To Love and Blood

“So..” Bastet drawls as she sits on the kitchen counter, her tail swinging in rhythm with her long legs. Her whiskers twitch with barely concealed amusement, “You're protecting this little man now?”

“Shut up.” Kat mutters good naturedly, buttering the dry toast that had popped up from her ancient toaster, “He knows about avatars now, and there was this weird moon themed dude and a jackal, I don't know what Steven’s gotten himself into but I want to help.”

“Moon themed?” Bastet asks, her voice intrigued in that way that Kat knows means she is withholding something.

“Yeah, like there were these crescent moon knives and stuff. He also had these, like, mummy wrappings or something, he looked like a scooby doo character.”

Bastet lets out a low rumbling laugh. the vibrations, familiar and comforting, bringing a smile to Kats lips. She had been dreading going into work and seeing the mess from last night, but she knows she has to get it over with eventually.

“Welp, time to go see the chaos.” Kat says brightly, stuffing her wallet and a spare book into her satchel before grabbing her keys from their tray beside the door and swinging out into the hall.

The hallway of her building is decrepit and stinks of staleness. The puke green floral wallpaper is peeling and revealing the rotting wooden planks beneath. Water stains the roof with dark patches. Needless to say, if Kat is going to be staying in London for a while she will need to get a new place.

From the morning rush of people going to work and clogging the buses and streets, no one would guess that something was amiss in the gallery. Kat, though, knows what awaits her once she steps in the Gallery. A mess for sure.

She hopes that the chaos of the flooded bathroom will give enough distraction that Kat will be able to slip into the camera room and figure out what the hell happened last night. She wonders what had happened to Steven, if he had even seen the jackal. If he had, well, she has some explaining to do.

The gallery is abuzz. People are rushing to and fro, chatter ringing through the rooms as maintenance workers haul different wrecked sink parts out.

Kat spies Steven immediately. He stands in the middle of the entryway staring at the scene with wide eyes, like a man sentenced to death. Steven shakes his head and walks over to where JB sits lazily behind a wall of screens showing security footage. Kat follows behind him silently.

She isn't eavesdropping, simply observing from up close. Or at least that's what she tells herself.

Steven is asking JB about viewing the security footage and a jolt of panic shoots through Kat. Edging closer, Kat positions herself so she can see the screens as well. JB clicks play and they watch as the footage plays.

The grainy black and white footage shows the long shadowed hallway, empty for a moment before Stevens' figure runs across it and ducks behind a display. From the footage, Kat can see Steven breathing heavily and his mouth moving in quick inaudible mumbles.

“Is that you, Scotty?” JB asks, turning to look at Steven with surprise.

“Still Steven,” Steven reminds him, before affirming, “Yeah that's me. Watch, here it comes.”

Steven redirects JBs attention to the screen.

“Are you crying?”

“A bit, yeah a bit.” Steven admits, insisting, “Look, here it comes.”

Kats eyes stay transfixed on the screen as nothing appears. In the video, she sees Steven leap out from behind the podium and run in the opposite direction. Still nothing appears.

“How long am I waiting?” JB asks, amused.

“Different angle, yeah?” Steven asks, panic and confusion leaking into his voice.

The cameras switch to a higher angle and they wait for something to appear. Still nothing comes. No jackal to be found on the footage. Instead what it shows is Steven running into the bathroom.

“Why are you going in?” JB asks in befuddlement, engrossed in the footage, “What are you doing, you donut?”

“Wait, wait.” Steven frowns as still nothing appears, nothing to confirm his story, his memory, of that night.

From her spot behind them Kat cringes, she can't deny that this is really incriminating.

From the footage, Kat can pinpoint the moment she enters the area by the way her shadow dances on the floor. Unnoticable unless someone pays very close attention. She can also tell when she slips into the bathroom and feels her frustration at the masked man ramp up again.

“You messed up the loos!” JB accuses Steven in a harsh whisper, spinning around on his chair, “Mate! Oh god, Larry in maintenance is gonna absolutely shoot you!”

“I-I swear to god there was this dog chasing me, like this big hound,” Stevens' words tumble out of his mouth as fast as he can make them as he desperately tries to explain everything, “Egyptian jackal, it was a jackal!”

“Now I've heard everything.” JB snorts derisively, turning back to the screens.

“Fast forward to when I come out.” Steven requests, staring intently at the footage.

The grainy footage resumes normal speed as the door swings open. At this point in the night, Kat had been stuck to the wall and cursing the masked man out.

Staring at the footage, Kat feels lead drop in her stomach. There, standing in full view of the camera and staring directly in the lens, is a man with curly dark hair and a deep scowl. The only thing Kat can think is: ‘that's not Steven’.

Sure, it looks like Steven, down to the last detail. But it isn't him. Where Steven walks with a closed off position, this man is walking confidently out of the camera's view. Not only that, but Kat is absolutely sure she hadn't seen anyone looking like Steven that night and the only person she had seen that night was the stupid masked man.

Steven seems to come to the same conclusion as he mutters, “That's not me.”

“I need to report this bruv.” JB says, looking at Steven like he's mental.

JB stands and turns before Kat has a chance to duck out of sight. Kat stares at him wide eyed, frozen.

“Oh, hey Katalya.” JB smiles, walking past her and not seeing the grimace Kat sports at the use of her full name.

At the sound of her name, Steven whirls around. His mouth opens and closes like a goldfish as neither of them break the silence.

“How, uh, how much of that did you see?” Steven asks hesitantly, eyes darting around as he fiddles with his fingers.

Kat thinks of lying for a moment, sparing Steven the embarrassment and saying she had seen nothing. But she’s already lying to him about who she is, she’s already lying about everything.

“All of it?” Her voice pitches higher as she grimaces and gives Steven an apologetic look.

“Right.” Steven sighs, about to say something else before the intercom interrupts him, calling Steven to the security office.

Steven leaves without saying anything, his shoulders hunched in on himself with defeat.

With the computers vacant, Kat sits in one of the chairs and rewinds the tape. She plays that grainy footage over and over again until she knows it by heart, and still it's always the same. Always Not-Steven exiting the bathroom, no moon themed idiot in sight.

Kat’s starting to think she has made it all up, that there was no masked moon man. But she knows she had seen him, now she just needs to find out how that man can possibly look exactly like Steven.

Knowing there is nothing more she can draw from the footage, Kat grabs her satchel and walks to the gift shop, deciding to wait for Steven there. Unfortunately, Donna is the only one there.

She’s talking to another tour guide, her voice still shrill and obnoxious as always. She’s talking loudly, so loud that Kat can hear her from across the gift shop.

“I honestly can't believe they didn’t sack him sooner,” She is saying, mocking laughter in her voice, “Absolutely useless as an employee.”

Kat frowns as the tour guide laughs. She doesn’t know who they’re talking about, but she thinks they can at least be nicer. Honestly, if an assassin thinks you are mean, that says something. Kats fingers tap a soundless rhythm against her bag strap as she shifts from foot to foot, how much longer will Steven take?

“That Steven Grant, what a nutter.” Donna cackles, a mirthful smile on her brightly painted lips.

In two seconds Kat has Marched up to Donna, squaring her shoulders and punching the woman right in her annoying face. In two minutes, Kat has been walked to the directors office and promptly sacked.

Walking down the steps of the Gallery with her head held high, Kat is relieved to see Steven sitting on a park bench and talking to the man painted in gold. He seems, not quite sad, disappointed, but not sad. He seems to have a resigned acceptance.

“Hey.” Kat greets with a meek wave, taking a seat beside him.

“Do you think I'm crazy?” Steven asks immediately, turning to face her.

“Nope, not at all.”

Steven lets out a relieved laugh, his mood lighting its burden slightly, “Well, that's one person at least.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Steven speaks again, “I got sacked.”

“Yeah.” Kat nods, her voice soft as she keeps her eyes on the people passing by, “Me too.”

Stevens eyes widen as he looks at her questioningly, “You did? Why?”

“I punched Donna.”

“Oh.” Steven's eyes go comically wide as his mouth gapes like a fish, unsure of what to say in response.

“Yeah.” Kat chuckles before fully devolving into laughing, her stomach cramping at the sides as it bubbles through her.

Steven joins her laughter as well, the two of them looking completely ridiculous as they sit together on this bench and peel with laughter. A few people stop to stare at them but none say anything. Eventually, Kat sobers from her giggles, her face staying warm and tingly as her cheeks puff with her wide bright smile. Stevens' hair is messy and his cheeks are a rosy red, his eyes crinkling at the sides, so much better than the resigned dullness of before.

“So, we can both agree that the guy in those tapes is not you,” Kat begins once she's able to stop smiling, continuing when Steven nods, “So…what now?”

Steven thinks, his lips pursed in that certain way that Kat finds amusing, wanting to trace the creases of his face and map it all out, “I did find things hidden in my flat.”

“We can start with that then.” Kat says encouragingly, a smile brightening her face.

Standing up, she holds out a hand that Steven takes, and together they walk down the street. Steven explains that he found a key to a storage unit squirreled away behind a cupboard along with a phone a couple days ago. Kat accepts everything easily and without judgment, she knows weirder things happen and exist. She literally works for a cat goddess, she's not in a position to judge. Honestly, Kat just wants to help uncover this mystery in any way she can and be there for Steven.

As they walk, the London sun smiling down on them cheerily, following the directions on Kats phone, Kat tells Steven about her time in the states. She’s determined to keep Steven from spiraling in his thoughts and so she babbles about anything she can to distract him. In her experience, distraction is the best remedy when she is troubled with something she can’t instantly fix. Kat hates not being able to fix things. It is a fatal flaw of hers, her need for everything to have a neat solution that wraps things up nicely. Life rarely has those and it drives Kat crazy sometimes.

They arrive at a squat building bearing a cardinal red square billboard atop its roof with a bold J printed on it. Steven and Kat look at each other, Kat shrugs and together they walk in.

Inside it has the clean clinical smell of a business trying to cover up the stench of mold. One downside of being a cat goddesses avatar is the keen sense of smell you're bestowed with, everything about this business smells shady. Wrinkling her nose, Kat fights back the gag at the strong scent of Axe body spray wafting from the man who sits at the desk looking bored out of his mind.

“Hiya.” Steven walks to the desk, giving an awkward wave and drumming his fingers nervously against the short wall separating the desk from the rest of the room.

“Hey,” The worker says shortly, not looking up from his computer.

Kat sighs and rolls her eyes, this guy’s not eager to help at all. Pasting her most charming smile on, Kat saunters over to the counter and leans over the short wall and bats her eyelashes a few times to complete the effect.

“This is the fifth branch we’ve been to.” Kat pouts, playing up her helplessness and letting her hair fall over her shoulders in waves of dark brown that frame her face, “We’re looking for a storage locker under the name 'Steven Grant’?”

The man at the desk is now giving her his full attention and nods quickly. His eyes move over her form and Kat clenches her fists where they’re tucked out of sight under her arms. Her skin prickles uncomfortably but she’s used to this, instead of reacting to her uncomfortableness, she instead just smiles wider. Behind her, Steven frowns at the man, his expression bordering on murderous as he watches the man's eyes trail over Kat.

“If it's not under ‘Steven Grant’, it might be under Marc? I don't have a surname, just Marc.” Steven adds from behind the cat, keeping his eyes deliberately on the room around them instead of Kat as she leans over the wall.

“Could you take a look for us?” Kat asks, leaning forward even more and pinning the employee with a pleading gaze, “Please?”

The man gulps and nods, turning to his computer, about to start typing before he pauses and looks back at Steven.

“I know you.” The worker says, grabbing Steven's attention, “Number 43, right?”

Stevens mouth opens and closes, saying nothing as he’s caught off guard, he's frozen.

With a fake easy giggle, Kat turns back to the guard and fixes on a sugary sweet voice, “Of course! How did you know?”

The worker preens under her attention, his chest puffing out proudly as he brags, “I never forget a face.”

The worker grabs a key and stands, leading them to the unit while sending glances back to Kat as he continues to brag about his ‘skills’. Kat smiles and laughs at all the right moments and within minutes of meeting, she has him wrapped around her finger. Kat wouldn't call herself attractive, more mundane looking in her opinion, but she knows how to work a person over and create an ideal image of her in their mind.

Beside her, Steven stares down at the floor, a frown on his face and a tightness to his shoulders. Everytime she laughs at one of the workers' horrible jokes, the tense line of his shoulders raises and his frown deepens. Kat brushes it off as his nerves of potentially uncovering what has been happening to him.

Finally the worker opens the unit door and leaves, not before not so subtly flirting with Kat once more. It takes so much control to not just kick this guy into the next dimension and be done with him.

After he finally leaves, Kat lets out a deep sigh and drops her act. Her sugary sweet smile dropping into a scowl and her arms uncrossing to reveal the fists that have pressed deep angry crescent moons into her palms.

“Next time, you're doing the flirting.” Kat declares as she shakes off the crawling in her skin.

“Next time?” Steven questions, utterly confused at Kats change in behavior from before.

“Yeah, the next time we need to break in somewhere.”

Kat says it like it's the most obvious thing, like the idea of staying with Steven throughout this weird mess is normal and right. The realization that Kat is actually going to help him, is going to be by his side while the rest of his world falls apart, sends a warm rush through him and brings a light flush to his cheeks, his irrational anger at the employee entirely forgotten.

“Right, breaking into places, definitely going to do that more often.” Steven jokes, a goofy smile on his face as his heart flutters in his chest.

“You never know,” Kat says with a teasing grin, bumping her shoulders against Stevens, “We might be the next Bonnie and Clyde.”

Steven laughs, a free and beautiful sound, “I'm way too British for that.”

“Fine, Bonnie and Steven the brit.” Kat amends with a wide grin.

“Aren't you British too?” Steven asks curiously, his head tilting to the side with confusion. Honestly her accent has always confused him. It’s a mix of different dialects and sounds that all come together as this unique voice that is purely Kat.

Kat shakes her head, “No, I'm originally from France actually. But I travel a lot and I pick up on different accents.”

“The States right?” Steven remembers from their conversation in the park.

“Yeah, the States, East Asia, India, Middle East, Africa.” Kat shrugs, “Basically everywhere.”

Kat can't go into why she has been all over the world. She can’t explain why she picks up and copies accents as easily as breathing water, she can't explain that it is always adapting to survive. Instead, she redirects Steven's attention by nodding to the still closed unit door.

“So, are you going to go in?”

Steven turns to the door, his mirth from before forgotten as he is faced once again with the mystery of Marc, “Right, might as well.”

Slowly he pushes the heavy door open and looks around the space. Kat follows in after him and stays back against the silver reflective wall, silent as she gives Steven a moment to take it in.

The room is familiar and yet so different to Kat. The cot pressed against the wall with a perfect view of the door and the rest of the room, the stacked crates against the wall, the single duffle bag in the middle. It’s all so reminiscent of how Kat travels, how she sets up for different jobs. The bare minimum and all her important belongings stuffed in a single bag for a quick get away.

While Kat absorbs all this with a calm exterior, Steven is beginning to freak out. His hands shake as he slowly spins around to see everything.

“No way,” He shakily whispers, “it's real. It's all real.”

Kat is about to step forward and take Stevens shaking hands in hers, but before she can, Stevens' head turns sharply to look at the reflective wall across from him.

“Marc?” Steven asks the wall, eyes trained on the wall and seeming to hear something she cannot.

To Kat, the wall is blank, only showing Steven's own reflection back at them.

“Steven?” She hesitantly grabs his attention, concern painting her face, “What is it? What do you see?”

“He's there,” Steven points at the wall, his reflection doing the same, “Marcs standing right there, can you not see him?”

Kat slowly shakes her head, an apologetic look in her eyes, “I can only see you.”

Stevens shoulders hunch in, as his face becomes pained. Kat walks up and rests her hand on his slumped shoulder, letting the weight of it remind Steven that she is there with him and for him.

“Right.” Steven sighs, resigned, and turns his attention back to the wall, “Hello there man in the mirror, was wondering when you'd show up.”

“A bit yeah.” Steven responds to something the mirror man says.

“Steven,” Kat grabs his attention again, “What's he saying?” She pauses as a thought comes to her, “What's he look like?”

“Uh, like me,” Steven tells her, swallowing thickly, “Exactly like me.”

“And what's he saying?” Kats asks again, looking at the wall and trying to see what Steven sees.

“That I wasn't supposed to see this.”

“It's a bit late for that now, isn't it?” Kat asks the wall reflection, raising a mocking brow.

There's a pause where Kat assumes the reflected man is speaking, saying something that makes Steven frown.

“Am I like a mad secret agent?” Steven talks to the wall, stammering as he speaks, “Or am I possessed? Are you a demon?”

At that, Kat snorts and covers her mouth, mumbling from beneath it, “I hardly think you're in Poltergeist, Steven.”

“There's a man who looks like me talking to me in my reflection, I hardly think it's out of the running.”

“Demon possession is not even close to being in the running.” Kat rebuffs and turns back to the wall reflection, asking, “Are you the one who messed up the loos?”

She can't hear Marc's response, but based off of the way Steven's hands clench into fists and he glares at his reflection, she can guess that it's a yes.

There's a long silence as the man in the mirror assumedly speaks to Steven, before Steven interrupts with a shocked and offended, “Are you joking? Sleep? I'm never going to sleep again!”

“What is it?” Kat looks to Steven then back to the wall, “What's wrong?”

The chill of the unit brushes over Kats skin, making goosebumps raise on her arms. The cool clinical feel of it makes the area feel suffocating despite having plenty of room.

“He says he can ‘save me’, that I'm in trouble and should just take a nap and let him out.” Steven scoffs, shaking his head with adamant disagreement.

“Well you do have a guy who walks around with glass in his shoes coming after you…” Kat points out softly, words careful and slow so as not to offend Steven, “If he can help with that, it might be worth sleeping for a bit?”

Kat cringes at her words. They are clumsy despite her attempts and she fumbles with a way to speak them without offending Steven. Based on his crestfallen face, she didn't succeed.

Steven quickly rounds back on the mirror man, pointing at him with a shaking finger and saying, “Look, I don't care how bloody handsome you are mate..”

‘Wait. If Marc looks like Steven… did Steven just call himself handsome?’ Kat wonders, hiding a grin behind her hand as she has to agree with Steven, he is handsome, unfairly so.

“Tell me what it is you are.” Steven demands, voice wobbling with desperation to understand, to know what's happening to him, “What are you?”

A silence.

“Konshue?” Steven questions his reflection, “The Egyptian god of the moon?”

Kats stomach drops as a chill comes over her. She has a sneaking suspicion of what Marc is telling Steven, what Marc is. Harrow had hinted at avatars, had told Steven of their existence, but Kat had wanted Steven to dismiss it as fiction. The world of avatars is dangerous and unpredictable, Steven shouldn't be dragged into it.

“Oh god, that is ridiculous!” Steven shouts at his reflections, “I eat one piece of steak and bam! I go bonkers.”

“I hardly think eating a steak is causing this.” Kat mutters, keeping her eyes on the ground, afraid that if she looks at Steven she might just spill it all and tell everything, lose everything.

“Oh god I'm having a panic attack.” Steven wheezes, his breaths shallow and unsure, never fully expanding or contracting. A frozen limbo of air restriction.

Marc must still be talking as Steven slides down the wall and keeps shaking his head resolutely, denying everything and burying his head in his hands.

“You.” Kat points at where she thinks Marc might be, a commanding tone and glare on her face, “Shut up.”

Kat crouches in front of Steven and guides his shaking hands to her heart, letting it rest there as she brings Stevens eyes to hers, “Breath, Steven. Match me.”

Kat takes deep exaggerated breaths, keeping a steady rhythm with her heart. Her hands rest on the sides of Steven's face, warm and soft, and she searches his eyes as he calms down. Slowly his breathing returns to normal, his eyes lose their haziness and become alert and focused again. She stays there, letting time pass as she keeps instructing Steven to breathe and relax.

“Better?” Kat asks, slowly retracting her hands from his face and offering a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” Steven breathes, staring at her in wonder, admiration glowing in his eyes, “Yeah, I'm good.”

“Steven,” Kat begins softly, trying to soften the blow of what she is about to say. Her heart pounds and she takes Stevens still shaking hands in hers, “I think you may have DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

Kat bites her lip nervously as she watches Steven go through many different emotions. Confusion first, then comes disbelief, and shock.

“So what? This Marc man is in me?" Steven asks, glancing at the wall warily.

Kat purses her lips as she thinks of how to put it, she’s no expert by any means and she worries she will say something wrong, “It's like, there's two people sharing the same body? Although this is a bit different from the usual…”

“Right.” Steven chuckles weakly, burying his face in his hands with a groan, “I've gone mad.”

“No you haven't.” Kat reassures him, gently pulling his hands from his face, “It's a condition like any other. We can figure it out together. You're not alone, Steven.”

Steven stares at her, his face so open and vulnerable. No mask to cover the pure adoration in his eyes. It’s as if he has never been offered such a simple kindness before. This though makes Kat burn, the idea that Steven has been so deprived, sending anger through her veins.

Slowly, Kat stands and offers her hand to Steven to pull him up. With Steven calmed, Kat turns her attention to the duffle bag in the room that sits innocuous on the military made cot set against the wall. Cautiously, she opens it and peers inside. She’s not surprised by the contents, merely disappointed that Steven is dragged into this mess.

Inside the black duffle is stacks of currency from all around the world, multiple passports bearing different names and origins but all showing the same man in each picture. He looks like Steven, but also somehow looks nothing like Steven. It’s odd, the face is the same but the hard lines are more set, the eyes are heavy with a deep guilt and hardness honed over years, his whole demeanor is different from the sweet gentle Steven Kat knows.

“Marc Spector.” Kat reads aloud from a US passport, “Born in Chicago, March 9th, 1987.”

Marc must have said something about taking the passport from Kat, because Steven responds with a proud, “Nah mate, I think she can see whatever she wants.”

A warmth spreads through Kats chest, watching Steven puff his chest out and posture at the man in the reflection. But upon looking back in the bag, her smile falls.

“Steven…” Kat begins hesitantly, slowly pulling a gun from within the bag and checking that the safety is on before showing Steven, whose eyes widen as big saucers, “Steven, this is bad.”

Kat had suspected it before, but now she is sure. Marc is a killer, professionally. The bag is exactly like the one she stores under her own bed, it’s a standard practice for anyone who needs to escape countries quickly. Marc, whoever he is, is not good news.

With a new confidence, Steven turns back to his reflection, “You want my body yeah?”

“Steven…” Kat warns. She knows that poking a bear is never a good idea.

“Well how about this, Marc.” Steven spits the name like an insult, “I'm gonna take this bag full of illegal shit, yeah? And I'm gonna go straight to the authorities, they're gonna lock me up so I don't hurt anyone else.”

Despite her growing worry, Kat feels her heart warm as she processes Steven's words. Of course the adorable idiot would risk his freedom just so no one gets hurt. He is a kind soul, so different from Kats dark and damaged one.

Steven snatches the bag and runs out of the room, duffle tucked tightly to his chest. Kat dashes after him, shouting his name, as the lights above begin flickering with loud thuds above them. Steven runs quickly, darting around different units at random. Kat struggles to keep up as he keeps ducking out of sight in this maze of storage units.

After one particular turn, Kat loses him completely. Swearing harshly, Kat runs a hand through her hair, messing it up even more than before, and turns back the way she came. She runs out past the units and finds a door leading outside. Pushing it open, Kat emerges from the darkness into the bright blinding light of midday London.

Circling the building, Kat waits for Steven to emerge. She is thinking of ringing him, before she’s suddenly pushed to the ground as someone collides with her. Her first instinct is to shove whoever's on top of her off, but before she can, she recognizes the dark curls tickling her nose.

“Ya know, when I say I want someone to sweep me off my feet, this is not what I mean.” Kat teases as Steven seems to suddenly realize that there is someone under him.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” Steven apologizes with reddened cheeks, pushing himself to his hands so he isn't lying directly on top of Kat, who grins up at him cheekily.

“It's all good, I don't really mind the view.” She winks, watching with amusement as Steven's cheeks flush an even darker red.

Kat is about to continue her teasing before a voice from above interrupts them.

“Marc?”

A woman's voice asks, a motorcycle stopping just in front of where Kat and Steven lay on the asphalt. Turning her head to look past Steven, Kat sees a woman who looks like she's seen a ghost. Her dark curly hair frames her face and highlights her eyes that are staring at Steven. She’s beautiful.

“Where have you been?” The woman asks Steven sternly, not having noticed Kat just yet.

“Layla?” Steven questions unsurely, the name feeling unfamiliar and strange on his lips.

“Hi, I’m Kat, I'm very lost right now.” Kat speaks up from beneath Steven, bringing both of their attention to her.

Laylas frown deepens as she takes in Kat and Steven, “What the hell are you doing to this poor girl.”

“What?” Steven asks dumbly, at a loss for how to proceed.

Gently, Kat pushes Steven off of her and stands, pulling him up with her. Brushing her dress pants off, she will definitely need new ones, Kat runs a critical eye over Layla, accessing.

‘Newly divorced’ Kat notes, glancing at the fading line from where a wedding ring would be, ‘Egyptian. Works with her hands. Angry’

Subtly, Kat shields Steven slightly behind her as she accesses Layla for any signs of being a threat. With everything she knows of Marc so far, if this Layla woman knows him then she may be dangerous too.

“Where too?” Layla asks, tossing Steven a helmet, glancing at Kat and determining she doesn't need one.

“I'm sorry, what?” Steven asks, turning the helmet in his hands.

“You two need a ride and we,” Layla gestures between her and Steven, “Need to talk.”

She says it so firmly with no room for any argument.

A few minutes later, the three of them are crammed on Layla's bike and rushing through the streets with Layla scolding Steven as she drives and Kat sitting behind them and decidedly staying out of it.

Kats arms hold loosely around Stevens waist, she has ridden motorcycles plenty of times in much more dangerous situations, ones often involving being shot at while she winds through tight alleys and streets in the dark of night. Compared to that, this ride is a dream. Steven is not so comfortable. His arms are wrapped tightly around Layla, holding on for dear life as he squeezes his eyes shut from the view of cars passing fast around them.

“What the hell is going on?” Layla is asking Steven, incredulousness barely withheld in her voice, “Is this ‘Steven’ the latest fake identity for you? I figured you were using a coded message when we spoke on the phone.” Layla looks back and her eyes catch Kats, narrowing with suspicion, “And who the hell is she? What did you drag her into now?”

“I’m a…” Kat momentarily pauses, because what is she?

She has known Steven for a week, well, more like Steven has known her for a week. But despite the lack of time, being with Steven, talking to him and comforting him, it all feels like second nature.

“I'm a friend.” Kat finally finishes, turning her gaze out to the buildings passing by and unaware of how Steven's shoulders slump at her answer. Ignoring the strike of pain in her heart, Kat asks a different, more pressing question, “How did you find us?”

“How do you think?” Layla asks like it's such an obvious thing, “I tracked Marcs phone,” Layla's attention turns to Steven, “I thought you wanted me to do that when you turned it on.”

After Steven silently gawks at Layla for too long, Kat pokes him in the side and prompts him to say something.

“Right, yeah.” Steven agrees weakly.

‘I really need to work on his lying.’ Kat decides to do that once they are alone again. ‘God knows with this mess he'll need to be able to be convincing at least a little bit.’

Layla glowers at the red light in front of them, biting at Steven, “Ya know, you really could have given me any sign you were alive! I thought you were in danger, or kidnapped again.”

Kats heart wells with empathy, she knows all too well that worry. The fear that anything could have happened and you were not there to help. Flashes of Kats sister's pained face makes her close her eyes tightly and force the images away.

“I just kept thinking, ‘he's got the suit, hell be fine.’” Layla continues, “Then I thought, ‘what if he's ambushed when he's not wearing it?’ and ‘what if he doesn't have it’ and..” Layla stops talking to glance at where Steven's hands are holding onto her shoulders tightly, “And stop clasping my shoulder like that!”

Steven immediately removes his hand with a guilty look, quietly admitting, “I don't know where to hold.”

Layla rolls her eyes and mutters, “Feel like I'm riding with a Victorian duchess.”

Kat snorts and Layla looks back and smiles at her, a moment of connection passing between them.

Taking pity of Stevens ' cluelessness, Kat leans up to whisper in his ear, “Wrap your arms around her torso, like I'm doing to you, and hold on.”

Steven gives her a grateful smile and does as she tells him to, not quite comfortable on the bike but relaxing a bit more.

“Do you see the spiral you put me through?” Layla says, focusing back on scolding Steven, “It's not okay, yeah? I'm still your wife.”

If Kat wasn't holding on so tightly to Steven, he would have fallen right off the bike. In fact, Kat would have fallen with him as a gasp escapes her and her muscles freeze.

‘Marc has a wife? Who the hell is this guy?’

“By the way, this would be a great time for you to say something, anything.” Laylas says into Steven's silence, “Just in case it's not clear.”

“Sorry,” Steven automatically responds and seems to find his voice, “Sorry, did you say wife? My…are we married?”

Stevens' voice becomes high as he chokes out the words, worried eyes glancing back at Kat. Layla huffs and glares back at Steven while Kat feels very much like she should not be watching this unfold.

“Look, I'm sure we lost whoever was chasing you, just drop the act.” Layla keeps her eyes ahead as she speaks but the white of her knuckles as she grips the handles are enough to give away her feelings.

“It's not an act, I…”

“And stop,” Layla loudly interrupts, “With the accent, please.”

“This is how I talk..” Steven hesitantly tells her.

“Okay.” Layla decides, pulling the motorcycle over and stopping, ordering, “Get off the bike. Kat, you can stay if you want.”

“Thanks?” Kat says with confusion, giving Steven a pointed look that clearly said to ‘fix this’.

“Wait wait!” Steven pleads, his brown eyes large and puppylike, “Please, please I will tell you everything, yeah? Just..” Steven sighs, “Just get me to my flat? Take me home, please?”

‘He can't lie worth a damn but he can definitely plead.’ Kat thinks, amused.

Layla thinks about it hard before scoffing and beginning to drive again as Steven gives her directions.

The drive to Stevens flat is tense and quiet. Stevens fingers tap rhythmically against where Kats hands are held around his torso, he seems unaware of this action and Kat finds it too adorable to mention it and risk him stopping. Kat catches Layla's eyes in the rear view mirror and gives an apologetic smile. Kat understands that this must be extremely confusing for the woman, and she wonders how she and Steven will explain everything happening.

As they stop at Steven's building, Kat is struck with the knowledge that she will be seeing the inside of his flat for the first time. It feels intimate in a way, even if it’s only because Steven has a surprise wife and a man in his head is trying to get control of his body.