what's this? a oneshot that's not at all angsty? and might actually be...fluff? pigs somewhere are flying, they must be. 😉😅

no tissues required, I promise. enjoy!


"Natasha!" Yelena says brightly as she spots her sister unpacking bags in her kitchen. She lowers her gun and powers down her widow's bites that she'd armed when she noticed someone was in her apartment, and closes the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

"What? A big sister can't visit her little sister as a surprise?" Natasha says with a flash of a smile.

"When she is a global fugitive, no," Yelena replies flatly, though she can't quite fully contain her smirk. "So why are you really here?" she asks as she flicks her gaze across the various fruits, vegetables, and other groceries her sister had already unloaded from the bags on the counter.

Natasha pauses her action of removing a package of chicken from a bag and stares at Yelena. "I missed you," she says plainly and Yelena feels a burst of love at the sentiment. "Did you want me to wait another twenty years before we met up again instead?" Natasha adds wryly.

Yelena wrinkles her nose at the slightly snide remark. "Don't be dramatic," she says as she shrugs off her coat and hangs it up in the closet by the door.

"No, that's always been your job," Natasha deadpans.

"Ha! Says the poser," Yelena calls over her shoulder as she slips off her boots and leaves them on the mat by the door.

Natasha groans. "This again? Really?"

"What? Tell me I'm wrong. Ha! You can't because it's true. You're a total poser," Yelena teases as she sets down her gun on a table in the den and then slides off the gauntlets from her wrists. She's home and she's with her sister...she's safe and doesn't need them.

Natasha looks up in frustration and Yelena smirks knowing she'd successfully gotten under her sister's skin.

"So, what's with the food?" she asks as she stops in the entrance to the kitchen and leans against the wall.

"Well, I got here and there was literally nothing except some frozen microwave dinners and boxes upon boxes of mac and cheese."

"And?" Yelena prompts, gesturing with her hand for her to elaborate the apparent problem with this situation.

Natasha stares at her, dumbfounded. "And I'm a fugitive and I eat better than this."

"So... what? You got me groceries?"

"Yes. And I'm going to teach you to cook."

"I know how to cook," Yelena defends.

"Mac and cheese from a box does not count."

"Why not? It's cooking. You have to boil the pasta and-"

"It is not the kind of cooking you should be doing."

"I like mac and cheese," she says, now a bit grumpy. "I ate soup and nutrition shakes for years. Forgive me for wanting some actual food for comfort."

Natasha's gaze softens but she doesn't relent. "You can have it, but not every night, Yelena. You need greens, and protein-"

"You're such a mom," Yelena teases with a roll of her eyes.

"This is what I get for trying to take care of you," Natasha mutters. "Now, c'mon, I'm going to teach you to make stir fry."

"You know, they have this wonderful thing called takeout now. It means you can-"

"Get over here already, Lenochka!" Natasha says quickly in Russian. She is clearly getting exasperated by Yelena's stubbornness, though the use of her nickname tells her that Natasha hasn't yet met her threshold of patience.

Yelena raises one eyebrow in a challenge. "Are you going to make me?"

Natasha sighs wearily. "I'm really hoping I don't have to."

"Then tell me why you're really here. If you were just going to drop by, you would have brought a treat or we'd order food like we did last time."

Natasha appears to think about arguing for a moment before she gives up. "I spoke with Melina last week."

Yelena groans. She'd had a suspicion that Melina had been the one to rat her out.

"Alexei overheard and inserted himself into the conversation, telling me how proud he was that his daughter still loved his mac and cheese. Said you ate it for three days straight, you loved it so much."

Okay...so not completely Melina. Of course Alexei would run his mouth. "And you understood that meant I needed an intervention?" she fires back at her sister defensively.

"Melina confirmed you were eating like a broke college student, and I decided you needed to learn the important life skill of cooking your own food."

Yelena scoffs. "You just wanted to see me. It's okay to admit it," she teases, opting to shift the focus of the conversation.

"I need you to slice these peppers," she says, ignoring Yelena's teasing as she points to a few different coloured peppers sitting on the counter. "Do you even have a cutting board? A knife?"

Yelena grins as she flicks her wrist to access her knife and throws it toward the window frame behind Natasha.

"You're such a child," Natasha mutters in Russian as she pulls the knife from the frame and shoots her a disapproving look.

"I've been called worse," she replies casually with a shrug. "And your Russian is rusty," she adds.

"This is dull," Natasha chides as she fingers the knife's edge, ignoring the barb about her language skills.

Yelena's jaw drops in shock, more offended by the assertion that her knife is dull than anything else. "It is not!" she protests as she walks into the kitchen swiftly.

Natasha ignores her. "Peppers. Sliced. Mushrooms too," she says, gesturing to the vegetables on the counter.

"Take it back! My knife is not dull. I sharpened that one yesterday."

"Feels dull to me," Natasha says with a shrug as she flicks her finger along the length of it. "Now, chop the vegetables please. There's a properly sharpened knife here somewhere, I hope?"

"No, you do not get to accuse me of-"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm telling you that the knife is dull. Now please, chop those," she repeats, pointing to the peppers and mushrooms on the counter.

"Enough of this, I'm making myself some dinner," Yelena says as she pushes past her sister and opens the cupboard to retrieve a box of macaroni and cheese, just to spite Natasha, but finds the cupboard empty. "You- What did you do with my macaroni and cheese?!" she demands as she turns to glare at Natasha.

Natasha grins mischievously. "Stir fry sounding more appetizing yet?"

"I bought those!" Yelena protests. "They were not yours to take!" she says as she points accusingly at Natasha.

"Help me cook and eat dinner with me and maybe some of the boxes will return."

Yelena glares daggers at her sister. "Fine," she relents, "but we're having something completely unhealthy for dessert."

Natasha laughs and Yelena can see the joy in her eyes. "I can live with that. Now, chop the-"

"Peppers and mushrooms, I know," Yelena interrupts with a grumble as she joins her sister at the counter, retrieving a knife from a drawer and beginning to slice the peppers.

"So, I already put the rice on," Natasha begins to explain as she points to the pot on the stove, apparently deciding to ignore Yelena's grouchiness altogether.

Yelena desperately wants to stay grumpy at her favourite meal being taken away, but having her sister here with her is taking more of the sting away than she'd like to admit, and as much as she would like to deny her sister has a point...she knows that she has been eating very poorly. She is fully aware that she should eat better, she'd just been enjoying being able to have her comfort food whenever she wanted. And so, despite her mac and cheese having been taken away, she listens and takes meticulous mental notes as Natasha explains how she cooked the rice, and how she can use noodles instead if she prefers.

"And now we'll let the chicken sit in the marinade while we finish with the vegetables," Natasha says as she pushes the bowl to the side, making room for them to continue chopping the vegetables.

Yelena leans over to sniff the marinade Natasha had walked her through the mixing of. She makes sure to keep the appreciative smile off her face as she realizes the concoction does smell good.

"So, we have peppers, mushrooms, onions, and carrots," Natasha explains as she points to each.

"Yes, I know what each of those are," Yelena teases. "I know I wasn't in school very long in Ohio, but we did at least cover food."

"I skipped the broccoli because I know how much you hate it," Natasha continues without missing a beat, smiling fondly at Yelena's automatic grimace at the mere mention of the dreaded vegetable, "but I thought we could add some snap peas and bean sprouts if you're up for it."

Yelena searches her memories to try and recall if she's ever eaten either of them before giving up and shrugging. "I don't think I've had them before."

Natasha smiles warmly as she replies, "Then you'll get a chance to try them today" and Yelena realizes her sister is genuinely happy to introduce new foods to her. "But really, you can add just about any vegetable you want to a stir fry. I skipped them because I couldn't remember if you liked them, but sometimes I'll add cashews too. For today, we have some peanuts we can add at the end for garnish."

They continue their cooking process, with Natasha handing over control to Yelena and then hopping up to sit on the counter and provide only verbal instructions. When it's finished, they sit down at the small table in the kitchen and Natasha waits and watches for Yelena to take the first bite.

"Stop watching me, it's creepy."

"I want to know what you think of it.

"Then you can ask me after I try it, like a normal person."

"Just have a bite."

"You sound like Melina in Ohio."

Natasha surprises her when she laughs. "God, she used to have to bargain with you all the time to eat your vegetables. I remember being shocked that she would even try to reason with you."

"I was very unreasonable," Yelena concedes with a grin.

"Was?"

Yelena's mouth opens at the playful accusation. "You take that back. I am pleasant and very reasonable now."

"Are we including the bit where you threw a knife at my head like half an hour ago? Or is that not part of what makes you reasonable?"

"I didn't throw it at your head. I was very clearly aiming for the window frame, which I hit."

"Yes, with your dull knife."

"It is not dull!"

"Take a bite and maybe I'll admit it's not completely dull."

"That is not really an enticing offer. You might admit it?"

"It's going to get cold."

"Now you sound like Melina again. Like mother, like daughter, ha!"

"Lenochka, try it. Please."

She bites back a comment that now Natasha really sounds like Melina and instead relents because her sister's expression is so damn eager. "Fine," she says with a roll of her eyes. She takes a bite and can't help but smile as she tastes the flavours dance across her tongue. "Okay, okay, it's good," she admits as Natasha leans in with an eager expression that turns into a wide, bright smile at her admission.

"You really like it?" she asks and Yelena can't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

"Yes, it's good. Now can we eat like normal people instead of you watching me? It's creepy."

"We've never been normal," Natasha points out before she takes a bite from her own plate.

Yelena tilts her head. "Okay, that is true. Can we please at least not be creepy then?"

Natasha chuckles. "Yes, we can do that."


An hour later, as demanded, Yelena had convinced Natasha to go out for something deliciously unhealthy for dessert. They'd settled on crêpes, which Yelena informed Natasha the place around the corner served, and so they'd headed out of the apartment on foot.

"You know, I can make crêpes," Natasha says.

"What? Really?"

She chuckles and smiles. "Yes."

"Maybe you should stay a few days. I could use a good breakfast."

"No Nutella for breakfast."

Yelena groans. "You take the fun out of everything. What am I supposed to eat in a crêpe if not Nutella?"

"Fruit?"

"Gross."

"Or you could get a savory one instead."

"Why? When you can have a sweet dessert one, why?" Natasha laughs again. "When did you become so...old?"

"I think the word you're looking for is responsible."

"You're a global fugitive. Responsible is not the word I'm looking for."

Natasha shoots her a disapproving look. "I'm not that much older than you are."

"Five years. Practically a generation."

Natasha just shakes her head. "This the place?" she asks as she peers up at the name of a tiny, hole in the wall shop.

"Yeah. Hans makes the best crêpes. You'll see."

"So you've said. Several times," she says dryly as her gaze sweeps over the storefront again.

"Don't judge it by the outside," Yelena chastises. "I expected more of you, Natashka."

Natasha laughs again. "Believe me, I've eaten in worse places that ended up having amazing food. I don't judge a book by its cover."

"Something tells me you have some good stories about those meals."

"I do. And maybe I'll tell you sometime, but let's order. It's cold out."

Yelena steps up and orders a Nutella crêpe, topped with whipped cream. Her nose wrinkles in disgust when Natasha orders one filled with fresh fruit instead for herself.

"All these options and you go with fruit?"

"I like fresh fruit," she defends.

"But I know you like desserts. I've seen you eat cake and pie and chocolate."

"And I also like fresh fruit."

"I don't understand you," Yelena says, throwing up her hands in the air.

"All a part of my charm."


Yelena pulls out some blankets from her closet and then heads back into the den. "Here," she says as she hands them over to her sister. "I've got a pillow around here somewhere too, just need to find it."

"It's fine, I can use one of the ones from the couch," Natasha says with a shrug as she begins to unfold the blankets and lay them down on the couch.

"Pssh, no. Those are not meant for sleeping."

"I'm not picky," she replies with another shrug.

Yelena shoots her a look she knows Natasha understands to mean there's no way in hell she's using one of those pillows, and heads back to the closet to dig through the mess of blankets and sheets. When she returns, she finds Natasha sitting on the end of the couch, looking at a framed picture of the two of them from their time in Ohio. "Melina sent it to me," she offers in explanation.

Natasha looks up and smiles. "I saw the photo album while we were at her place. I had no idea she'd kept it."

"I'm glad she did," Yelena admits. She hadn't known about it until Melina told her and she'd felt a rush of joy at the prospect that not all evidence of those three years had been erased. Especially in the wake of Natasha admitting those years were real for her too. Having something tangible to remind her of those years meant more to her than she could explain.

"Me too."

Yelena hands her the pillow and then hesitates for a beat as the words linger on her tongue. "Thank you," she says quietly as she meets her sister's gaze. "For tonight. For the cooking lesson," she clarifies. For everything, she adds silently.

"Anytime," Natasha replies with a smile and Yelena can tell she means it sincerely. "Next time I'll show you how to make-"

"Next time I'll make you macaroni and cheese," Yelena interrupts with a mischievous grin that gets Natasha laughing.

"Sure, but you have to try it with hot sauce."

"Hot sauce?!"

"Yes. It's the best. Honestly."

"I don't- Wait." Yelena holds up a finger as a realization sinks in. "How do you know it's good with hot sauce on it?"

Natasha smiles. "I think you know the answer to that."

"If you eat it too, why are you putting me through your cooking lessons?!"

"Because I eat it sometimes, not every night."

"Bullshit," she accuses and fixes her sister with a firm stare.

"I ate it a lot after I defected, okay?" Natasha answers with a reluctant sigh. "You're not the only one who liked it when we were kids."

"I knew it! I knew you liked it. So, who was the one to convert you over to your healthy eating trend, hmm? Was it your boyfriend, Barton?"

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Barton eats worse than you do, honestly. He eats like he's still a teenager. And he's not my boyfriend."

"Then who made you eating healthy?"

"Our handler. He was a halfway decent cook, though most people didn't know that. He bumped into me in the grocery store one day and offered to teach me how to cook chicken."

"All the grocery stores in the city and he happened to be in that one?" Yelena says doubtfully.

"He was worried about me," Natasha explains. "We'd just finished up a mission that was...hard. It was early on after I'd defected, before anyone really knew me apart from Barton."

"So, he tracked you to a grocery store?"

She shrugs. "He knew I hated people hovering, so he covered his up with a useful pretense."

"Smart man," Yelena concedes.

"Very."

"What did he teach you to make? Stir fry?" Yelena guesses.

"No, we cooked a roasted chicken that night. With some mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots."

"You remember the meal all these years later?"

"It was a good meal," Natasha replies with a shrug.

"And he taught you more recipes?"

"Over the years, yes."

"He didn't teach Barton?"

Natasha laughs. "He tried. Barton managed to somehow nearly burn down the kitchen in the process, so he didn't get any more lessons."

Yelena smiles at the joy in her sister's voice. "So, do I get my boxes back now?"

"Sure," Natasha agrees easily with a grin.

But a thought occurs to Yelena suddenly. "You know what? You need them more than I do. You take them."

"No, it's okay, I-"

"No, no. You take them. I can get more. I am not being hunted by basically every police force on earth - at least, not that I currently know of - so I can go into a grocery store to buy some more and not have to take precautions of being seen."

"A true show of love," Natasha quips with a smile.

"Yes," Yelena agrees, "it is."


so...thoughts on the non-angst? 😁

have a favourite part? enjoy the sisterly bickering? catch the nod to a moment in Hawkeye?

I'm thinking I might try to write a few of these Yelena & Natasha happy moments for a mini series of sorts. goodness knows with the world being what it is these days we could use a smile. so - no promises, but if you have a request/idea/suggestion...let me know!