Covert Affair Oneshots | Natasha Romanoff

Mother's Daughter

The sun peeked through the blinds, casting stripes of light across the cozy kitchen where Natasha was attempting to have a quiet morning with her children. Stella and Atlas were still groggy but chirping with early morning energy as Natasha tried to get breakfast together. Jenna was on a work trip, leaving Natasha to navigate the chaotic world of parenting alone for the first time.

"Good morning, my little sunshine" Natasha said, trying to infuse enthusiasm that Jenna had into her voice as she poured cereal into bowls. Atlas, whose face was already smeared with the remnants of sleep, bounced around the kitchen, his small hands clutching a toy car that seemed to be his new favorite.

"Mommy, can you play with me?" Atlas asked.

"Just one minute" Natasha replied, glancing over her shoulder as she set the cereal boxes on the counter. She poured milk into the bowls, her mind already racing through the day's activities. As she turned back to Atlas to hand him his breakfast, she heard the soft patter of tiny feet running across the hardwood floor.

Stella was now sitting quietly at the kitchen table, her legs swinging as she munched on a piece of toast. Natasha smiled at her. Stella was a miniature replica of Jenna in so many ways, though her red hair was a striking contrast to Jenna's dark locks. Still, there was no mistaking the way Stella's eyes sparkled was the same as her wife's.

The morning was passing in a blur of cereal, car noises, and intermittent giggles until Natasha's attention was momentarily drawn away. Atlas had thrown one of his cars onto the floor, and Natasha bent down to retrieve it. She turned around to find Stella no longer at the table.

"Stella?" Natasha called, her heart skipping a beat. She quickly scanned the kitchen, and when Stella was nowhere to be seen, a small pang of worry tugged at her. "Stel, where are you?"

She hurried out of the kitchen with Atlas, who was still holding his car and babbling about something incomprehensible but undeniably important to him. Natasha's mind raced as she made her way through the house, checking every room. The house, though familiar, suddenly felt vast and labyrinthine in her state.

Jenna was going to kill her.

Natasha stumbled slightly as she rounded a corner, Atlas's tiny hand clutching her shoulder for stability. Her mind flashed to the probable aftermath:

Jenna coming home, her expression a blend of disbelief and disappointment. Natasha could already picture the raised eyebrow, the questioning look, and the well-deserved reprimand that would follow. "How on earth did you manage to lose half of our kids just an hour after they woke up?"

Finally, Natasha reached Jenna's library, a room filled with shelves of books that Jenna had meticulously organized... Natasha had watched Jenna painstakingly arrange this room.

She stopped at the door, her breath catching as she took in the scene before her. There, sprawled on the plush rug in the middle of the room, was Stella. She was lying on her stomach, legs crossed, a book open in front of her. The image was a mirror of Jenna's habitual reading posture, and Natasha's heart melted at the sight.

Stella's little face was scrunched in concentration as she attempted to decipher the words on the page. Her red curls were splayed around her, and she looked so much like Jenna in that moment it was almost eerie. Natasha couldn't help but smile.

Natasha stood at the door, watching Stella for a moment. Her little face was scrunched in concentration as she attempted to decipher the words on the page. The way she tapped her finger on the back of the book and the way her tongue was slightly stuck out while she focused was an exact replica of her mom.

"Stel" Natasha whispered as she stepped into the room. Stella glanced up, her bright eyes wide with the innocent joy of discovering something new. "I was looking everywhere for you."