Chapter 1 : Desperate Measures
"Kat?" It was early in the morning and Kat was sleeping in her twin bed in Uncle Eddie's brownstone. There was only one person who could still be awake: Gabrielle.
"What?" Kat snapped. She was still recovering from a very tricky job in North Africa .
"Just wanted to congratulate you on Morocco. I know how much you hate sand." Gabrielle's voice broke and her voice sounded too cheerful for someone who was on an over ten hour flight just a few hours ago.
"What do you really want to say?" Kat asked, clearly annoyed.
The lights switched on and Gabrielle sat on the corner of her bed, her voice deadly serious. "I'm in trouble. It's life or death, Kat."
Kat laughed, this was just Gabrielle being her dramatic self. "What kind of trouble?" She asked jokingly.
Gabrielle stood up and grabbed the blanket off Kat's bed. Kat screamed but Gabrielle didn't care. She was way too angry at the way Kat was treating the situation. "This is serious! My life is in danger!"
That still did not persuade Kat, whose laughter only grew louder. "Who could possibly be after you? A crazy revenge-driven ex?" More laughter followed.
"Katarina Bishop! Just shut up and then maybe I can tell you! " There were tears forming in Gabrielle's eyes now. "Please Kat, I need your help." Kat froze.
That was the first and probably the last time Gabrielle would ask for help from her. Gabrielle looked away.
"I'm sorry Gab. I didn't mean to…" Kat stopped, took a deep breath in and asked, "Gabrielle, what kind of trouble are you in?" Her tone was steady and calm. She finally looked Kat in her eyes. "While I was in Italy a few months ago I spent a lot of money. It was Milan Fashion Week so I had to get some of the new stuff. I also had to borrow money-"
Kat looked at her suspiciously, "You always spend money all time. And you borrow money too. What's so different this time?"
"As I was saying, I borrowed tons of money but now the person I owe wants it back." Gabrielle ran her fingers through her blond locks. "I don't have the money and I'm scared." Scared? Gabrielle had never told anyone she was scared before. This was more alarming than anything else she had said before.
Kat decided she wanted to be the person to calm her down. "How much do you owe? I'm sure I can pitch in."
Gabrielle shot her a death glare. "About a few million."
"What? Millions! How did you spend that much?" Kat got out of bed and sat next to Gabrielle on her bed. "Explain. Now."
Gabrielle started to mumble about tax and custom designs that she just had to have. Something along the lines of : "Private jets are pricey, Hale should know…" It sounded like when Simon tried to explain his gadgets to Uncle Eddie. Tears were falling down her cheeks and the soft muttering turned into loud sobbing. Kat didn't know what to do or say, usually Gabrielle was not so emotional. She gave Gabrielle a soft pillow, as an awkward comfort. Gabrielle cried into it.
"Shh, don't cry Gabby. We'll fix this, please stop crying." But that didn't seem to help, the sobbing got only slower and more sluggish. "Gabby, I can help you. Just tell me what we have to do."
A long silence followed. Gabrielle finally looked up from the wet pillow. "We have to steal the Kimberly Gem."
The gasp that came from Kat's mouth was sharp and painful. "Excuse me?"
Determination was clear in Gabrielle's eyes. "You heard me. We have to steal the Kimberly Gem." The sassiness was back in her voice and Kat knew that once a genuine idea was in Gabrielle's head, there was a small chance of changing her mind.
This was starting to be too much information for Kat at once. She silently got up and walked to the door.
Before she closed the door she looked at desperate-looking Gabrielle and whispered six words that gave Gabrielle the hope she needed. "I'll see what I can do."
Line Break
Kat walked out of the brownstone in her pajamas, at four in the morning. She was clad in her old oversized hoody and clean shorts. Somehow, Kat knew that nobody would notice her unusual attire, this was New York City after all, the majority of the people awake at that unruly hour of the day were joggers and cyclists.
After a few turns, she arrived at her destination. The neighborhood McDonalds. She really craved McNuggets and fries, it made her appreciate the simple luxuries of her sometimes glamorous life.
She also wasn't the only one there at that hour. Hale was sitting at the far corner table. He didn't see her enter so she decided to order first.
The old man at the counter seemed bored and inserted her order slowly. His red and yellow uniform was faded and worn, as if it had been washed dozens of times. She was too distracted by the old uniform and handwritten name tag to notice the gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked back to find Hale. She gave a weak smile in greeting. He draped his arm over her shoulder then kissed her forehead. "Order two meals, please."And so she did.
After ordering they sat down at his formally occupied corner table. Hale sat opposite her and looked at her worryingly, "What's wrong, Kat?"
She had taken slow, lazy steps on their way to the table and that was all he needed to see to know she was upset by something. She leaned into the table with her elbows and her face in her hands, "Gabrielle needs help. She's in a bit of a situation."
He grabbed her hands and made her look at him. "What sort of situation? I'm sure we can fix it." Kat smiled softly and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted.
"Order ready!" The old man called out. She stood up but kissed his cheeks, her way of reassuring him that she'd tell him.
"I'll fetch that, then we can speak. Okay?" She looked slightly shook.
Hale nodded in response but was bothered by Kat's odd attitude. Something felt off but he didn't want to upset her any further. "Okay, Kat."
He paused then continued, he wanted to remind her of what he had said many nights before. " I'd do anything for you and the crew. You know that. Right?" He grabbed her cold hands in his warm ones,
A genuine smile came from Kat, her first in a while. "I know that. I'd do absolutely anything for you as well." She squeezed his hands and carried on walking to the counter, but with lighter, more thought-out steps. A true Bishop's steps.