Why a vacation can't even be a vacation when you are you. (Rex and Katrina)

Rex walked down the street marveling at the beautiful city that had stood for centuries and survived battle after battle. King Phillip of France once tried to invade London but it stood and survived, now it still stood and was still a military super power. The day was overcast and muggy, he had heard that it was like that in England. He didn't mind for the cool air and dark clouds was a comfort and he liked it this way. The city bustled with life, citizens, tourists, vendors, and workers littered the streets. The day was perfect and he had told himself no super hero stuff while on vacation. He was here to take a break nothing more. Spotting a small diner he gave a bright smile and walked into the place and received several looks.

Several eyes turned to look at the six foot two man who was decked out in blue jeans, a muscle shirt and a jacket with the New York Jets on the back. Smiling he walked up to a table and sat down. A waitress came over and he ordered a coffee with a basket of fries which took a minute for her to understand chips which he tried to explain were fries...after several minutes they decided on potatoes. His hand slid over his new crew cut, his spiky hair was a young day and now at twenty three years of age he needed a more mature look. He had dropped the loose pants and spiky hair for a more adult look. His meal arrived he nodded and paid the lady adding a tip in. Sitting back he sipped his coffee and looked out at the city.

His eyes landed on big ben the tower clock and made a mental note to put it on his list of things to see. A man selling maps stopped at his table and offered a map, shrugging he bought one and tuned it over to look through. It was a good map with things highlighted for tourists like himself to visit and several good restaurants and diners. Turning he waived the man over and gave him another five dollar bill for his gratitude at such a fine map. Turning his eyes back on the map he went on to read about different areas and drink his coffee.

The woman was tiny at five foot three with long silver white hair in a long pony tail. It was strange because she didn’t look a day over twenty one. The hair seemed natural as well, long, thick, and glossy. She was sitting at a table with another man, documents spread out across the table.
The English man in question had a very large and fluffy mustache, a full head of brown hair, and a fedora sitting on the table. According to his body language he seemed quite terrified of the younger woman, her cold grey blue steel like eyes staring up at him. He was rightly so scared, this woman had killed many more men that humanly possible.

“Glad we could come to agreement Mr. Price,” Katrina stated, watching him sign the papers. The man seemed to behaving like he was signing his soul away. Of course Katrina couldn’t do that. But she knew people who could. Another strange thing about the woman, she had no food or drink in front of her, but the man did. When she did look at the food however, she did seem slightly repulsed by the stuff. “I will send my agent to contact you in three days time and then you will deliver what you promised. Then we will do our part.”

“What if you fail?” The man stuttered as Katrina stood up, pushing in her seat.

“Oh, Mr. Price, we never fail,” She responded in an old English accent, a hint of a smile in her voice as if being amused while scolding a young child.

Rex was on his second cup of coffee when he noticed the woman and the man, the girl more of a stand out with her young age and shocking white hair. The other man was more of a business fellow with a large mustache that looked like one of those that used mustache cream. He wasn't meaning to eavesdrop it just kinda happened. He knew MI6 worked in England but the deal sounded more like a business deal and not the good kind. The woman stood up and by looking at her it was obvious she was a capable person. Her very stance told a lot about a person. Capable, lethal, beautiful. All these thoughts processing as he drank his coffee and watched her over the rim of the cup.

Her accent hit his ears and made his eyes narrow, her voice and way she spoke was much different than what he had heard on the streets but as a tourist and not knowing any Britons it was hard to tell if it was unusual. The more she talked the ore he became convinced this was not something good or legal. He continued to watch the pair while seeming to look out the window next to them. Another coffee ordered he thought about what he should do but right now he didn't have any information.

His eyes landed on the man and gave a slight smirk, if the woman walked away and left him than he could step in and talk to the man himself without the woman's knowledge which would be helpful. The woman had a aura about her...creepy yet he couldn't help but notice how pretty she was. He smirked as he shook his head slightly, he been alone too long if he was seeing dangerous women as attractive. Thunder boomed outside the diner and after a flash of lightning than heavy rain, sheets of it coming down in a massive pour. Looking out the window he sighed since he didn't bring an umbrella.

His eyes moved from his cup back to the pair and waited.

Katrina picked up the folder and slid all the papers neatly into it before sliding it into a black briefcase. Then she folded the contract neatly into the thirds and tucked it with nimble fingers into Mr. Price’s breast pocket.

“Here is a copy of the contract and a phone number is written on the back in case you need to get ‘hold of one of us.” She stated in a low tone before shutting the case and picking it up, gripping it with her left hand. “Good day Mr. Price,” She stated before she walked out the door.

Almost as soon as the woman was out the door, the dangerously mustached man withdrew a hand kerchief from his pocket and blotted at his forehead, mumbling something about demon women and looking even more anxious like the devil woman had heard him.

The contract in question was a contract of murder… assassination… of a dangerous man. Well then… no wonder he looked nervous. Katrina had worked for said dangerous man before and now she would have to kill him or whoever did the killing. As far as Mr. Price was concerned, Katrina was just another pretty, but dangerous, negotiator of terms.

As the woman stood and finished the deal, Rex adverted his eyes so he as looking at them through his peripheral vision. The papers on the desk vanished into the briefcase, but a extra was given to the man who had set this up. The woman rose and walked by and out the door. Turning his sights on the sweating man now sitting alone. Paying for his coffee he stood up and walked over to the man. Taking a seat across from him his eyes locking with the mustache man. He didn't say a word, instead he chose to stare the man down and see what information the mans already blossomed fear would provide him.

He leaned forward placing her large arms on the table, his big hands resting on the smooth surface of the wood. His eyes looked at the piece of paper in his pocket and before the man could object he plucked it out and opened it. His eyes scanned it, a sigh escaped him as he discovered it was a contract killing. Looking up he stared once again into the mans eyes with a strong intensity. "This is where you talk...or the police discover this on your person!" At this he tapped the paper just in case the man didn't understand he was being blackmailed. Most hero's didn't do that, they preferred to see the humanity in someone. Rex decided it be easier to just blackmail and get them to talk. The rain outside continue it's massive downpour, the elements loved to ignore the business of the world.

No one had seen or rather had not cared that the white haired woman had snuck back in through the back. Katrina was not stupid, she had seen Rex watching them, another nosy American by the looks of things. Coming back into the main body of the restaurant she spotted Mr. Price spluttering something to the other guy, something along the lines of ‘he had no idea what he was talking about.’

“Hello again Mr. Price,” She said smoothly, nimbly plucking the contract that the American was waving around in the air from his fingers. Katrina fixed Rex with her eyes, the color of steel but with a hint of blue and they were rather cold as they appraised the man before her. “It is rather rude to take something that does not belong to you.”

The walrus man struggled to get out of the booth and he grabbed the contract from Katrina before making a break for it out of the restaurant. He had not even paid for his food. Katrina waved over a waitress before paying for the man’s meal. The waitress’ dark green eyes flicked nervously from Rex to Katrina, the aura around the two was rather negative. Katrina paid in cash so she could not be traced before moving towards the exit, Mr. Price was long gone by now.

Vanishing out the door she waited, pulling on a pair of leather gloves to keep her hands from turning the frozen temperature or rather colder since her body was mostly comprised to steel. Katrina couldn’t feel the bite of the cold on her skin. She could feel heat however and it felt pleasantly warm to her skin, like an addicting food of some sort. Often she would curl up at home, snuggled against Varric, feeling the heat roll off his body. But Varric was in America, taking care of work right now.

“I assumed you would follow me,” She sighed. “Americans are always so nosy.”