
"Hi Clint," Kate chimes in.
"What are you guys doing in my apartment?" He asks, closing the door behind him.
"Bonding," Tommy says.
"Let me rephrase that," Clint says, tossing his keys onto the counter, "why are you in my apartment?"
"Why not?" Tommy retorts. He's hanging all over David, completely unfamiliar with the term 'personal space'. It was normal with David- he was his boyfriend (or at least that's what Kate could gather). But the other half of him was thrown over Teddy, who looked uncharacteristically annoyed.
"Kate?" Clint comes over to the coffee table, taking a donut.
"Hey," she frowns. "Those are ours."
"My apartment."
She glares at him. Clint smirks, rolls his eyes, and ruffles her hair on his way to the kitchen. He seems to have given up on asking why they were there, as Kate knew he would. He's too tired to care much, and it's not like they're trashing the place. Kate always cleans up after everyone else leaves.
"Do you want us to go?" Kate asks, because she's nice.
"Please."
She giggles, standing from his couch.
"You heard the man," she says. "Time to go."
Teddy and Billy, like the sweethearts they are, get up and leave together, hand-in-hand. David drags Tommy out.
Kate starts to pick up the empty boxes before she realizes that America is still sitting on the couch, arm thrown over the back. She looks at her, then to Clint, who's still in the kitchen. She blinks, then sets her eyes back on the powdered sugar covered coffee table.
America watches her for a while, and Kate's not really sure what to say.
"Wanna help?" She finally smirks, throwing an empty box to her. She catches it, smirking back.
"Princess."
Kate scoffs, bending down to sweep the sugar off of the table. She giggles, looking up at America.
"I don't still have this stuff on my face, do I?" She asks. She's not sure why she asks. Truthfully, she doesn't care if she does. Maybe she's desperate for conversation, or maybe she just wants America to look at her.
America hums, crouching down in front of her. She tilts her head, eyes scanning Kate's face. She looks at Kate's lips, and for a second, Kate looks at hers. She swallows hard, then looks back to America's eyes.
"Here," America smiles, reaching out to Kate. She runs her thumb across the corner of Kate's lip, the rest of her hand resting against Kate's neck. Kate prays she can't feel the change in her pulse with her hand so close to her jugular, or the hard swallow she forces herself to take.
She pulls back, then goes back to cleaning the table off. Clint clears his throat in the kitchen, and Kate swallows hard again, pretending she can't hear him, or see his stupid grin in the corner of her eye.
Kate licks her lips, not tasting any sugar.
"Was there even anything there, or are you just flirting?" She snorts, raising an eyebrow. She prays she's coming across as joking. America winks, but doesn't respond.
"So what was that about?" Clint asks, elbow on the counter and chin in hand like a child.
"What was what about?" Kate asks coyly.
"That whole thing with Miss America."
"America," Kate corrects, like it's a world of difference. "We were just joking around."
"I've never seen you look at anyone like that before," Clint says.
"Like what?" Kate continues to play dumb.
"With lust," Clint jokes.
"Ew," Kate cringes, but she's not discounting it entirely. "She's my friend."
"Hmm."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, staring at her. She huffs, running a hand through her hair as she turns away from him. It'll be easier to think without having him probing her with his eyes.
"Stop looking at me," she groans. "It's like you're undressing me with your eyes."
"What- Kate-" Clint sputters.
"Sorry," she turns, crossing her arms, "did that make you uncomfortable? Guess that makes two of us."
Clint sighs, pushing away from the counter.
"I'm just trying to be nice."
"Why?" She raises an eyebrow, even though she feels bad for being a dick.
"Get out of my apartment, then."
Kate grabs his arm as he walks past her. "Wait-"
He jumps, but doesn't move away from her. He looks down at her, eyes tired.
"Just- why? I mean that genuinely. Are you trying to be here for me, or are you trying to pry?" She looks at him, eyes equally as tired. Her heart is pounding in her chest, the idea of talking about this new territory for the first time was startling. "Because I- it's not just some fling. Or at least, I don't think so. I don't know." She lets go of his arm, breaking eye contact as she swallows hard. She walks to sit on the couch, burying her head in her hands.
She can feel the couch dip as Clint sits next to her. His hand rests on her back, as some kind of attempt at sympathy, Kate thinks. For a moment she remembers having feelings for him, and she wishes she could go back to it. Liking him was so much simpler. Just a small, school-girl crush that never tried to grow into anything more.
"I don't know why I'm so unnerved by this," she huffs, shaking her head in her hands.
"You're probably just overthinking it," Clint sighs, rubbing his hand over her spine. "When's the last time you've had a friend like that?"
"I'm not. And stop that your hands are all scratchy-" Kate snickers. She's wearing a pretty small top; the entirety of her bruised arms out in the cold, air-conditioned apartment, and the top half of her back is starting to get goosebumps now that she's pushed Clint's hand away. She sighs and leans back into Clint. "That's what scares me. I've never felt like this for a friend."
Clint hums, staring off into the distance. "Well, you could pursue it."
"But I've made all this fuss about not being gay," Kate explains, sinking deeper into Clint's side. "And I don't know if I'm even her type. And then there's Ramone-" She's listing each reason on her fingers, like that'll help convince her what a bad idea going after America is.
"Ramone?"
"Her girlfriend."
"She was acting like that with you and she has a girlfriend? Something about that doesn't seem very- American." He chuckles at his own joke and Kate rolls her eyes.
"I don't know. Maybe they broke up. She hasn't said anything in a while. But America doesn't really talk about her personal life."
Kate sighs, closing her eyes.
"I'm gonna have to investigate."
"How's Ramone?" Kate asks, trying to change the subject. America's been too quiet, presumably from guilt. She had been the cause of several bruises and gashes over Kate's body. She was being controlled by some kind of chemical agent, but she still couldn't face Kate.
Kate takes a sip from her tea, staring at America from across the couch. She looks back, face blank.
"I'm more worried about you."
Kate smiles sweetly, feeling warm from America's concern mixed with her hot tea and soft robe. "I already told you, I'm fine. Really. It's okay."
"No it isn't," America sighs, tucking her legs up in front of her. She won't look Kate in the eyes, instead staring at the gash on her knee she had caused. Kate notices, adjusting her robe to better cover her herself up, as if sparing America from seeing the damage she'd caused. "I could've killed you."
"It's not your fault," Kate assures her, putting her tea down on the coffee table. "And you didn't." She crawls over to America's side of the couch, kneeling in front of her. She rests her elbows on America's knees, trying to meet her eyes.
America's too stubborn.
"Really, it's not a big deal."
"It is," America says weakly.
Kate sighs, sinking her arms down to hug America's legs. She closes her eyes.
"I forgive you," she mumbles, "even if you don't forgive yourself."
America stands suddenly, leaving Kate wide-eyed and struggling for words. "America-"
"I should go," she interrupts.
"Oh," Kate frowns, disappointed. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," America nods, but she still hasn't looked at Kate. "I have to go see Ramone."
Kate tries not to frown any more than she already is, but her throat constricts and for a second, she feels like she's going to cry.
She swallows thickly. "Yeah. I'll see you, I guess."
She's been staring at America, who still won't face her. She wants to say something, wants to ask her to stay with her, but America clearly wants to leave. It's tense enough as it is.
"Yeah," she responds, opening the door.
She looks at Kate, finally, just for a second, as she hovers in the doorframe.
"I'll see you," she says. She pauses for a second, as if milling over what she wants to say. Kate holds her breath as she waits.
She leaves without another word.
"She's still seeing Ramone," Kate mumbles, crumpled up on Clint's bed. "Is it bad that I'm jealous?"
Clint shrugs, rummaging through his closet.
"You're not helpful," she sighs.
"And you've been sulking around my apartment all morning."
Kate groans, rolling over and wrapping herself up in the comforter.
"You're messing up my bed."
"Oh please," Kate snorts, "it wasn't neat to begin with."
Clint throws a shoe over his shoulder, hitting her square in the forehead. She curses, unwinding herself from the sheet.
"So?" Kate asks. "What do I do?"
"You're young," Clint shrugs, picking up the shoe he'd thrown. "They'll probably break up."
"That's kind of fucked up," she says. "Waiting for them to break up so I can steal her away?"
Clint shrugs again. "You said it, not me."
Kate blinks.
"Why am I asking you?" She thinks out loud. "Your romantic endeavors are horrendous."
"I wouldn't call them 'romantic'. More like-"
"Pathetic?"
"Fleeting." He closes his closet door and leaves his room. Kate hops up and trails him out into the living room.
"What about Nat?"
"What about her?" Clint sighs, continuing into the kitchen. He picks up the coffee pot, swirling around the remaining cold liquid around before taking a large gulp. Kate cringes.
"You guys have had a thing for a while," Kate explains. She sits on the couch, calling out for Lucky. He pads over to her, tail wagging expectantly.
"It's off and on," Clint says. "Like I said, fleeting."
"You've been on a good run, though, haven't you?"
"I guess. If you count three months as a good run."
"Yeah," Kate says, "for us? I do."
She sighs, sinking into the couch. She pats her stomach, letting Lucky jump up and lay across her.
"You know I don't want him on the couch," Clint says.
"He's a good boy," Kate frowns over her shoulder. Between her big blue puppy dog eyes and the happy panting Lucky is doing, he can't be mad. He rolls his eyes.
"Anyways," Kate says. "Dating her wouldn't be a good idea. We're both stubborn. Always in dangerous situations. And if we broke up it would mess with the team's dynamic."
"I'm not sure why you're telling me this," Clint says. "Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."
"I am."
"Is it working?"
"No."
"I'm coming!" Kate shouts, walking at a snail's pace to the door. She opens the door, her face softening when she sees who's behind it. "Ramone."
Sure she's America's girlfriend, but she's Kate's friend too. Kate cares about her. And Ramone looks upset- her eyes are tired and red.
She lets Ramone into the apartment, sitting next to her on the couch. "What happened?"
"We um- we broke up," Ramone says meekly.
Kate's eyes widen, and she feels like a massive dick for feeling a little giddy at the news. "Why? When?"
"Last night," she mumbles. "And she never said."
"Oh my God- Ramone, I'm so sorry." Kate can't look her in the eye. She feels too guilty. She can't help but feel like she was the cause of this.
"It's not your fault," Ramone laughs bitterly, and Kate's stomach twists.
"I'm sorry," she says again, at a loss for words.
Ramone bites her nails, wanting to say something to Kate. Wanting to ask Kate something. She knows, Kate thinks.
"What?" She asks.
"Are you okay?" Ramone looks at her, eyebrows furrowed.
Kate tilts her head, surprised. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"America told me about what happened yesterday. With the," she makes a punching gesture. Kate nods. "She was worried about you, I think. It's always hard to tell with her."
"I'm fine," Kate assures her. "America's just stressed about the whole thing. That's probably why you guys broke up. It's probably just temporary." She hears her words, immediately knowing all of them are complete bullshit.
Ramone shakes her head. "I think we both know that's not why."
She looks at Kate with knowing eyes.
"What?"
"It's clear you feel something for her," Ramone says. "And I think she feels something for you, too."
"That's not fair," Kate shakes her head, voice soft. "She's unreadable."
Ramone chuckles.
"Maybe you just haven't learned to read her yet."
Kate snorts, crossing her arms. "No. She's unreadable."
"That's not true," Ramone sighs, "and you know it."
Kate swallows hard.
"I just don't want to ruin our friendship. Like if she doesn't actually like me... like that." She hesitates, unsure about confessing these feelings for the first time, to America's ex-girlfriend nonetheless. "And I don't- I don't know if I really feel that way for her."
"You don't know, or you don't want to?" Ramone asks.
Kate takes a shaky breath, covering her face with her hands.
"Don't worry about me," Ramone says. "I came to you to tell you that it's okay. You can have feelings for each other." She puts a hand on Kate's leg, trying to get her to look up. Kate just shakes her head.
"You guys were so good-"
"I knew it was never going to work out," Ramone interrupts, and Kate looks up at her. She offers a soft smile, reaching for Kate's hand. Kate lets her take it, eyes wide and full of concern. "I was counting on it. It was only a matter of time before you guys realized it. I think America knew long before you did."
"I'm sorry," Kate says, suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. She takes her hand back from Ramone, burying her head in her hands, as if not being able to see Ramone would make her disappear.
"Don't be," Ramone says gently. "I was ready for this."
"Then why were you so upset?"
"I still love her," Ramone says, and Kate tenses up, hands scrunching up her hair. "And it's something that still hits hard. Being dumped, I mean."
Kate tries to speak, but only emits a high-pitched, cracked whimper. "Sorry."
She feels the couch shift, and then Ramone's arms are around her, and for some reason, it just makes Kate feel worse.
Kate hasn't made some kind of shitty quip or joke the whole mission, even when Tommy fell three stories into a Chevrolet. Not even a giggle. The team is tense, and they all know it. Any attempt to lighten up is completely ineffective.
America is the most concerned about it; she'd been watching Kate the whole time, and she hadn't seen her smile once.
Kate wipes the blood from under her nose, spitting more onto the ground. She tucks her bow away and heads over to the rest of the team. For a moment she thinks about going in the other direction, going home without checking in with them.
"Everything's settled," America says, knowing Kate wasn't in the mood to lead.
"Are we meeting at Kate's again?" Noh-Varr asks, seemingly unable to read the group.
"No," Kate mumbles. "Not today."
"Everything okay?" Teddy asks. She looks at him, almost in shock.
"Mhm."
She avoids the groups' eyes for a second, then gives a weak thumbs up and turns to walk home.
She gets about a block away before she sees America in her peripherals, hovering alongside her as she trudged home. Kate doesn't want to be the first to talk, but she also doesn't want America to ask her what's bothering her.
"Hey," America says, landing beside Kate, smoothly transitioning into a walk.
"Hey."
"Everything okay-"
"I don't really want to think about it right now," Kate mutters.
"Kate, I really am sorry about the other day."
She sounds desperate, Kate thinks, trying to work her way closer to Kate. Kate wants to let her in, but she's still so confused about the situation. "It's fine. I told you, it's not a big deal." She offers America a soft smile, hoping it hides the ache in her eyes.
"It's not about that."
They walk in silence until they get to Kate's apartment building. America follows her in.
Kate swallows hard as she gets onto the elevator, leaning against the wall. America does the same, less aggressive, and crosses her arms over her chest.
They're only in there for thirty seconds, but it feels like hours. It's silent, save for the bell as the elevator hits each floor. 1.
Kate holds her breath, trying not to breathe too deeply, trying not to cry. Her head hurts, and she's fairly certain it's not from the punch she took earlier. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see America's foot tapping against the tile flooring. There's dried blood in the grout, and Kate's certain it's either hers or Clint's. Maybe they should clean that. 2.
Kate's stomach is in knots. Maybe she should just send America home. She can make up some kind of excuse. 3.
Does she really want her to leave? Wouldn't it be nicer to get everything out of her head? It might be good to clear the air. But what if she's not reading the situation right? What if America doesn't see her the way Ramone thinks she does? The way Kate wants her to? 4.
America's so close. Kate wants to close the gap. She wants to widen it. She wants the elevator to stop- to force them to talk out the tension between them. She wants the elevator to open- the sooner she gets away from America, the better. 5.
The doors open, and Kate hesitates for a moment. She looks at America, who meets her eyes. Kate swallows hard, turning back to the hallway in front of her.
She opens the door, handing it to America as she walks in. She puts her stuff down, heading straight for the bathroom.
She leans over the counter, inspecting her split lip. America leans into the door frame.
"Why are you following me?" Kate asks weakly. She grabs a washcloth and runs it under warm water.
America doesn't answer, entering the bathroom and taking the cloth from Kate. Kate's throat tightens as she watches America reach up to her face. She fights the urge to yank her head away, letting America hook a finger under her chin. They meet eyes as America dabs at Kate's lip.
The breath hitches in Kate's throat, and she grips the counter behind her tightly. America swallows hard, eyes darting from Kate's eyes to where she was cleaning her lip.
When she's done, she pulls gently at Kate's bottom lip with her thumb, and Kate's stomach flips. She thinks they're going to kiss for a second, but then the moment is over as America leaves the bathroom.
"Take a shower," she says.
Kate's heart is pounding, and she feels like crying. And why shouldn't she? She closes the bathroom door, turns the water on, and starts to cry, praying the water was loud enough to cover her small sobs.
She's never wanted to be kissed so badly. She's never ached for someone's touch the way she aches for America's. Her lip tingles where America had touched her, and her skin feels like it's on fire as she peels off her uniform.
She's scrubbing at her skin, opening old scabs and cuts, irritating her collections of bruises. She's trying desperately to soothe herself, the water cold enough to make her toes go numb.
She comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, not expecting America to still be there. She gasps when she sees her sitting on the couch, immediately stopping the flow of quiet tears.
"Sorry," she says, tugging the towel tighter around her. She's shivering.
"Are you okay? You look sick."
"Thanks," Kate tries to joke. She turns and heads to her room, jaw clenched painfully.
She puts on her pajamas even though it's not even noon yet.
She's shivering so hard it hurts, and she grabs a blanket to wrap around herself as she pads to the living room. America's soft look of concern draws a whimper out of Kate, who stops in her tracks, feet from the couch and America.
"Hey," America raises an eyebrow. She places a hand on Kate's shoulder, only for Kate to ram into her, arms wrapped around her and face pressed into her shoulder. She takes a shaky breath, gripping at America like her life depended on it. "Kate-"
"Can you stay today? We can watch a movie or something."
America hugs Kate back, raking her fingers through her wet hair. "Yeah."
"Is this- is this okay? I'm freezing and you're just so warm," Kate sighs, closing her eyes.
"Yeah," America says again.
Kate's about to ask another question, already cringing at how needy she was about to sound, but America picks her up and carries her to the couch. She settles onto her back, Kate resting on top of her. She pulls Kate closer to her, even though she's shaking almost violently. Kate snuggles up to her, focusing on the warmth she's emitting, and not how hollow she feels.
Kate reaches for the remote for the television, turning on some medical drama to watch. She's not very focused on it, too busy thinking and feeling. But it cuts the awkward silence- at least for a little while.
But then America speaks.
"Hey."
It's nothing profound. It hardly even catches Kate's attention.
Kate hums in response.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Kate swallows hard.
"Not really."
America doesn't push any deeper.
Great.
She wakes up in a bed that's not hers, and a fully functioning memory. She knows what she did, and she knows why she did it. But now it all felt so stupid.
"Noh?"
"Yeah?"
She's turned away from him, but she can see him move over, trying to look her in the eye. He kisses Kate's shoulder, then runs his hand down her arm, and Kate nearly jumps out of bed right then and there.
"I can't keep doing this," she mutters. His hand leaves her arm.
"What do you mean?" He asks. She can see his frown in her peripherals. Exhaling, she pulls herself from under the covers and grabs her clothes.
"It's not fair to you," she continues, pulling her shirt over her head.
"What do you mean, Kate?"
"I think I'm in l- I think I have feelings for someone else," she says weakly. She zips up her jeans and walks back to the bed, sitting with her back turned to him. The bed moves beneath her as he swivels his legs to sit beside her.
The silence is awful. Every second that goes by builds her panic and confusion.
"Okay," he finally says. She looks at him. His eyes are sad, but he's trying to offer her a genuine smile. "That's okay."
"I'm sorry," she sniffs, putting her head in her hands. "It's really not fair to you."
"Hey," he says softly, touching her hand. "We both knew this was never a serious thing." Kate's not sure if she should be offended, but she agrees with him. "This was never going to be more than just a physical relationship. Even if I wanted it to be-"
"Please don't-" her voice wavers. "I can't take the guilt right now."
"I'm sorry."
"I wish I could tell you," she mumbles. "I feel like it would make things easier. But I think I'm just being stupid. Maybe it's just a temporary feeling."
"For who?" He asks.
"I really don't know if I have feelings for her. I mean she could just be my closest friend, and I've never felt friendship at that level before-"
"Are you talking about America?"
Kate nods.
Noh-Varr chuckles, standing up from the bed. He walks over to the window, looking out over the city.
"What's so funny?" She asks, frowning.
"Nothing," he sighs. "I'm happy for you, really." He turns to face her. "I think it'd be good for you."
"I never said I was going to pursue it."
"Why not?"
Kate huffs and leans back, flopping onto her back. "I don't want to ruin our friendship. She's my best friend."
"Maybe she feels the same?" Noh-Varr offers.
"That's not it," Kate says. "Even if she did feel the same, it wouldn't be a good idea. Because I don't- I'm not sure I'm- I don't know."
"You have to trust yourself, Kate," Noh-Varr says, pulling her up by the hands. She groans, but stands up begrudgingly. He lets go of her and heads out of his room into the kitchen. She follows him, practically dragging her feet.
"But I don't," Kate mumbles. "That's the problem."
Noh-Varr squints for a second, as if thinking.
"Well I guess you'll just have to try it."
"I'm not using her like that," Kate says, sitting at the kitchen counter. "If she has feelings for me and I'm just trying to figure out if I'm actually- you know-" she widens her eyes. "It's not fair to-"
"First of all," Noh-Varr interrupts, "why are you afraid to say it?"
"Say what?"
"That you're gay. Or lesbian. Even bisexual."
"Because I'm not sure!" Kate cries, slouching onto his counter. He hands her a cup of coffee. She picks it up and takes a sip.
"Let me put it this way," she says. "I've never had a friend like America. If what I'm feeling for her isn't romantic and we start dating or whatever, things will get messed up. So maybe I'm just really close to her."
"Counter point," Noh-Varr smirks, leaning back against the counter, "do you want to have sex with your close friends?"
Kate breathes in suddenly, inhaling a mouthful hot coffee. She swallows it before she chokes, and her throat burns.
She clears her throat. "I never said that."
"But do you want to?"
She puts the mug down, putting her chin in her hand. "I don't know."
"I think you do," Noh-Varr says, furrowing his eyebrows. Kate's heart skips a beat, and she thinks for a moment that Noh-Varr could be right. Actually, she's pretty sure he is right.
She sighs.
"I still don't want to tell her."
"Can we talk?"
Kate's face heats up and she's glad America can't see it.
"About?"
"You've been off lately," America says. Her voice gets louder as she gets closer to Kate, and Kate's certain her heartbeat is nearly as loud.
"I told you I don't want to talk about it," she mumbles. "And besides, I've already got it worked out."
"Have you?"
"Look," she sighs, finally facing America. She sits atop the coffee table she cleared. America sits across from her on the couch, and Kate suddenly feels like divulging everything, confessing and crying and kissing and touching- no. She ignores that part of her brain; the irrational part. Or maybe it was the rational part. Not that she cared at the moment. "I'm not ready to talk about it yet. And I don't think I ever will be."
"Is this about something I did?" America asks.
"Um," Kate considers. "It's complicated."
America stands from the couch, then ruffles Kate's hair.
"If you needed space you could have just told me, dumbass." She turns to leave, but Kate grabs her hand. America's surprised by it. Kate is too. She's not sure what her plan is.
"It's not that," she says meekly. She pulls America towards her.
America tilts her head.
"You're confusing me, Katie." And you're confusing me.
She lets go of America's hand. She looks her in the eye, standing up in front of America.
Kate's breath hitches when she realizes how close they are. And how concerned America looks. And hoe beautiful she is.
"I-" she starts, voice shaking. "I don't know what I'm doing."
America doesn't respond. She just looks her in the eye. Kate thinks there's a moment her eyes flicker downward, but she doesn't entertain the thought.
That only lasts five seconds.
Kate starts to close the space between them, face moving closer to America's. America doesn't move, but her face relaxes and her breathing slows.
They're just inches away. Kate can't make herself close the gap, practically shaking in indecision. She wants it. She shouldn't want it.
"Kate."
Kate meets her eyes. America's head is slightly tilted, trying to figure out what was going on.
"Yeah?"
"What are you doing?" She asks.
Kate's lip quivers, and she pulls away, embarrassed. Her face is red- there's no way America can't see it.
"I don't- I'm sorry," she squeaks, trying not to cry.
"Kate-"
Kate's phone vibrates in her pocket, causing her heart rate to skyrocket impossibly higher. She pulls it out, checking her messages.
She doesn't know if she should be thankful or upset that it's an SOS from Teddy.
"We have to go," she sniffs, wiping her face and tucking her phone in her pocket. "Teddy needs us."
"Kate-"
"It's an emergency. I'm going to go get ready. I'll meet you there in ten." She turns and heads to her room.
America blinks a few times, confused and full of regret.
She broke up with Ramone for this?
"Kate-"
Kate jumps as America's hand gently grabs her bruised shoulder. She cries out, turning back to America "Sorry."
"It's fine," Kate says tiredly, releasing her arm. "What do you want? I can't do dinner tonight. Or donuts. Or whatever it is the team wants to do."
"I thought maybe we could do something. Just us," America offers. She raises an eyebrow, tucking her hands in her pockets. Kate hates how confident she is.
"Is this about what happened earlier?" Kate frowns. "Because it's fine. You don't need to extend an olive branch or whatever. We're still friends. If you want to be-"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"I just-" she looks away from America, trying not to seem so embarrassed. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry."
America tilts her head, reaching for Kate's hand. Kate jumps at her touch, opting to look at their hands held together instead of America's face or whatever was happening on the other side of the street.
"Are you okay?"
Kate sighs, finally meeting her eyes.
"I don't know."
"Do you want me to take you home?"
Kate nods.
They fly in silence, and for a minute, America thinks Kate's fallen asleep on her back, arms wrapped round her shoulders and head resting on her shoulder. But when they land, Kate gets off in an instant and turns around, heading into the window on her fire escape.
"Kate," America calls, just loud enough for her to hear. Kate looks back at her.
"Yeah?"
"Can we talk? About what happened-"
"I'd prefer if we didn't," Kate says, swallowing hard. "Goodnight, America." She pulls herself the rest of the way through her window, dropping her bow and quiver just beside it on the ground.
"I'm not upset," America continues. Kate still doesn't turn around. "Kate."
"I can't do this right now," Kate nearly snaps, but when she turns around her eyes are shining, and in the darkness of her unlit apartment she looks sick, maybe even feral. She mutters an apology, then continues walking further into her apartment.
"For fuck's sake!" America huffs, leaning into the window. "I broke up with Ramone for you, Kate."
Kate turns around again, gawking at America. "Why would you do that?" She starts walking back towards America.
"You're really gonna make me say it?" America scoffs. Kate rolls her eyes, still coming closer to America. "I was waiting for you, Kate."
"What do you mean you were 'waiting for me'?" Kate asks, standing in front of America. She scans her face, trying to find some answer, but instead her eyes fight to stay off of her lips.
America's doing the same, expertly schooling her face into expression of utter indifference, eyes staring holes into Kate's. She can't tell if Kate's getting closer, or if she's just too focused on her face. "I was waiting for you," she says again, quieter, "because I wasn't sure if-"
Kate lets out some kind of whimper, and the space between them is suddenly closed as she pulls America's face to hers, pressing her lips desperately against hers.
When America kisses back, pushing her way through the window into Kate's apartment, Kate sighs into her mouth. It's a sigh of relief, she thinks. Or maybe not. Who cares?
She lets her hands fall to her sides as America pulls her closer, chests pressed against each other. Kate wonders if America can feel her heartbeat speeding up as she hooks her fingers in the hip-holes of Kate's uniform.
America's hands are warm, and Kate's certain her body is cold as ice, because her skin burns where America's fingers drag across it.
"Wait," Kate whispers breathlessly through broken kisses. "America."
America stops kissing her, looking at her in concern.
"So does this mean you like me or-"
America snorts. "I'll let you figure that one out yourself."