VII. why her?

                                    

                                          
The few hours-long walk through the Russian moors was rather uneventful. Alexei managed to annoy everyone at least a dozen times by somehow finding a way to make everything about himself. Katya had known him for a few hours but the man seemed to have unique talent to wake up the more violent side of her. 
After marveling at Natasha and Yelena's ledgers that were oozing red, he tried to pull her into the forced hug too, while also calling the girl his vnuchka, much to Romanoff's displeasure. She wanted the girl to have nothing to do with the man, him being the only reason she regretted taking Katya along for now. After getting herself free from his grasp, Natasha intended to help her get away too, yet as independent as Katya recently was, she didn't need her help. One squeeze at the recently crushed hand was enough to make Alexei let her go of her willingly and as it turned out, to keep him at arm's length for the rest of the journey. 
But since he gave up on befriending the younger Romanoff, Shostakov had to find something else to occupy himself with. This time he settled on Captain America. 
Once again, much to Yelena's relief, Katya came to their aid with some quick math and asked how could it be possible for Alexei to fight Captain America if he was already locked up by the time Rogers got out of the ice. Pointing out that inconsistency, together with Shostakov's uncertainty about the girl worked well enough to earn her, Natasha, and Yelena well deserved moment of silence, while the man seemed to contemplate his whole existence. 
By the time they could see a silhouette of some buildings between the overgrown heather bushes and trees, Katya came to a few conclusions. 
First, she didn't dislike Alexei. She loathed him.
Second, she would sell her soul for some of the banana peanut butter cookies Laura often made. 
Third, Shostakov was scared of her, good riddance.
Fourth, Yelena's vast knowledge of dad jokes was disturbing but at least made the time go faster. 
Fifth, Katya had enough of heather for the rest of her life, and purple wasn't her favorite color anymore. 
Sixth, Natasha stopping to observe a pair of deer grazing in the distance was probably the last thing she expected that day. 
Soon they reached a chainlink fence with coils of barbed wire on top. A woman stood behind it, her dark eyes scanning them hesitantly, a rifle with a suppressor attached still clutched in her hands and held across her body. Alexei was the closest so he was the first one she looked at. Then her eyes shifted to the back, at Yelena, who looked away quickly. Katya stepped closer to Natasha, and it was her movement that made Melina look in their direction. She focused on the redhead first, tilting her head so gently it was barely noticeable. And finally, she glanced at Katya. 
The uncertainty on her face deepened for a moment and then began to be pushed away by something on the verge between relief and disbelief. The girl still had no idea why, but she seemed so familiar. She held Melina's gaze for a moment, hoping for a sudden flash of realization, but nothing like that happened. The woman looked away first, and once again peered at the whole group. 
It was like passing someone on the street and feeling like you know them. You look at them, they look at you, but no one says hi, unsure if that's really the person you're thinking about. The only difference was that Katya had no idea who could she even be thinking about. 
"Honey, we're home." 
And just like that, Melina's expression shifted to a completely bland one, maybe with a pinch of irritation. Younger Romanoff could swear she noticed her roll her eyes ever so subtly. 
"And..." Alexei came closer to the fence at pointed at Katya with his extended arm. "We're grandparents." 
"Oh, for god's sake," Yelena muttered and pinched the bridge of her nose.