Meetings
‘Every day I wake up….’
Kat groans as she prys her eyes open from their sleep ridden state, and stares listlessly at the streaks of morning light that settle on her bedsheets. The light, a reminder that she is still alive and it is a new day.
‘I put on my makeup… I say a little prayer for you’
The crooning voice of Arethra Franklin wiggles its way into her foggy mind, her alarms ringtone she had set once ironically and never bothered to change, and reminds her that she needs to leave the warm cocooning comfort of her bed and face the morning.
With a long-suffering sigh, Kat stretches her arms high above her head and sighs at the familiar burn of soreness singing through her muscles. Pulling herself up and shuffling to the small decrepit kitchen of the apartment she is staked out in; Kat feels a surge of relief as the coffee machine decides to work with her for once and begins sputtering as it brews the dark elixir of the gods. Coffee. Sweet sweet relief.
“Hi, I’m Katalya! No no no, that's too peppy, ahem, hi, I’m Katalya.” Katalya shakes her head again, letting out a frustrated sigh and glaring at the mirror as if it is its fault, “Okay, let's try again. Ahem, hi, I'm Katalya, the new tour guide.”
Katalya, or Kat as she is commonly called, is glaring at herself in the mirror and trying to perfect this stupid introduction before her shift at her new job. She had landed the job as a tour guide at the National Gallery, after she had pulled some strings of course, it was all simply too easy. The reason she was practicing such a simple meeting, other than simply torturing herself for fun, is because it needs to be perfect. Today her plan would be set in motion and Kat would ‘accidentally’ bump into her target.
After weeks of planning and preparing, everything had fallen into place and Kat was finally going to complete her job and take out her target. She had researched him, she knows almost everything about him. And what she knows is that he is so incredibly boring!
Gift shoppist, fish dad, and Egyptology nerd. That is her target completely summed up.
He is so utterly boring! The only exciting thing about her life while she was observing him was that she could go help a couple of women who found themselves in dark alleys on the wrong side of town while he slept.
Kat is a woman of many talents, she isn't just an assassin, well, soon to be ex-assassin, this is her last job after all, she is also an avatar. No, not the blue people or the anime. She is an avatar for an ancient Egyptian goddess. One that had entrusted Kat with the protection of women and children, and cats. She had long since gotten over wondering if she was simply insane, and had moved onto resigned acceptance.
Bastet wasn’t the most happy with the assassin gig, but it was a great way for Kat to avoid detection when would be rapists wound up in the hospital barely alive, and it pays the bills.
So now she was here, in dreary old London, observing her target before she would eventually strike.
Why anyone would have anything against Steven, Kat has no clue. Steven, from what she had observed, is possibly the sweetest mess of human disaster that could ever exist. But, the rule is to not ask the client questions, she doesn't even know who the client is. Everything was anonymous, so whatever the reason Kat had been employed to take this human disaster out, remained unknown, but what she does know is that she will. She always succeeds.
Dressing in a rich plum blouse with golden details twisting around the smoothed down collar, Kat nearly jumps out of her skin as a voice speaks from behind her.
“This will not protect anyone.” Bastets voice, low and smooth and inexplicably dangerous, slinks through her ears as the goddess herself appears in her apartment.
Tall and imposing, Bastet stands in her purple and golden robes that wrap around her elegantly. Her large cat-like head tilts to the side as she regards her avatar with a disapproving stare. Her whiskers twitch as her slitted pupils narrow on the woman who is currently rolling her eyes at the goddess.
“I'm pretty sure being an assassin does the opposite of protecting.” Kat mutters, gently prodding at the dark bruise on her stomach that she had earned last night and hissing as it fires back its ire at being poked. She allows herself a small smirk as she remembers the broken bones she had given the man in retaliation.
“Do you truly wish to cause this man harm?” Bastet asks as Kat drops her shirt and makes her way back to the kitchen and pours herself a cup of coffee.
“It's my job,” Kat replies, trying to keep her voice neutral, “It doesn't matter what I want, I need to do this so I don’t get kicked out to the streets.”
“Mmm,” Bastet hums, her disapproval evident and unrestrained, “Very well, but do not lose yourself.”
Filling her to-go mug and letting the warmth seep into her fingers, Kat grabs her file-filled satchel and swings it over her shoulder, assuring the goddess, “I won't. I promise.”
The cat goddess observes the dark bruised circles under her avatar's eyes, the way she clutchs her bruised side as she breathes, and the hard worn sharp edges of her young face. The goddess remembers the days when she had first met Kat, the life sparkling in the young girl's eyes, and she mourns the girl Katalya had been before she had been set on this path. With a sigh, Bastet nods and lets herself fade from the small cramped apartment with a quiet ‘Goodbye’.
After Bastet disappears again, Kat releases a sigh and swings open her door, ready to start her mission.
***
The Gallery is large and imposing from the street. Its tall white pillars buffeting the entrance and displaying large banners that proudly announce new exhibits and whatnot. Kat bites back a laugh as she sees one particular banner that, incorrectly, displays seven of the Ennead instead of the proper nine. The irony of the Egyptology Gallery banner being wrong about Egyptology was not lost on her, and Kat decides to have a chat with someone about the importance of correct displays.
Entering the brightly lit building, Kat immediately recognizes the bedraggled figure of Steven as he talks to a small girl in a school uniform. Sneaking closer, Kat can't help but smile at the way Steven explains mummification to the young child. His hands waving about as he excitedly talks about metal hooks being inserted to pull out brains. Not quite what Kat would label ‘child friendly’ but the girl seems to be intrigued as Steven rambles on.
“Did it suck? Being rejected from the field of reeds?” The little girl asks innocently.
Kat covers her mouth as a surprised snort comes from her. Her muffled amusement doesn't go unnoticed though as Steven seems to suddenly realize that he has an audience, his lips pressing together in an embarrassed grimace. His large brown eyes remind Kat of a puppy, a very tired and unrested puppy, if the dark circles under his eyes are anything to go on. Kat almost feels sorry for the poor man, almost.
“I erm, uh what?” Steven stutters out, his gaze flicking from the girl to Kat who raises an amused brow at his eloquent response, “I'm not dead yet, am I?”
“I feel like you would know if you were dead,” Kat muses in her natural mixed accent that she had earned from years of travelling, it's not quite english nor french or american but something entirely unique, leaning relaxed against the glass case of a pharaoh's tomb and giving Steven a cheeky grin, “You’d be surrounded by reeds.”
Steven huffs out a nervous laugh, shifting on his feet awkwardly and looking anywhere but her eyes.
‘Interesting’ Kat thinks, filing that bit of information away for later.
“You really shouldn’t lean against that,” Steven says quietly. Shaking his head and remembering formality, Steven introduces himself, “I’m Steven, uh Grant, Steven Grant.”
“Are you always this awkward, Steven Grant?” Kat asks, bemused, his name rolling off her tongue teasingly as her eyes flit over the rumpled clothes Steven wears and cataloging all she can.
‘Slept poorly. Prefers comfort over style.’
Kat's eyes flit to where Steven's fingers twist together, tapping a furtive rhythm where they meet.
‘Nervous.’
“Not that awkwards a bad thing!” Kat is quick to assure him, “Sorry, I’m Kat. uh, Katalya. Menteuse, Kat Menteause.”
This introduction was not going how she had practiced. She had been doing this for years and yet at the first word out of Steven's mouth, her plan was wrecked and she became a bumbling mess.
‘No’ She reasons with herself, taking a deep breath, ‘This can still work. Breath, reset, relax.’
“So…Steven Grant,” Kat has to stifle another laugh as Steven's eyes widen, seemingly surprised she was still talking to him, “You wouldn't happen to know where I can check in for my first day?”
“First day?” Steven repeats, confused before his eyes clear, “Oh! You're the new tour guide!”
“That's me.” Kat chuckles, doing a weak jazz hands.
‘Oh my god, what am I doing!?’
Kat wants to slam her face into the glass case and save herself from embarrassing herself any further. Unfortunately death by museum is not an option.
“Right uh, you'll want to see the director.” Steven nods, his voice tinged with what Kat thought could be jealousy, “He would be in his office, I could walk you there if-”
“Stevie!” A shrill sharp voice barks across the museum, “That better not be you over there!”
Turning, Kat sees that the voice belongs to a woman with blonde dyed hair that fades to darker brown at the roots. Her nose is scrunched in distaste, as if Steven's very presence offends her.
Kat could strangle this woman.
“Ah Donna!” Steven exclaims, almost jumping out of his skin, muttering to himself, “Bloody hell that woman scares me.”
Kat presses her lips together to prevent the laughter that wants to spill out of her, instead giving Steven a reassuring smile, “Well, maybe another time then?”
“Right! Yes! Another time." Steven agrees quickly, a smile tugging at his lips.
“See you around, Steven Grant.” Kat chuckles, giving a wave and already planning her next moves.
Steven waves back as he starts walking back toward where Donna is still glaring at his head with distaste. When Steven stumbles over his feet and almost faceplants to the shiny floor, Kat decides it's time to go find the director before she loses her resolve anymore.
***
The director hums as he reviews her resume. He is a short squat toad of a man, his nose squished between two beady eyes. He sits in a black swivel chair, bracing his steepled hands against his chin as he leans forward and regards Kat with keen interest.
“A doctorate in Egyptology from Harvard?” The director's voice is muted but impressed, “You could have a research position with those credentials, why come here?”
Kat hopes he won’t ask about her life at Harvard, given that she never really had any. The kid she had paid to create a digital trace of her in the school's records was good, but she wasn't sure what he had included in that footprint and she doubts any of her actual college stories would make a good impression.
“I was never really one to stay stuck behind a desk.” Kat shrugs, smoothing her features into what she hopes doesn’t convey her utter boredom, “I prefer to be active, and being surrounded by artefacts everyday is just an added plus.”
Being an avatar for Bastet brought with it the need for knowledge of ancient egypt. Kat has long since done her research and is not worried about being called out as an imposter, though going by the way the Gallery had mucked up the banner, Kat thinks she will be fine even if she messes up.
The director eyes her with an appraising gaze, his beady eyes flitting over her as he stays silent for a moment. Finally, he slides back from his desk and ambles over to a filing cabinet behind him, pulling from it a manila folder and setting it infront of Kat along with a fancy fountain pen.
Flipping it open, Kat lets her eyes scan the contract and forces a pleased smile on her lips. It was the basic hiring form and did not require much thought as she scrawls her name on the dotted line at the bottom.
Was using her real name while on a job where she would be committing many many crimes smart? Gods no, for anyone else it would be insanely stupid. But Kat had little in sense of background and nobody but herself to protect, so she doesn’t mind using her real name on jobs, she would never let herself be caught anyway.
“Well Ms. Menteause,” The director holds out a large wrinkled hand to her, stumbling over her foreign name, “Welcome to the team.”
Shaking his hand, and biting back a grimace as the man squeezes way too tightly, Kat feels herself relax. Her plan was not ruined, she is back on track and as long as Steven doesn't look at her with those stupidly adorable eyes, she can complete her job quickly and efficiently.
Unfortunately, the universe is against her.
Her eyes follow Steven as she leads her first tour through the gallery. She tries to dismiss it as simply keeping her eyes on the target, just doing her job. But as she finds her eyes drawn back to the dark haired man and watches as he smiles gently at a young school boy and tells the boy fun facts about Egypt, Kat can already feel a part of her walls weakening.
Shaking her head, Kat focuses back on the tour group as she gestures to a large slab of rock that is decorated with colorful restored paintings, “The ancient Egyptians worshipped over 2,000 gods and goddesses.”
Kat observes the young faces in front of her, their mouths open in disbelieving shock. The young children's eyes look up at the stone artwork with unabashed awe, absorbing new information like a sponge and with eager excitement.
“My favorite,” Kat continues, walking over to one particular display that features a small carved statue of a large cat head on a woman's body, “Is Bastet, the goddess of women, children, and cats.”
“Cats? Why’s there a god for cats?” A little girl with bouncy pigtails asks, her face twisted in confusion.
“Well cats were very important to the ancient Egyptians,” Kat explains, leading the group over to where a tapestry depicting a cat in a halo of gold is hanging, taking smaller steps so as to walk next to the girl who had asked, “They believed that cats were magical creatures and brought good luck to people who took care of them.”
In the corner of her eye, Kat can see the tall imposing figure of Bastet nodding with a pleased, if slightly smug, smile on her feline face.
“What about dogs?” Another boy asks, his head tilted to the side and a small pout on his face, “Was there a dog god?”
“Hmm,” Kat taps her chin as she thinks, “Well there was no god specifically for dogs, but there is a god who is depicted with the head of a jackal. In fact, while ancient Egyptians did not name cats, they would give dogs what are more ‘human’ names, like George or Sparky.”
“I think there should have been a god for dogs.” The boy says grumpily, crossing his arms and pouting.
“Me too!” Another kid agrees, more and more children echoing their agreement until the Gallery was full of children's laughter as they argued over what type of dog was best and whether or not Sparky could count as a ‘human name’.
Chuckling, Kats gaze slides back to the gift shop and finds Steven already looking at her. His eyes are soft and amused in a shy sort of way, as if he wishes to speak to her but isn't sure how.
The moment his eyes widen, Kat knows he's realized he's been caught. A loud crash echoes through the gallery as Steven's arms flail as he attempts to look like he had been working but instead crashes into a display of stuffed animals, sending them crashing to the floor in a mess.
Kats peeling laughter rings out as she laughs as she has not for so long. Her laughter bubbles through her chest and the unfamiliar feeling of it brings a pleased smile to her face. Kat had lost her laughter years ago as she had settled into the bloodstained routine of her life, she worries often that she had lost all reason to find amusement. But seeing Steven being so utterly human, mistakes and clumsiness galore, brings a light to the mundane grey of her life.
With a quick word to the chaperones to wait there, Kat rushes over to where Steven scrambles to pick up the knocked over display. Kneeling down, Kat grabs a stuffed hippo and starts restacking them.
“What did these hippos ever do to you?” Kat teases, giving Steven a crooked smile.
“It was an accident.” Steven mumbles, cuffing a hand through his dark hair nervously, admitting, “I can be a bit clumsy.”
“A bit?” Kat asks dubiously, thinking back to just that morning when Steven had nearly smacked his face into the floor and all the small things he had dropped while she had been observing him.
“A lot.” Steven corrects himself, an embarrassed flush coloring his cheeks.
Setting the final stuffed animal upright, Kat stands and offers Steven her hand. Pulling him up as he says a soft embarrassed thanks, his hand fitting perfectly in hers, warm and roughly calloused.
“Well, I have to get back to my tour, god knows what an unsupervised group of children can get up to in five minutes.” Kat rolls her eyes good naturedly and ignores the way her heart melts at Steven's returned smile.
“Right, yeah uh,” Steven stutters, stepping back and rubbing the back of his neck, “I'll see you around, thanks for uh this.” Steven gestures to the display and nearly knocks it over again before Kats hand instinctively darts out to catch it.
“No problem,” Kat shrugs, walking back towards where her group waits and reselutly ignoring the fluttering of her heart.
This was going to be a lot harder than she had thought.