IV. open sesame

                                    

                                          
february 2017
Natasha sat alone at the table, waiting for Katya to come home. She glanced at the clock on her left. She should be here soon. The apartment was almost completely dark, the only source of light being thirteen tiny flames stuck into the store-bought birthday cake. Romanoff's cooking might have gotten better over the past few months but she didn't want to risk it with baking, not quite yet, and definitely not on her daughter's birthday. 
From her spot, she could see the main birthday present, already waiting in Katya's room. A long overdue, but like Natasha promised she finally got her that guitar, now hidden in a simple black case with a big, red ribbon taped to the middle of it. 
They've already spent some time together, in the morning, thanks to Katya who got up earlier and made breakfast for both of them. Natasha always tried her best to be home for her daughter's birthday and missed it only once, when the mission got unexpectedly prolonged. It was Katya's eight and she was mad at herself for that for weeks, even if she knew that the Bartons made sure her girl had the best day she could ever wish for. 
Natasha crossed her arms at the table. She wished she wasn't waiting alone for her. That James would sit next to her today. Shuri was close, she kept reminding her of it. Yet she wasn't close enough. Not yet. 
The memory of her guilt after missing one birthday, omitting the first four Katya spent in Hydra's and Red Room's grasp, made Natasha think about how James felt about missing out on so much of his daughter's life. He already felt bad in Bucharest, when he put together a birthday present for the first time, it being the only thing he could do for her back then. She smiled when she recalled him promising that one day he'll repay Katya for all the birthdays that he missed. One down, twelve to go. 
The sound of the door's handle clicking pulled Natasha out of her thoughts. Katya stepped in, her backpack barely hanging on her shoulder. Usually, she didn't come home this late, but it was Thursday, the only day she had any extracurriculars in school, mostly art stuff, that kept her there until early evening. 
Romanoff stood up, pushing her chair back silently. Katya closed the door, and her backpack finally fell off completely and hit the floor with a thud. She covered her mouth, slightly opened in surprise, with her hands as she came closer.
"Happy Birthday, zvezdochka." Natasha said, opening her arms and letting the girl run into them.
With the usual nickname, also came a sudden wave of realization and a pinch of sadness. The little star wasn't so little anymore. Already almost as tall as Natasha, which wasn't exactly hard, yet still a reminder of relentlessly passing time. She was losing her child-like features, her facial lines becoming sharper, her freckles fading, and the posture of a scrawny, thin kid was merely a memory now. They weren't sure whether it was just normal puberty or if it was the super soldier serum, but visible muscles were starting to make an entrance.
Her baby was not a baby anymore. And it was bittersweet. 
"Thank you so much," Katya muttered, wrapping her arms around Natasha's neck. 
"You're welcome." she smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Pecks on top of it weren't possible anymore if they were both standing, she was too tall. "Go on, blow the candles." 
Katya stepped out of her arms and eyed the cake. "Did you do this?" 
"I bought and brought it home, does that count?" 
The girl let out a short laugh and got closer to the table. Holding her hair back, so it wouldn't accidentally catch on fire, she leaned forward and blew, putting out all thirteen candles in one go. Natasha turned on the light and grabbed a knife from a kitchen counter.