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The cloying perfume of newly-bloomed sage trickled over Kate as she stepped from the car. Yelena followed her, squatting to loosen her tightly-strung quads. She groaned loudly as she did so, having never quite lost her penchant for theatrics. Golden light broke from above, washing the meadow with a buttery glow. It cloaked Yelena as well, and Kate found herself strangely at peace in the foreign wilderness of “Mother Russia.”
Yelena pulled herself from her stretching position, rising shakily to her feet.
“Alright,” she stretches her arms behind her in a mock crucifixion. “We go now.”
Yelena busied herself pulling out their luggage, setting the bags onto the gravel road. Lucky and Fanny’s paws scrabble frantically against the window, their energy pulsating through the small car.
“Don’t let them out,” Yelena commands. “Booby traps.”
Kate grimaces a bit. The karaoke session on the ride over had helped soften the fact that she was walking into the lair of two super spies, yet now it stabbed back with full force. Her stomach began to ache dully.
Yelena handed her her purple suitcase. It had just occurred to her how intensely stupid it looked. Yelena hoisted her own bag over her shoulder, slamming the hatchback shut.
“You get Lucky, I get Fanny.”
She opened the door, taking Fanny’s leash in her fist. Kate followed suit.
Yelena smiled at her, eyes glittering with something genuinely happy. “Follow me.”
The walk is both surprisingly and unsurprisingly long. Yelena kept up most of the conversation, rambling on about her family. Occasionally she would throw a hand carelessly as if pointing to something hidden in the purple bushes, narrating what deadly trap lay hidden in the undergrowth.
When Yelena turned to look at her, face shining, she could only half-heartedly smile to mask her growing anxiety. The tightening tension in Yelena’s shoulders told her her efforts weren’t helping anything.
A dark-slated roof rose over the horizon, and Kate’s spine tingled in anticipation. She tightened her hold on Lucky’s leash. Almost there. Yelena had stopped her chattering, and Kate could feel her excitement quivering in the space between them. They’re probably watching me, she thought, and tried to shift her gait to seem more confident. Yet it just felt clumsy and stupid, essentially exactly how she had felt since she stepped from that car.
She had had dreams about this visit. They usually ended with Yelena’s mother, almost unintelligible with her thick Russian accent, asking who this idiot American girl was before pulling out her concealed thigh pistol to shoot her in the head. Maybe it was simply a result of an overactive imagination and low-budget spy movie marathons, but it was some hard imagery to shake.
Yelena’s stride lengthened as they drew nearer. Her hand swung back to grip Kate’s, pulling her along. Yelena’s hands were perpetually clammy, and her rings burned cold against Kate’s skin, yet she gripped just as hard back. The front door of the house was now visible.
Kate wanted to slam on the breaks, turn around, call it quits. Instead she let Yelena pull her across the “lawn”, stumbling behind like some lovesick puppy.
Yelena knocked on the door in a sharp, practiced pattern. The windows alongside the door were tinted, blocking off the inside from the out. Thuds from within caused vibrations that began at her feet and rose, shaking in her eardrums. The door flew open.
“Lenochka!” A burly man pulled Yelena into his arms. Yelena giggled, a soft little sound that was muffled against the man’s chest. They stood for a moment, Yelena’s feet dangling about a foot off the ground. After a beat he set her down, smiling so hard it seemed to strain his facial muscles. His expression did not change as he turned to Kate.
“Kate Bishop!” His inflection and tone was almost identical to Yelena’s. Kate stuck out her hand, having practiced it in the mirror the previous night. Simultaneously Yelena’s father opened his arms as if drawing her in for another hug. Fuck. His smile dropped a bit on one side before pulling back up, extending his arm to hers. She took it, grateful, and didn’t miss how he closed his other hand over hers. His hands were clammy.
“We have heard a lot about you, Kate Bishop!” His shirt was checkered blue, still creased from the package it had been bought in.
“As have I, sir.”
He shifted uncomfortably at her serious tone. “Uh, please, call me Alexei.” He picked up their luggage, stepping backwards into the safety of the house. “Come in, girls. Dinner has been ready for hour, we did not know when you come.”
As he moved deeper into the building Kate made a move to follow him. Yelena held her back.
“Why are you acting so weird?” Yelena hissed.
“I don’t know,” she responded frantically. “I can’t help it, I’m stressed.”
“Don’t be stressed,” Yelena rolled her eyes like it was that easy. “Is only Mama and Papa.”
“I want to impress them- I don’t want them to think I’m weird.”
Yelena made a face. “Why?”
Kate shook her head. “Whatever, I’ll just play it cool, okay? I’ll stop.”
Yelena pulled her lip to the side, obviously a little concerned. However, when a dark-haired woman emerged from the next room to beckon them in she did not hesitate, stepping lightly over the threshold.
The woman was less tactile than Alexei, instead planting a kiss on Yelena’s cheek. The younger one immediately wiped it off, pretending to hate the doting.
Melina began on a rant in Russian, the tone so universally mom Kate could tell exactly what she was saying. Have you been eating well, why are you late, have you been staying safe? Kate looked around for some alcohol, seeking a way to make her throat burn with something other than grief.
She milled into the dining room, Lucky still straining on his leash. The room was newly dim in twilight, yet the warm hues still shone. Plates sat upon the table, food set out in a myriad of decorative dishes.
Steps echoed behind her. Alexei made no effort to stay quiet, a fact that relaxed Kate.
“So,” Alexei’s throat cleared awkwardly behind her. “It is nice to finally meet ‘Lena’s girlfriend.”
Kate immediately turned on her heel to face him. Girlfriend-girlfriend or friend who’s a girl? She could see his muscles straining against the button-down and decided not to ask.
“Yeah…” she swallowed. She grasped for something to say. “Your house is really nice.” That always seemed to please her mother’s friends.
Alexei guffawed. “Is not my house, my wife just lets me live in it! But thank you, I will tell Melina.” He clapped his big paw onto her shoulder. She flinched. Streams of Russian continued to flow from the kitchen. They stood in silence.
“So… I really like your suit. Yelena showed me pictures.” Yelena had briefed her in the car; when in doubt talk about the Red Guardian. Alexei’s face contorted, joy crinkling in his eyes before spreading throughout his features.
“You really think so?!” He pumped his fist in victory, before refocusing on her. “I told them it was cool. The star is just the right size, yes? Not too big, not too small?”
“No, no, I like it, really.” Her words tumbled out easily, happy to have finally found some common ground.
“I was just arguing with my wife,” he gestured flippantly in Melina’s general direction. “She said was too ostentatious .” The final word was muddled with his Russian accent. “She is good with English words, had to look word up, but she is still wrong.” Kate nodded along, probably a little too eagerly.
“What about your wife?” Melina strode in, holding a bowl of something akin to pungent potato salad. Yelena followed her, balancing cups filled with water.
Kate expected the man to back off, but he continued. “I said you were wrong about suit while using big English words- make me look dumb.”
Melina tilted her head while she mulled his words before responding. “Sounds right. Come. Eat.” She made no attempt to hide that she changed the subject. “I spent whole day cooking.”
Yelena pulled back the chair next to hers, gesturing for Kate to take a seat. She did, watching the family take their positions. The seat across from hers remained empty. Natasha.
Melina diverted her attention swiftly. “So, Kate Bishop, would you like something to drink?”
Kate, still riding out the high from her conversation with Alexei, smiled a bit. “Sure, vodka right?” She almost threw in some finger guns along with it.
Melina’s already stony face somehow grew more serious. “Is that because we’re Russian?”
Kate shook her head in a quick jerk. Her brain ricocheted about her skull. Thank fuck she didn’t throw in the finger guns. “No! Sorry! No ma’am.”
“That is very stereotypical, Kate.” Melina leaned onto her arms, drawing nearer.
“Mama, stop.” Melina conceded, leaning back in her chair. When she turned to face Kate again she was smiling.
“I am sorry, it was funny. Your face-”
“Yeah!” Kate let out a burst of relieved noise similar to a laugh. “Yeah! Really funny!” The laugh might have been a little too much. Yelena kicked her foot under the table. Stop acting so weird.
Melina chose to ignore the outburst. She reached behind her, pulling out a champagne bottle. “Kate, here, you first.” Soft fizzing filled the room as Melina uncorked the bottle.
Kate didn’t like alcohol. She didn’t like the way it rushed over her lungs and burned her heart. She especially didn’t like the drunken whispers that came with it at her mother’s dinner parties, the wrinkled hands that would pull at her until she fell apart.
She accepted the glass from Melina, though, making sure to offer up a grin she was sure no one at that table bought.
Soon they were eating, and Yelena was regaling her parents with their slightly exaggerated heroic tales. Her arrow ring flashed by as she waved her hands about. Melina had already asked her multiple times to “Please, Yelena, keep mouth closed when you chew.” Her admonitions didn’t seem to make it through Yelena’s thick skull.
“And then we were in the center of it; I mean at least 50 men!” It had been 20 at absolute most. “Papa, you should have seen, Kate, she looked so cool!” Kate had been stabbed in that fight. But Yelena’s eyes were bright with unadulterated admiration, and it felt so good she didn’t say anything.
Melina’s eyes were light as she spooned more food onto her daughter’s plate, nodding along to the story. Her love for her was almost suffocating in the small room.
She turned to do the same to Kate, spoon already deep into the Olivier salad. “No, I’m full, thank you though Mrs,” Kate scrunched her face in uncertainty, “Romanoff?”
Melina’s body went lax, her spoon falling back into the dish with a quiet yet angry clink . “You no like?”
Kate stiffened. “No, really, it’s not that, we just had a big lunch. It was really, really good- I mean it.”
“Then you should have more.”
“Mama, stop it, really,” Yelena has abandoned her story, intervening. “She is not hungry, okay? Leave her alone.”
“Okay, okay!” Melina set the tupperware down with a thud. She threw up her hands in defeat. “I wish you girls would eat more. You do not eat well on mission.”
Yelena shrugged, ignoring her mother. She didn’t pick her story back up, allowing silence to fall once again. This obviously bothered Alexei. His leg began to bounce faster and faster under the table. How was this man a spy again?
“So!” He burst up from the table in a flurry of clattering plates and silverware. “Do you want to see Lena’s baby pictures?”
A smile grew on her lips. “Absolutely I do.”
Yelena’s whines of protest followed them as Kate followed Alexei to the living room. Lucky and Fanny lay together on the rug, exceptionally calm. “Get comfy, I will get it.” Twin portraits hung above the fireplace, sisters staring at her across time. She knew Yelena and Natasha weren’t technically related, but their eyes were the same; in both color and something more abstract.
Yelena took a seat next to her, turning towards Kate as she tried to find an excuse to focus on anything other than the portraits. She found one, reaching out to gently finger the symbol hanging around Kate’s neck.
“You’re wearing it,” she breathed. The little hourglass shone softly under dimmed lights. It had been given last Christmas, accompanied by anticipation and fear on Yelena’s part. For our anniversary , she had mumbled, uncharacteristically self-conscious. Now Kate just nodded, biting her lip a bit.
Melina made her way from the dining room, still sipping on a glass of champagne. She took a seat next to Yelena, staring straight into the eyes of the redheaded woman across the room in a way her daughter was not able to. Alexei returned.
Unexpectedly he attempted to wedge him between Kate and Yelena on the couch. Kate flinched in surprise, and she could tell he knew by the apologetic frown he gave her in return. It disappeared when he opened the album, though.
“Aw!” Kate leaned closer to coo at the little blonde baby in the picture. “Yelena! You were so cute!”
“Is not actually Yelena,” Alexei brushed off, flipping quickly through the pages. Kate decided to ignore the comment. Years and years flipped by, pigtails grew longer. Finally his fingers slowed.
“There,” his thick finger landed on the cheek of a little girl. She was beaming at the camera holding a basket of baby tomatoes. In the next picture the tomatoes lay scattered about her, with the basket sat upon her head like a crown.
“Baby toma-oes,” Melina murmured affectionately. Yelena had given up her whining, leaning closer to inspect the photo.
“I have never seen that one before.”
Alexei nodded, turning the pages reverently now. The family kept up a constant chatter. They laughed especially hard at a picture of Yelena at four blowing a kiss into the camera, her face smeared with different lipstick shades and green eyeshadow. Kate found herself laughing along, knowing all the while these pictures weren’t really for her.
At last Alexei turned the final page. Yelena’s pale hair flowed behind her as she swung, her bare legs bright against the sky with her sister alongside her. Her face was beaming with simple, childish joy, and Kate’s heart ached as the leather binding of the album creaked shut.
Yelena seemed to have been prepared, standing up from her seat quickly. “Let’s watch a movie, yeah?”
Kate nodded along, willing to follow anything Yelena suggested. The flutes of champagne had cut all the edges from the world, and everything, including Yelena’s fingers when she grabbed her hand, was pleasantly fuzzy.
“Kate can pick!” Kate had a feeling that this would have been a cause for alarm only a couple of hours previous, but now she just only made a couple of sleepy complaints.
Yelena began to pull at Kate. “But pajamas first. I wanna be cozy.” Kate allowed herself to be hoisted to her feet, and led out of the room. They made their way down the hallway. Kate focused only on the whorls of the floorboards, the weathered panels that creaked with age and memories, and the feel of Yelena’s hand in hers.
The room they reached was painted a bright shock of yellow, and plastered with so many bright posters and photos it made Kate’s head spin. She collapsed on the quilt, starfishing on the cool covers. It felt nice to close her aching eyes.
Yelena’s hold never loosened from her arm. “Kate?! Are you drunk?!” Yelena tugged on her arm in disbelief.
“Mm, just tipsy.” Yelena let out a barking laugh, falling onto the bed next to her. Kate could feel her breath on her shoulder.
“You only had two glasses.”
“Russian champagne must be stronger,” she mumbled, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling. Yelena huffed in amusement next to her.
“Is not, but tell yourself that.” There was movement on the bed as Yelena lifted herself up with just a little too much grace. “I tell Mama and Papa. Stay there.”
Her footsteps faded from the room, and all of a sudden the peaceful quiet was pierced with loud voices.
Kate closed her eyes and listened to the Russian pouring through the open door. Alexei sounded incredibly disappointed, his big shoulders likely slumping under the weight of it. Melina sounded a bit concerned. In between the throaty r’s and hard k’s Kate imagined she was asking if the American girl was alright, if she had pushed her too far. Kate lifted a hand to rub at her face, regretting the night already.
The noise faded. Yelena came striding back in with Lucky and Fanny on her heels, closing the door behind her. “Okay, we watch tomorrow.” She began to rummage through their bags, throwing a pile of clothes at Kate. “We sleep now”
Later Kate sat awake, the warm feeling of the champagne having since faded. The arms of a tree brushed lazily against Yelena’s window. Yelena lay beside her, her gaze fixated on the branches. Her leg pressed against Kate’s, and it took everything in Kate’s power not to move it.
“I missed it here.” Yelena spoke without warning, her face still turned from her.
“Yeah?” It sounded lame coming from her mouth.
“Yeah.” Yelena mimicked her American accent without malice. She scooted a bit closer to Kate. “Do you like it? Here, I mean. Mama and Papa,” she raised her eyebrows in exaggeration, “they are much sometimes.”
“Oh! Oh, yeah, they’re great!” Yelena smiled a bit, fiddling with the leg of her stuffed bear. Kate reveled in the way she softened in the moonlight, without her bright makeup and tight braids. It was quiet again.
The post-champagne clarity was making Kate loose-lipped. “Your dad actually said something funny to me today.”
Yelena laughed fondly. “He says many funny things.”
Kate laughed along with her, caught up in the moment. “Yeah.” Suddenly Yelena was looking at her, her eyes expectant.
“Oh, um, he called me your girlfriend.” Kate forced a laugh.
Yelena’s brow creased. “You are my girlfriend.” Her accent seemed to grow thicker in this small house.
“No, not like a friend who’s a girl. A girlfriend. ” Yelena’s gaze did not waver. Oh.
“I thought- we share apartment! And sleep in same bed! And I brought you to meet parents like American movies!” Yelena’s explosive demeanor had fizzled out. Now her lips were pulled into a frown.
“You never told me-”
“I not think I had to! They even showed you my baby photos-”
“-you have to ask someone to be your girlfriend, Yelena!” Her voice was rising with something she didn’t recognize.
“My Papa never did and he’s been married to my Mama for 25 years.” Yelena huffed as though proving an important point. Kate tried to ignore that comment, pushing her head back into the pillow. Her heart hammered away in her throat, making her head fuzzy. She fought back the urge to smile.
All was quiet for a moment.
“I want to be your girlfriend, though.”
She looked towards Yelena as she said it, hands shaking slightly with adrenaline.
“I really do.”
Yelena beamed so brightly Kate could understand why her nickname was “Sunshine”, pushing herself forward to curl into Kate. The soft kiss she pressed on the underside of Kate’s neck lingered long after the moonlight had waned.
Later they lay under the watch of the tree, Yelena’s arms around her. Something bubbled inside of her, something warm. Love? Still, the night was young, and Kate breathed in the woman behind her.
She smelled like champagne.