My shot a introducing Kat and Hale. Enjoy! I had a lot of fun with this.


There are many people in the world who do not truly understand the meaning of the simple phrase, "I'm bored."

For example, a student who should be studying for an upcoming test is not the true definition of bored because they have a project (studying) to busy themselves with, though they may be tiered or lacking interest. A young man waiting for his mother or father to pick him up so that he could start his journey to the airport for a family vacation in Disney Land is not bored, but maybe a little anxious. A small child who has just returned home after a play date at a friend's house is not suddenly bored, he or she is just simply lacking a partner to play their games with for a moment. As a matter of fact, each of these situations describes a person who is impatient rather then bored at all, although, Hale thought, he could somewhat understand the small child's bore of playing alone, yet the child would never have to wait nearly as long for a playmate as W. W. Hale the Fifth had waited himself.

Hale knew the true meaning of bored.

Bored was waking up every day to a quiet house in the middle of anywhere Hale desired. The middle of nowhere would be far more exciting.

Bored was inheriting billions of dollars that insured Hale that he would never have to work for a single thing in his life. It also insured that Hale could pay for anything he dreamed, but after that, Hale had little to nothing left to dream for.

Bored was literally seeing the whole world before turning to the age of ten(He was fourteen now), and seeing it again was like rereading a book, Hale knew what was in it and that it wasn't going to change much. Pointless.

Bored was knowing his only friend in the world was at least fifty years older then him and that he(Hale) was technically paying him(Marcus) to stick around anyway. (Not that Marcus had anywhere else to go.)

So as far as Hale was concerned, he had every right sit around that afternoon in his favorite million dollar estate in rural New York and groan out loud, "I'm bored."

The rest of the afternoon dragged along. Hale amused himself by watching some reality show on the tele, reading a book, and browsing through a magazine as if there was anything in it Hale would interested in owning. Eventually Hale ate dinner, hand cooked by Marcus, and went back to reading his book near the fireplace in one of the main rooms of the estate.

If anyone knew W. W. Hale the Fifth, they certainly wouldn't think he would be the type to spend his time reading story books, informational books, or any books at all. And honestly, Hale wasn't the type to read books, he knew it, but that was all the more reason he did read them. But Hale didn't read just any kind of book. No, Hale had discovered an interest in only books that could teach him little, nugatory tasks, such as lock picking, pocket picking, brush passing, code translating, fake foreign accents and the like. As far as Hale was concerned, if he could do anything with the rest of his life, he would choose to be a spy. It ought to be an exciting lifestyle, wouldn't it be? Secret codes, gadgets, and fighting moves. It sounded like the life for him.

Hale sighed, stretched, and marked is place in his book, suddenly feeling anxious to get up and move around. Standing up, he accidentally bumped the coffee table, causing a small dish to start to slide off the edge. Hale quickly lunged for it, catching it just in time to save himself from a loud crash and a mess of expensive glass all over his carpet. Hale grinned to himself, catching the dish like that had made him feel like he had a superpower or something, he wondered if this is what it felt like to be a spy. He found himself glancing around, although he already knew there was no one around for him to embarrass himself in front of as he threw a few kicks and punches into the air as he imagined a spy would.

Keeping up his game, Hale moved 'swiftly' closer to the wall of the room and began to sneakily slink towards the door to the main entrance hall, but pretending that he was sneaking up on some enemy spy who would attack him if he heard Hale approach. Slowly and carefully, Hale reached the door. He paused a moment, trying to make himself truly believe that he would be finding someone evil on the other side of that door. Hale drew in a breath, and jumped into the hall shouting, "Aha!" for dramatic effect. But what Hale saw completely caught him off guard.

There, standing about only four or five yards away, was a girl. She was dressed in black from head to toe, and Hale could have sworn she looked like she was just about to take the Monet, his million dollar Monet, right off the wall where it had always been and then.. well then he didn't know where she would have gone. He stood there in the doorway with his mouth agape, but only for a second, because a real spy would never let the enemy see him surprised.

The girl didn't move, didn't flinch. She didn't even turn around. She just stayed perfectly still, her back to him, still facing the expensive Monet. Her hair was short and brown, and she looked young, maybe even a year younger then Hale himself. W. W. Hale the Fifth was awestruck.

"Who are you?" He asked the girl.


Katarina Bishop fought the urge to scream at the top of her lungs with frustration. She had spent the whole past week casing the estate. The amount of security and protection was so low that she hadn't needed any longer then that to prep herself. Of course, she had seen this boy before, during her casing, but in all of her watches he had always been so.. loud and clumsy. She had assumed if he was ever to come her way, she would at least hear his footsteps or something. His butler the opposite, but the butler had a bedtime, so Kat could easily stay clear of him. The boy, however, apparently did not.

So there she stood, caught in action, right in front of the beautiful Monet that should have been tucked under her arm and out the door by now. The boy stood at least three yards away, and Katarina seriously had no idea what to do other then wish she had taken up Simon's offer to have him just sit and keep watch while she moved.

"Who are you?" He asked her again.

Katarina couldn't help but think that if she were a normal rich kid and happened to catch a thief who was about to steal an expensive painting from her estate, her first question would be a little different, and her first reaction would be to call the police.

"Who are you?" He asked a third time.

Kat felt herself turn around so that she could see the boy who was so forcefully demanding her name, "Call me Kat," She said simply. The boy was no threat as far as she could tell, she could give him her real name.

"Cat?" He looked amused, "Meow?"

"K-A-T. Kat. Short for Katarina," She explained simply, then narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

"Call me Hale," He said with a smirk.

"Hale it is then."

"Good Kitty," He was still grinning. Kat couldn't help but think that he was kinda.. not even kinda.. but really cute. Gabrielle's type.

She rolled her eyes, "I have places to be."

Hale frowned, "Look, I'm not stupid and I can tell why you came here, but.. Don't go yet."

Kat couldn't understand why he could possibly want her to stay, "Look, Hale, I don't want to be around when Mr. and Mrs. Whatever-Your-Last-Name-Is get home, so I'm just gonna be on my way."

"Hale," He said, "That's my last name. And don't worry about my parents, they're.. on vacation. For a whole 'nother week. Trust me they wont be back any time soon."

"You want me to call you by your last name?"

"I'd prefer it."

"Well, what is your first name?"

"A true spy would never reveal his first name," He said with dignity.

"Well personally I think a last name is more confidential.." Wait what? "True spy?"

Hale just laughed at me, "Of course I'm a spy, how else could I have snuck up on you like that? Huh, Kat?"

"Your no spy."

"Yes I am."

"Why would you tell me, the girl to broke into your house, that you're a spy?"

"Who else should I tell?" He scratched his head, "Marcus?"

"Who's Marcus?"

Hale blinked at me, "If you where a spy, you'd know that there's one other person in this house."

"The butler?"

"Very good, Kitten."

He thinks I'm a spy.

Angus and Hamish were going to get a kick out of this. That was the one thing Kat knew for sure. But what Kat didn't know was that she was going to be spending a lot longer then originally planned in this mansion that night. That she was about to befriend a very lonely boy and actually reveal to him that Katarina Bishop was no spy after all, but a thief. She was going to tell him a thing or two about her world, and before she knew it, she'd be sucking him right into it, and taking him home to meet and join her family right after she fell just a little bit in love with him.

And eventually they'd be taking on jobs like this one, but succeeding. Eventually they'd be the most famous thieves in their world. Eventually the names Katarina Bishop and W. W. Hale would be as sacred as names such as Visily Romani.

But even sooner then those eventually's, W. W. Hale the Fifth was no longer going to be bored. That was for sure.

Neither of the two fully realized it that night, but it was fate that had brought them together, and would keep them together for the rest of their lives.