Eyes as wide as saucers, Bree's jaw fell slack as she stood, her tall frame still a good two inches or so over the Prodigal Daughter of Wisteria Lane, who wore a pair of crimson heels concealed underneath the length of her black cotton pants.. She clasped her cream-coloured hands in front of her body while she thought of something to say. She didn't want to say she missed Katherine, not after her dream; but in truth, she had. Bree had never been able to talk to Katherine after she had put that long scar into the side of her car. She felt like she had something to apologise for, though she wasn't exactly sure what that was. Maybe for firing her, maybe for not taking care of her while she was having a mental breakdown, maybe for completely avoiding her after the entire neighbourhood had overheard her little spat with Robin. Any of those seemed like a good enough reason for her to feel guilty. Not wanting to be rude, the redhead plastered on half a smile as she answered, 'Yes, Katherine, I did.'

Without missing a beat, Katherine stepped closer, her arms quickly encircling Bree as she pulled the woman into a tight embrace. Her forehead didn't move, but her emerald irises easily displayed the quick transition between emotions: Surprise came first, followed by a brief second of contentment that quickly dissolved into an icy rage. 'What the hell are you doing!' she hissed, pushing the smaller woman gently yet firmly away from her.

Katherine was clearly confused by her actions, palms open and facing upward as she regained her balance. 'Well, I could ask you the same,' she answered. 'I don't understand, Bree—'

'You can't just go around hugging people like that!'

'What are you talking about?' Katherine's gaze shifted from Bree's face to the street, where all else in the neighbourhood was peaceful. The trash had already been taken out, leaving everyone else to their own business. That wouldn't last for long, though; it never did, and that was part of the reason Katherine had left in the first place. It was at this point that the realization came back to her. 'Oh. So that's it,' she finally said, folding her arms across her chest as she turned back to her car. 'Well, I've got some unpacking to do. Come over when you're ready to get off your pedestal, I guess.' Bree didn't move as she watched Katherine head back to her house, empty-handed as she threw the front door shut behind her. She supposed this was the part where she felt horrible and followed her cooling trail, begging forgiveness; and she did feel bad. But she couldn't make herself go groveling yet even if she had wanted to; she felt threatened enough living just a couple of houses down from the woman, going anywhere near her house at this point would be asking for trouble after that dream.

And so, expression just as stoic as it had been before, Bree headed back into her own home, where she was greeted only by empty silence. There was nothing; no husband, no business to distract her from the recurring images that swam through her head, taunting her as if they knew she had no escape. As fate would have it, her eyes fell upon the liquor cabinet; apparently Orson had forgotten all about it in his speedy departure from her life. There were only a few bottles inside the glass cabinet, each in its own varying stage of being used up, each seeming to call her name. That feeling of impending doom returned as she stepped toward it, kneeling down to try the handle.

It was locked.

'Oh, what am I doing?' she breathed for only herself to hear as she returned to the kitchen. Even if she was going to relapse into alcoholism, it was still only ten in the morning; breaking out the Patron so early would only make her more pathetic. Head throbbing, she retrieved a bottle of aspirin from a cupboard and poured herself a glass of water, popping both capsules into her mouth before she took a long sip. She needed to do something, but what could she possibly do? The house was clean, the laundry was folded and put away, the guest bedroom had been relieved of any remnant of Orson Hodge, the test kitchen was all but barren. She hadn't so much as looked at her cooking utensils since giving up the company, save a small pot or pan to make dinner for herself.

She did owe Katherine an apology. And when she put herself in an uncomfortable situation such as this, she often found that baked goods were useful in softening the edges. So for the first time in weeks she put an apron on, entered the test kitchen, and gathered everything she would need to make a batch of red velvet cupcakes, a confection that Katherine had once confessed to be her guilty pleasure.

Inside her home, Katherine stood frigid at the front window, watching through partially closed curtains for Bree to make her exit. Once the sidewalk was empty she returned outside, popping the trunk of her Kia to begin hauling in the few things she had brought back from Paris: two suitcases and a box of books. She hadn't brought anything else with her when she left the Lane, and there had hardly been time for her to collect anything to come back with. It seemed that there would always be something for her to come home to here, whether that something included a person or not. This house felt too big for her to inhabit on her own; solitude was fine for a while, but it wasn't enough to come home to a halfway empty bed. Why couldn't she be content to live for herself, rather than always seeking the company of a man—or woman—to complete her? Why wasn't she enough for herself?

She didn't even feel like she had the energy to take her things upstairs. The whole thing with Bree had given her a feeling that coming back would be tough; if she didn't have a bestfriend anymore, what did that leave her with? At this point, though, anything was better than Paris. Katherine closed her eyes for a long second, collecting herself before she felt ready to open up the cardboard box and begin returning her books to their rightful place on the shelf. There weren't many to put back, only a dozen or so, but at least it would keep her mind occupied for a while. She slipped them into place by name of author, her memory all the while seeming to eat her alive. Perhaps it would do her some good to call up that therapist; or maybe not, considering how quickly the phrase 'I told you so' would fly out of his mouth upon hearing that her relationship with Robin had completely fallen apart in her hands. That certainly wouldn't be of any use to her. It didn't take three hundred dollars' worth of sitting on a couch being droned at for an hour to know that she should have seen the relationship's flaws from the start; she just couldn't believe that those flaws had brought it to an end so quickly.

Katherine didn't even notice the tears flowing from her eyes until one made it to the line of her jaw. She stared blankly at nothing for a short while before she had the thought to react, using her fingertips to brush the water away. How long would it be before she could get a grip on herself?

The thought was postponed as a knock on the door brought her back to reality. She didn't want to answer, but with her car parked out front it wasn't exactly as if she could pretend to not be home. The aching in her chest returned as she caught a glimpse of bright red hair through the window. What could that woman possibly want now?

Her face returned to stone as she opened the door partway. 'Yes, Bree?' she said, ice coming through her voice despite the moment she had faced inside.

Bree paused for a second before she began to speak, eyes on the basket that hung off the crook of her elbow.. 'Well, it occurred to me that I was terribly rude to you earlier, and…I'm sorry.' The last two words came out of her mouth the same way she would have said morbidly obese. 'So I brought these over,' she continued, offering Katherine the warm basket she held, 'to welcome you back home.'

Silence fell between them as Katherine took the basket, lifting the lid to inspect the cupcakes inside. 'Are they poisoned?' she asked, hoping Bree would get the joke; she did, but didn't quite think it was as funny as Katherine did. 'Come inside,' Katherine finally added, putting on a warm smile. 'Let's talk.' As much as she felt like it was a bad idea, Bree couldn't say no. She stepped over the threshold, feeling as if she had given up all control over her fate as the door closed behind her.