DmC: Goodnight
She's always waiting for him when he gets back, any day, any time. He doesn't like it when she does, doesn't think it's safe when he isn't around, but she always assures him the magic seals she's put on the shop will keep uninvited guests out. Nearly every building in the city has them now, thanks to her. It makes his job a great deal easier when people have somewhere to duck and cover and the scum don't. Less die than the old days, and less blame is on him.
There's no Limbo anymore to be pulled into, not since the demon, angel and human world merged. The portals -no matter how often she's tried drawing them- don't activate and her rubix sphere doesn't alter gravity no more than jumping up and down does. Except for the few charm spells, her box of magic tricks have broken. She sees the world the same way he does now. She can't assist him in battle, not like before. But she stays with him still. Since what happened, she hasn't left, and he doesn't know where he'd be now if she had.
When things got rough, she was the one who helped pick himself back up when all he'd wanted was to drink out the pain. She was the one that convinced him his idea of opening the shop weren't a fool's dream, who had agreed on the place he'd picked out, and had come over on every day of every morning to help him clear it out and turn it into something decent. She had been the one that'd drawn up the designs for the neon sign above the door, who had been there when he'd first switched it on and had tag along with him to pin up posters and drop off calling cards throughout the city, so when demons struck, people will always know where to call him.
She's done so many favors for him, more than any other person has and he's never asked her of anything. She's done so without him having to, not because he saved her life and is indebted to him, or that he is the brother of her ex-boss. Her reasons for sticking around are why she visits the shop more often than the days she is away, that when he leaves after putting down that phone, she'll still be waiting there patiently for him on return to make sure he makes it back in one piece.
Tonight is no different than any other night. He knows she'll be curled up fast asleep on the couch long before he's opened the door and spots her there, so dead to the world that she won't wake when he lays his coat over her or feel him when he tucks the locks of her dark hair behind her ear. He'll hit the sack that night, knowing come morning that coat of his will have been hung back up on the rack, the air smelling heavily of the breakfast, that he'll wind up hauling himself out of bed to help her serve. And when he does he'll wonder silently -as he often does whenever he catches that smile meant only for him- how it's come to this, why he lets her do what she does. Yet even so, being glad still to not to be going it alone anymore, even though he'll never admit out loud to her; he can't.
Through the good and the bad Kat is always there, and Dante wouldn't have any other way...