March 12, 2028
Natasha
Natasha squinted at the information on screen, clicking furiously from one document to the other and occasionally scribbling something down on the paper by her hand. The case she'd taken last week continued to be a brain twister.
When Katya left for work this morning, and Maya rushed out the door to catch the bus, she had locked herself in her office—the guest room which had turned into her work office over the past two years—and only came out to use the bathroom or get something to eat.
She didn't remember reaching out to flick the desk lamp on when the light started to fade outside, but it was well past five when a soft knock on the door startled her out of her concentration. Her eyes were dry, her throat scratchy, and her muscles stiff, but she managed a smile at the sight of her wife peeking in, her figure blurry until she blinked furiously.
"Oh, hey, honey." Natasha's voice held surprise. It felt like she'd only sat down an hour ago. "Are you home already?"
Katya's smile faltered, realization creeping into her features, and Natasha cringed a bit, knowing she was about to get scolded. And rightfully so. She had not been looking after herself at all today, the evidence of that written all over her and her desk. No empty plates that indicated she'd been eating, no empty cups or mugs, and her skin pale for lack of sunlight.
"It's been eight hours since I left, love." Katya stepped further into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Natasha uncrossed her legs when it became clear that she wanted to sit on her lap. And she did, sideways and with a soft sigh, looping her arms around Natasha's neck. Her nails scratched gently at the back of it, but her eyes were filled with concern. "You need to take better care of yourself when I'm not home."
Natasha looked away, down at her desk, feeling a bit like a hypocrite after always being the one drilling Katya to take care of herself. "I know, I know." Her hand settled on Katya's back, absentmindedly running her fingertips up and down her spine. She was too tired to argue or give a witty reply.
Katya must have noticed and decided to go easy on her, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Are you any closer?" She asked, eyeing the computer screen and all the papers scattered around.
An involuntary sigh escaped Natasha's lips. "Not much." She took off her blue light glasses and rubbed her eye with the back of her hand, feeling a headache coming up. But instant relief came when the hand in her neck slid up into her hair, massaging her scalp with experienced precision, and she nearly started purring like a cat.
"You'll get it," Katya said without doubt, smiling down at her.
The chair creaked when Natasha leaned back in it, looking up at Katya's relaxed face. Her blue eyes were soft, curious, attentive, awaiting Natasha's next words patiently. "How was work?"
"Good." The brunette perked up slightly. "Had some cake because it was someone's birthday."
"Oh, is that what you do at work all day? Eat cake?" Natasha teased, her hand sliding from Katya's spine to her side, holding her closer over the fabric of her hoodie. She smelled good; a distinctive mix of laundry detergent, deodorant and the gym.
"Sometimes," Katya admitted, her gaze flickering briefly to Natasha's lips as they curved into a wider smile. More serious and shy, she added, "I danced again too, on my break."
Surprised, the redhead's eyebrows shot up. "You did?" Rarely, if ever, Katya danced. Or at least what she told Natasha about. Last she heard about it was more than a year ago.
Katya hummed and got her phone from her pocket. She tapped on it, turned it ninety degrees, and then held it up for them both to see. She'd filmed herself, her phone propped up on something.
At first, Natasha only looked at an empty room—not Katya's usual room, she noticed, as the floor padding wasn't in this one—but then her wife ran into frame and settled into the middle right as the music started.
She'd chosen a classic; a routine they'd done so many times they could do it in their sleep, drilled into their brains for all eternity. That didn't mean, however, that Katya slacked off or put any less power and energy into it. It was nothing short of captivating, even for someone with an untrained eye, and Natasha stared at it with amazement until the video ended.
She shook her head with disbelief when Katya placed her phone on the desk, newfound admiration bubbling under her skin. That always happened when something threw her back to memories of Katya as a young girl. "You look as good and elegant as the day I met you."
A shy blush colored Katya's cheeks pink, but a tint of self-confidence glistened in her eyes. "My bones may be old now, but I got some tricks left in me," she said, adjusting Natasha's necklace so it lay flat against her chest. "Maybe you could come with me sometime and we can dance together? It's a good stress relief."
It was a careful proposal, just an idea thrown out there, but Natasha felt hesitant. First, she hadn't danced in a long time, and second, it was more of a private thing, something to do behind closed doors.
"I don't know..."
"Just think about it." Katya waved away any pressure of having to decide right away, her smile so soft the other woman felt herself melt into the chair. "We can go anytime and the door locks so nobody has to see."
Natasha narrowed her eyes knowingly. "You really want me to, don't you?" She laughed when Katya pulled a guilty face.
"Like I said, I think it'll be good for you."
One of her hands threaded back into Natasha's hair and slowly combed through the long locks from root to end before repeating the process. Natasha had to fight to keep her eyes open, the motion incredibly relaxing and her mind more tired than she realized.
"Is this one of those moments where the wife knows best?" She teased lightly.
"No, I always know best. But this time I know better than best. Bestest." Katya grinned at her stupid joke.
Natasha snorted and dropped her forehead onto her wife's shoulder, allowing her eyes to close. A deep breath left her lungs and her shoulders drooped. She could sleep like this, taking for granted the stiff neck and aching butt later.
Carefully, Katya cradled her head to her chest, kissing her hair. Her stable heartbeat pounded under Natasha's ear, lulling her further away. "I'm sorry, baby," she mumbled. "I'm blabbering nonsense and that's probably the last thing you want right now."
"Don't mind me, I like listening to you talk," Natasha muttered. But her voice was muffled into Katya's hoodie and sounded sleepier than she hoped it would have.
"Is that why you fall asleep in the middle of it?"
Despite not seeing it, Natasha could hear her teasing smile. "It's soothing me."
Katya's chest shook, but when Natasha's head was brought up from it, two hands cupping her cheeks to keep it up, all she found was an amused expression on the brunette's face and love in her eyes. She felt a bit like a tired child after a long day of school being tended to by their mom.
"Why don't we get something to eat—there's Indian takeout downstairs, if Maya hasn't eaten it all by now—and then some fresh air and exercise by taking an evening walk, and then call it a night early?" Natasha swooned when Katya's thumbs started caressing her cheekbones. "Because you look exhausted, my love."
That nickname... Natasha wanted nothing more than to give in and let herself be taken care of, but this case was really bugging her, and she thought she could still get somewhere today. Her face contorted into an apologetic grimace. "I was actually hoping to get some more wo–"
Katya shut her up with a simple glare, lightly squeezing her cheeks together. "You better not say what I think you were about to say. Game nights are date nights, you know this." Her eyes kept narrowing, and Natasha's persistence kept crumbling, but the redhead persevered. "Just give in, Talia."
Natasha stayed strong for another moment, but who was she kidding here?
"I guess sleeping does sound good," she mumbled, hating the small grin that spread across Katya's face. Same as affectionate nicknames such as darling or honey, that abbreviation of her birth name got to her. And Katya knew that.
The brunette softly kissed her forehead. So soft that she swore she died. "Just looking out for you. Don't want you burning yourself out," she told her lovingly, tipping Natasha's head back slightly so she could look better into her eyes.
Natasha sighed, squeezing Katya's waist. "I know. I appreciate it."
"Alright." Katya pressed a kiss to her lips as a finality. "Come on. If Maya ate all the samosas, she's dead."
Maya
Maya didn't mind driving in the city, but she was very relieved to find a parking spot close to Brooklyn's apartment building without getting a single scratch on her car along the way.
Her real nerves were for what came next, her heart racing as she walked up to the row of buzzers next to the front door, the building reminding her a lot of Aunt May and Peter's apartment building. It was on the edge of the city, a fifteen-minute drive from home in the wrong direction of school. A detour, but Brooklyn didn't need to know that yet.
It took her a second to find the buzzer with her friend's—her friend's!—name on it. And only when she pushed it did she realize she knew nothing about Brooklyn's home situation and who else was at risk of answering her. Were her parents home, her siblings? Did she even have siblings? Luckily, the voice of the girl itself rang through the crackling speaker.
''Hey! I'll buzz you in. Second floor, apartment 203, if you want to come up.''
Her voice was cheery as ever, and Maya found herself smiling and relaxing at the sound of it. ''Thank you!''
She used the stairs until she stood in front of apartment 203, as indicated by the numbers next to the door. There wasn't a doorbell, so she knocked, and the door swung open instantly. Brooklyn looked phenomenal, as always.
They'd been texting here and there during the week, quickly moving on from planning this night to other topics that had nothing to do with it, and Maya had cursed herself for perking up every time her phone chimed. But nothing beat seeing her in the flesh, outside of school, where bells didn't control the way they spent their time.
''Hi,'' Maya said shyly, fiddling with the car keys in her hand.
Brooklyn smiled brightly. ''Hey. Give me a sec to find my shoes.'' She disappeared but left the door open, and Maya took that as an invitation to enter, lingering in the hallway. The apartment was a bit smaller than Peter's, decorated more simply and with less of an artistic eye. Everything had its purpose and that was it, but it didn't feel any less homey, there were lots of personal items like holiday souvenirs and picture frames.
''Are you home alone?'' She asked into the silence, only hearing Brooklyn shuffle around in another room. No pets, no signs of other life. Maya was nervous about striking up a conversation, but she tried to be casual and confident.
''It's just me and my dad, and he has some sort of office party.'' That explained the plain decorating. It lacked a female touch.
''You're an only child, too?''
''Uhu.'' Brooklyn appeared in front of her again, shoes on her feet and her phone in her hand, throwing her hair back over her shoulder. The smile on her face hadn't left. ''My parents divorced when I was a year old, and my mom moved to Arizona. I haven't seen her since and we barely talk, but I'm okay with it, my dad is amazing.''
The ease with which she spoke about it told Maya that she really was okay with it. She probably didn't even remember her mother, seeing as how young she was when she left. But still, it sucked to miss that bond. Maya spent a few years of her life knowing exactly how that felt.
''I'm glad you have him,'' she said timidly. And she knew she'd said the right thing when she got the softest grateful smile back. That's one thing she knew she was good at; empathy. Putting herself in other people's shoes and knowing what they needed to hear. It caused a sense of pride. ''What does he do for work?''
Brooklyn swung her coat over her shoulders and made sure to lock the door securely behind her before they made their way towards the stairs, side by side. ''I'm not quite sure, but he sits in one of those cubicles all day.'' Her nose scrunched up. ''Sucks the life out of me just thinking about it.''
Maya let out an airy chuckle at her dramatics. ''Same.'' She hurried forwards to push open and hold the door towards the stairwell, getting another grateful smile that twisted her insides around. She kept having to mentally pinch herself that she was here picking up and casually hanging out with a fairly popular girl—and her crush. ''What do you want to be later, if you've thought about it?''
''I'm thinking teacher. My cousin is five, and they're just so cute at that age. So probably elementary school.'' The blonde's eyes gleamed enthusiastically just talking about it, and she had a general likability to her that kids would love. Maya didn't doubt that she was good with them too. She had all the ingredients for a good teacher. ''You?'' She cocked her head with interest.
''A vet.'' Maya used the excuse of going downstairs to look at her feet instead of Brooklyn's intense gaze. If she didn't, she may miss a step and tumble down two flights of stairs. Not the second impression she hoped to make. ''I love animals.''
Brooklyn smiled as enthusiastically as she had done a second before. ''I can totally see that,'' she said honestly, and that was about the best compliment she could have possibly given. Maya had to fight off a blush. ''Have any pets yourself?''
''Two cats. An orange one and a black one.''
''The orange one from your profile picture?'' She guessed, and Maya tried not to think about the fact that she knew what her profile picture looked like. Instead, she nodded. ''He's cute! What's his name?''
''Mimosa.''
''Mimosa like the drink?'' A beautiful laugh tumbled past Brooklyn's lips, echoing in the foyer they'd just stepped in. It was noticeably colder down here than up in the apartment, but Maya felt warm all over. ''Who came up with that?''
''He already had it when we got him from the shelter,'' Maya smiled sheepishly, pushing the building's front door open. A cold breeze hit them in the face, not making it particularly nice weather to play in, but Maya was more concerned about Brooklyn getting cold while watching her. ''We weren't planning on getting another cat. My mom actually wanted a goat, but my other mom told her it would mysteriously disappear overnight if she got one.''
As soon as the last word left her mouth, Maya glued her lips shut. She got too comfortable, forgot they barely knew each other, and rambled without thinking if it was weird. Because it was a bit weird to say something like that to a girl she'd only talked to for a few days.
She shoved her hands into her pockets and trained her gaze to the concrete beneath her feet.
But Brooklyn wasn't just anyone. She was a bit weird too—her own words. And after taking a brief moment to process, a wholehearted laugh burst from her throat. The corners of her eyes crinkled and the faintest dimples appeared in her cheeks. ''Would she do it?''
Maya whipped her head up in surprise, a huge smile spreading across her face and her heart racing at the sound. ''The answer is yes, no matter who you meant.'' Because her moms were crazy, in a good way.
The blonde chuckled, shaking her head as she buried herself further into her coat to battle the cold. Maya walked towards the car a bit faster. ''They sound fun.''
''They are," Maya agreed fondly. "The goat never happened, though.''
Brooklyn narrowed her eyes teasingly. ''Didn't it? Or did it keep disappearing before you could see it?''
''I don't usually go into the backyard, so who knows.'' Maya grinned, again getting rewarded with a laugh. Minute by minute, she eased further into the conversation, breathed a bit easier, and didn't overthink as much. It certainly helped that Brooklyn appeared so at ease.
They'd made it to the car by now, the color a lot uglier under artificial streetlights, but the vehicle itself not any less beautiful. Maya manually unlocked it, feeling very watched with her friend so close by, before shyly holding the passenger seat door open for her.
It may be a bit much, but manners and chivalry were what her moms unconsciously taught her—amongst other, slightly more illegal things—and Brooklyn appeared pleasantly surprised because of it, her eyebrows high on her forehead.
''Wow, thanks! Nobody has ever held a door for me before, and we're not even on a date.''
Redness flushed Maya's face. She ducked her head, trying to cover it up with a smile, but Brooklyn didn't even seem to notice her state, stepping into the car graciously. And believe this; Maya was in a state, her brain so scrambled she couldn't come up with anything to say or do other than carefully close the door, feeling like a witty response would have been a better way to react.
But who could blame her? If the person you had a crush on casually mentioned dating, anyone would be a flustered mess, trying very hard not to be obvious about any hoarded feelings.
Maya prayed her expression looked somewhat normal as she crawled behind the wheel, turning over the key to bring the engine to life. Luckily, Brooklyn was too busy looking around, admiring every inch of the inside of the car with amazement in her eyes.
''This car truly is incredible,'' she breathed, her eyebrows furrowing when Maya plugged a cable into her phone before scrolling through Spotify. It didn't take a genius to know that these cars originally certainly did not have an AUX. ''Wait, how is your phone connected to it?''
Sheepishly, Maya called out, ''FRIDAY?''
Brooklyn only appeared more confused, adorably so, until the digital voice poured from the speakers, making her jump.
''Yes, Maya?''
''Uh, where did that come from?'' She looked around, frozen in place.
''It's a UI.'' Maya chuckled. ''My uncle put it in.''
''What does your uncle do for a living?''
How to explain the phenomenon that was Tony Stark? He was a bit of everything; a mechanic, an engineer, a physicist, a genius, an idiot. Maya figured the best way to answer her question was to just say,
''He's Tony Stark.'' She hated the feelings that came with the topic of her famous and rich family, convinced everyone thought she was bragging all the time, so she covered it up with a question, busy scrolling through her playlists. ''What do you want to listen to?''
Brooklyn absentmindedly shook her head, too busy wrapping her head around what she'd just learned. ''Whatever you were listening to on the way here is fine. I'm honestly still trying to process–'' The first notes of the song stopped her mid-sentence. She visibly perked up in her seat, Tony Stark completely forgotten. ''Oh! Is that Taylor Swift?''
''You're a fan?'' Maya asked, surprised yet delighted. She'd just done what the girl said and continued her playlist of Blondie's favorite songs.
''Uh, yeah?!" Brooklyn exclaimed. "My dad surprised me with floor seats to her last tour and I screamed the lyrics so loud that night that I didn't have a voice for a week."'
Maya beamed, turning her body further in her direction while her voice raised several joyful octaves. ''Which night did you go?''
''You went too?! I was night two.''
''Night one.'' The redhead grinned, knowing she got better surprise songs. Brooklyn must have realized that, too, because she groaned. ''Did you go with your dad?''
''Yes. I made him get dressed up to match me." Her face lit up at the memory. "Honestly, I think he had the time of his life. I have video evidence of him singing on the top of his lungs.''
Maya laughed at the mental image, curious to see that footage. ''On your phone?'' She asked.
Brooklyn perked up, catching on to her tone. ''Do you want to see?''
''Eh, yes, of course?'' Maya replied like it was the most obvious thing, causing the blonde to chuckle as she pulled out her phone.
Her dad had indeed dressed up, glitter makeup on his cheeks that he didn't seem bothered by, a dozen friendship bracelets around his wrists, a cowboy hat on his head. He looked like one of those fun dads, always laughing, supporting his daughter's interest without mocking them, full of dumb jokes. Maya wouldn't mind meeting him.
Brooklyn showed her pictures too, of her own outfit; a short pastel, sequined dress with cowboy boots. She looked phenomenal, her high ponytail tied up with a big pink ribbon, sparkles and glitter all over her face. She could have stepped straight out of a cliché teen movie in which she played the beautiful and popular cheerleader every girl wanted to be and every boy wanted to be with. But the kind version.
Maya had a hard time responding casually to seeing the photo.
Of course, Brooklyn demanded to see pictures of Maya too, and she wasn't about to be a buzzkill, so she did. She'd matched outfits with her moms, and Brooklyn found that absolutely adorable while at the same time chuckling at the sight of two Avengers all dressed up for a pop concert.
Conversation flowed freely afterwards, now that they'd found another common interest. Brooklyn had the confidence to sing along to the chorus of some songs, but Maya pretended to be too busy with traffic to join in. Her singing voice was terrible, and this relationship between them was a bit too new to not feel embarrassed about it. But she was more than happy just to listen and sneak glances at the passenger's seat. Brooklyn looked even better sitting there than she'd hoped.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to the school, fifteen minutes too late. The coach wanted the girls to be there an hour before the first whistle, but it was now just forty-five minutes until the start of the game and Maya just rolled up. Being late absolutely wasn't her, but she couldn't be bothered today. Besides, another teammate of hers also just ran into the parking lot.
''Hey, Elle!''
The girl stopped and turned at the call of her name. ''Oh, hey!'' Maya saw the curiosity in her eyes. Brooklyn had just gotten out of her car, after all, and almost everyone knew Brooklyn. ''Are you ready for tonight?''
''Hope so.'' Maya smiled, and she really did, because she had no clue how Brooklyn being here would affect her game. ''You go ahead, I'll be right there.'' When Elle walked off, Maya turned back to the blonde, gripping onto the strap of her sports bag tightly. She hated having to leave her to sit alone, feeling slightly guilty about it, but it was her own suggestion to come watch. ''This is where I go the other way. The game should start in forty-five minutes,'' she said timidly. Her confidence had not followed her out of the car.
Brooklyn tilted her head, a trace of confusion on her face. ''What about your moms? Are they not coming?''
''Oh,'' it caught Maya off guard, shifting in her spot, ''I prefer it if they're not here. They're, eh...'' She took a deep breath, finding nothing but kindness and patience in Brooklyn's eyes. It was enough to give her the push to tell the truth, smiling weakly. ''I just managed to make everyone stop staring at me. I like being invisible.''
That felt good to say, surprisingly so. She'd never actually said the words out loud, but she wasn't sure if anyone knew just how much being an Avengers' daughter influenced her life. Part of her felt like an ungrateful bitch for just thinking that. Millions of kids would kill to be in her position.
But did that mean she couldn't have her own struggles? It wasn't all rainbows and sunshine like everyone thought.
Brooklyn's eyes softened. ''You couldn't be invisible if you wanted to,'' she said softly.
Maya's heart skipped a beat. What did that mean?
The girl seemed to realize what she'd said, paling slightly, and averted her gaze. ''What I mean is that you should invite them. They're your parents.'' She cleared her throat and straightened up, smiling like nothing had happened. ''Anyway, I should find a seat. Good luck out there.''
''Thank you,'' Maya managed to say, her brain still trying to process what had just been said and what that meant. So badly did she want to mule over it, but time wasn't on her side.
Her eyes followed Brooklyn all the way to the stairs until her figure disappeared from view, and then she ran off to the locker room, her sports bag bouncing against her hip.
Coach was not happy with her late arrival, but after a brief scolding moved on like it never happened. Maya got changed, pulling her socks up well over her knees to hopefully provide some warmth—it was a chilly winter evening—and then sat down for strategy talk, zipping her training hoodie up to her chin.
Only half of what the coach said actually got absorbed into her brain. Something about defensive positions they practiced in training. Maya just wanted to get out there, start the warmup so she could find Brooklyn in the stands before the place got too crowded. A blonde in a black coat was hard to make out in a sea of people wearing the same.
Eventually, she was let loose, and accompanied by loud music from the speakers entered the field, a ball at her foot. Desperately, she clung onto her dignity and didn't immediately turn around to scan the stands. No, first she dribbled to the middle circle and back, and then looked up, trying not to embarrass herself by searching for too long.
But she didn't need to.
Brooklyn sat in the front row, waving with her hand high in the air to make herself known, her bright smile visible from all the way down on the ground.
Warmth pooled in Maya's chest as she waved back, happiness coursing through her veins. Camila and Harper often came to watch, too, but they were her friends, that was different. Brooklyn had never watched before, she was especially here for her, to cheer her on. Maya felt her cheeks heat up at the thought.
She was determined to play well, the extra spectator a drive to run faster and give even sharper passes. And so she did.
Was it the game of her lifetime? No. But she played well and gave the assist that led to the winning goal. And as she celebrated with her teammates with a clumsy group hug, she looked over her shoulder at the grandstand and felt weirdly flustered at the sight of Brooklyn cheering excessively, standing in front of her seat, applauding.
It felt really special to have her there, and Maya felt too light to stop her mind from imagining her there in the stands more often. To hopefully convince her of that, the redhead had someone bring Brooklyn a cup of hot chocolate during the half-time break when she herself was stuck in more strategy talks in the locker room, not wanting her guest to freeze her fingers off.
After the final whistle sounded across the field, she ditched her teammates and the celebrations to instead find Brooklyn in the crowds, feeling like that was the right thing to do. Attendance was good today, but it made it harder to find her, until she suddenly appeared in front of Maya, nearly causing them to bump into each other.
"Oh, hey!" Brooklyn's nose was red, as were her cheeks, but the cold didn't stop her from being cheery. "Good game, congrats!"
''Thank you." Maya beamed, adrenaline still pumping through her body. It made her bolder, she could feel it. "I'm sorry, I'm really sweaty.'' She chuckled, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, really hoping she smelled like the cold and not like sweat but fully convinced she looked like a tomato anyway.
''You're good,'' Brooklyn assured her with a laugh. ''Nice cross-pass.'' The surprise must be too obvious on Maya's face, because the girl's smile widened smugly. ''My dad prefers soccer over football. We watch a game together every Sunday.''
Maya's eyebrows shot up, amusement twinkling in her eyes. ''Then why is this your first time watching a game of ours?''
''How are you so sure it is?'' The blonde countered instantly.
''Because I would have noticed you.''
Oh, my god, she did not mean for it to sound flirty. Not at all. But it did, she couldn't deny it, and now Brooklyn was the one caught off guard, surprise on her face—and was that a blush? How she interpreted those words was her problem, though, not Maya's, because Maya refused to let them linger in the air.
"Didn't you freeze to death?"
Brooklyn shook her head, blinking at the topic change. "I can handle the cold. You're the one in shorts." She laughed, nodding to Maya's half-bare legs.
''Yeah.'' The girl grimaced, feeling the cold wind start to dry her sweaty body too fast. She desperately needed to get her muscles warm and run away from the weirdness she'd created. ''Let me shower and change and I'll drive you home.''
"Don't rush, I'll wait."
But Maya did rush, because she didn't want to let her wait outside any longer. Brooklyn had been sitting on her ass waiting for a whole two hours by now, and despite what she said, the cold must have settled deep into her bones, only fixable with an insanely hot, long shower.
So within ten minutes, the fastest Maya had ever scrubbed her body clean of sweat and changed back into normal clothes, she found Brooklyn again, waiting right outside the locker room. She pushed off the wall and pocketed her phone, that beautiful smile finding its way onto her flushed cheeks again.
Once more, Maya got hit with a wave of derealization.
''Thank you for waiting,'' she said, the keys in her hand jingling as she led the way to the car. ''Sorry it took so long.'' A drop of water slid from her wet hair down the back of her neck, making her shiver. She desperately wanted to crawl under her warm bed covers.
''Are you kidding? Sometimes I take showers so long my dad cuts off the heating to get me out.'' Brooklyn chuckled, falling into stride next to her.
Maya laughed. ''They say cold showers are good for you, though.''
''Could be, but I like mine scorching hot.''
Scorching hot was also the heat blasting from the car's air vents on the way home, until Maya felt she was about to suffocate, and Brooklyn made a joke about how snakes could probably comfortably survive in this environment.
They talked less and listened more to the music, but since they were both tired, it felt surprisingly nice. The whole evening, Maya had felt surprisingly comfortable. So, when she parked in front of Brooklyn's apartment building, she was sad it was over. But it seemed she wasn't the only one.
Brooklyn's shoulders fell. ''Here we are.'' She sighed, unbuckling her seat belt.
Before any sort of goodbye could fall from her lips, though, Maya said, ''I'll walk you up.'' It felt rude to just kick her out of the car right here on the street anyway. Not very polite, not very Romanoff-Petrova approved, and she wanted to extend the night as much as she could.
Pleasant surprise flashed across the blonde's face. ''A gentlewoman,'' she teased. Maya just got out of the car before she could see the blush on her cheeks.
The walk upstairs was silent, except for their shoes on the stairs echoing in the stairwell. It was a nice building, clean. Not super luxe and not very dated, right in the middle. But Maya secretly loved the coziness of buildings and apartments like these and like Peter's. Don't get her wrong, her house was cozy and nice too, but small apartments had their own charm.
The girls came to a stop in front of the apartment door, and Brooklyn fiddled with her keys as she turned to Maya, a hint of shyness in her demeanor. Her cheeks were still rosy, but that could have a dozen reasons. ''I had a lot of fun tonight. You were really good. Not that I expected anything else.''
''Thanks.'' Maya smiled timidly, forcing herself to look into her gentle blue eyes. She wished she could have seen how the girl had behaved up there in the stands, if she'd really been as fanatical as she suspected she was. ''Thank you for coming. It was nice to have someone there.''
Brooklyn smiled. ''I'd love to watch again, if you'll have me.''
Maya's heart skipped a happy beat. ''Of course. Just tell me when.''
''I'll text you?''
''Okay.'' She nodded, hoping it didn't look too eager.
Brooklyn was about to put her key in the lock when the door swung open. They both jumped, surprised by the sudden movement, and then stared straight into the face of the girl's dad. He had not changed at all from those concert videos, and Maya found it a bit weird that she'd already seen this man, who she was yet to be introduced to, with glitter on his face.
''Girls!'' He exclaimed happily. ''I thought I heard something. You must be Maya.''
''I am.'' She gave a kind smile, offering her hand for him to shake. Grown-ups, she could handle. Girls she had crushes on, not so much. ''Nice to meet you, sir.''
''Call me Harry, like Harry Styles. Most teens find that easier to remember,'' he winked jokingly, and Maya instantly knew she'd been right in her assessment of him. In fact, he reminded her of Tony with a bit of Clint thrown into the mix, personality-wise.
''Dad.'' Brooklyn groaned, burying her face in her palm. But Maya thought it was quite funny, her chest shaking with silent laughter. If the roles were reversed, and Harry was one of her moms, she was very sure she would be the one embarrassed instead, since they had a knack for teasing her in front of her friends.
''How was the game?'' Harry asked, completely ignoring his daughter's complaints. ''Did you win?''
Maya nodded, her chin held high. ''We did. Two to one.''
''Very good, very good. You in offense or defense?''
''Offense. Usually a winger.''
Brooklyn just stood there watching them, her head turning left and right like she was busy following a tennis ball getting hit from one side of the court to the other. She'd been completely pushed out of the conversation, and while Maya thought her frown was adorable, she was also glad most of the annoyance seemed to be focused on her father.
Impressed, Harry nodded. ''You sound like you know your stuff. You should come watch a game with us on a Sunday sometime. Would be nice to have someone around who can answer Brookie's endless questions instead.''
Oh, he was a good wingman.
''Don't call me that.'' Brooklyn scowled, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, but it was as convincing as a mad puppy. ''And I don't ask endless questions.''
''Honey, it's been years and you still don't understand off-side,'' he teased.
''Does anyone?''
Maya pressed her lips together to smother her chuckles and avoid being on the other side of the blonde's glare. One day, hopefully, she'd join in on teasing her and fall into harmless bantering like her moms always did, but they weren't there yet.
''I would really like that.'' she told Brooklyn's dad honestly. It felt like an honor to be invited so quickly. ''My moms are not the biggest fans, so I usually watch alone.''
''Well, then you're welcome anytime. Just ask Brookie if we're home.'' He knew exactly what he was doing, winking sneakily at Maya as Brooklyn grumbled angrily.
''I will run away,'' she threatened, to which her father's grin only broadened and Maya finally let out that chuckle she could no longer contain.
But as much as she was enjoying this, time ticked away, and she may or may not have concealed the whole Brooklyn part of tonight from her moms, so they must be starting to wonder why it took her so long to get home. Honestly, it was a miracle they didn't get suspicious when she left fifteen minutes early. It probably had to do with their long workdays.
Maya shifted in her spot, and the two people around her noticed the change in behavior immediately. ''Um, I should get home or my moms will worry.'' Her smile was apologetic, but none of that guilt was necessary, as Brooklyn nodded in understanding.
''Okay.'' She smiled, none of the annoyance or anger left on her face, like a switch had been flipped. ''Have a good night. Drive safe.''
Maya relaxed, her heart swelling. If she looked a tad too deeply into her friend's eyes right in front of her dad, nobody mentioned it. ''I will.'' They hadn't talked enough, the night was over way too soon. ''It was nice meeting you,'' she said to Harry.
''Same here,'' he said, taking a step back as Brooklyn inched towards the doorway.
''Bye, Maya.'' She gave a little wave, standing tall beside her dad. They had little similarities, the redhead noticed. Brooklyn must take after her mother. ''Oh! Wait, wait! I almost forgot!'' She perked up, her eyes wide. ''One second. I'll be right back.'' With her shoes and coat still on, she ran into the apartment, only to return seconds later, pushing something in Maya's hands. ''Here, I finished it. I've decided it's worth reading. Let me know what you think.''
Maya turned the book around in her hands until the cover properly faced her. It was the one she'd shown her earlier this week, the sci-fi novel she had been reading. A happy smile bloomed on her cheeks. ''Thank you. I'll read it and let you know.''
Brooklyn nodded just as happily, excited that she was excited. ''See you Monday.''
''Bye.''
Reluctantly, Maya turned around, fighting the bitter disappointment that came with saying goodbye, but clutching the book to her chest with a flutter in her heart.
Her feet hadn't reached the door to the stairwell when she very clearly heard Harry's voice in the distance.
''So, is she just a friend, or...?''
''Dad!'' Brooklyn hissed, the door thrown shut.
~~~~~~~~
A/N: a bit late because I was working another late shift, but it's here in the end :) This chapter is more of a build-up towards more exciting stuff, but it's necessary. Also I'm running out of ideas for small snippets of Kat & Nat so any ideas are welcome! Take care of yourselves and I'll see you in the next one!