It was still raining heavily when they arrived back at headquarters.

"How are your stitches?" she asked Johnny, as they walked down the stairs.

"Fine," he said.

"Really?" she asked. "That looked like kind of a workout."

"Fuck," he said. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Show me," she said.

They had arrived at the headquarters door. He kicked it open. "Are you just trying to get me to take my shirt off?" he asked.

A room full of eyes turned towards them.

She winced. "I - Jesus. Yes, Johnny, I want you to take your shirt off. It's my number one reason for existing." She gritted her teeth as the Saints below began to laugh.

She turned away as he began to unbutton his shirt.

"Aw, come on," he said. "You're missing the best part."

"Well I'm out of fucking dollar bills to throw at you," she said. She could feel her cheeks turning red. "You son of a bitch."

"You started it," he said, shrugging off his shirt. "What do you think?"

"Jesus Christ," she said, turning to look at his chest, the angry dark gash on his pale skin. "Well, it's bleeding a bit. Not too much. Does it hurt?"

He shrugged a shoulder . "Feels fine."

"Well – shit," she said stepping back. "I'm not a fucking doctor, I don't know how bad it is."

"No fucking kidding," he snarled at her, before walking straight past and down the stairs. The laughter from the floor died. She sighed and walked after him.

The mood at the headquarters was sombre, most people sitting on couches or the steps or the floor, bottles in their hands. The bare electric bulbs on wires around the room cast stark shadows on the marble floor.

Pierce handed her a plastic cup full of wine.

She smiled weakly. "Thanks," she said, and made her way across the floor to one of the bar stools.

She took a sip and grimaced. The wine wasn't great, but it was drinkable, at least, and she drained the cup quickly. As she was looking down at the last few drops on the cup, she felt someone come up behind her.

"Hey," said Carlos. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

She turned to look at him with a rueful smile as the man behind the bar refilled the cup. "Yeah," she said. "Sorry. I've – it's been weird lately."

"Yeah," he said. "You doing okay?"

"I'm doing okay," she said. "Thanks. You don't need to worry about me."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because I'm the one that needs to worry about everyone else."

"So no one worries about you at all?" he asked, with an impish smile.

She grinned. "What's on your mind, Carlito?"

His smile faded a little. "Been thinking about the Brotherhood."

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. What have you got?"

"Found a couple of protection rackets we could take over," he said. "And what they do with their trucks."

"What's that?"

"Some kind of derby thing," he said. "Covered stadium. I was thinking we could mess with one of their shows."

"Interesting!" she said. "What could we do with that? Stop the trucks from working? Probably a little anticlimactic. Blow them up? Kind of done that already. Something with fireworks?"

"We were thinking of rigging the cars so the exhaust would feed back into the cab instead," he said.

"What would that do?" she asked. "Would they just pass out? Would it flood the stadium?"

"If they went long enough," he said. "They'd probably shut it down before then, though. Big stadium."

"I like the sound of this," she said. "Need me to ride along, or have you got this?"

"You could come along to watch the show," he suggested.

She smiled. "Alright," she said. "Let me know where and when."

"Will do," he said. He turned, taking a step away, but after a moment turned back to look at her. "Katie – why don't you want to talk to me any more?"

She stared at him for a moment. "Shit," she said, rubbing a hand over her eyes. "Okay. Look, it's probably time I – talked to you about this. You mind taking a walk with me?"

There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

"Don't worry," she said, quickly. "Everything's fine. Nothing's wrong or going to change or anything like that. I just – come with me, okay?"

She led him to the doorway near the bar and out to the sunken city beyond. It was dark, the only light filtering through from the doorway behind them. She shivered. Old Stilwater was always cold to her, the cool stone that surrounded them leeching the heat from her bones.

They didn't make it far – out into the paved streets and past a row of decrepit parking metres – before she stopped and turned back towards Carlos with a sigh. "My Carlito," she said, smiling sadly. "I – have not dealt with this well. And I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said. "I just – why won't you talk to me about it?"

"Yeah, I don't really do that," she said. "Maybe it'd be better if I did. I don't know. Just how I deal with things."

"And how's that been working out for you?" he asked.

She shot him a flat stare. "Look," she said. "We do things my way. Even if it turns out to be a little dysfunctional."

He took a step back. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to-"

"I haven't been doing this for very long," said Kate, before he could finish his sentence. "This whole – being responsible for people. I'm probably going to make some mistakes. Have already made some mistakes."

"Katie," he said. He took her hand in both of his. She flinched, slightly. "It's okay to trust other people, you know?"

She retrieved her hand gently. "Not all of the time," she said. "Figuring out who you can trust is one of the hardest things you can do."

"You trust me," said Carlos. "Don't you?"

"Of course. You wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"And you're afraid of losing people," he continued.

She closed her eyes. "Yeah," she said. "I guess that's what this whole thing comes down to. You can't always – plan for that." She frowned. "Although there are steps we could take to address this. Better security. Maybe a personal detail on associates. And families. Stuff like that. Sound okay? I don't want anyone's – I don't know. Family. Getting hurt. "

His eyes were huge and dark and worried.

"I won't let anything happen to your family, okay?" she said. "Your mom. Your, um, siblings?"

"I got a sister," he said. "Gina."

"Yeah," she said. "Okay. I need to sort this shit out, okay, we're not doing anything with the Brotherhood until we've got something set up. This can't happen again. I need to start thinking about you guys first."

"That's a lot to think about," he said.

She sighed. "It's important," she said. "Let's go back inside, I'm getting cold.

Kate led Carlos back inside and headed straight for the bar. She'd barely gotten another drink before she froze as she heard a woman's voice, calling down the stairs.

"Hello? Am I in the right place?"

The room fell silent. Kate and Johnny exchanged glances.

"Katie, sweetheart, are you down here?"

"Uh – yeah?" Kate called back.

She heard footsteps, and then a small, middle-aged woman appeared in the doorway at the top of the stairs, carrying a large tray. "I thought I should drop by," she said. "To say thanks."

Kate stood up. "Laura!" she said. "Good to see you again."

Laura started down the stairs before she seemed to notice the rest of the room, dark and sombre, watching her warily. She held up the tray in her hands. "I made brownies?" she said, hesitantly. "Should be enough for everyone."

"Oh my god," said Kate, standing up. "Oh my god, what sort of brownies?"

"Well, chocolate fudge," said Laura, beaming. "With a special ingredient, of course."

"Holy fuck," said Kate. "Everyone has to try these right now. Everyone. Especially Shaundi."

She took the tray from Laura, stuffed a brownie in her mouth, handed the tray to the nearest person to pass on, and enveloped Laura in a hug. She smelled like cocoa and washing powder.

"I heard you weren't very well for a bit, dear," Laura murmured. "Glad to see you're up and about." She gave Kate's hip a pinch. "You've lost so much weight."

"Yeah, I'm working on it," said Kate, stepping back. "Sorry it took so long to get you out, by the way. Shaundi had this plan with a bomb but I didn't really feel up to breaking into jail just after I'd left."

"You've got to look after yourself first," agreed Laura. "I'm here now. And being back is just great! Drop by my house some time."

"Will do," said Kate. "We're going to need your help."

The sky was darkening to black as she arrived back at her apartment. She unlocked the door, dropped her bag on the floor, poured herself another drink, and got into bed. She was half dozing, half watching some TV movie, when her phone rang.

She picked up the phone without checking the number. "What up?"

There was a slight pause. "Kate," said Dex, finally. "Come for drinks with me."

She smiled. "Funny," she said, sitting up. "That didn't sound much like a request."

"I'm out of the habit of making requests," he said. "Please accept my sincere apologies."

"No need to get all Mr Darcy," she said. "So where was it that you were demanding the pleasure of my presence?"

"Bar downtown," he said. "Red Square. Know where it is?"

"Vaguely?" she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. It was close to Troy's, and she wondered for a moment if it was intentional.

"Meet me there in thirty."

"Uh, forty five at the earliest," she said. "If we're going to Red Square I need to look presentable."

"Is it really going to take you that long?" he asked.

"I'm actually in bed right now," she said. "So yes, it's going to take a while."

"You're in bed? It's 9:30."

"It has been a fuck of a day, Dex," she said.

"Fine," he said, sounding amused. "See you when you get there, I guess."

She arrived at the bar, finally, at almost eleven, and located Dex after a quick circuit of the room. The room was almost too dark to see, with dark mahogany tables and leather seats. Dim lamps were dotted around the room.

Dex was sitting in a booth, and raised an eyebrow at her when she locked eyes with him. She smiled, slid into the booth beside him. He was dressed in a well-cut pin striped suit, the dim light glancing off his cheekbones. She smiled, apologetically.

"Took your time," he said.

"Do you really want to be seen here with anyone less than perfect?" she asked, leaning towards him. "This is your invitation to tell me how good I look."

"You look amazing." He grinned. "Have you been drinking already?"

"I like how you can tell," said Kate. "Apparently no one else can. I had a couple while I was getting ready. And, you know, earlier. Been a tough day."

"You're an eternal college student," he said. "Order whatever you want, I gave them a card at the bar. Give them my name."

"Impressive. It's been a long time since I had someone hand over a credit card at the bar," she said, standing up. "I'll be right back."

She ordered the second-most expensive thing on the menu, which turned out to be a gingerbread martini, and returned to the table.

"So what's up with the Ultor tagline 'we don't cure cancer, but we sure come close'?" she asked. "I've been listening to the radio a lot lately and I kind of don't get it."

Dex shrugged. "We're working on it."

"Are you actually?" she asked. "What does Ultor even do? Last time around I thought it was a clothing company with some kind of sponsorship deal with the dome."

"We've got fingers in a lot of pies," he said.

"That's such a weird metaphor," she said. "It's kinda gross."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I guess," he said. "So, did you find out who set you up?"

She looked away. "No," she admitted. "Fucked that right up."

"What happened?"

"Overplayed my hand, I think." she said. "Let's not do a post-mortem. Didn't burn any bridges, at least, so I think I can try again later. Maybe when he's more comfortable being around me."

"What's he like around you now?" Dex asked, curiously.

"Um. Trusts me not to kill him, which is nice, I guess. Very on edge, though."

"Maybe you make him nervous."

She rested one elbow on the table, and leaned her chin on it. "That wouldn't be much of a surprise. I think I'm still kind of an unknown quantity."

"How do you feel about him?"

"How do I feel about him?" she repeated. "What, on a personal level?"

He shrugged. "On any kind of level."

She tapped her fingers on her glass. "I don't know why he bothers with me," she said. "He doesn't have to."

"What if he just thinks you're interesting?" Dex suggested.

She frowned. "I think undercover messed him up," she said. "Like, quite badly."

"He say that to you?"

She shook her head. "Just something about the way he talks about it."

"Huh," said Dex. "How did you feel when you found out he was a cop?"

She frowned. "What? I don't know. Uh, shocked, I guess. Like – didn't see that coming."

"And after that?" he prompted.

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she asked. "I'm not sure what you're asking."

He tilted his head to one side. "I want to know if you were angry."

"Oh," she said, sitting back. "No. Johnny was."

"Why weren't you angry?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "I don't kn– I thought it was interesting, I guess. I was – wondering if it could be useful. Especially after I found out about the trouble he'd gone to so I wouldn't die."

He sat back in his chair, smiling. "Good."

She half-closed her eyes. "Was that the answer you were looking for" she asked. "Another of your tests?"

"They're not tests," he said.

"I feel like you're constantly assessing me for something," she said. "What would that be?"

He grinned. "It's not like that," he said. "It's just I'm trying to figure out how your mind works."

She sipped her cocktail. "Don't treat me like a project, Dex," she said. "Am I going to be your Eliza Dolittle?" She leaned towards him. "Wait, this better not be an actual Ultor project. If I find out all this is going on your work-related expenditure account I am going to fuck you up, I swear to god."

"It wasn't a company credit card I gave the bar for the tab," he said. "If that's any reassurance."

"Do I have a cost code?" she asked.

"Vogel noticed you drop literary references when you're threatened," said Dex. "That's two tonight so far. Something wrong?"

She sat up. "I – what?" she said, eyes widening. "I don't – I'm not threatened. Christ, he's met me one time and he thinks he knows me."

"He's good at reading people," said Dex, smiling faintly. "Made a career out of it."

She ran her tongue over her teeth, and smiled back. "You know," she said. "I went to college on a scholarship."

Dex frowned at the subject change. "I didn't know that, but – alright."

"And I ended up making friends with this crowd of really rich kids," she continued. "And, you know, it wasn't a big thing that they had money and I didn't, except, sometimes – sometimes someone would just say something that would remind me that we came from completely different worlds. It wouldn't be on purpose, and it wouldn't be mean-spirited, but it just made me realise how different we were." She tilted her head slightly. "You ever feel like that?"

He sat back a little, clasping his hands around his glass. "I hadn't realised I touched a nerve," he said coolly. "My apologies."

"You didn't answer the question," she said.

He paused for a moment. "What I don't understand," he said. "Is what happened when you left college."

The smile slowly faded from her face, and she looked down at the cocktail umbrella in her drink.

"Something there had to have gone wrong, right?" he continued. "Did you go out with a bang?"

She took the umbrella out of her drink, folded it up neatly, and laid it down next to the glass.

"It's not that I don't appreciate your ability to go for the fucking throat," said Dex. "But don't play this game with me, Katie, you won't win it."

"Sorry," she said, quietly, not looking up.

"If you can rein that in a little it'll be useful," he said, thoughtfully. "And your directness can be – refreshing, but it could also get you in a lot of trouble."

"It – uh, this hasn't been a good day," she said. "Sorry." She risked a glance up.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Well – the Ronin crashed Aisha's real funeral so we had to bury one of them alive." She checked her watch. "He's probably dead by now, though."

"You have been busy," he said. "Want to call it a night?"

"Probably a good idea," she said, sliding out of the booth. "This was – fun."

"Always a pleasure," said Dex. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked out.