Chapter Text
when kate entered her apartment, she was immediately hesitant. someone was there. which normally wouldn't be a problem, but kate most certainly lived alone, so. there was half a heartbeat where she wasn’t worried, thinking huh, maybe yelena broke in again, but she immediately noticed the person’s hair was much darker and much longer - she didn’t peg yelena as the wig type - and they were also very short.
so kate had an intruder. yay. not something she wanted to deal with after a patrol, but there really wasn’t much she could do about it now.
“can i… help you?” she asked hesitantly, grip on her bow tightening. she hadn’t quite gotten around to putting it down just yet.
“actually, you can!” the person replied, and kate’s anxiety plummeted when she heard how bubbly and young this person was. they turned around dramatically, yes, yelena, very much a poser, with some high-tech tablet thing in her hands. “you’re kate bishop, right? the young hawkeye?”
kate opened her mouth to reply, but the girl beat her to it. she was wearing some very super-hero super-hero garb.
“of course you are, that was rhetorical. what do you think about joining a team, ms hawkeye?” she asked, barely containing her excitement.
“okay,” she started slowly, putting the bow down. “for starters, it’s just hawkeye. not young hawkeye, not ms hawkeye, just hawkeye,” she began, taking the time to actually enter her home.
“we’ll workshop it,” the girl commented quietly, smile never fading as she nodded vigorously. kate removed her fingerless gloves and took her hair down from its ponytail, entering her small kitchenette and plling out a pot.
what? she was hungry.
“second, who are you? why are you here before i’ve even had the chance to shower?” she asked. kate would not be signing up for any mystery teams run by strangers still in highschool. the idea of a team did intrigue her, though. she took a bag of pasta down from its shelf and turned on her hot water tap, waiting for it to turn scalding.
“i’m ms marvel, but you can call me kamala. kamala khan.” she replied easily, stepping forward with a hand outstretched. “you aren’t the only kid superhero out there.”
“i am not a kid.” kate shook kamala’s hand. she then filled her pot up with water and placed it on the stovetop.
“kid-adjacent. it’s fine.” the girl waved-off, shuffling around her counter to sit on one of the barstools. kate eyed her, but it wasn’t warily, more so just tired. as far as break-ins went, this one wasn’t all that worrying to her.
she was still going to upgrade her security, though. she wasn’t quite sure what she could do, though. legally.
“what’s this team meant to be, anyways?” she asked, just to strike up conversation as she let her water start to boil. she opened up her fridge and pulled out the half-finished tub of tomato sauce for her pasta. she leant against the countertop when she was done, assessing the girl as she waited to cook her food.
“for those of us who can make a difference. we shouldn’t be barred from helping just because we aren’t having mid-life crises, so if we need to help each other to help the world, then so be it.” she told her, and kate was a little taken aback by the passion and conviction the kid managed. sure, she was excitable - that much kate could tell by just seeing her - but the way she spoke, that look in her eyes…
kate knew it.
“so... a team of kid superheroes?” she translated. despite it being a jab, the girl shrugged good-naturedly.
“pretty much.” she answered, smiling that heart-cracking smile. oh. okay. relating to the 16 year old who broke into your apartment. thats cool.
“sounds like a circus,” she said instead. kate still expected something defensive. this kamala did not give in.
“but it’ll be our circus, one where we get to run the show.” she pressed eagerly, jumping on to her jibe as though it had been the beginning of some sort of beautiful metaphor.
kate took a few moments of quiet, turning her back to the girl and putting her pasta into the boiling pot of water, sprinkling in some salt and then olive oil. she wasn’t an animal, yelena.
she frowned as she mixed the pot.
“you… you do know how much like babysitting this sounds like to me, right?” she said slowly, laying her spoon over the pot’s top and leaning back against the counter her stovetop was on. “i’m 23.”
kamala did not seem phased by her scepticism.
“and i’m 16, you won’t have to babysit me. i managed to outsmart aliens and interdimensional demon people.” she informed, very chippr.
kate felt her brain lag for a little while, attempting to process- well- that.
“okay, wow. that’s a lot to just dump on a person.” she expressed, crossing her arms. perhaps it was just to look cool. why do you care?
“i’ll explain it to you in full if you join the team?” kamala bribed, voice lilting in hope. kate sighed.
“i’m not babysitting anyone.” she told the girl point-blank.
kamala didn’t take it as the rejection kate had meant it to be.
“you won’t be, we won’t need it. we’re the young avengers.” she proclaimed proudly, hopping up from her seat and walking around the counter to talk to her face-to-face, closer up.
kate eyes the shorter girl, arching a brow. “the ‘young avengers’ is what you’re going with?” she asked, only a little scathing. very original, she thought sarcastically to herself. like the new avengers or… well… the other new avengers.
kate was not going to be on the other other new avengers team. no thank you.
“um, yeah?” kamala answered, a little more uncertain. kate sighed, turning back to her pasta and picking up the spoon, giving the pot another quick stir before fishing out a piece of the penne, blowing on it a few times before picking it up and popping it in her mouth.
this is my penance for trying to look cool, she chastised herself as the pasta crunched in her mouth. way too undercooked.
the put the spoon back down over the pot, reaching up to get a bowl and finding a fork before putting it on her counter next to her stove, giving the girl a glance over her shoulder and a sneaky smile.
“we’ll workshop it.” she told the girl. the beaming smile kamala gave her once she’d processed her words was almost worth eating that horrible, uncooked piece of pasta. almost.