And these conversations choke us 'til we're numb

No matter what we're saying, it never seems enough

The door opening startled her. She had expected that Spencer would be out in some small town in Oregon helping solve a satanic cult case or something. He saw her put her guard up when he walked in.

"Hey," he said gently. "I heard that you ran out of the office earlier. Are you doing okay?"

Of course, fleeing a federal building in a country with state-sponsored surveillance would throw up some red flags. Figures.

"Yeah, yeah it was nothing!" she replied nonchalantly.

"Really, because Penelope said she saw you spot somebody in the interrogation hall and get a panicked look on your face."

Ol' meddling Penelope was back at it. Cat cursed under her breath. "It wasn't a big deal, I just took a look in the window and startled myself."

Spencer relaxed as he put his stuff down. He was relieved that it wasn't anything serious after their blowup a few weeks ago. He didn't want any other surprises popping up out of nowhere.

"It's hard seeing people handcuffed like that in interrogation, I get it," he offered. "It freaked me out the first few times too."

Cat pushed her hair behind her ear as she coyly rolled her eyes. "Not the first time I've seen those…"

Spencer paused, wondering if he was saying all the wrong things. He was used to dealing with serial killers and psychopaths, but knowing the right thing to say to a girlfriend, especially one with Cat's level of baggage was harder by a mile. "I didn't mean anything by it, I know you…"

"You don't have to apologize," she said, smiling. Cat was used to being called every name in the book by friends, family, and targets. A subtle, potentially hurtful if seen in the wrong light, comment was the least of her worries. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

The tension in the room eased - it was always so hot and cold with them. One minute it was easy and free being with each other, the next it was hard to find the words to describe what was going on between them.

"So what are you making me for dinner since you're home early, Spencie?" she batted her eyelashes playfully at him.

Spencer laughed. "If I make anything in this kitchen it'll be as grease fire. But I can order a pizza, so that's a start!"

—

The evening was pretty normal after that. They had gotten into a bit of a routine: dinner, couch, reluctant cuddles, fun time in bed, bedtime in bed. It was a constant that Cat had come to appreciate, one familiar thing in her life full of chaos and anarchy. Of course, she should have known that whenever she got comfortable something else would come up and fuck everything up. If Spencer was a danger magnet, she was a chaos addict, and they were a lethal combination.

Cat was never a deep sleeper, rarely sleeping more than four hours a night. It was like her body knew that she shouldn't have that much time to play around in her mind and subconscious. So when the front door was picked open she heard the familiar click of the lock. From there it was all auto-pilot for her, years of first-hand experience coming in handy when she needed them.

Creeping past the bedroom door with her Beretta in hand, she peeked out and saw who else, but her good buddy Andy. How the hell he found out where she lived, she didn't know. Maybe he called in a favor or followed Spencer home, but either way she needed to get rid of him.

"I like what you've done with the place .45," he spoke, his voice gruff as always. "I never did peg you for an antiques girl, though."

Cat listened intently to see if Spencer was awake before replying, "I figured you'd be locked away in a cage somewhere by now, Andy. What, did you tattle on all your friends from the playground? I'm sure they'd love to hear about it."

Andy laughed, cocking his revolver and pointing it at her. "I had something else in mind. See you fucked over the wrong guy. You thought I was just going to let you run off and get away scot-free without paying your debt to me? I thought you were smarter than that, Cat."

Cat tensed up. "How the fuck do you know my—" She was interrupted by a noise coming from the bedroom.

"Ooh, you have a visitor," Andy taunted. "Great, you'll have someone to mourn your funeral. Or maybe, you can go halfsies on one." He pointed the gun at Spencer and pulled the trigger, but the gun jammed.

Cat knew she was past the point of no return and needed to end this, So she did. Grabbing Andy's shoulder and twisted it backwards, she forced him to drop his revolver. He screamed in pain as she forced him to the floor and without thinking she put the .45 to his forehead and pulled the trigger. Boom, easy, done. Clean and precise like she liked it. With one major exception, of course.

Spencer looked stunned. He was barely awake and couldn't believe what he was seeing. When he started to come to and orient himself in the dark, he couldn't get any words out. And Cat being…Cat didn't know how to handle the situation in a mature manner (if such a thing even existed in this instance.

"That's why I don't use a revolver. So unreliable, right?" She joked, tucking her gun into the waistband of her joggers.

—

"What the fuck did you just do!" Spencer shouted at her, half question and half complete shock and awe. Cat motioned for him to hush as she checked Andy's body. She was looking for anything that could tell her how he found her and if he had told anyone.

"Quiet down, the neighbors will hear!" she scolded him. All she found in Andy's wallet were old candy wrappers, $7, and a condom from the early 2000's. She tossed it over her shoulder and grabbed her phone, quickly typing a message.

Meanwhile Spencer was beside himself. He went to bed four hours ago and everything was fine - now he has a dead man in his apartment and a girlfriend who just executed him. And she was completely unaffected by it all.

"You're worried the neighbors will hear? How about what they are going to think when the cops show up and find a dead man in our living room?"

Cat scoffed. "Don't be stupid, we're not calling the cops. I'm handling it."

"You're handling it?" Spencer repeated back to her, mocking her casual tone. "What the fuck, Cat?"

"What, did you want me to let him kill you?"

Spencer hesitated.

"Because that's what he would have done if I didn't take him out first. Do you think he broke into our apartment to play games and have a sleepover?"

"You didn't have to kill him," he replied, his tone low like he was trying to calm himself down. His hands betrayed him, shaking like he was more anxious than ever.

"Like hell I didn't. Now calm down, this will be over soon."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" She asked. "Someone is coming to clean this place up and rid us of this little…inconvenience." She smiled to herself, chuckling at her own little comment.

"You say that like you do this a lot," Spencer said, hoping to god that he was wrong.

Cat shot him a look, motioned around the room at the surroundings and replied, "You could say it isn't my first time."