A/N: This story was inspired by another fanfic that I read in a completely different fandom. The story was in Russian and the fandom was for the Russian telenovela Bednaya Nastya. Obviously, I changed quite a bit of the story to fit this fandom, but if you see any similarities, please note that I give full credit to author Зануда and her story Шутки судьбы.

Chapter 1. Meet and Not Greet

Jack POV

Monday. 4AM.

I am back. Dog tired and dirty as a pig. My tact gear is sooty, my hands reek of gunpowder. I smell of death. Eyes' red like rabbit's - bloodshot since I haven't slept for three days. I wrote my mission report on the way home in the copter. It's a habit that saves time afterword. Now I am done. Three days of rest. Don't know what I'll do this time, but right now I can only think of sleep.

I am back. Alive. Not injured. This mission no one got hurt. Much. Jerry got a bullet graze on his shoulder. It's nothing - just another scar. There wasn't even any need for stitches. Got away with bandages and several mentions of "putas."

Damn! This elevator is so slow. With each floor the backpack gets heavier… Third floor… I only wish for a hot shower… Fourth floor… Maybe a hot meal… Sixth floor… Warm soft bed… Seventh floor… Finally. Door. Keys… Home.

Blindly, I turned the lights and … stop stunned. Joan, that crazy woman! What possessed her to clean this place? I only asked to feed Tip-Tip… It's awesome. The hallway is spotless, the mirror is clean. No signs of cat's surprises and fur. This is a first.

Not wanting to ruin Joan's work, I undress in the hallway and proceed to the living room. Which is also spotless. Joan is on fire! Tip-Tip is lounging on the sofa. But looking at Tip-Tip closely I see that he got fatter. And lazier. He barely looked my way. As if he hasn't spent a week in this apartment by himself. I must rate below even his old scratch post. This cat… Why do I even bother? I ended up with Tip-Tip after Rudy, my old sensei married and his wife was allergic to cats. He moved to a small town and last I heard opened a small dojo to teach kids.

OK, time to shower. WITH HOT WATER! Ah, bliss. Tact gear is awesome and all, but not after a whole week on a recon and a hostage extraction. Moving on: clothes to wash, socks to burn, body to scrub.

Water… hot… rough scrubbing all over, especially hands. Wash off the smell of gunfire and death… Now to contrast with cold water… I am alive.

Skipping toweling (too lazy to get a clean one from the closet) I check myself in the mirror. In a week I practically grew a beard. OK. Shaving will wait till tomorrow. Same with scruffy hair. Dark circles under eyes only a good night sleep will cure. I still look dead on my feet, but at least I resemble a human now. I did not bother with sleep clothes. Just boxers will do.

Now to eat. God, I shudder to think about the fridge. I did not have much to begin with. Being a single man with no roommates will do that, but even the frozen dinner would be like manna from heaven now.

Kitchen… is also clean. This cleanliness is habit-forming and I am in danger of being addicted. Even windows are clean! Tip-Tip's bowl has remnants of some food. At this point it looks almost appetizing. It does not look like the cat food from the can. Is he eating a stew? I want stew as well. Very, very much. Right now I'd eat cat's food from the can, but I doubt there is any left. Right, so I guess grocery shopping has to happen soon.

Fridge… does not have moldy food. It is, you guessed it, clean. Oh, and there is a container with Tip-Tip's stew. I'm going to eat it. Tip-Tip needs to lose some weight anyway. The food is delicious. If Joan wasn't a few decades older than me, I'd marry her right now. Cleaning and cooking and feeding Tip-Tip… I mean, seriously.

The food wasn't nearly enough, but it will do till the morning. Throwing the bowl and spoon into the sink I nearly crawled to my bedroom and finally collapsed in bed.

Jack POV

Monday. 7:30AM

What the hell? Who is trying to break into my place? It's too early for it to be Joan. But, someone IS messing with the lock. This is unbelievable. Not only the robbers are trying to break into my place, they are doing it while I am here. Shameless, really. I did not even get enough sleep. For this they will pay.

I got off bed and silently walked to the bedroom door. Whoever was breaking in finally got the door open and went straight to the bookshelves. What do they need form there? Only it's not 'they' – it's a 'she.' I can see through the crack small feet in socks passing by. I am impressed: the robbers now take off their shoes. This is getting weirder and weirder. OK, time to sort this out.

I quietly opened the door and approached the intruder. It's almost cute. This tiny girl was sitting on the floor, with her back to me, while searching the old sheet music compilations that I got from my mom. Not that I play much. And certainly not the piano, but it was a sentiment that mattered. Mom loved her old piano and used to play when I was little. I picked up guitar playing, mostly to impress girls. Still, mom and I shared this connection to music and her old sheet music was something I treasured.

The girl seemingly found what she was looking for and pulled one album out. Time to make myself known…

Just as I reached to grab her, the girl sprung up and twisted her body to face me. I had enough time to note her speed when she threw a punch at me. Impressive… But not enough to catch me by surprise. Not to brag, but I got my black belt in extreme martial arts when I was a teenager. Since then I went on to become part of the elite tactical team dealing with domestic terrorism. We all are good at any form of combat, but my forte is hand to hand.

The girl clearly had some training, but was no match to me and soon I had her pinned on the floor face down.

Kim POV

Monday. 7:30AM

I have to be quick. I have barely enough time before the class starts… Oh this slow elevator… Why hasn't it been upgraded? It's OK… I still have an hour to make it to the university. All I need is to 'borrow' the sheet music for the Handel's Concerto Grossi. Why, oh, why did I lend my copy to Grace? Now I must improvise. It should be alright. Joan said that the owner of the apartment isn't going to be back for another couple of days. By then I should be able to return the borrowed sheet music and no one needs to worry about anything.

Finally, seventh floor… This lock is tricky. The whole week I was struggling to open it. OK, I am finally in. Shoes off and to the living room. Here is Strawberry. Such a sweet cat and so friendly… I can only hope that his human is the same and this arrangement that I made with Joan will continue. OK, not need to dwell: we'll talk when the he is back.

Bookshelves. Sheet music is on the bottom. I go through all the compilations. I know I've seen Handel's music here… Suddenly I feel presence behind me. This uncomfortable feeling that someone is looking at me. It is almost as if someone is about to attack me. I jumped while spinning around and threw a punch on instinct. My fist was caught by a scary nearly naked dude. I try to fight him, but I am rusty and he is good. Very, very good. Before I knew it, he wrestled me to the ground.

I don't know what to expect, but I am terrified. I only got a brief look at his face but he looks scary with scruffy beard, hair and various scars on his body. He is also heavy pinning me down to the floor. I swallow past the fear and anxiety and plead "Don't hurt me!"

"Who are you?" the dude's voice sounds tried but curious. "And you?" I don't know what made me say that.

"Are you kidding me right now? You break into someone else's apartment and question me? Should I repeat myself, sweetheart?" he said and squeezed my throat a little.

Jack POV

Monday. Around 8AM

I must say, the girl has nerves of steel. Here she is defeated and questions me like she has a right to do so. "Are you kidding me right now? You break into someone else's apartment and question me? Should I repeat myself, sweetheart?" I say and squeeze her throat a little.

"I clean here" was the reply. Riiight. "And who hired you? I hope you get paid well."

Go on and lie to me, sweetheart. I am all ears. She is trembling, but trying to control herself. Her skin is warm and velvety under my fingers. Her face is small with delicate features, but looks too drawn. Is she an addict? Does not look like it… Must be poor diet and lack of sleep… She looks so young with two low pony tails and glasses. I almost feel sorry for her.

"Joan asked me to help her clean and feed the cat." My musings were interrupted. "She couldn't do it herself. And the owner of this place is supposed to be back in a couple of days." Oh… I took my hand off her throat and got up. "I am stumped. Why did you go for the sheet music?" The girl lifted herself off the floor in one fluid movement and put some distance between us.

"I have piano class today and needed the Handel's Concerto. My own copy is with a friend and I had no time to get it from the library. I knew that the owner here had copy. So I thought I'll borrower it. And feed the cat."

I shook my head. It's all clear now. I unnecessarily scared this girl, like a monster from a closet. I can only imagine what she thinks of me now. I should try and smooth thing over. I smiled and asked "Did you feed Tip-Tip luxury home-made meals?" The girl - I should really get her name - frowned. "Tip-Tip?" she repeated, confused. "My cat." "Your cat? So you are the owner?" she looked wide-eyed. Something does not add up.

"Who did you think it was?" The girl pointed at the picture of my parents on the wall. "I thought he was. I thought the owner was older and I took a chance." Ok, that does make sense. "That is my father. He died a year ago. I am the owner."

"I am sorry," she mumbled. "It's nothing," I reply gruffly still uncomfortable talking about my dad.

"I am sorry for the sheet music. I… I need to go now."

"You sure you don't want to stay for coffee?" I said without thinking. The girl moved to the door backwards shaking her head no. Seriously, Jack? What are you doing? I'd say 'no' too if some hairy almost naked dude was asking me for coffee after beating me down.

"I need to go or I'll be late for class." "Suit yourself," I reply in good humor. I hope she can see it under the scruff and beard.

She was almost out of the door, when she turned. "I brought some food for Strawberry, or Tip-Tip rather. It's the stew that he likes. Is it OK if I leave it here for him?" she said pulling out a plastic container out of her backpack. "Yes, it is OK," I replied and took the container out of her hands. The moment it was in my hand, she ran out the door. Only now I realized that I haven't asked her name.

Yeah, it was the most bizarre meeting. Tip-Tip, or Strawberry, was still on the sofa sleepily observing all like the king of the world. I get it: with personal chef and all. But he has a good idea: I really should go back to sleep.

Kim POV

Monday. 8:30AM

Oh, God! I made it out… Joan, you crazy woman, thank you for the favor. Next time I'll pass. Although, who knew that he would be back sooner? Oh, dammit! I forgot to return him the keys. Should I drop them in the mailbox? Nah, what if he gets pissed off and takes it out on Joan? Better not take chances.

I stopped at the first floor and heard voices in Joan's place. She is the security officer/concierge at this condo building, so she gets to live here as well. I knew her from the time she was the security guard at the mall in my hometown. Since then, she moved to a more stable job with little excitement. I ran into her soon after I returned to Cali and she always helped me find these side jobs at the condo building. And I really needed the money. My college tuition was paid for, but living expenses were still high. And with my parents' estate situation being what it is… That is one of the reasons I am back in Cali, and not on my scholarship in Italy… Well, enough of the sad stuff.

I knocked at Joan's door and she quickly let me. "Kim, you are here early. How come?" she is always so jovial. "Just wanted to feed the cat and ran into the owner, who apparently just returned."

"You mean Jack. He must have returned last night."

"I guess so. I forgot to return him the keys. Would you take them to him? I need to run to school."

"You look pale Kim," Joan was squinting at me. "He did not scare you, did he? He is good boy, very nice. Just sometimes, in a stress situation, he is all Mr. Kicky Kicky Chop Chop. Don't worry about it."

What is she even on about? Kicky Kicky Chop Chop? "Is he a … criminal?" Joan's words did not make feel better, but I wanted to know nonetheless.

"Jack? Of course not! He is in some military service. Something very serious. What happened when you guys met?" She pulled me inside all the way.

"Well, I came in to feed Strawberry and look as some sheet music. He woke up and thought I was a robber."

"Oh, I see. That's why you are pale and rumpled. He can be harsh when on offensive. But you explained everything, right?"

"Sure, sure. Not a problem anymore… Joan, do you think he will be mad at you for letting me into his place, with keys and all?" I was not sure if I ever want to see him, but I would hate it if Joan was in trouble because of me. "I hoped that he would be an older guy, who liked the clean place and a well-fed cat. But now…" I trailed off thinking that I really did not want to chance working for some young guy with poor manners and ninja skills.

Joan was sure that there would not be any problems for her or me and with that I left for my class.