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โง ๐ฌ๐ก๐'๐ฌ ๐จ๐ฏ๐๐ซ-๐๐จ๐ซ๐๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฅ๐-๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐
for spam, texts, tfln overflow, starters, prompts โ
for spam, texts, tfln overflow, starters, prompts โ
for spam, texts, tfln overflow, starters, prompts โ
government agents want me. fish fear me.
but no ice fishing today.
it's too warm for that. frankly, a little too warm and balmy for him. but he's spent the past twenty years in a place colder than a witch's teat, what does he know? so he won't complain about the heat. indeed, alexei should consider himself blessed after everything: losing his girls, the seventh circle, almost losing his girls again, losing five years, and then losing natasha.
he is blessed. too blessed to be stressed, a delightful saying that has inched its way into his mind and life. a much better proverb to live by than the russian one that'll forever be etched on his psyche: trust but verify. he's done with that. done with the lying, the subterfuge, and the circle of accountability. he was never made for that, but he stomached it for the glory of the motherland.
but, in his heart, he is a simple man. a day fishing with his daughter and a cooler full of sodas and sandwiches made by his beautiful wife are enough to sate him for a lifetime. which is why he dragged yelena out at 8 am on a thursday to catawba island, about an hour west of their home outside cleveland. it's nice, yeah?
alexei wipes the bait muck on the inside of his hawaiian shirt. it's very cool and very red, like his uniform, with blue hibiscuses and white plumerias exploding on it like fireworks. it's been a few decades since he's fished. as a child living on the edge of society, he fished almost weekly, all year round; it was a guaranteed source of protein during the dead of winter. but that stopped when he joined the red army at seventeen then later became the red guardian. he was too preoccupied with proving himself an equal to captain america to concern himself with fishing. during their (too) brief stay in ohio, he had planned on taking natasha and yelena fishing one weekend, but he got called in to work overtime at the north institute and so the trip was canceled. the next thing alexei knew, he was laying on a plane's wing, shooting out a car's tires, as they attempted to escape to cuba, so the fishing trip never happened.
but casting the line comes naturally to him. he bends his knees a little, presses the reel button with his thumb, raises the rod over his head, and buzz. he presses the button again and kerplunk. his line lands about twenty feet out โ perfect, a cast worthy of lee wulff.
with his sharp eyes on his line, alexei pulls a pack of juicy fruit from the side pocket of his cargo shorts. they are also very cool and very convenient with all the pockets. he pops a piece in his mouth and then holds out the pack to yelena. is it still her favorite? he doesn't know, but the yellow packaging reminds him of better days, warming him as the sun's rays do on the back of his neck. ) This is nice, yeah?
( yeah, he tells himself before she does. nothing bad will happen on catawba island in their spot devoid of other people. today, they will catch fish and catch up on conversations. and maybe catch some z's too. he brought a couple of lawn chairs for when they want to take the load off. solid dad thinking on his part. maybe they'll stay so late, he'll end up needing to build a small fire here and they can eat the fish right off the bone. melina won't be happy, but she'll soften when he tells her how much fun they had. just like old times โ alexei and yelena, his little buddy. )
https://i.imgur.com/ZpJ0byT.gif
it's just unfortunate she will never tell alexei that she thinks his cargo shorts are very nice and practical, or that he looks pretty cool throwing that line into the lake, nor will she ever tell him that she once dreamed about that family fishing trip they were promised.
(she was six and dead asleep after the initial panic had worn off. she remembers her older sister piloting a cargo plane while their mother guided her and their father rested on the wing of said cargo plane. the entire time? highly likely. she doesn't recall anyone opening the door mid-flight for him.)
she's seated on the cooler that melina had insisted for them to bring along. it wasn't a half bad idea either, since her mom ended up packing it with soda and sandwiches for them to snack on while baking under the sun. yelena may have slipped a bottle of vodka in there as well.
all that only for her to take the pack of gum from alexei. it's not the best one out there, and the chewing factor falls flat with a weak 3 on a scale of 1 to 10, butโ it's still her favourite. ] This is nice. You are not cold? [ he should know better than to hand things over to her, because that pack of juicy fruit now belongs to her. in fact, she is tucking it into the pocket of her hoodie for safekeeping. thanks dad!! ]
The Seventh Circle has really done a number on your sense of temperature, truly. [ among other things, but that's okay, because he's still her dad and he's here.
she wishes natasha was still here, too. it's unfair that the world is here because of her sister, but she's gone because of it. sometimes, when yelena is on her lonesome and surrounded by nothing but the sound of her thoughts, she feels sadness. unfortunately, that inevitably bleeds into anger and although she longs to hear natasha's voice againโ she looks at alexei's shirt and breaks into the widest of smiles.
it's flashy. it's a little tacky. but it's so like him. natasha would agree. ] Are you sure you know how to catch fish? It's been [ she checks her shiny new apple watch she totally didn't steal ] approximately one minute.
no subject
Catching fish is easier if two people do it. ( there's your cue yelena to get up and earn your keep. funny phrase that. another russian proverb that still rattles around in his head. in russia, everyone is expected to work and pull their weight, or else they starve. it's ingrained in their society. even before communism when the land was worked on by serfs for the tsar: work or die. the method of death varied, but it always came. but here in america, everyone helps each other, whether they deserve it or not. it was a culture shock that took alexei some time to become accustomed to, more than the resentment of being shipped off to ohio, the name change, and the sudden family.
if they were in russia, he wouldn't let her eat any of the fish he catches or also any of the food in the cooler. but, here in america, he'd let her eat all the fish and the food in the cooler even if she didn't move all day. perhaps that's getting soft from western decadence or perhaps that's just being a father.
alexei grabs the fishing rod holder he made earlier that week from pvc pipe and metal hooks, plants it in the hard compacted sand, and sticks his fishing rod in it. he grabs the other fishing rod, this one smaller than his and purple. if it had rainbow tassels and a barbie sticker, it'd look exactly like the handlebars of yelena's childhood bike. )
Come. I will teach you.
( he taught her to tie shoes, ride a bike, and throw a knife. well, she taught herself how to ride a bike after natasha kept leaving her behind because yelena was still a "training wheel-using baby" who couldn't keep up. but alexei held the bike long enough for yelena to get on and speed off after her sister.
well, fishing is the same basic principle as tying shoes, riding a bike, throwing a knife, and proving someone wrong (though the someone, in this case, are the fishes who dare think they can swim past them). she's got this. )