off the record - bishova

I

The wind coming off the East River was unforgiving at 2:00 AM, Brooklyn dockyards smelled of salt, rusted iron and bad decisions.

I crouched on the gravel covered rooftop of Warehouse-4, adjusting my grip on my bow. The chill was creeping right through my gloves but I kept my posture locked.

Down in the shipping yard Kamala was crouched behind a rusted dumpster, her bright shields completely powered down to blend into the shadows. Across the lane, Cassie was positioned behind a forklift keeping her eyes locked on our mark, a middle aged -very bald- guy holding an encrypted flash drive.

Everything was going smoothly. We were building something solid with the Young Avengers. No government clearances, no giant press conferences, no high-quality expensive jets. Just clean work that actually helped people without turning it into a public relations circus.

Then the gravel behind me shifted.

It was a faint crunch beneath the weight of a boot that knew exactly how to move without making a sound.

Instinct took over before my brain could process it. I spun on my heel drawing my bowstring back to my cheek in one fluid motion, the arrow aimed dead center at the chest of the shadow standing by the rooftop door.

The figure didn't flinch. It didn't drop into a stance, reach for a gun or raise a hand in surprise.

She just stood there, hands tucked casually into her pockets, framed by the cold glow of the Manhattan bridge behind her.

"Your form is sloppy when you are cold, Kate Bishop." she said quietly.

The world seemed to lose all its air.

That accent. That calm familiar voice, that bittersweet perfume that used to fill my apartment.

I held my breath, keeping my posture locked. I refused to put my bow down.

Yelena was wearing the gray high-tech suit that came with the shiny new Avengers badge. No mismatched straps, no worn leather vest with a hundred useful pockets. Just sleek, tailored, government-funded perfection. It looked wrong on her.

"You're trespassing on my zone, Belova." I said my voice loud and strictly professional.

Yelena tilted her head, her green eyes scanning my face with a terrifying intensity. "The shipment down there is not local street cargo Kate. It's high-grade tech routed from Madripoor. My team has been monitoring the channel for two weeks."

"Your team," I repeated, tightening my grip on the riser. "Well, my team got here first."

"Yes, I see." Yelena murmured, her head turning toward the shipping lane where Kamala was signaling Cassie. "The children's division."

"We're the Young Avengers," I snapped. "and we don't need supervision from the bigger leagues."

Yelena took two slow steps forward. She didn't glance at the arrowhead pointed at her throat, she simply walked right past my line of fire and leaned against the cold concrete overlooking at the docks.

"I am not supervising," she said softly, staring down at the dark harbor. "I was... tracking from the area."

"Right. The area," I muttered, slowly letting the tension off my bowstring and slotting the arrow back into the quiver. I kept my face turned firmly away from her. "Because Brooklyn is so close to upstate."

A brutal silence fell between us. Heavy, awkward and suffocating.

Yelena adjusted her collar against the wind. "You cut your hair." she said after a long moment. It was soft, small and hesitant.

I kept my optics focused on Cassie down below and totally ignored what she just said.

"The dock security keeps two men on the water tower," she offered, her tone almost gentle. "I can take them off the board for you."

"I took them off the board 20 mins ago," I said flatly. "They're currently zippertied to a pipe in the utility closet. I know how to run my own mission."

Yelena swallowed hard. In my peripheral vision, I saw her jaw lock as she stared down at her fully red hands because yeah that grown ass woman refused to put some gloves on. Again.

"Kate-"

"Target is moving," i said cutting her off cold. I raised my bow, "Cassie, Kamala wrap it up and head to the secondary alley. We're clear."

"Copy that Hawkeye," Kamala's voice crackled cheerfully through my earpiece. "Heading out."

I unstrung my bow and slung it across my chest. I didn't ask about the whereabouts of her gloves, or why she was standing on a freezing rooftop in Brooklyn instead of sleeping peacefully at the Avengers Tower.

"Good luck with your Madripoor case," I said, turning on my heel towards the rooftop access door.

"Kate, stop" Yelena called out, her voice cracking just enough to lose its defensive composure. "Please."

I stopped flat with my palm pressed against the cold iron of the door frame. I didn't turn around.

"Don't do this, Yelena," I said, swallowing the sudden tightness in my throat. "You made your choice six months ago."

I shoved the door open, stepped into the dark concrete stairwell, and let the heavy door slam shut between us.