(Seattle, WA, June 2002)
Katherine perched on the edge of the diner booth across from the man who appeared to be her would-be savior, sharp blue eyes regarding him warily, despite the fact that she could not entirely keep her curiosity from making itself known in her gaze. Truthfully, she had no idea why the man had insisted upon bringing her here, and seeing to it that she had a warm meal paid for, besides. But even in the face of the lingering doubt that refused to allow her muscles to relax, thus keeping her rooted to the seat's edge, with her spine erect, she would have been a fool to say that the gesture was not a welcome one…
She couldn't even recall when the last time she had enjoyed a full meal had been, and, for now at least, the dull aching pit in her stomach that came as a result of that hunger seemed to abate.
Still, she remained on her guard, knowing that, more often than not, when people did someone any favors, they expected a return on their investment—a return that she was not entirely certain she could give, at a mere eight years of age. She had no money. No family to speak of that could repay the man for what he might reasonably perceive as a kindness. And although a part of her wanted to believe that perhaps this particular man might simply be a good person, with no expectation of repayment, Katherine quickly forced that childish thought to the back of her mind, her lips pursing into a half-frown as she came to the realization that he appeared to be watching her every bit as carefully as she was watching him.
"You don't trust this, do you?" He inquired, though even she had to admit his tone made it more of a statement of fact, than an actual question he expected a reply to, "I suppose, given your experiences of late, I can hardly blame you."
"How—"
"How do I know of your experiences?" The man finished for her, something that might have passed for a smile causing his mouth to turn up at one corner as he regarded her for a moment in silence before going on, "I have my ways."
"I can't pay you. I don't—I'm not sure what you want," Katherine admitted, silently cursing the way in which her voice seemed to fracture around the words, giving unwitting evidence to the fact that her condition, such as it was, embarrassed her more than she cared to admit. Of course, she wasn't the only one in her current predicament—there were plenty of kids out there, admittedly, in far more dire straits than she had yet to experience. But regardless of that very fact, she would have been a liar to pretend that she did not resent the idea of anyone learning the true nature of her ordeal, some sort of stubborn pride causing whatever pleasure she had found in the unexpected meal to sour, even in the face of her companion's next words.
"I only want to help you, child. I believe we both know that you need it."
"I'm fine."
"Your circumstances before I found you seem to indicate otherwise."
Stymied by the obvious truth in that remark, Katherine said nothing, her eyes drifting down to the remnants of the meal she had just inhaled, while a light flush stole over her cheeks. Clearly, this man had some knowledge of her life, though she hadn't the faintest idea how that was even possible. And although she truly did want to be angry with him for appearing so intrusive, she was also more than a little curious to determine his motives behind helping her, to begin with.
If he truly did intend to help, there must have been something he thought he could get in return…
"Why?" She finally demanded, flinching against her will at the startling hardness behind the singular word, and yet finding herself surprised to note that her companion did not seem at all surprised by the defensiveness inherent in her reply. In fact, he appeared to be remarkably adept at taking it all in stride, his expression never wavering as he continued to watch her from his position opposite her in the booth. And despite the fact that his seeming inscrutability unnerved her, Katherine also found a curious, if not reluctant sense of respect developing for his stoicism, her frown relaxing just a bit as she realized he had leaned closer towards her before deciding upon his reply.
"Because once upon a time, I was very much like you. And I believe you are destined for far greater things than fighting children twice your size in a secluded alleyway."
"He had something of mine. I had to get it back."
"And now that you have it back, do you feel any better than you did when he stole it from you in the first place?"
"You have it now."
"That I do," The man confirmed, chuckling dryly at the flatness of his young companion's reply, and reaching into his jacket pocket to withdraw the object in question before going on, "But do you feel any better?"
"I will when you give it back," Katherine stated, innate defiance prompting her to square her shoulders as she allowed her eyes to zero in on the tattered edges of the photograph held in the man's hands, her teeth digging into her lower lip as though she feared he would tear it in two in seconds, "Please—please give it back."
"It has value to you. But the photograph is not of you. Your mother, perhaps?"
"Why does that matter? It's mine."
"Because for it to mean so much to you that you would come to blows with another person, it must be a picture of someone you love very much," The man suggested, placing the photograph upon the table between them, and keeping one hand positioned upon it in case the girl attempted to snatch it away as a result, "And let us not forget you were prepared to go up against me to get it back, as well."
Unsure of how best to reply to that last assertion, Katherine settled instead for placing her hands, palms-flat, upon the table on either side of her now-abandoned plate, blue eyes drifting away from the photograph so that she could glance at the man seated across from her once again. She was not entirely certain what she had expected to see in his expression, as it had not changed one iota since they first sat down. He seemed to be simply content to wait for her reply, and equally as prepared to accept her refusal to give one, if she so chose. And in spite of the hesitancy she still felt in her chest at the prospect of revealing any more to this stranger than she already had, Katherine found that she was not entirely able to resist engaging him in further conversation.
Perhaps if she gave him something in the way of what he seemed to want to know, she could learn something about him, as well.
"How did you know it was my mom?"
"The remarkable likeness in bone structure, for one. Though your eye and hair color are remarkably dissimilar."
"She told me I take after my father. Especially in the eyes."
"And do you know who your father is?" The stranger asked, averting his attention from the young girl seated across from him in favor of taking a sip of the tea placed just before him on the table top, and slightly to the right. He could tell his inquiry had struck a nerve, if the way in which the girl's eyes seemed to flash for a moment, as though determined to defy him with everything she had were any indication. But before he could make any attempt at probing for the source of that defiance, the girl was exhaling in a rush, small shoulders slumping just a bit as she shook her head for a moment before attempting a verbal reply, instead.
"No. I don't."
"And your mother? Where is she, now?"
"Dead," Katherine replied, hating the fact that, despite the numbness inherent in her tone, the familiar sting of tears rose to prick at the corners of her eyes at the prospect of once again being forced to confront the reality of her situation, head-on, "Cancer."
"So you are alone," The man mused, his statement making it clear to the girl that he did not expect a reply, having already deduced the truth for himself the moment he first laid eyes upon her person, "What if I told you all of that could come to an end?"
"I don't think I would believe you."
"For argument's sake, let us pretend that you do. What would you do, then?"
"I would ask you what you meant," Katherine amended, her brow wrinkling as she flicked her gaze from the photo still pressed against the table top to her companion's features once more, and noted that he appeared to have allowed her the briefest glimpses of a satisfied smile before he spoke in turn.
"I mean, my dear girl, that if you were faced with the prospect of an entirely new life, would you take it? No questions asked?"
"No."
"No?" The man repeated, surprised at the obvious skepticism inherent in the girl's reply, particularly as most others of her age would have jumped at the chance to start over, without a second thought, "Enlighten me, child. What is it you would need to know?"
"Why me?"
"Why not you?"
"Because, I—I'm nothing," Katherine began, forcing herself to look the man in the eye in spite of the shiver of apprehension that fled down her spine at the flash of something she could not quite identify in his gaze in response to her words, "I'm no one."
"Everyone matters to someone, my dear. Anyone who claims to believe otherwise is a fool."
"And I matter to you? That doesn't make any sense."
"What does, in this life?" The man countered, pleased to see that his words appeared to have had some impact on the girl seated across from him, despite her lingering mistrust regarding his motives that he could see so clearly upon her features no matter what she did to try to hide it, "At the end of the day, we all must choose whether to allow ourselves to cling only to what seems logical, or to accept a bit of mystery in hopes of achieving a greater reward."
Frowning a bit in response to the enigmatic reply, Katherine allowed herself the liberty of shifting so that she could reach for the glass of orange juice placed near her plate, the sweet coolness of the liquid as it slid down her throat providing some distraction from her confusion over her circumstances, and thus giving her the chance to attempt to make sense of them, herself. Clearly, the man had a larger agenda, though what exactly that agenda was remained a mystery. And in spite of herself—in spite of her reluctance to trust that anyone could harbor a genuine interest in her well-being, aside from what it could do for them, Katherine found herself tentatively deciding to trust him, at least for the time being, her fingertips lingering on the cool exterior of the glass of orange juice she had replaced upon the table for a moment before she replied.
"You won't change your mind?" She questioned, once again cursing the desperation that clouded her tone, despite her efforts to appear only mildly curious as to the man's answer, "You won't turn me out as soon as something better comes along?"
"Never," The man confirmed, something in the firm nature of his reply providing far more reassurance than Katherine truly believed she deserved…
"As I said—you, my dear, are destined for great things."
…
The memory had come, unbidden, just as Katherine was emerging from the shower, the steam ebbing around the room bringing a slight sheen to her skin as she toweled off, and donned a pair of loose-fitting slacks, and a black tank top, before exiting the small bathroom, and padding on bare feet towards the dresser where she would find a hairbrush to come through the tangles of her hair. As she moved, her muscles seemed to protest with the precise sort of dull ache that she actually enjoyed, as it signified a day well-spent in training. And, in spite of the lingering jolt of apprehension that the sudden memory of a time she believed to be long past provoked, she was not entirely willing to allow it to dominate her mood, her attention turning, for the most part, to the task of brushing the tangles out of her damp hair, while she idly hummed along to the tune that came from the nearby speakers situated atop her dresser.
While otherwise occupied with brushing her hair, and plaiting it into a braid that would hang over her left shoulder, Katherine permitted her thoughts to stray back to the memory as carefully as she dared, all the while remaining prepared to shut those thoughts down, should they become too troubling. Ever since her guardian had found her that rainy summer day, she had hardly dared to question her sudden change in fortune, as though the very act of doing so would cause it all to fall apart at the seams. But in spite of her apparent reticence on the matter as a whole, she would have been a liar had she claimed to have given up her interest in the man's motives, even now…
She simply prided herself in doing a damned good job of keeping that interest under wraps.
He had been true to his word, of course, never once abandoning her to the streets, no matter how rocky her initial induction into the life he wished to give her might have been. She knew she was no prize jewel, her temperament more often than not clashing with his own as the duo attempted to bridge the apparent gap between a man to whom decorum and adherence to routine were vital, and a girl whose rather solitary life fending for herself made the prospect of any sort of higher authority detrimental. But somehow, they had done so, despite a few botched attempts, and Katherine knew very well that had he not persisted in seeing her attributes, and not just her shortcomings, she might have become someone else, entirely.
Still, the man who called himself John Greer remained, in many ways, a stranger to the young girl who soon came to see him as a sort of surrogate father figure, and no matter how she managed to impress him with her training, or wring the occasional genuine laugh with one of her sharp remarks, Katherine was entirely unable to fully penetrate the careful walls he had erected around himself so surely that she doubted anyone he associated with truly knew who he really was.
In a way, she had adopted much the same technique for herself when it came to guarding her past, and her feelings, her tendency to present a superficially even-keeled exterior serving her well, more often than not. Of course, she had managed to get close to a few other trainees, such as they were, an instinctive desire to form some sort of meaningful relationship prompting her to be at least somewhat forthcoming, with those she knew she could trust.
More often than not, however, the majority of the things she chose to tell those acquaintances were partial truths concealed behind a lie.
It would have been a gross understatement had Katherine claimed such an existence was not a lonely one at times, but in the years since her guardian had found her, she had grown accustomed to it, to say the least. The two of them had subsisted mostly on their own, until recent years, when the needs of something far greater than either of them, alone, had brought them to where they were, now. And although a small part of her missed having her guardian to herself, Katherine knew that the task they were set upon now was far more important than any of her own selfish desires.
As if on queue from that particular line of thought, the sharp sound of a knock upon her apartment door rather effectively jolted Katherine from her own inner musings, and prompted her to move out of her bedroom, and across the hardwood flooring of the den to answer the sound, her fingertips lingering on the doorknob as she realized the would-be intruder was not at all who she had thought it would be. She had expected Greer, or perhaps Lambert, given that her guardian's right-hand man appeared to have a knack for seeking her out for a drink, particularly if his own assignment had gone awry throughout the course of the day. But what she could never have anticipated—not in a million years—was the appearance of the blonde woman who had made absolutely no secret of the fact that she doubted Katherine's place in their agenda from the start.
"Martine," Katherine managed, one dark brow lifting as the older woman passed her and strode into her room as though she belonged there, "I wasn't aware I should be expecting you this evening."
"That's because you shouldn't have," The blonde replied, brown eyes roaming around the room she had just entered, while her nose crinkled just a bit in apparent distaste. Though Katherine had no inkling of it, the expression was more so a result of a distinct lack of anything to grasp upon in the décor to gain a greater understanding of the woman who called this place her home than it was any sort of disapproval of the choices in furnishings, themselves. But, regardless of the motives behind such an expression, the darker haired of the two women found herself almost immediately on the defensive, her muscles tensing as she shut the apartment door with a snap before turning back to face her unexpected guest with as neutral an expression as she could muster.
"Then I don't suppose you would mind me asking to what I owe the pleasure?"
"You and I both know you don't give a damn whether I mind or not."
"Perhaps you should get to the point, then. That is, if you really are convinced that I don't care to deal with pretense."
"Why are you going to Dongsheng?"
"You really think I know?" Katherine quipped, unable to resist the urge to roll her eyes in obvious exasperation, while simultaneously moving back into the den, and taking the liberty of perching on the sofa, while Martine appeared content to remain standing erect, "I assume I'll figure it out when I get there."
"That's awfully cavalier of you."
"I don't see how I have any other option."
"It must be nice for you, being as close to Greer as you are," Martine pressed, her eyes narrowing as she took in Katherine's stoic expression, and did what she could to mirror that indifference with her own, "Protected from on high, and all that—"
"Get to the point, Martine. I don't have all day."
"He chose you over me. You aren't even out of training."
"And you want to know why," Katherine finished, scooting back on the sofa cushion, and folding both arms across her chest while simultaneously crossing one leg over the other so that one foot bobbed aimlessly in a show of far more confidence than she truly felt, "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said I truly didn't know?"
"No. I wouldn't."
"Well that's too bad."
"Isn't it, though," Martine deadpanned, moving towards the window that looked out over a small courtyard below, though her expression never altered in the slightest the entire time, "What I want to know is, what you can offer him that the rest of us can't."
"Maybe he's a fan of my sparkling personality."
"Is that what you're calling it?"
"I'm more interested in knowing what you are calling it."
"If he were any other man, I would call it something cliché."
"But John Greer is not any other man," Katherine replied, almost immediately becoming aware of the faint flicker of annoyance that passed across Martine's features, and suppressing a faint smile as a result, "You know that, as well as I."
"Then what the hell does he see in you?"
"Again—I don't know," Katherine said, her eyes never wavering from their investigation of the older woman's features, despite how the gaze she earned in return for her efforts had hardened, as though her companion truly believed that a sharp glance would intimidate her at all, "If I didn't know any better, Martine, I'd say you were jealous."
"Of you? Not likely," The blonde retorted, turning from the window, and risking a few steps back towards the center of the room before going on, "I simply don't see the sense in jeopardizing a mission just because someone wants to play favorites."
"If that's what you think this is, you're mistaken."
"I suppose only time will tell."
"I suppose it will," Katherine agreed, managing a tight smile for her companion's benefit, before moving to stand, and heading towards the door to show the woman out, "Maybe by the time I come back, you'll actually start to believe I might just be as capable of doing the job as you."
In contrast to what she had anticipated, given the woman's obvious lack of regard for her, Katherine was surprised to note that Martine did, in fact, appear to have taken the hint and prepared to depart, her heels clicking along against the flooring before she came to a stop just at the doorway's edge. For a moment, she seemed content to simply eye Katherine in silence, the act causing the younger woman to fight tooth and nail to avoid letting the sudden discomfort she felt under the weight of such scrutiny to make itself known upon her features. But before Katherine could find some clever quip to call to the surface in hopes of bringing that scrutiny to a close, Martine was stepping over the threshold, a soft sigh escaping before she turned back to her younger companion, and spoke with a smile that hinted at something she knew, that Katherine did not.
"I won't hold my breath on that, Katherine. First jobs have a nasty history of going awry, no matter how good the new recruit thinks they are."
Whether Katherine wanted to acknowledge the risk it or not, Martine genuinely hoped that perhaps some of the girl's easy confidence would be stripped away if everything did not go as planned…
If nothing else, perhaps a botched mission under her belt would be enough to persuade Greer to realize that the sun did not, in fact, rise and set with his ward.
…
Hello there, lovelies! And welcome to chapter two in Katherine's tale! I have to say, this one kind of got away from me a bit more than I anticipated, both with the flashback, and with Katherine's little interaction with Martine. But it is my sincerest hope that such a thing isn't too troublesome, particularly as I have a purpose in mind for all of it, down the road (including Martine, and her apparent dislike of Katherine so far). Everything will make sense in time, I promise!
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to give this story a chance so far (special thanks to my follower, Torie46, and to Only reviewer for leaving such a lovely review as well)! I truly do appreciate the support, and I hope that you all enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed the last! I cannot wait to hear what you think!
Until next time, my dears…
MOMM