Chapter Text
Kate Bishop was late.
Not fashionably late. Not "five minutes behind schedule but still somehow put together" late.
Actually late.
The kind of late where your alarm had gone off three times, you'd snoozed it three times, and somehow convinced yourself you could still leave the apartment in ten minutes. Now she was speed-walking through Manhattan with two coffees balanced precariously in her hands and her messenger bag sliding off her shoulder.
"Fantastic," Kate muttered to herself as she crossed the street. "Inherited a multimillion-dollar company and still can't figure out how to wake up on time."
The words tasted bitter. Not because they weren't true. Because they were. Two years ago, her life had been college classes, archery practice, and occasionally getting involved in situations that definitely should have gotten her killed.
Now?
Now she owns a company.
Well.
Technically she owned the company.
The company her mother had spent years building. The company Kate had spent years trying to ignore. The company she'd inherited after everything fell apart. After Eleanor Bishop had been arrested. After the headlines. After the reporters. After the endless meetings with lawyers.
Kate still hated thinking about it.
Most days she was too busy to think about it at all. Other days it hit her like a truck. Today wasn't one of those days.
Today she was just trying not to spill coffee all over herself before 9 A.M.
The glass tower came into view, reflecting the morning sunlight. Kate quickened her pace.
The security guard at the front desk gave her a sympathetic look as she rushed inside.
"Morning, Miss Bishop."
"Don't look at me."
He laughed.
Too late. Everyone had already seen her.
The elevator ride felt painfully slow. Kate checked her phone. Three missed calls. Five texts. Two emails marked urgent. One reminder she'd forgotten to do yesterday. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
The elevator doors finally opened.
Kate stepped out and immediately headed toward the main entrance of the executive floor. She shifted the coffees to one hand and pulled her key card from her pocket.
Please work on the first try.
The scanner flashed green.
ACCESS GRANTED.
The doors slid open. The second she walked in—
"GOOD MORNING, KATE!"
The chorus echoed across the office.
Kate physically jumped.
Several employees laughed.
One nearly dropped his papers.
"Oh my god," Kate groaned. "Why do you guys do that?"
"It's tradition," someone yelled.
"It has never been tradition."
"It is now."
Kate shook her head.
Every morning.
Every single morning.
And somehow it still startled her.
She started down the hallway, offering waves and half-awake smiles.
"Morning."
"Morning, Kate."
"Good morning, Miss Bishop."
"Hey, Sarah."
"Morning, Kate."
Everyone seemed significantly more awake than she was.
Which felt rude.
A familiar voice suddenly called from across the office.
"There she is!"
Kate immediately knew who it was.
Franny.
Her assistant.
Unfortunately.
Franny Mitchell wasn't supposed to be Kate's assistant.
At least, not according to literally everyone who knew her.
At least, not according to literally everyone who knew her.
Franny had been one of Kate's closest friends in college, which was probably the only reason she'd gotten the job in the first place. A few months after graduation, she'd managed to get herself into an argument with her father about responsibility, finances, and what he called her "complete inability to take anything seriously." The argument had ended with him temporarily cutting off her credit cards and Franny realizing that, unfortunately, food and rent cost money.
Kate had offered her the assistant position as a favor.
To Franny's credit, she was surprisingly good at the parts of the job that involved talking to people. She remembered names, knew everyone's birthdays, and somehow managed to make even the most miserable clients laugh. The downside was that she treated nearly every workplace interaction like an improv comedy show.
Kate had once described her as "a walking HR complaint."
Franny maintained that was unfair.
Clarice from Human Resources maintained it was actually very fair.
The debate was ongoing.
"There she is," Franny announced dramatically as she appeared from around the corner, tablet tucked beneath one arm. "The woman. The myth. The employee who owns the company and is somehow still late."
Several nearby employees looked up from their desks.
Kate pointed at her immediately.
"Stop announcing my failures to the entire office."
"I'm your assistant," Franny said. "It's important for morale."
"How is that good for morale?"
"It lets everyone know they're doing better than the CEO."
A few employees snorted with laughter.
"Traitors," Kate muttered.
Franny fell into step beside her as they walked toward the executive offices. She tapped something on her tablet before looking up.
"Anyway, you've got six meetings today, three people asking for signatures, and one guy who refuses to leave the lobby until he talks to you."
Kate groaned.
"Franny."
"Kate."
"Why didn't you call me this morning?"
Franny stopped walking.
Slowly, she lowered the tablet.
Then she stared at Kate.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"I called you."
"No, you didn't."
"I absolutely did."
Kate pulled out her phone.
Three missed calls.
All from Franny.
"Oh."
Franny crossed her arms.
"Oh?"
"Okay, technically you called."
"Thank you."
"But they were during my alarms."
"That's not my problem."
"It kind of is."
"How?"
"You're my assistant."
Franny looked genuinely offended.
"Kate Bishop, I answer your emails, schedule your meetings, and occasionally prevent you from accidentally agreeing to things. I am not responsible for physically waking you up."
"You could've tried harder."
"I called three times."
"You should've sent someone."
"To your apartment?"
"Yes."
"Absolutely not."
Kate sighed dramatically.
"See? No initiative."
"You're impossible."
"And yet you work for me."
As they rounded the corner toward her office that's when she collided with someone coming from the opposite hallway. The impact wasn't hard, but it was enough.
Kate's eyes widened. Both coffees tilted. "Oh no—"
Hot coffee splashed everywhere.
One cup slipped from her grasp entirely while the other emptied itself across the front of a gray company polo.
For a moment, the hallway froze.
Coffee dripped onto the floor.
The stranger somehow managed to keep hold of the stack of folders tucked beneath his arm, though several pages threatened to slide free.
Kate stared in horror.
"Oh my God."
The words escaped immediately.
"I'm so sorry."
The guy looked just as startled as she was, but instead of getting angry, he shook his head quickly.
"No, don't be."
His voice was warm and easygoing despite the fact that coffee was literally dripping down the front of his shirt.
Kate finally looked up properly.
He looked about her age, maybe a little younger. Brown hair that looked slightly messy, brown eyes, and a gray maintenance polo with the company logo stitched over the chest. There wasn't a name tag anywhere that she could see.
Before Kate could apologize again, recognition flashed across his face.
His posture straightened instantly.
"Oh—I'm sorry, Miss Bishop."
Kate blinked.
The poor guy suddenly looked horrified, as if he'd just realized he'd spilled coffee on the CEO.
"It's alright," she said quickly.
The poor guy immediately started trying to clean up the mess anyway, awkwardly shifting the folders under one arm while using his free hand to wipe at the coffee soaking through his shirt.
"No, seriously, I'm sorry," he said. "I should've been paying attention. I was looking at these maintenance reports and—"
"Trust me, this one's on me," Kate interrupted with a laugh. "I was running late this morning. I've basically been a disaster since I woke up."
The guy smiled nervously.
"Well, that makes me feel a little better."
Kate glanced down at the gray polo again, searching for a name tag. Nothing. She looked back up.
"Sorry, what's your name?"
"Oh."
The guy blinked. Then immediately started rambling.
"I'm Peter. Peter Parker. I mean, just Peter is fine. Most people call me Peter. Nobody really calls me Parker unless it's official paperwork or something."
Kate couldn't help smiling.
Definitely a rambler.
She shifted her bag higher on her shoulder and held out her hand.
"Nice to meet you, Peter Parker."
Peter quickly shook it.
"You too, Miss Bishop."
"And sorry for not knowing who you are," Kate said. "Things have been kind of insane around here lately."
"That's alright."
"I'm stressed, overworked, and apparently incapable of walking in a straight line."
Peter laughed softly. "I can relate to that."
Kate looked down at the coffee stain spreading across the front of his shirt.
"Actually, I think I have extra clothes in my office."
Peter glanced down at himself. The entire front of his polo was soaked. "Oh. You don't have to do that."
"No, trust me, I do. Otherwise I'm going to spend the rest of the day feeling guilty."
Peter hesitated before nodding. "Okay. Thank you."
Out of the corner of her eye, Kate noticed Franny watching the entire interaction unfold.
The grin on her assistant's face was borderline concerning.
Kate pointed at her.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You absolutely do."
Franny's grin somehow widened.
Kate groaned and turned away before she could make things worse. "Come on."
Peter followed her down the hallway.
A moment later, Kate pushed open the doors to her office.
The room was dark. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, but the automated blackout shades were still closed.
Peter stepped inside and immediately slowed.
The office was enormous.
Kate didn't even notice.
She walked in like she did every day.
"Emma."
A soft voice responded from hidden speakers.
"Good morning, Kate."
"Open the shades."
"Of course."
The blackout curtains slowly lifted.
Sunlight flooded the room. The entire Manhattan skyline appeared beyond the glass wall.
Peter stopped for a second.
The view alone probably cost more than most apartments in the city. Kate's office sat high above the streets below, giving a nearly uninterrupted view of the skyline stretching toward the river.
The room itself somehow managed to feel professional and completely personal at the same time.
A large black desk sat near the center of the office with a sleek leather chair behind it. Along the walls were framed photographs, memorabilia, and pieces of artwork that looked less like corporate decorations and more like pieces of Kate's life.
A framed New York Knicks jersey hung prominently near one corner. Nearby was a signed photo from a game.
There were pictures of Kate sitting courtside with friends, photos from charity events, and a handful of archery trophies displayed among the shelves.
Peter spotted a bow mounted in a display case.
Then another.
And another.
The office looked less like a CEO's workspace and more like a museum dedicated to everything Kate Bishop had ever been interested in.
"Wow," Peter said quietly.
Kate looked up from where she was kneeling beside her desk.
"Hm?"
"This is..." He glanced around again. "Really cool."
Kate laughed. "That's one way to describe it."
She reached beneath her desk and pulled out a neatly folded black button-up shirt. Standing again, she walked toward him. "Here."
Peter remained awkwardly near the entrance.
Kate raised an eyebrow. "You can come in, you know."
"Oh." Peter stepped farther into the room. "Sorry."
She handed him the shirt. "Don't worry. It's a men's shirt."
Peter looked down at it.
Kate shrugged. "I find them more comfortable."
He unfolded it slightly. The tag was still attached.
"It's a medium," Kate said. "That should be around your size, right?"
Peter checked the label.
"Yeah, actually."
"Good." She smiled. "Well, it'll have to do anyway."
Peter laughed.
The tension he'd been carrying since spilling coffee all over himself finally seemed to ease.
"Thank you, Ms. Bishop. I really appreciate it."
Kate immediately pointed at him.
"Just call me Kate."
"Oh."
"I hate the formalities."
Peter nodded. "Sorry, Miss Bishop—I mean, Kate."
Kate laughed. "There you go."
For the first time since they'd met, Peter smiled without looking nervous. It was a surprisingly nice smile.
Kate cleared her throat.
"So, how long have you been working here?"
"Not very long," Peter admitted. "I was just hired about two weeks ago."
"Oh, nice." Kate nodded.
She leaned back against the edge of her desk. "Sorry, I don't usually handle the hiring process for..." She trailed off and looked at Peter expectantly.
Peter pointed to himself. "Oh. Mechanics."
Kate tilted her head. "Mechanics?"
"Well, kind of."
Peter shifted the folded shirt under his arm. "I mostly fix computers, security systems, servers, networking equipment. Stuff like that."
Kate nodded. "That makes more sense."
"Yeah, whenever something breaks, I'm usually one of the people they call."
"Good to know."
Peter smiled.
For a moment, the room fell quiet.
Then Peter glanced toward the ceiling speakers. Toward the invisible voice assistant. He looked like he wanted to ask something.
Kate noticed immediately. "What?"
Peter hesitated. "Emma?"
Kate followed his gaze. "My AI?" she asked.
Peter nodded. "Yeah."
He glanced around the office again. "She seems really advanced."
Kate smiled. "Thank you."
"What exactly is she?"
Kate walked back around her desk and crossed her arms. "It's Bishop Security AI."
Peter's eyebrows lifted.
"We've been working on it for a while."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
Kate glanced toward the windows. "It's not completely finished yet, but I think it's going to be something big."
Peter nodded slowly. "I can see that." He looked genuinely impressed. "The response time is almost instant."
Kate raised an eyebrow.
Peter immediately slipped into what sounded suspiciously like a lecture.
"If she's handling voice recognition, environmental controls, scheduling, security access, and contextual memory all at the same time, that means she's probably running multiple learning models simultaneously."
Kate stared.
Peter kept going. "Which is actually really difficult because most systems start lagging once they're trying to process too many requests at once. But she doesn't seem to have any delay at all."
Kate blinked.
Peter continued. "And if she's integrated into the building's security network, she could probably analyze movement patterns, identify maintenance issues before they happen, optimize energy consumption, and maybe even predict equipment failures based on usage data."
Another pause.
Peter looked up.
"Oh."
Kate was staring at him.
"Sorry."
"No, keep going."
Peter laughed nervously. "I was rambling."
"A little."
"Yeah."
Kate shook her head. "You seem to know a lot about this kind of stuff."
Peter shrugged. "I guess."
"No, seriously." Kate pointed at him. "Most people don't casually explain predictive maintenance algorithms."
Peter shrugged. "I went to Midtown."
Kate's eyebrows lifted. "Wow. What about college?"
The smile on Peter's face faded just slightly. He shook his head. "No college."
"Oh." Kate immediately felt like she'd stepped somewhere she shouldn't have.
The answer wasn't defensive or upset. If anything, it sounded practiced, like he'd had to explain it a hundred times before. She opened her mouth to ask another question before stopping herself.
Not her business. Not yet, anyway. "Well," Kate said, shifting gears. "Midtown alone is still pretty impressive."
Peter offered a small smile. "Thanks."
Kate glanced toward Emma's speaker system before looking back at him. "Actually, Peter, I'm pretty busy today."
He nodded. "Yeah, of course."
"But..."
Peter looked up.
"If you'd like, maybe we could grab lunch sometime this week."
His eyes widened slightly.
Kate continued before he could misunderstand. "You seem to know a lot about AI and software systems. I'd love to hear your thoughts on Emma."
Peter blinked. For a second, he looked genuinely surprised she'd asked. Then he nodded a little too quickly.
"Yeah." Another nod. "Yeah, sure."
Kate smiled. "Great."
"I'd like that." The answer came out so fast that Peter immediately looked embarrassed.
Kate pretended not to notice.
"Perfect. We'll figure something out."
Before either of them could say anything else, the office door swung open.
Franny stepped inside holding her tablet.
"There you are."
Kate groaned."What now?
"Apparently your ten o'clock meeting moved to ten minutes ago."
Kate stared at her. "What?"
"That's what I said."
"How does a meeting move to the past?"
Franny shrugged. "Rich people."
Kate dropped her head back dramatically. "I hate this company."
"You own this company."
"Exactly."
Franny pointed toward the hallway. "Move it, boss."
Kate sighed before looking back toward Peter. "Looks like I've got to go."
Peter nodded. "Yeah."
She smiled.
"Nice meeting you, Peter."
"You too, Kate."
For a moment neither of them moved.
Then Franny cleared her throat loudly.
Kate rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay."
She started toward the door.
Peter stepped aside to let her pass.
"See you later."
"See you."
Kate disappeared into the hallway with Franny already launching into what sounded like seventeen different problems at once.
A second later, Peter found himself standing alone in the enormous office, holding a borrowed shirt and wondering how he'd managed to spend twenty minutes talking to Kate Bishop.
Meanwhile, the moment the office door closed behind them, Franny turned toward Kate with the kind of expression that immediately made Kate suspicious.
Kate ignored her.
Instead, she adjusted the sleeves of her white button-up shirt and retucked part of it into her black slacks as they walked down the hallway. She'd gotten dressed in a hurry that morning, and it showed.
Franny continued staring.
Kate sighed. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Franny."
"Nothing."
Kate pointed at her. "You're doing the face."
"What face?"
"The face you make right before you say something incredibly annoying."
Franny grinned. "I was just thinking."
"Dangerous."
"Very."
Kate rolled her eyes.
They continued walking toward the elevators. Franny glanced down at Kate's outfit.
"You know, if you're going to wear those heels, you should've worn the other shirt."
Kate groaned immediately. "Oh my God."
"What?"
"I hate when you girls do this."
"Do what?"
"Overanalyze clothes."
Franny gasped dramatically. "We do not overanalyze clothes."
"You absolutely do."
"We appreciate fashion."
Kate waved a hand dismissively. "We work in corporate security."
"We work in Manhattan."
"Same thing."
"It is literally not the same thing."
Kate laughed.
Franny looked entirely too pleased with herself.
Then, casually, she said,
"So."
Kate immediately knew where this was going. "No."
"That Peter guy is cute."
Kate almost choked. "What?"
Franny shrugged. "I'm just saying."
"You watched us talk for like twenty minutes."
"Exactly."
"That's insane."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
Franny hummed thoughtfully.
"I don't think it is."
Kate shook her head.
Franny, you are unbelievable."
"What?"
"You built an entire narrative from one conversation."
"It was a very interesting conversation."
"It was not."
"It was."
Kate pressed the elevator button. The doors opened. They stepped inside.
Franny crossed her arms. "Anyway, he's cute."
Kate laughed. "You've got radar or something."
"Years of experience."
"We literally spilled coffee on each other."
"Sometimes that's how love starts."
Kate made a disgusted face. "Oh my God."
Franny burst out laughing.
"You know I'm not even into guys like that." Kate said.
"I know."
"Then why are you—"
"I was talking about me."
Kate stared. The elevator went silent. Then Kate laughed so hard she had to lean against the wall.
Franny looked offended. "What?"
"You?"
"Yes."
Kate pointed at her. "You lasted five minutes."
"He's adorable."
"You don't even know him."
"I know enough."
Kate shook her head.
"No."
"Why?"
"I think he's way too awkward for you."
Franny considered that. For a moment. Then nodded. "Yeah."
Kate laughed again. "See?"
"That's fair."
"He looked terrified every time you entered the room."
"Most people do."
"That is not something to be proud of."
Franny smiled.
"I wasn't."
The elevator doors opened.
Franny stepped out first.
"Still cute though."
Kate groaned.
"Please go schedule something."
"No promises."
__________
By six o'clock, Kate was done.
Completely.
Utterly.
Done.
The day had somehow managed to get worse after the coffee incident. Three meetings had run over schedule, two clients had changed their minds halfway through negotiations, and her lunch had consisted of a microwave meal that tasted vaguely like cardboard and regret.
At this point, she would've happily traded her entire afternoon for a nap.
Unfortunately, she still had one last meeting. Kate checked her watch as she walked down the hallway toward one of the conference rooms.
Six o'clock sharp.
At least after this, she could finally go home. Balancing her laptop beneath one arm, she pushed open the conference room door.
"Hi," she said as she stepped inside. "So sorry I'm late. Today has been completely—"
She stopped.
A familiar voice interrupted her.
"Kate Bishop. I thought you would never come."
The thick accent hit her before she even fully registered who was sitting at the table.
Kate froze.
Then looked up. Across the room, a blonde woman sat comfortably in one of the conference chairs, her boots resting on the edge of the table as if she owned the building.
Kate blinked.
"Yelena?"
The blonde grinned. "Yes. In the flesh."
Kate immediately dropped her laptop onto the table. "What?"
Yelena laughed.
"What?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I have meeting."
"You do not have a meeting."
"I absolutely have meeting."
"With who?"
Yelena pointed at her. "You."
Kate stared.
Yelena stared back.
A second later both of them started laughing.
Kate shook her head and walked around the table. "I haven't seen you in months."
"Not true."
"It is true."
Yelena pointed accusingly. "Three months."
"That's months.”
"Technically."
"You completely dropped off the face of the earth."
Yelena rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Kate Bishop. You are so annoying."
Kate laughed. "You vanished."
"You know I have missions."
"Yeah, but I figured I'd get a text or something."
Yelena scoffed. "What would I text?"
"'Hey, still alive' would've been nice."
"I am alive."
"Clearly."
Yelena spread her arms. "As you can see."
Kate shook her head, smiling despite herself. It was ridiculous how easy it was. Months without speaking. Months without seeing each other. And somehow every conversation picked up exactly where the last one left off. After everything that had happened during Christmas and New Year's a few years ago, neither of them had expected to stay in contact.
At least, that was what Kate told herself. But then she'd been the one to invite Yelena out for coffee. Yelena had complained the entire time.
Then she'd invited her again.
And again.
Somewhere along the way, coffee became drinks.
Drinks became takeout.
Takeout became Yelena randomly showing up at Kate's apartment carrying enough Chinese food to feed an army.
There had been nights spent arguing over movies.
Long conversations that stretched until two in the morning.
Random texts.
Inside jokes.
The kind of friendship that appeared without either of them noticing.
Casual.
Easy.
Comfortable.
At least on the surface.
Because if Kate was being honest with herself, there had always been something else there.
Something she never quite examined.
Never quite named.
Every time Yelena laughed. Every time she leaned a little too close. Every time Kate caught herself looking at her for a second longer than she should. The feeling was always there.
Quiet.
Persistent.
And completely unresolved.
Then Yelena disappeared. Three months. No calls. No texts. No late-night takeout. Nothing. And Kate hated how much she'd noticed. Which was why seeing the blonde sitting across from her now felt strangely relieving. Even if she absolutely wasn't going to admit that.
Yelena tilted her head. "You are staring."
Kate immediately looked away. "No I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
Kate rolled her eyes. "Shut up."
Yelena grinned. "There she is."
"So what are you doing back in New York?" Kate asked as she sat down across from her.
Yelena immediately pointed at her. "There it is."
"What?"
"Always with questions."
Kate laughed. "You disappeared for three months."
"And now I am back."
"That's not an answer."
"It is answer."
"It literally isn't."
Yelena sighed dramatically. "Kate Bishop, you are exhausting."
"And you're avoiding the question."
For a moment, Yelena's smile faded. Not completely. Just enough for Kate to notice. The change immediately made her sit up straighter.
"What's wrong?"
Yelena looked down at the table. "The Widows."
Kate's expression softened. "Oh."
Yelena nodded. "We found the last group."
"The last of them?"
"As far as we know."
Kate let out a slow breath.
After the Red Room had fallen, there had always been more girls to find. More safe houses. More leads. More people who needed help.
Years later, they were finally reaching the end. "How many?" Kate asked quietly.
“Eleven."
Kate nodded. "And they're okay?"
Yelena hesitated. That was enough to answer. "Not all of them."
Kate frowned. She wanted as the blonde crossed her arms.
"Six are doing alright."
"And the others?"
"They do not know how."
"How what?"
"How to live."
The words hung heavily between them.
Yelena stared at the conference table. "They spent their entire lives being told what to do."
Kate stayed quiet.
"Where to go. Who to hurt. What their purpose was."
Yelena shook her head.
"And now there is nothing."
The confidence that usually filled her voice was gone.
"They wake up every day and ask what they are supposed to do."
Kate understood immediately.
Because if anyone knew what it felt like to lose direction after your entire world changed—
It was Yelena.
"So," Kate said carefully.
"What can I do?"
Yelena pointed at her. "I knew you would ask that."
Kate smiled. “That's usually how conversations work."
"I need jobs."
Kate blinked. "What?"
"Jobs."
"For the Widows."
Yelena gestured toward the building around them. "You have giant company."
Kate laughed. "You really think Bishop Security is going to hire ex-assassins?"
"Yes."
"Yelena."
"They have excellent qualifications."
Kate couldn't help smiling. "Assassination isn't usually listed under preferred experience."
"They are punctual."
"Yelena."
"They work well under pressure."
"Yelena."
"They know self-defense."
Kate laughed and dropped her head into her hands.
Across the table, Yelena grinned.
Then she leaned forward.
"I'm serious, Kate Bishop."
The humor disappeared.
"They need something."
Kate sat back.
The problem was, Yelena wasn't wrong.
The company had hundreds of employees. Security specialists. Cybersecurity teams. Intelligence analysts. Administrative departments. Training programs. But it wasn't as simple as hiring whoever she wanted.
"I don't make every hiring decision."
Yelena raised an eyebrow.
"You are CEO."
"I know."
"Seems pretty straightforward."
Kate laughed. "It's not."
She leaned back in her chair. "There are background checks. Human Resources. Department heads. Insurance requirements. Training certifications."
Yelena groaned.
"Corporate America is terrible."
"It really is."
"But?"
Kate sighed. "But..."
Yelena immediately sat up straighter.
Kate pointed at her. "Don't get excited."
"Too late."
"I can probably create something."
Yelena blinked. "What?"
"An internship program. Training positions. Something that helps them transition."
For the first time all evening, Yelena looked genuinely hopeful.
Kate noticed immediately.
And suddenly understood why she'd shown up in person. Not for herself. For them.
"Let me see what I can do," Kate said.
Yelena stared at her for a moment.
Then smiled. A real smile. Small. Relieved.
"Thank you, Kate Bishop."
Kate smiled back. "You're welcome."