The snow fell gently, blanketing the streets of New York City in a soft, silent embrace. Christmas lights twinkled, casting warm hues across the bustling holiday market. Kate Bishop, the young archer with a penchant for trouble, wandered through the stalls, her breath visible in the chilly air.
And then she saw her.
Yelena Belova stood near a vendor selling handmade ornaments. Her dark hair framed her face, and her eyes sparkled as she examined a delicate glass bauble. Kate's heart skipped a beat. She'd been drawn to Yelena ever since they'd crossed paths during the chaos of the Ronin investigation. There was something about the enigmatic assassin that both intrigued and unnerved her.
"Hey," Kate said, sidling up to Yelena. "Fancy meeting you here."
Yelena raised an eyebrow. "Bishop," she said, her Russian accent adding an edge to the single syllable. "What are you doing at a Christmas market?"
"Last-minute shopping," Kate replied, gesturing at the stalls. "You?"
Yelena held up the ornament. "Gift for my sister," she said, her expression softening. "She likes these delicate things."
Kate's mind raced. She had to say something, do something. The market was crowded, the air thick with the scent of roasted chestnuts and pine. And then she spotted it — a sprig of mistletoe hanging from a nearby archway.
"Yelena," Kate said, her voice low, "do you know what mistletoe means?"
Yelena frowned. "Kissing tradition," she said. "Why?"
Kate grinned. "Because," she said, stepping closer, "we're standing under it."
Yelena's eyes widened, and before she could protest, Kate leaned in. Their lips met, soft and tentative. The world faded away, leaving only the taste of peppermint and the warmth of Yelena's mouth against hers. It was a stolen moment, a promise wrapped in tinsel and snowflakes.
When they pulled apart, Yelena's cheeks were flushed. "You're crazy," she whispered.
Kate shrugged. "Maybe," she said. "But it's Christmas. Anything can happen."
Yelena studied her, her gaze intense. "What are you playing at, Bishop?"
Kate's heart raced. "I like you," she blurted out. "Like... likes likes."
Yelena's lips curved into a half-smile. "Is that so?"
"Yeah," Kate said. "And I thought maybe... under the mistletoe... we could figure this out."
Yelena's fingers brushed Kate's cheek. "You're a handful," she said. "But I like you too."
And just like that, the holiday market became a magical place. Kate and Yelena wandered hand in hand, their laughter mingling with the carolers' songs. They bought silly gifts for each other — a miniature bow and arrow for Kate, a tiny spyglass for Yelena. And when they passed under another archway, Yelena pulled Kate close, her lips brushing against Kate's ear.
"Merry Christmas, Kate," she whispered.
Kate grinned. "Best Christmas ever," she replied.
And as the snow continued to fall, they stood there, under the mistletoe, their hearts entwined like the delicate glass ornaments Yelena had chosen for her sister.
