Being a hero takes a lot of effort, not that Kate likes to brag. Who isn't fond of saving people, having no sleep, running on fumes, being deprived of human interaction and looking after a needy dog?

Alright, it's a big list, so what? Listen, when you're coming home, a bag of chinese take out in hand, full to the brim with orange chicken and way too much chow-mein that it'll feel like yummy worms in your stomach, Kate can't complain. This certainly is the life. And in her downtime, a quiet one.

Or what would be a quiet one. If she hadn't opened her apartment door - after a subtle glance behind, to check she's safe - to a rowdy dog, which she just knows the neighbours will complain about, No Mrs. Hancock she will not be cutting Lucky's vocal cords, and an ex assassin who, suprise, broke into her apartment with apparent ease, because you're lounging on her couch,

With the dog, might she add, of whom she spent hours attempting to train. Since after a while of care free living, she learnt that maybe dog hairs everywhere and the distinct coat smell you get on furniture, isn't exactly the most appealing thing in the world. Hey, this is Kate's bachelor pad. She's gotta keep it pretty for the ladies,

At least, the nonexistent idea of ladies that motivate her to clean, as, let's be honest, her heart is pounding gratefully for the fact that she actually listened to her head yesterday and cleaned before you unexpectedly showed up,

"No warning?" Kate raises a brow, sauntering in like this was a casual thing and you were just some roommate she saw once every couple of weeks (and secretly wished to see more of), tossing her keys into a dish, perfectly, and attempting to keep the food away from Lucky because that little rat will eat anything,

"You know, it isn't polite to break and enter. Here i thought you turned to a ‘life of good’?" She mocks, plopping beside you. Good thing she got extra egg fried rice.