May 30, 2026
The Greek island of Zakynthos
Natasha
''Get that out of my face.'' Natasha scowled lightly, lazily swatting at the pocket-size digital camera pointed at her.
Katya stopped walking, her sad eyes widening. ''But the light is nice, and you look really pretty.'' She pouted, peering up at Natasha through her eyelashes when the redhead halted with a sigh. Those puppy eyes were her downfall every time.
''You say that every time.''
''Because it's true! Please,'' she dragged out the word, jutting out her bottom lip further, and Natasha knew she was screwed. She gave in with a sigh, like she always did.
Whenever Katya pulled out her camera and pointed it at her, they played the same game. Natasha would pretend to hate it, Katya would pout adorably, and then Natasha would give in with a sigh and be rewarded with a breathtakingly bright smile that made her heart skip a beat. Katya thought she won, but it was really the redhead counting herself as the winner.
So, she endured the torture of being her wife's model, letting her adjust her hair and her clothes and following her directions.
''Just stand there, look a bit to the right, a bit more. Perfect!''
The shutter went off, and Katya immediately checked the image on the small display, smiling happily at the result.
Her cheeks were red because of the warmth and a light sunburn she refused to admit she had, her bright blue eyes twinkled gleefully, and her brown hair waved lazily back and forth in the sea breeze, and Natasha thought it was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.
Whatever was on that screen, she knew the picture she was capturing with her own eyes in this moment would put it to shame.
Katya put the camera into her small purse and slipped her hand into Natasha's again, continuing their walk home. A small, cozy restaurant in a narrow street just off the boulevard had stolen their hearts the first evening here, and now they had dinner on the patio underneath the sinking sun every day.
They talked about everything and nothing, but mostly sat in easy silence, savoring these moments. And on the way home, they'd walk the boulevard, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth between their bodies.
Greece was a paradise; the temperatures pleasant even in the late evenings, sunshine all day long, and a whole different kind of architecture that took their breaths away regularly. Palm trees lined the boulevard they walked on, white sand grinded underneath their shoes, and the sea rushed on shore with a familiarity they were used to from Italy.
"Oh!" They were nearing their cabin when Katya stopped abruptly, scrambling for her camera again.
''Kat,'' Natasha whined, throwing her head back, her braid tickling her spine.
''Just one more. One more," she promised. "I have a vision.''
She prompted Natasha to lean against the back of a public bench, telling her to grip the edge as far away from her sides as possible. Of course, Natasha indulged her, with nothing more than a roll of her eyes and a sigh.
Katya quickly took the picture and checked the result, walking up to her wife to show her too. When she appeared content, finger reaching for the off-button, Natasha snatched her up and wrapped her in her arms, back to chest. An involuntary shriek flew off Katya's lips, and she was too late to notice the camera disappearing from her hands until it was in Natasha's.
The redhead laughed as Katya struggled against the ticklish kisses pressed to her exposed neck, squirming and whining uncontrollably. But she couldn't get away, the hold on her body was too strong. "Got you now."
"Let me go! It tickles!"
"Not until we've taken a picture." Natasha smirked, somehow managing to turn the camera on one-handed and not dropping it on the concrete.
Katya squeezed her eyes shut and threw her arms up to hide behind. "I don't want to be in a picture!"
"Oh, how the turns have tabled." Natasha mused, flipping the display to the front of the camera and making sure they were both in frame before resting her finger on the shutter. "Say cheese!" She dug the fingers of her other hand into Katya's side, tickling her there at the same time she blew a raspberry into her neck.
A loud, gigglish laugh burst from Katya's lips, her arms shooting down to her waist to pry Natasha's hand off, and that's when the redhead snapped the picture. It turned out slightly blurry, but that only made it better. It had caught them in a carefree moment, both their smiles wide, Natasha's half hidden in her wife's shoulder.
With Natasha momentarily distracted, Katya finally managed to break free, giving her a light shove as she stumbled on her feet, weak from laughing so hard. "You're a menace." She scowled, putting a good amount of distance between them.
Natasha chuckled amusedly, hanging the camera around her neck and offering Katya her hand, wiggling her fingers. "Come on, I'll make it up to you with a foot massage." She cocked her head, waiting.
But Katya crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, rooting her feet firmly in her spot and making a point of ignoring her hand.
Natasha laughed and walked up to her, snatching her wrist. "Come on, you big baby."
~~~
Natasha quickly found out what she had started; a one-sided picture war. Or more like Katya's path of revenge. Instead of asking her to pose now, Katya turned to sneakily snapping candid pictures of her, everywhere, at any time. Not once could Natasha let her guard down.
It started when she was reading a book on the small porch of their cabin that very same night, curled up in the one-person porch swing just left of the cabin door.
There was no particular mistake that gave Katya away—she was dead silent in her movements, avoiding the creaking floorboards—but Natasha saw the camera in the very corner of her eye, sticking a mere two inches around the corner of the doorframe.
"Four o'clock," she said casually, flipping a page.
"Damn," she heard Katya mutter, seeing the camera retreat into the cabin. A smile tugged on her lips.
The next time was that next morning, when she enjoyed her cup of iced coffee on that same porch.
The cabin was surrounded by bushes and trees around the back and sides, giving it a private feeling. Sometimes, animals would run from the cover of shadow, and once, a stray cat jumped out of the bushes. But Natasha knew that whatever was watching her from the shrubs now, wasn't an animal.
She hadn't even realized Katya wasn't in the house anymore.
"Nine o'clock," she called out, feeling eyes on her from her left side.
The bush rustled, and up popped Katya, camera in hand. "Fuck."
Her wife swapped tactics after that, hoping the buzz of public places would distract her. A good try, but as Natasha licked at her ice cream that afternoon, sitting on a bench waiting for Katya to come back "from the toilet", she felt those eyes on her again.
"Honey, if you want a picture of me, you should just ask!" She yelled, drawing some weird looks from strangers who thought she was yelling to herself. "Two o'clock, yellow car!"
"Oh, come on!" Katya popped up from behind the parked car across the street, scowling at her own failure. She looked like a pouty child. "And no! I will beat your paranoid senses!"
"I look forward to that day!"
Again, Katya switched tactics. She waited a couple days, leaving Natasha in tension, letting her think maybe it was over. But she could be as stubborn as her redheaded wife was, and Natasha never let her guard down.
It was nearly dark this time, very late at night as Natasha stood with her feet in the sand, a short distance away from the cabin. Sometimes, she liked to just stand there, hands on her hips, watching and listening to the sea. It was grounding.
Her eyes were closed, enjoying the breeze on her skin, the smell of the sea, and the sound of the waves. Until her senses picked up on another thing, and she smiled to herself.
"Six!" She called back. "How did you get on the roof?"
She turned, and it was hard to make out, but the last sunrays allowed her to see Katya's figure on the roof of the cabin, lying on her stomach like a damn sniper. She must have used the porch railing to get up there.
"How?!" Katya exclaimed, utterly frustrated and defeated. She was the only person who could sneak up on Natasha, ever, yet it seemed she'd lost her touch.
The redhead laughed, tracking back to the cabin. "All that muscle you put on didn't help your stealth."
That wasn't the problem, though, they both knew. If it were anybody else, Katya would have succeeded, but Natasha simply had a sixth sense for her presence.
It was on the final day Katya finally got her.
Natasha had taken an after-dinner nap with her head in Katya's lap, curled up on the porch couch while the brunette read a book above her head. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but originally, Katya was softly reading that book to her while her fingers ran through her hair, and it was just so soothing that the light in her head simply went out.
Some shuffling woke her up, but she didn't think much of it. It was the last day with just the two of them, and Katya's lap was way too comfortable to get off of yet. The brunette probably just put her book down or flipped a page.
But then she heard it; the shutter, followed by soft, celebratory giggles. A drowsy smile instantly tugged on Natasha's lips at the sound, and all her bones and insides turned to mush. Losing wasn't so bad.
"You got me in a vulnerable state. Unfair play," she mumbled, lightly stirring but making no move to get off.
"Didn't your teachers tell you never to lower your guard, ever?"
Natasha could hear the happy grin in her voice. It was worth every ugly sleeping picture of her. "Dunno. Never really listened in class. Was distracted a lot.'' Opening her eyes slowly, she looked up and smiled knowingly at Katya, whose cheeks turned an adorable color of pink. "But congrats on getting the picture, I guess."
"Can you at least pretend to hate losing?" Katya sighed. The camera had long left her hands, and they had returned to Natasha's hip and her hair, moving mindlessly.
"Who said I lost?" The redhead smirked when Katya furrowed her brows, clearly not piecing together what she meant. "You know when something's so cute your brain can't handle it and you feel like murdering it?"
"Yeah?"
"I want to murder you, right now." She saw when it clicked, watching her sinking shoulders with sparkling eyes.
"Wow," Katya whispered in disbelief, shaking her head. "You're such a simp."
"You make it really easy." Natasha grinned, turning onto her back. "Now, kiss me."
Katya frowned, taken aback. "Why?"
"Your prize for winning, my consolation for losing." She shrugged.
Katya narrowed her eyes. "I thought you just said you didn't lose?"
Natasha grinned wider, grabbing Katya's face and pulling it down until their lips brushed together. "Shut up and kiss me."
March 2, 2028
Maya
The bright yellow school bus stopped right before her nose, creaking and hissing as the double doors opened to let her in. Maya hoisted her backpack further up her shoulder, said hello to the driver, and plopped onto the first unoccupied bench she found, slumping her head against the window. Winter may not be officially over yet, but the sun had been out all morning and shone in her face as the bus pulled away from the bus stop.
High school was a weird place, Maya discovered. She had been going for a little over one and a half years, but from the first day forward, she found out what being an Avengers' daughter truly meant. The kids in middle school hadn't been aware enough to let it influence their views on her, but older teens knew all about the superheroes. They'd been manipulative and narcissistic because of it, creating a space more toxic than the reality TV dating shows her moms liked to watch.
They pretend to be her friend to gain status, kiss some serious ass to try and get access to her house and meet some real Avengers, and offer to do her homework in exchange for a signature from one of her moms. It had gotten to the point where they swarmed her like mosquitos in July, pushing her into popularity she never asked for, and it took months of ignoring them for them to get the hint that she was not budging.
Then, they dropped her, turning their backs, their eyes skipping over her like she was air.
The joke was on them, though, because Maya was more than content moving invisibly through the crowds, taking the bus to school instead of her baby blue Mustang, dressing comfortably instead of flashy or expensive, and not participating in the drama or gossip that only dragged people down. Just trying to live her life.
Occasionally, someone new would try to approach her, but her moms had warned her about fake people, and her own intelligence had helped Maya greatly in filtering the true friends from the fake ones.
She was sad to say that meant she had found trust in only two people; her friends Harper and Camila. They texted, they FaceTimed, they hung out together, they went to the cinema or the mall, but she had never been able to call anyone a best friend.
She was too different. Because of what she already went through in her short life, Maya had a different view on things. She preferred things teens her age did not. Silence, staying in on Friday nights, hobbies that did not include technology, deeper conversations, and she lacked some adolescent fixation on finding the next cute person to kiss.
She longed for deeper connections, soul connections, and therefore, she was a bit of a loner, but Maya didn't mind the solitude.
If she had to explain herself in a Taylor Swift song, she was a perfect mix of 'mirrorball', and 'the lakes'. An overthinking, shy people-pleaser who could adjust herself to fit in anywhere, but only showed her true self around the people she trusted, away from the fake smiles.
That meant she felt best at home, around her moms who were the exact same, who knew what she felt and understood her like no other. Going into puberty, for her, hadn't meant pushing her parents away. They only got closer.
''Morning.'' Camila stood by her own locker, a couple down from Maya's. It was decorated with stickers, some half faded over the years. The girl liked experimenting with her hair, and today, it sat atop her head in two buns, two pitch-black strands framing her face.
''I like your hair today,'' Maya complimented, sliding her headphones off her ears. She rarely made such an effort for school. Her hair had proven to be difficult to tame, so most days it ended up in either a bun, a ponytail, or a braid of some sort.
Camila's tan hand shot up to one of her space buns, touching it gently. ''Thanks.'' She smiled, zipping up her bag and shutting her locker with a bang. ''Ready for the English test?''
Maya shrugged, fumbling around in her locker for the books she needed. ''I think I studied well enough, but you never know with Miss Green.'' Lucky for her, school came rather easy. She was smart, and not one class truly challenged her. But she never mentioned that to her friends.
''True.'' Camila's face lit up like she suddenly remembered something. ''Oh, by the way, I'm throwing a party on Friday for my birthday. I believe you don't have a game then?''
Maya's heart sank at the thought of a party, but Camila was her friend and she'd show up for her any day, especially on her birthday. ''I don't, so I'll be there.'' She smiled, peeking at her from behind the locker door.
''Be where?'' Harper popped up out of nowhere, smirking at their surprised faces. Her bright smile and happy aura never faltered and never failed to lift up their dreary mornings, and today wasn't any different.
''Cam's throwing a party.'' Maya smiled knowingly, readying herself for Harper's predictable reaction, and she didn't disappoint.
''Again?'' The girl's eyebrows shot to her hairline, her dark blonde ponytail swinging around when her head did. ''Girl, how do you get your parents to agree to parties every week?!''
Maya laughed at the utterly offended expression on Camila's face. ''Every week?! I don't throw a party every week.''
''You threw one last month cause it was your dog's birthday.''
''It's my dog!''
Their bantering continued through the busy school halls until they had to part ways with Camila. She had biology first and was spared an English test during an ungodly hour, while everyone was still wiping sleep from their eyes. Cruel, really.
Maya took her usual spot in the middle of the class, next to Harper, dumping her backpack on the floor and fiddling with the pen she'd taken out in preparation for the test. Students continuously poured in, most chatting with friends, some with their noses in their phones, others with their English textbook in their hands, desperately looking over the material one last time.
She watched them lazily, waiting for the bell to ring, nodding absentmindedly to something Harper said. But her gaze kept drifting back to a girl in the row next to hers, a couple chairs to the front, turned around in her seat to chat with the girl behind her.
Brooklyn.
Usually, loose fit jeans, Vans, and an oversized black sweater would have been a plain outfit, but the dark blonde girl had a talent for accessorizing. Multiple small silver rings and bracelets adorned her hands and wrists, two necklaces hung from her neck, and her messy bun allowed Maya to see the four piercings in her left ear. Somehow, it looked delicate, soft.
Brooklyn was a popular girl, but she was one of those rare cases where they didn't let it get to their head. She was kind, hard-working, stood up for people, and did not allow bullies to have their say. Her confidence never turned cocky, and despite having strong beliefs—feminism, LGBTQ+ rights, protecting the environment—she didn't force them on anyone. Teachers loved Brooklyn, everyone loved Brooklyn, and Maya admired her like crazy.
Okay, Maya had a crush on her.
Maya had a crush on her, and Brooklyn had never done more than smile at her and give her a kind greeting when their eyes met in class or in the hallways. It was a bit sad how much information she missed in class because her eyes kept drifting over to the blonde with the wavy long hair who wiggled her foot up and down restlessly and had a bad habit of chewing on the back of her pen when she was focused.
At first, Maya was surprised to feel this way. She didn't know she was into girls like her moms. Only boys had caught her eye up until the start of sophomore year, and that had never been more than a few butterflies and physical attraction. But after overthinking about it for weeks until well into the night, in the dark of her bedroom where her thoughts were hers and hers alone, pieces started to fall into place. Maya had been attracted to girls all her life, only she hadn't recognized the signs up until now.
There was Tess, the girl from soccer in middle school who she always paired up with and stuck around. There was Lila, but Maya refused to think about that for too long, because they called each other cousins and it felt weird. And there was Sofia from Italy, who she met up with every vacation spent on the white beaches and in the blue sea.
She tried not to think of how long her moms already knew this for. It made her cringe.
One very—possibly only—positive thing Maya could name about this crush, was that Brooklyn was openly into girls too. Her phone and notebooks had multiple rainbow stickers on them, her denim jacket had a lesbian flag pin, and Maya heard her talk about some girl she kissed a couple times.
Not that it truly mattered. Brooklyn clearly was not interested in her, and Maya would rather stand in front of the school bus than go up to the blonde and talk to her.
The bell rang, and Maya jumped in her seat, harshly yanked out of her daydreaming.
''Settle down everyone! Phones away and on silent. I only want to see a pen on your desks, nothing else. A blue or black pen, Miss Holt. If I see another pink glitter pen, I will not grade your test.''
''Yes, Miss Green.''
Brooklyn turned back to face the front of the class, cutting the conversation with her friend behind her short, and Maya was too late to look away. Their eyes locked.
A smile naturally curled on the blonde's lips, her hand rising in a simple, friendly wave. But Maya's heart skipped a beat, and she felt warmth rush to her cheeks at being caught. It took her too long to recover. By the time she had remembered how to move the muscles in her arm to give a wave back, she was looking at the back of Brooklyn's head.
Great. Now, she must think she didn't like her or wasn't friendly.
Maya's shoulders slumped, and she was glad to have that test now. For almost an hour, it took up all her focus and pushed that embarrassing moment to the back of her brain. But she was done before the rest of the class was, and the silent wait for the bell left her with the perfect opportunity to feel frustrated with herself. Even Harper commented on her frown once class was over. But Maya just said a question on the test had caused it while she subtly watched Brooklyn pack up her stuff and leave the room with the same bright smile she always wore. That must be a good sign, right?
The blonde had weaseled her way into Maya's brain and would not leave. When she wasn't around, it was fine. But then someone mentioned her, or her figure would pop up in the hallways, or the bathroom, or in the cafeteria, or her perfume would drift into Maya's nose, or she sat in front of her in class, and Maya would not be able to focus on the conversations she had anymore. It was torture.
Torture she chose to endure on her own. She wasn't exactly out, and somehow telling someone about this made it feel out of her control. Other people's actions were uncontrollable, and the risk of Camila accidentally being too obvious towards Brooklyn was too high. And her moms would make too big of a deal of it. Especially Katya, who was very sweet but also too enthusiastic whenever Maya told her about liking someone.
It was her own little secret. Safe inside her head, to explore on her own, to get over when it undoubtedly led nowhere. She liked it that way.
''Hey, we should hit up the mall after school, buy something nice for Friday. If you want?'' Harper asked by the time lunch rolled around. They stood in line for food, gripping their trays tightly as the cafeteria buzzed. Camila had yet to show up.
''Why not.'' Maya smiled. ''Maybe we can get some dinner too? My moms–''
''Are in Washington D.C. because your mom is getting honored for preventing a terrorist attack?''
The redhead's brows furrowed as she turned to the girl confused. ''Yes. How did you–'' Harper nudged an elbow in her side and clumsily nodded towards the TV screen behind the lunch counter. For some weird reason, it always broadcast a news channel. And oh.
Maya's face paled. Natasha stared right back at her on the screen, and Harper wasn't the only one who had noticed the Avenger. Dozens of eyes settled on her, as they always did when the word Avenger fell, and anxiety jumped up in Maya's throat. She did not like the spotlight, and it took everything to stay right where she was, shifting uncomfortably in her spot.
''Oh. Yes, I believe she stumbled upon some shady guy in her research for work and pointed the FBI to him or something,'' Maya tried to downplay it. She didn't want people to look at her like that. Yes, her moms were heroes, but they were just her moms.
Natasha
They were not far from their destination now; a very hard-to-miss, giant white building in the center of the city. Strangely enough, it would be the first time she ever set foot in the president's home. When Tony found out, he bragged about having saved and being friends with former president Ellis until the point where he could waltz into the White House whenever he pleased.
Natasha just dryly congratulated him and hung up the phone.
''Maya texted, says she's going to the mall after school and getting dinner with Harper and Camila.''
Where one Romanoff-Petrova went, the other followed. Katya had taken a day off work and sat in the passenger's seat to witness this great moment, her strappy heels lying on the floor by her feet. She'd kicked them off the first half hour of the journey, saying she'd put them on once they got there. In the meantime, she wore slippers, and the looks of people at the gas station they stopped at halfway through their trip was enough for Natasha to have a laugh.
''Did we transfer her clothing money yet this month?''
The redhead glanced to the side, watching Katya type something back to the daughter they left in New York. ''Did that a couple days ago. She should be good.''
Katya hummed, typing for another minute before locking her phone and dropping it into her lap. Her bare, ink-decorated arms flexed as she smoothed her palms over her slicked-back hair, combing back flyaways. Natasha could admire her for hours, which was mostly what she had been doing on the drive, perfectly able to multitask. Traffic was incredibly boring anyways.
''Are you nervous?'' Katya asked, turning to gauge her reaction.
Natasha shrugged, narrowing her eyes in on the traffic. ''It's not that big of a deal.'' But she heard the tension in her voice and realized too late that her expression radiated anything but relaxation. She clenched her jaw, knowing Katya would have spotted it too. And indeed, a knowing smile curled on her wife's lips.
''If you say so.''
''Stop analyzing me,'' Natasha grumbled, scowling at the windshield.
She had thought hard and hesitated a lot on accepting this medal. What she had done was no different than what the average FBI employee did on a workday, but because she was an Avenger, they rushed to give a medal to her.
She could hear the public; ''It's that Avenger again, getting a medal in the White House for doing the bare minimum while we struggle to pay our bills.'' It felt wrong, disgustingly selfish.
But she did spot something suspicious in her research that others probably would have missed. And she did follow that difficult trail all the way down to a man with bad intentions. And she did prevent an attack on the White House and the president. So was it really the bare minimum?
Katya—rightfully—pointed out that she was letting the opinions of others decide her life for her again, and Natasha had decided years ago that she was done with that. So, maybe she did deserve to do something for herself every once in a while, let herself be honored. She deserved that after being hunted by the government for two years after the Accords and getting spit out by everyone multiple times over the years.
If they were choosing to honor her, oh they could honor her alright.
So, she finally let them know she accepted, and here they were.
Katya chuckled, reaching over to pat her knee. ''It will be fine, darling. You just have to stand there and thank the leader of this country.''
''I have some notes for him.''
''Be sure to give him those after you get the medal, so we can bolt if we have to.''
Natasha wasn't the only one being honored today. There were three other people receiving medals for all sorts of reasons, so the elegantly decorated hall had quite a few people in it. Some press mingled with the crowd, a TV camera had been set up in the back, but it still felt like an intimate event, not a circus.
Katya said she was more than fine being the trophy wife; her dress tight, reaching her knees, and her hair pulled back in a low ponytail. She clung onto Natasha's arm, smiling and conversing with people in an effortless way, making them feel comfortable around her.
Truthfully, Natasha was thankful for her. After being away from the public eye for years, she was more restless than she wanted to admit. Even if she didn't care much that the president was the president, she was suddenly with important company again, had to play the part again. But Katya had always been the people person, and that allowed Natasha to drift into the background of small talk her wife made as they circled around the room.
Just after two, she was called to the stage, and she climbed it after Katya pressed an encouraging kiss to her cheek and ensured her suit lay flat. The audience of about sixty people did nothing to make her nervous, and neither did the entrance of the president. It was mostly the TV camera in the back, broadcasting the whole thing to the people of the world. A third of them hated the Avengers with a passion, and Natasha still could not close herself off to their opinions.
''Receiving a Presidential Medal of Freedom, Mrs. Romanoff-Petrova has made an especially meritorious contribution to the security of the United States by detecting a national threat and alerting and aiding our Federal Bureau of Investigation in eliminating this threat.''
Natasha had to be honest; she stopped listening to the president's speech after that, and barely felt it when he stepped behind her to tie the medal around her neck. She could only focus on one thing; Katya in the front row, and the huge smile on her mouth that lit up her whole face.
The brunette nearly jumped up and down in her spot when applause broke out, staring up at her with so much fondness and pride that Natasha felt her cheeks grow hot. She'd often said she was her number one fan, and how could she doubt that after today?
In the end, that's what all this was about anyway. Making herself and her family proud.
For the first time today, the weight on her shoulders lifted.
''Thank you, Sir,'' Natasha managed to say when the president stepped in front of her to shake her hand, blocking her view of her wife. Powerful men had never intimidated her, and he was quite low on the list of powerful people she had encountered in her life, so she gripped his hand confidently.
He shook his head, a kind smile lighting up his warm eyes. ''Thank you. I would not be here if it wasn't for you.''
She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. ''Just doing my job, Sir.''
''Well, keep doing it.''
Poor government. They were so dependent on a retired ex-Russian spy to keep them safe. It was sad.
When Natasha reunited with her wife, she could see that Katya had to contain her reaction around all these people. She impatiently bounced on her toes, pride burned in her eyes, and her lips stretched so wide in a smile that it must hurt her not to squeal. Instead, she threw her arms around the redhead's neck when she was close enough, and poured all those feelings into a lingering kiss.
Such intense, euphoric happiness rushed through Natasha's veins in that moment, that she was sure Katya could feel her racing pulse under her palms. That's when she knew accepting the medal had been the right decision. She deserved to feel this way.
''Looks good on you,'' Katya said when she stepped back, running her fingers over the blue ribbon, down to the golden medallion resting on her sternum, turning it over a couple times. The admiration in her eyes only seemed to grow.
''Think we can sell it for some good money?'' Natasha joked, delighted when Katya let out a light laugh.
''We're not selling it.'' She shook her head with determination, a sly sparkle in her eyes when they connected with Natasha's, her lips pursed. ''It's getting a prominent place in the house so I can show off my hero wife when we have people over.'' She let go of the medal, gently letting it rest against her chest like it was precious.
Natasha chuckled, her palms sliding from Katya's shoulders to her hands, grasping them gently before they could fall back to her sides. ''Oh, I see what I'm good for now.''
A sly smile tugged on Katya's lips, but she shook her head much more seriously, her gaze softening. She intertwined her fingers with Natasha's and gave them a squeeze, her thumb caressing the back of her hand. ''I'm very proud of you. You do what you like, and you also do it incredibly well. You earned that. Wear it with pride.''
Whatever answer Natasha could think of died on her tongue. Nothing felt right as a response to those heart-melting words. Her insides had turned to mush, and she could only blush profoundly, casting her eyes downwards shyly. Giving compliments was her forte, but receiving them was a whole other story. She just knew she couldn't have made it here without Katya's encouragements to pursue her interests and talents.
''My apologies for interrupting.''
Natasha whipped around, clearing her throat as she joined Katya's side. Covering up her red cheeks in front of the president was too late, though. Although he was kind enough not to mention it.
He directed his attention to Katya, an honest smile on his face. ''I had to say hello. My granddaughter will tell me off otherwise. If I am not mistaken, you are...'' He hesitated, as if he was too scared to say the name he was almost certain was right.
Katya extended her hand and gave him a blinding smile that had even the president of the United States enchanted. ''I'm her ex-girlfriend.''
With the president, Katya. Really?
Natasha choked on a nervous laugh, eyeing the poor man's unsure expression. ''You have to stop introducing yourself like that,'' she scolded Katya with a laugh, squeezing her waist playfully as she pulled her into her side. ''She's my wife.''
Katya grinned as the president's shoulders fell in understanding and amusement lit up his features. ''Twelve years and counting. Katya Romanoff-Petrova. Nice to meet you, Sir.''
''I would say the honor is mine.'' He smiled, shaking her hand a couple times before letting go. ''It feels wrong to send you home without one of these for yourself. What you have done for this country is admirable, and I want to thank you– Thank you both, for risking your lives for all of us and this wonderful planet we live on.''
Natasha was starting to grow tired of all these thankyous. She did not want or need them! Especially from politicians who grew up with a silver spoon in their mouths and hadn't needed to lift a finger all their lives. Thank god for Katya's endless patience and perfect acting.
''Just doing our duty, Sir. But if you ever have one of these left over, you know where to find me,'' she joked, throwing in a playful wink for good measure. The man laughed, and even Natasha found herself smiling at the perfectly empty response that instantly cut off the topic. ''Actually, now that I'm speaking with you, Nat and I have some... thoughts and ideas on how to make this country even better.''
''Some''. More like a hundred, Natasha thought. But it was still very bold of Katya to ask. The president looked surprised but not in a bad way, his eyebrows rising on his forehead.
''You know what, why don't I have one of my men give you my contact information so we can set up a meeting? I am certainly interested in hearing what you have to say.''
Katya's smile widened. ''That would be great.''
Maya
''There's one thing I don't understand,'' Camila started. The bus into town jostled with every curb it hit and every manhole cover it crashed over. Even sitting on one of the seats, Maya had to plant her feet firmly on the ground. She loved New York, but nobody could drive.
''Just one?'' Harper teased, sitting turned around in the row before them.
Camila's face fell. ''Hilarious,'' she deadpanned, glaring at Maya when she chuckled along. ''No, what I don't understand is why there's no paps ever following you around?'' Genuine interest shone in her eyes, and Maya understood where it came from. Being ''famous'' usually meant being chased by hunters with flashing cameras, especially in this city, but there was nothing usual about her.
''Oh.'' She felt uneasy, like every time she was made to talk about her privileges in this world. But she masked it with a smile, willing her hands to stay still in her lap. ''Years ago, my uncle Tony threatened to sue all the paps if they ever took a picture of any of us. Nobody has ever dared to call his bluff.''
Camila's eyes widened. That was clearly not the answer she expected. ''Wow, really?'' Maya nodded, and Harper let out an impressed sound.
''That's a boss move.''
Camila agreed with a distracted nod. ''I wouldn't want to get into a legal fight with Tony Stark either.''
''Yeah, and pictures people take of me get removed off the internet the second they are posted, so nobody really knows what I look like.'' Maya shrugged, absentmindedly tapping her phone screen to ensure she hadn't missed any messages from her moms. Her lock screen was empty.
''That makes so much sense,'' Harper breathed, the clogs in her head turning to process and understand it all. There wasn't much to understand, though. Tony wrote an algorithm to protect the Avengers—but their kids first and foremost—and their privacy and let it loose on the internet. It allowed Maya to exist in relative anonymity, apart from everyone at school knowing her face.
The bus screeched to a stop in front of the mall and the three girls rushed out, mentally checking off another day where riding the city bus didn't kill them. A fresh, late-winter breeze blew through their coats, and they hurried to escape the weather and the terribly loud city inside the grand mall, where it was much quieter on a random Tuesday afternoon.
Bright store signs tried to lure them into buying things they didn't need, but they ignored them and took the escalator up to the second level, where the youthful, modern clothing shops were located. Maya felt at ease in the crowds and around her friends, chatting carelessly and blending in effortlessly despite her bright hair. She was a city girl at heart.
''So, what are we looking for today, exactly?'' She asked when the loud music of shop number one welcomed them in. Dressing nice was important to her, but she wasn't a shopaholic like Camila was. Clothes were fun to shop for, but it wasn't an obsession. But shopping for an occasion, like this birthday party on Friday, made even her enthusiastic.
''Anything that will get Tyler to notice me.'' Camila smirked mischievously when her two friends groaned.
''Are you still after him?'' Maya asked exasperatedly, trailing after her to the clothing racks on their right.
''What? He's cute.''
Maya shook her head with a laugh. Tyler was nice, but he hadn't shown any romantic interest in Camila whatsoever. Not that the girl cared. He was cute, so she was too head over heels to see it. ''Did you invite the whole school?'' She joked. But what she really wanted to know is if a certain blonde came.
She realized how much of a hypocrite she was now. Brooklyn was her Tyler. Her mood dropped instantly.
Camila ignored her teasing tone, too distracted with admiring a dress. ''No. Just Tyler and his group, a couple girls from practice, and Brooklyn and her friends.''
Maya's heart skipped a beat, nerves rushing through her stomach. Brooklyn was coming to the party. Suddenly, finding the right thing to wear became much more important.
''That's, like, thirty people,'' Harper scoffed amusedly.
Camila lowered the dress to give her a deadpan stare. ''It's twenty-four, not counting you two.''
That's a lot of people, Maya thought. At least for her introverted self. Luckily, Harper wasn't that fond of people either, so they usually stuck together during these things.
''Okay, okay, I take it back, my bad.'' The girl surrendered, raising her hands. But they all saw the smile on her face and heard the insincerity in her voice, and Maya couldn't help but laugh when Camila grumbled.
''I hate you two.''
Store one ended up being a bust. Camila tried some things on, but it wasn't ''extra enough''—her own words—so they moved on. Store two was much better and had more party appropriate things. Maya had some things in her hands, but noticed Harper picked up a pair of pants she noticed too; jeans with a bejeweled butterfly cut-out on the left thigh.
''That's cute!'' She encouraged. But Harper didn't light up. Instead, her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as she checked the price tag.
''I don't know... It's really expensive.''
Harper didn't have a lot of money to spend. Her mother died when she was little, leaving four kids behind, and her dad never found someone new, so he hustled for what he was worth, trying to provide for all his kids. The girl worked her ass off during the weekends at a local bakery to earn some money, but she was young and pay was low.
She never complained, ever, or showed any distaste towards Maya when it became obvious how rich she was. But Maya had seen her put back clothing with cheap prices, wear shoes with a loose sole for weeks, and skip on food or a drink. It broke her heart, because she knew what it was like to have nothing. Back at the orphanage, all she had was donated, secondhand clothing that was faded or had a hole in it somewhere, rotating the same outfits every three days.
''At least try it on. You can always get it on sale later,'' she pushed gently, hoping that a try-on would change her mind.
Unfortunately, it didn't. While Camila chatted and chatted as they all slipped in and out of their changing rooms, showing off clothes and changing into new ones every five minutes, Harper thought she was being subtle while placing the pants on the return rack despite absolutely loving them.
But she seemed to have forgotten that Maya was a double spy's daughter who picked up on everything. So, when they all ultimately decided on what to buy, leaving the changing rooms behind after a good hour, she couldn't help but snatch the pants up and sneakily pay for them.
Harper didn't notice until they were outside and the shopping bag got pushed into her hands without a word. She stopped, her brows furrowed, confused, until her whole face lit up with a single peek inside. That bright smile was worth every damn dollar.
''Oh my god, are you serious?'' She breathed in disbelief, happiness bursting from her eyes.
Maya nodded nervously, rocking on her heels. ''I hope it's okay. They looked really good on you.'' The last thing she wanted was to make her feel like a poor charity case, because let's be honest, nobody liked receiving pity, so this may well turn out to be a big mistake. But it came from the goodness of her heart, and she hoped Harper knew that.
Warmth rose to the girl's cheeks at the compliment, and if she was a hugger, this was the part where she would give Maya a hug. ''Thank you so much. I can never repay you for this.''
''I don't want to be repaid. You're my friend, it's a gift.'' She smiled. And to her great relief, Harper appeared only grateful.
Katya
Driving up and down to D.C. in a day was no joke. They'd gotten home at around eight-thirty, half an hour after Maya did, and after Katya stuffed herself full with Chinese takeout, she took a shower and collapsed on the couch for her Tuesday night reality TV marathon. It was the one designated night of the week where she spent the evening apart from her wife until they went to bed.
It was something they came up with about a year ago, when they figured out they needed at least one night a week where they could have some alone time. It worked perfectly. Natasha usually went upstairs after dinner, showered, and read in bed until Katya came up. Or she worked on her laptop. And Katya watched her reality TV downstairs, taking up the whole couch and stuffing her face with snacks.
She was particularly invested in tonight's episode when a pair of footsteps thundered down the stairs. She hoped, prayed, begged that Maya didn't need her, because a full-on fight was going on on screen that had her on the edge of her seat. But that hope flew out the window when the girl rounded the coffee table, nearly blocking Katya's view, and stared at her straight-on.
''Mom? Cam's throwing a party for her birthday Friday night. Can I go?''
Katya didn't even look at her as she said simply, ''Ask your mom.''
''She told me to ask you.''
Damn it, Natasha.
A particularly loud yell came from the TV, and Maya turned around with her eyebrows raised, watching in distaste. ''Are you still watching this dumb–''
''Watch it,'' Katya cut her off, narrowing her eyes at the girl warningly. ''With that attitude, you're certainly not going.'' Maya smothered her smile, nodding compliantly. Katya sighed through her nose at the adorable sight of her. ''Honey, it's your friend, it's her birthday, and it's the weekend. Of course, you can go. Are you sleeping over? Cause if not, home by–''
''Home by one, yes, yes. I will get back to you on that.'' Maya beamed, clasping her hands together excitingly. ''Thank you.'' Her asking for permission was a formality anyway. They never stopped her from going anywhere unless it was absolutely dangerous or they didn't trust it.
She was about to rush off until Katya stopped her, grabbing the TV remote to turn down the volume. ''Hey! Did you buy anything nice today?''
Maya stopped at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes lighting up like she suddenly remembered she completely forgot to show off her new clothes. ''Yes! I will show you. One second.'' And her thunderous footsteps raced back up the stairs. No matter how often they told her not to run on the stairs, she never listened.
Barely a minute later, she stood before Katya again, the price tag still dangling from the new top she wore. It was a deep purple, sheer chiffon wrap top with long, puffy sleeves. It stopped at her belly button and had the finest shimmery thread running through it. Perfect for a birthday party, especially with the right jewelry.
Katya swung her legs off the couch to sit up straight, her TV show completely forgotten. ''Oh, I love that! Very nice color on you.'' She beckoned a beaming Maya closer and gestured for her to do a spin. ''How much?''
''Twenty-five dollars.''
''Not bad, not bad.'' Katya nodded, impressed. Her daughter had not gotten her expensive taste in the clothing department, at least. ''How many people are coming to this party?''
Maya's smile fell. ''Around thirty.''
''Yikes.'' Katya grimaced. ''People you know at least?''
''Not well, but I know who they are.'' Maya dropped onto the couch with a sigh, her attention drawn to the TV now that she faced it. Even with the sound low, it was obvious the people on screen were fighting. She perked up a bit, amused. ''Have they been yelling at each other like that for an hour?''
''Yeah.'' Katya grinned, kicking her feet up on the coffee table and offering her the chips bowl. Spending her alone-time-evening with Maya didn't sound too bad. ''It's incredibly entertaining.''
Maya copied her and claimed the snacks for herself. ''What happened?''
''See that girl with the blonde hair and the white bikini? She slept with the guy with the horrible sunbed tan and black shorts. Terrible taste, by the way–''
They didn't leave the couch until eleven, when all episodes ended. It was way too late, considering Maya had school the next day, but they were having too much fun giving unhinged commentary nobody asked for. Besides, Katya didn't know how many of these evenings she would still get with her daughter. There would come a point where Maya lost interest and had other things to do; homework, dates, hanging out with friends, sports.
But she tried not to think about that too much when she said goodnight and pressed a kiss to her head when Maya finally lay in bed, Liho curled up by her feet. The cat's sometimes arch enemy, sometimes best friend—a certain three-legged, demon, ginger ball of fur—welcomed Katya in her own bedroom, where Natasha was still reading quietly, her legs under the covers and her hair cascading down her shoulders in messy waves.
''Easy parenting?'' was the first thing Katya asked as she closed the door, raising her eyebrows questioningly.
Natasha looked up from her book, eyebrows furrowing. ''No...?'' But she wasn't fooling anyone with the way the corners of her mouth curled up teasingly. Sending Maya to Katya had been to mess with her. ''You just do it so much better.''
''You're a damn liar,'' Katya said, purposely closing the bathroom door as she went in to brush her teeth. She couldn't see the annoying smirk on her wife's face in the reflection of the mirror that way. It only delayed the inevitable, though, because it was still there when she came out of the bathroom, ten minutes later.
''How was your show?'' Natasha mused, her eyes twinkling because she knew she was getting on the brunette's last nerve.
Katya side-eyed her bitterly as she got into bed. ''Interrupted, thanks to you.''
''I could hear you two laughing from up here.''
It was true, Katya had fun tonight, and she didn't mind being interrupted by Maya. But she couldn't roll over and show her belly so easily every time Natasha messed with her, could she?
''Yes, we had a lot of fun without you, thanks,'' she said dryly, fluffing up her pillow behind her. Faintly, she registered the thud as Natasha threw her book on the nightstand, but in no way did she have time to prepare before her wife suddenly lay on her stomach between her legs, smirking up at her with mischief.
Katya stiffened, looking down at her wide-eyed, shocked when Natasha pushed her shirt up and started leaving kisses on her stomach. They were slow, well-placed, and clearly meant to tempt her into forgetting about her anger, judging by the way Natasha held eye-contact the whole time, waiting for a reaction.
''Don't be petty,'' she told her off, her breath fanning over Katya's skin. Goosebumps rose in its path, and Katya's insides twitched involuntarily as she sunk back against the pillows. Natasha had this effect on her body, even if she wished she didn't.
The kisses subtly started to trail lower, to the very waistband of her pajama pants, and it became all the more clear what Natasha was out for.
''If you think you're getting any, you're delusional.'' Katya scoffed, scowling angrily, but she didn't push her away. So, Natasha grew bolder and licked a line from the waistband to her belly button, making Katya's face scrunch up in disgust. ''Get your nasty tongue off my stomach.''
But her voice didn't sound as steady as she wished it did, and Natasha heard it too. She smirked into her skin.
''Are you sure?''
''Yes.''
Katya cursed under her breath. Her tone had raised a few octaves. Ironic how she was now literally showing her belly.
''How sure are you?'' Natasha mused, her hands gently gripping Katya's bare waist while her lips kept finding new spots to kiss. She wasn't even doing anything overly sensual, yet Katya felt her legs go weak anyway. She was not planning on giving in, though.
''Like a ten out of ten.''
''That is quite sure.'' Natasha's fingers wrapped around the waistband of Katya's pants, nails scratching her skin purposely at the same time she dipped her tongue into her bellybutton. Enough to drive the brunette crazy.
''Fuck.'' Katya breathed, the curse slipping from her lips before she allowed it to. Her attempt to mask it with an increasingly dangerous scowl afterwards was pitiful at best, but she hated the smug glimmer in her wife's eyes. ''What I'm not sure of is if you get to sleep in this bed tonight.''
''Oh, no,'' Natasha pouted, finally letting up on her assault and resting her chin on Katya's stomach to look at her. ''What can I do to change your mind?''
Katya stared at her, really stared at her, for a long moment, eyes narrowed at her sarcastic tone. She really had a love-hate relationship with this side of Natasha, especially when she lay there patiently, smiling, waiting, knowing she had her. But there was something cute about it, too.
''I hate you."
''I know.'' Natasha grinned, but it still wasn't a definitive answer, so she kept waiting.
Katya narrowed her eyes further as a final act of rebellion before sighing defeatedly. ''Apologize and I will consider it.''
Natasha rushed to do so, excitement and anticipation written all over her face. Like a dog who could see the treats he was about to get but not before performing some tricks. ''I'm very sorry I sent Maya to you and interrupted your shows.''
''And...?''
''I'm sorry I teased you and was all smug about it.''
''And?'' Katya pressed, her eyebrow raised. It made her somewhat feel in power still.
''I love you, you're very sexy, please let me make it up to you," Natasha rambled in a long breath, growing impatient. The treat had dangled in front of her nose for too long now.
It was a half-assed apology at best, not truly coming from the heart. Because Natasha had only one thing in mind; the spot between Katya's legs that she loved so much and wanted to spend all her time working at.
But Katya found that such a turn on that she sighed excessively, giving in once and for all.
''Hurry, I'm tired.''
The way Natasha's face lit up with celebratory excitement and amusement was nearly comical, and Katya had to suppress a smile at the sight of it.
''Whatever my pillow princess wants.''
Katya just pushed her head under the covers, finally freed from having to see that smug face. Unfortunately, it didn't muffle Natasha's laugh.
~~~~~~~~
A/N: I love writing Maya. It's so freeing to have the pov switch and write her story, it gives me a lot of inspriation and motivation. Besides, she's really fun and adorable and I love her. We'll mostly be following her story as she grows in life and experiences all these firsts. I have so many ideas, it's going to be so cute. I think the next chapters will have this format a lot, with the pov switches :) Anyway, happy weekend! Hope you enjoyed.