Time is the Only Constant

Her face fell as she zeroed in on the man who continued to click away, his finger moving from the trigger to the lens. Clint furrowed his brows before turning around and seeing exactly what Maria had. 

“Shit,” the archer stood up.

“Bad word Daddy,” Lila called out from her spot on Laura’s lap, getting the attention of the rest of the group. 

Steve was the first to fully react, standing up and walking towards the man who promptly put his camera away and started moving through the dense crowd. Natasha sat stunned, for the first time Maria saw the woman unsure of what to do as she glanced between Ellie and the photographer. 

“Come here, Ellie,” Maria picked the girl up, pulling her into her side protectively as she watched the Russian stand to follow Steve.

“He’s already gone,” Clint squinted once more into the crowd that was now starting to ogle at Steve and Natasha.  

“Hey, Black Widow!” A man called from a few rows up, “Black Widow!”

Ellie shifted around nervously at the newfound spotlight, getting up and looking around at the group of people who now started to yell for the woman’s attention. Maria went to join the girl, finding that it was time to leave. 

“BLACK WIDOW!” another person called out as Natasha walked back to their seats quickly. 

It took one last call of “Widow!” for Ellie to panic, and close her eyes tightly. 

The portal opened and closed, taking the child with it before Maria could get her attention. 

“Go,” Laura nodded and corralled her children. 

Maria’s feet carried her up the stairs of the stadium two at a time as she chased after the girl who had yet to fully teleport since being taken by the Room. She pulled out her badge and ran past the security that stood around the VIP section they were parked in.

The door slammed shut but as she started the engine, the door next to her opened and closed quickly as a flash of red entered the passenger seat. Maria hadn’t even noticed Natasha following her through the stadium. 

“Drive,” the Russian ordered as Maria threw the car into gear and raced out. 

It was a silent drive back as the Deputy Director drove with speed she doubted Steve’s car had ever seen. She handed her phone to Natasha as it began to ring and continued focusing on the road ahead of her, only vaguely making out the words that were being said. 

“Steve said he couldn’t find the guy, he’ll get a ride home with Barton,” Natasha spoke quickly and quietly. 

Maria continued to drive, making the trip back in record time as she threw the car into park and sprinted through the garage of the apartment building. She pressed the button of the elevator repeatedly and was hit with a flood of memories from the last time this had happened. 

Finally, the doors opened and the two agents got in, pressing the floor level quickly. 

“It’s not last time,” Natasha said as if she could read the brunette's mind. 

Maria nodded and pretended to believe her as she stared at the numbers that ticked higher and higher until the doors opened once more. The Commander ran to her apartment, unlocking the deadbolt and calling to the child before she was fully inside. 

“Mommy,” Ellie called back from where she sat in front of Maria’s closet. 

The woman picked her up and did a once-over visually before placing the girl on her bed. 

“Two A,” the curly-haired girl held up two fingers. 

“Two A,” Maria echoed the rule sheet, “you only teleport when you’re in danger and only here.” 

The girl nodded, looking more shaken up than anything else, and directed her gaze to Natasha who had just pulled out her phone. Ellie let out a deep breath and climbed off the bed and over to the redhead.   

“Hey, yeah she’s here,” Natasha turned her back as she spoke into the phone, only turning back around as Ellie placed her hand on the woman's hip. 

Maria watched as Natasha hung up and knelt down until she was at eye level with the child. Ellie’s eyebrows were knit together as she reached her hand up and placed it on the spy’s cheek. 

“Очень рад, что ты в безопасности,” her little voice was serious as she said something Maria didn’t quite pick up on. 

Natasha balked for a moment before nodding and quickly answering the child in their mother tongue. It always took Maria a moment to remember that the two of them shared much more than a language. 

“You good here?” Natasha stood back up to full height and looked at Maria. 

“Uh,” she cleared her throat, “yeah, yep I think we're good. But you can stay- or I can- we can drive you home if you need.”

“I mean it’s Steve’s car so I could take it back to our place if you-” Natasha spoke quickly.

“Oh right, right, duh,” Maria shook her head, “Yeah, of course, if you have-”

“I don’t,” the Russian cut her off, “I mean I told Yelena I would call after the game but it’s not like a set time kinda thing or anything.”

“Okay, well yeah maybe you can give her a call and I can get started on dinner or-”

“Dinner’s good, yeah and I’ll see when the Barton’s are headed back to our place,” Natasha nodded and pulled out her phone, “cool I’ll just take this outside and.”

“Yep, yep yeah sounds good,” now it was Maria’s turn to nod. 

Ellie glanced between the two women and snickered as the spy left the room.

“Oh be quiet,” Maria playfully shoved her daughter, “you don’t even know why that’s funny.”

“I do!” the little girl protested. 

“Oh yeah?” she picked up the child and tossed her onto the bed, “how about you tell me why then.”

“Because Mommy,” the little girl laughed as her mom began to tickle her, “Mommy and Tasha are-”

The laughter became squeals until the girl could hardly speak, “what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Ellie laughed harder, it was music to her ears, something she hadn’t heard in months. 

“Come on Bear, let’s go make dinner,” she placed the child on her hip as the two walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. The child’s warm body sagged into her after using so much of her energy to teleport, Maria only tightened her embrace.  

STAR SPANGLED FAMILY?

Captain America was seen cozying up to none other than the Black Widow this week during a Washington Nationals game. Who is that we see with the honeymoon couple? Could the mysterious Avenger have been hiding a pregnancy last time we caught a glimpse? The youngin sure shares those same fabulous curls and looks that could already kill! 

 

Maria didn’t couldn’t read any further as she sat at the head of the table fuming. Her jaw clenched tight enough to cause permanent dental damage as she listened to the press team typed away on either side of her.  

“Listen,” the head of PR shrugged her shoulders, “we’ve had allegations before with Stark and everyone from Rogers to Davers. It will blow over.”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Hill kept her gaze directed at the woman who waved her hand absentmindedly. 

“I don’t think there’s much we can do, besides it’s better press than what we normally get with the team that’s been known to demolish small cities fighting off the baddies.”

“This isn’t about any of their missions, this is personal,” The Deputy Director tried to keep her voice level. 

“Which is why it’s better,” the woman sighed, “I don’t see why you’re getting so worked up about-”

“Because this is my daughter!” The Commander slammed a hand over the image, hard enough to send a vibration through the table. 

The already quiet room became silent, the other two members of the press office kept their heads down. 

“I take things like this seriously because it not only invades the personal lives of the Avengers team,” she returned back to her normal tone of voice, “but it also puts the safety of themselves and their families at risk. Agent Barton has worked meticulously to keep his family off the radar, if that camera had shifted a few inches over, all of that work would have been down the drain.” 

The woman had the decency to look remorseful and nod once. 

“As for the picture of my daughter, my daughter,” she jabbed a finger into her chest as the anger crept back into her voice, “she is well known by a number of counterintelligence agencies who have only recently been abolished. Do you understand what that means?”

“I do,” the woman nodded. 

“Then you now understand why I have to reassure her that nothing bad is going to happen even though she has been recognized multiple times this morning alone by people she has never interacted with before.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“I don’t want your apology,” Maria let out a breath and calmed herself, “I want to know what you and your team come up with to minimize the fallout from this.”

“We’re working on it now,” one of the men who had been typing when Maria first walked in spoke up and gave a curt nod. 

“Before noon, I would like answers.”

With that, the Deputy Director left the room.  

It was a long work day full of fielding questions about her daughter from agents that knew about the little girl who would trail Fury from time to time, on top of her already copious work load. She had called down to the Center before leaving her office, having a feeling the girl wouldn't be there. Sure enough they informed her she had been checked out early. 

"Depends," Ellie's little voice cut through the door Maria had just entered, "some orange or blue and black."

"And this one?" Fury asked the child who sat on top of his desk as he pointed to the jar. 

Maria leaned against the door frame, aware that her boss had heard her enter but still kept his focus on her daughter. 

"Do not know yet," Ellie shrugged, "but maybe a two weeks or maybe three we will know."

The both lowered their heads and continued to stare at the jar, Maria shook her head and fully walked into the office. 

“Nick, you can’t just keep taking her out because you don’t want to go to meetings," she said in lieu of a greeting. 

“First of all, like I told you, that’s your fault for putting my name on the dang sign out sheet. Second of all, sometimes she comes to meetings with me.” Fury didn't look up from the jar, but her daughter did as she slowly climbed off of the desk. 

"Hi sweet girl," she picked up the child, "how was your day."

"Fine except at school lunch people look at me again," the girl sighed. 

 Maria had tried her best to explain what had happened after people in their apartment building had recognized her from the article. She wasn't sure she had gotten it right and the anger towards the photographer hit her all over again.

"I'm sorry, maybe we can have a special treat tonight to try and feel better," she looked at the girl in her arms.

"By the way she has a bake sale tomorrow," Fury held up a flyer. 

"Great," Maria groaned as she took the piece of paper and looked over the information. 

"And a parent teacher conference at the end of the month," he held another flyer up. 

"Wonderful," she suppressed another sigh. 

"And we have a meeting with the WSC at the end of the week, no flyer for that one," he smirked. 

"Got it, come on Ellie, let's go before we get more work," Maria put her daughter down and held her hand, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tell me again why I need to be at that walk through?" he leaned back in his chair. 

"Because, you're the Director, sir."

"Ridiculous," he rolled his eye and looked at Ellie, "Bye little miss."

"Bye Fuzzy," the girl handed Maria her caterpillar jar so she could wave. 

The Commander handed the jar back quickly, picked up the girl's backpack and exited the office, wondering how her life became centralized around a flashlight, a caterpillar, and a Russian child.  

Natasha played with her lighter, flicking it open then closed as a set of keys jingled a few too many times before finally releasing the lock of the key it was crammed into. He dropped the bag he had been carrying at his feet and slammed his hand around on the wall in search of the light switch. Classic drunk. 

She cocked her head to the side as the light above her flickered on leaving her bathed in a pale yellow glow, and the man in front of her yelling and stumbling back against his front door in fright. 

“Get it all out of your system?” she rolled the lighter into the palm of her hand, then into her coat pocket.

“Listen- listen, I-” the photographer glanced around the room as if an excuse was going to fabricate in front of him. 

“You?” she cocked an eyebrow and waited. 

“It was a public event!” he finally got out, his hand falling onto the wall next to him for stability. 

“And your address and court records are public too. Or at least they are to me, Kyle Wend,” she stood up and got closer to the man, “aspiring blogger, mediocre photographer, with a propensity for public intoxication and possession of drug paraphernalia.”  

And then, the photographer did possibly the most idiotic move he possibly could. Natasha felt the smirk cross her face as the man closed the gap between the two of them, his large hands clenched at his sides. Clearly, she had struck a nerve. 

“I don’t do that shit anymore,” his breath was acidic, beer then, “I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

“Yeah, somehow I don’t believe that,” she pointedly looked at the pill bottles that littered the counter across from her. 

His face contorted in anger as his hand moved in slow motion toward the side of the Russian’s head. She dodged it and used his now open position to land a series of blows to his stomach and jaw. The photographer stumbled back until he caught himself on his kitchen counter. 

“Don’t,” Natasha sighed as she watched him fumble for a knife. 

The spy rolled her eyes as he swung the object back and forth, advancing on her. She ducked and quickly swept his feet from underneath him, kicking the knife out of his hand as he landed on the floor with a loud thud. The air (and fight) left his body quickly as he tried to curl in on himself. 

“Great, now that that’s over,” Natasha continued to stand over the man, “ready to listen?”

She pushed her sleeves up and squeezed her hand twice to turn on the widow's bites that encircled her wrists, “or do I need to persuade you a little more?”

“What do you even want, lady?” the man lulled his head to the side, “the pictures already printed, I can’t get that shit back.”

“No, but you can find another story that leaves this headline a distant memory.” Natasha was positive he had other first, she had already seen it on his laptop.

“I don’t have anything-” the man yelled from his place on the ground.

“Kyle,” the Russian cut him off and shook her head, “let’s not do this. You do in fact have other big newsworthy pictures that you can use. I know you do, and I don't really want to keep going back and forth with this. I have much better things to be doing with my time.”

“I don’t!” he tried once more.

“Oh my God, Kyle yes you do,” she threw her head back and once more turned on her widow's bites, “I really don’t want to use them because I’ll have to charge them again, and they use the same charger as my phone and I only have one charger right now which means I’m going to end up having to wait to charge my phone so I won't be able to do crossword-”

The photographer raised his eyebrows as Natasha cut herself off, his eyes flicking to the device on her wrists. 

“24 hours, you have 24 hours to get the public to focus on anything other than Captain America and I.”

He continued to stare at the bites. 

“Going to need a verbal confirmation there, Kyle.”

“Okay,” he swallowed as she turned them off. 

“Great,” Natasha walked over to the bag he had walked in with and slipped two of his SD cards into her pocket from where they were stashed in an outside pocket, “I’ll hang on to these.”

“But-” he sat up from his spot on the ground and used his hands to steady himself. 

“You don’t need them,” she shook her head, “I’d suggest the picture of the Secretary of Defense leaving his hotel in Vienna. That woman he was with seemed awfully young.”

The redhead didn’t say anything else as she exited the apartment and made her way back to her car. The Corvette roared to life as she pulled onto the main road and back towards the streets she had become innately familiar with. She hummed along to the radio and thought about what she would find on the newest SD cards in her pocket. Kyle Wend, she had learned, was more than just a sports photographer, but someone who had the ability to follow and obtain (terribly shot) incriminating photos of important people. 

It was the thought that continued to run through her mind until she placed her car in park and made her way upstairs. 

“Hey,” Maria opened the door looking incredibly tired. 

“Hey,” she walked further into the apartment that smelled like… chocolate?

“Bake sale tomorrow,” Maria noticed the crease between the spy’s eyebrows, “she went to bed about 30 minutes ago and left me to put all of the brownies into zip-lock bags alone.”

“Need some help?” she eyed the countertops that had trays of baked goods lining them 

“I’ll pay you in brownies,” the brunette led them both into the kitchen, “you just get off work?”

Natasha glanced down at her widow's bites that were still on, “yeah.”

Maria eyed her as she pulled the devices off and placed them on one of the open surfaces. The Deputy Director squinted at her telling Natasha that she didn’t totally believe her, but still, she shrugged and let it go. 

“Long day?” she asked the woman who continued to fill little bags. 

“For everyone in this apartment,” Maria nodded. 

“Want to talk about it?” Natasha asked as she opened up another bag and watched the Deputy Director fill it.

“Not particularly,” Maria looked at her once more and slowly ran a hand through the Russian’s hair and changed the subject, “This is a new look.”

After seeing the headline that morning, Natasha had decided to straighten her hair to try and get away from the allegations that Ellie was her child. She wanted to distance herself from anything that suggested she had a child, that she could have a child. It was as if the reporters had found the smallest crack in her normal armor and exploited it for all it was worth without actually knowing the true pain it caused.

“Curls can be a pain to deal with,” she slipped in the double meaning while keeping her eyes on the desserts in front of her. 

Maria hummed, “They can be, but they're also beautiful.” The Commander knew exactly what wasn’t being said.    

It was quiet for a moment as Natasha contemplated whether to push it, to bring up what she had just done, or at least talk about the article. The Russian opened her mouth once more but heard the door to the guest Ellie’s room open.

“A dollar is a little steep for a brownie, no?” she asked instead. 

“It was what her teacher recommended,” Maria shrugged, “plus I would gladly pay a buck for these, I make amazing brownies I’ll have you know.”

“Oh really?” Natasha laughed. 

“Really, really,” the brunette nodded. 

“You sell a lot of them as a kid at your bake sales?”

“I didn’t have too many of them as a kid,” Maria tilted her head to the side in thought, “but when I did, yeah I’m sure. It was my abuela’s recipe.”

“Tell me about it?” Natasha could hear Ellie’s door open a little more but didn’t make any move to show that she knew that. 

“Tell you about my bake sales?” the brunette asked, “or my abuela?”

“Either? Both?”

“Why do you want to know about it, Tasha?” Maria snorted once more.

“Because Melina never did any of that stuff, I want to hear about what a normal childhood was like,” she pushed.  

“I wouldn’t say it was normal,” the brunette placed the last brownie into a bag. 

“More normal than ours,” she flickered her gaze over to the hallway.

“Ours?” Maria looked up, “Bear, you were supposed to be asleep an hour ago.”

“Need…” the girl fumbled the excuse, “water.”

“Is that right?” the Commander crossed her arms, “our new thing is needing a drink of water whenever Mommy is awake and in the kitchen lately.”

Natasha willed her hands to keep going, to not falter after hearing Maria refer to herself as Mommy because that was definitely doing something for her. 

“You good, Tasha?” the woman chuckled as she took the bag from Natasha after she tried to seal it for the third time.   

She nodded, keep it together Romanoff. 

“Fine, one little glass of water and then back to bed,” the brunette called out to the little girl who bolted into the kitchen. 

Her tiny feet slapped against the wood of the hallway until she was directly in front of Natasha, eyes glued to the brownies. 

“No, just water,” Maria filled a glass and handed it to the child. 

Ellie gulped down the water and then set her sights back on the brownies. It was as if Natasha’s hand had a mind of its own as it went to slip the child a baked good. 

“No,” the Deputy Director warned. 

“Come on, Ria,” Natasha pouted, “just one.”

“Just one,” Ellie’s puppy dog eyes were even better than hers. She silently thanked whatever she believed in that the girl didn’t have to use them for the Red Room any longer. 

Maria’s lips were in a tight line as she took in the sight in front of her, “One. And then you brush your teeth and go back to bed.”

The redhead handed the child the brownie before Maria had finished her sentence. She took one into her own hand and bit into it, Maira was right. The brownies were really, really good. 

It was a soft look, one that even Natasha was unfamiliar with as she looked at Maria. The blue of her eyes glinted as she took in the sight of the two former members of the Red Room savoring the sweet treat. As soon as Natasha caught her looking, the Commander blinked a few times and cleared her throat. 

“Okay, finish up so you can go back to bed.”

“But were going to tell story,” the child furrowed her brows and looked to Natasha for help.

“Was I?” Maria smiled and shook her head.  

“Yes, told Tasha.” Ellie threw both hands open in exacerbation. 

There was something else that Maria said, the Russian was sure of it, but all she could focus on was the little girl in front of her. Her tiny hands, the way she repeated Natasha’s name, the curls that bounced ever so slightly; but deeper than that there were the light scars that highlighted her skin in the dim lighting, the way she glanced around even now when she was safe in her home. She was everything Natasha and Yelena had been in Ohio-

“Coming?” Maria pulled her out of her thoughts and into the living room. 

She nodded and sat on the couch next to Ellie who was wildly awake for about 72 seconds into Maria’s story from her youth. 

“Well… there go my hopes of getting her to brush her teeth again,” the brunette ran a hand through her hair as her phone began to ring, “shit.”

Maria looked at her phone, then her work computer, then Ellie, “I have to take this but… could you put her in her bed? She won't wake up and I really need to answer-”

Natasha nodded again, it seemed like all she could do that night. 

“This is Hill,” the Deputy Director answered quietly before mouthing thank you. 

It wasn’t totally new territory, she had put Cooper to bed a few times before, but as she looked at the child who slept next to her, she paused. 

“Let me stop you there,” Maria’s voice was getting louder as she talked to whoever was on the other side of the call, “It’s not that I don’t understand your mission objective, it’s that I don’t understand how you could fuck it up in less than 72 hours. No, no I don’t think that a soldier who only exists in the shadows is real. I don’t care what they said-”

The Russian slowly reached down and scooped up the sleeping child, trying to get her out of the main living space before it got too loud. Her first observation was that the child was lighter than she expected, tiny really. The second, was that true to Maria’s word, the girl didn’t wake even as Natasha placed her in the twin bed that sat in the girl’s room.  

She pulled the blankets up to Ellie’s chin and found herself unable to leave the child’s side. Natasha stroked back some of the girl’s curls and traced one of the scars that sat under her jaw. She wondered if it had been created in the Room or one she had obtained from being a kid and running around. She wondered if the flashlight that sat on the girl’s nightstand was there to scare away monsters that didn’t really exist in her closet or to find ones that were all too real, ones they had both grown up with. 

Ellie’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, “good night,” she muttered in sleepy Russian.

“Goodnight, Mishka,” she faltered for a second before smoothing one last curl out of the girl’s face and getting up. 

Natasha’s face felt warm and her heart was beating quickly as she gave a half wave to Maria, grabbed her widow’s bites from where they still sat on the kitchen counter and left without another word. She got into the corvette with half a tank of gas, a playlist already selected, and a lot to think through.