Oriana, recently returned from Italy, seemed mostly unchanged as she navigated the sidewalk leading to Cat's office. She was a little thinner, perhaps, and in need of a few good meals. She also had a small scar on the right side of her neck near her collarbone. Other than that, she seemed mostly unharmed.

Arriving in Cat's office, Oriana found it to be deserted. Lying down on a couch in the corner, she put up her feet and resolved to take a nap until her boss returned. Apparently, they had quite a bit to discuss.

Catalina entered her office, then stopped short when she saw her sleeping Right on the lounger in there. Stepping behind her desk, she smacked her coffee cup loudly on the top of her desk as she sat. 

Nothing. Oriana was clearly exhausted. Catalina crossed her arms across her chest and frowned, the large diamond on her ring finger sparkling like trapped fireflies even in the lower light. She watched as Oriana continued to sleep, noticing the gaunt features and... Was that a knife wound, or a bullet graze on her neck? Several emotions roiled through her then. Anger that Oriana had run off and tossed herself into a fray... again. Disappointment that she hadn't asked Catalina to go with her. Hurt that her friend had not been here when she'd run off and gotten married. Sadness that Oriana was still fighting off demons, whether real or imagined.

Pissy now, Catalina reached out a finger and pushed her coffee mug to the floor, where it smashed spectacularly against the hardwood floor. Coffee and porcelain sprayed everywhere as Oriana's eyes flew open. When she sat up, the office door opened and the head of one of their bodyguards poked through. Catalina couldn't even tell who he belonged to, they had so damn many running around here.

"Two coffes and a cleanup on aisle O," she said to him with a bitter little smile. 

Oriana rolled off the couch as she sat up and reached for her gun, flailing in midair before crashing into the ground with a thump. Sighing, she just stayed on the ground.

"Sorry. I just thought I'd get comfortable and then..." She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Cat. About everything. Things took much longer than I thought. Lots of surprises."

Ori finally forced herself up to a sitting position and blew a strand of hair out of her face.

"It was something that I had to do. Someone haunting me. I couldn't ask you to leave the crew like that. Not after what happened in Spain."

She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees.

"But I'm back, now. Committed." 

Silence descended as another guard stepped in and quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor. Before he was finished, the first guard was back again with a mug in each hand. He handed one to Oriana first, then the other to Catalina. One of Oriana's, then. Good to know. Probably. Did it matter? Once the two men had left, Catalina stood with her cup and rounded the desk, then sat on the lounger Oriana had so quickly vacated when she'd met the floor.

"You want to walk me through it, or are we brushing it all under the rug, now?" She asked gently, fairly certain where the conversation would go. Or wouldn't, rather. Either way, something significant had happened, and if Oriana wanted to talk, Catalina would listen. Sipping from her cup, her face twisted into a grimace. It had definitely been one of Oriana's men... all of Catalina's knew she was heavy on the cream and sugar in her coffee, and this cup had almost none of either.

Ori took her mug and sat next to Cat. She crossed her legs, lounging.

"There's a lot to get through. But I am sorry for being gone, Cat. You're a good friend, and I missed you. But it wouldn't have done to have had both of us there."

Besides, as dear as you are to me, I know you couldn't have kept up.

"Would you like the ten thousand word, thousand word, hundred word, or ten word explanation?"

"How about... the explanation that feels best to give? You don't really owe me one, I knew when I met you that you were more of a lease than a purchase," she smiled, knocking her knee against Oriana's now much thinner one. The woman had lost weight she couldn't afford to lose to begin with. Catalina rose quickly and opened the door far enough to lean into the hallway.

"Hey! You... yeah, you. Put in a call to Filet and Vine? Have them bring something over with a lot of carbs and protein in it... bacon and eggs or something like that. Thanks!" She said, then shut the door and sat again. 

"I'm all ears." 

Oriana drank her coffee for a few moments, thinking.

"Anything I say stays between us, right?"

"Of course." Did she honestly still feel the need to ask that? After everything? Catalina began to surreptitiously sneak peeks at Oriana's head, looking for a telltale bump there. 

Oriana started with a sigh.

"If I don't give you the full version, it's only because I just lived it. Even thinking of it all is exhausting. So maybe I'll stick to the simple version now, and I'll ramble about the rest next time you drink me under a table."

She drank her shitty coffee and leaned back against the couch.

"So the man I told you about, Francesco Bianchi, the one who took me from the orphanage when I was twelve. During the Mattaranzi thing in Venice, he tracked me down and told me he wanted me back. Seeing him like that, talking to Aurora, talking to Tara... it let me put some pieces together. I figured out some things. He killed my friend. He needed to die. I thought I'd be gone for a week, two at most. I started taking down his contacts, getting information out of them. One in Genoa. Another in Tuscany. A third in Rome- and that's when he decided I was getting too close for comfort. In Rome, I... well, I froze, Cat. I had him in my sights, and then things seemed so confusing, and I got taken down, taken back to him. I spent a couple weeks as... his again. Then I shook free, met up with Tara Mastrosimone and the team of people she had looking for me."

Oriana took a deep breath. 

"Bianchi is dead. His whole team, basically. Only survivors won't be any trouble. But that part of my life is over. Now, I'll get to live my new life in New York without my ghosts haunting me- all that is over now. I'm back. Tara and I are... close. And I want to be a better right hand for you. I got your note. I'll be glad to stand up with you at your wedding, if you still want me to."

"Yeah. About that. We were in Vegas, and just... it was simpler that way. No hurt feelings over choice of venue, officiant, all that. It's a done deal," she said on a sigh. One perfect day, then it was back to the grind of bullets, bribes, and too many bodyguards.

"I'm glad you're okay, Oriana. And you really are, right?You wouldn't lie to me about that?" She asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. The bones there felt so pronounced. Where was that bacon? 

"Wait. You're married?" 

The question hung in the air for a while before Oriana spoke again.

"I'm sorry, Cat. Shit. I didn't want to miss it. I-"

She was interrupted as the food arrived. Both women seemed to appreciate the interruption. They chewed on their bacon and eggs, just as they had to chew on the fact that they'd both been absent for major events in each other's lives. When they were done eating, Oriana felt like she was going to throw up.

"I think... I might hurl," she said with a small smile. "But before I do..."

Oriana stood up, reaching to the rear left side of her belt and removing a gun. It was a silver-plated Colt Single Action Army revolver with a sandalwood grip that always seemed warm to the touch. 

"I got this gun a couple years ago in Paris. It means a lot to me... but so do you. I never use it- mostly I just carry it around. Revolvers are a little less efficient than regular pistols. But it's a beautiful weapon... I want you to have it. As your wedding present- please."

Gripping the barrel of the gun, she extended it toward Cat. The gun obviously meant a lot to Oriana, but the look in her eyes suggested that this was really what she wanted- she was extending an important part of herself toward Cat, and even a kind refusal would be a rejection of that.

Catalina wiped her greasy fingertips quickly on a linen napkin before accepting the gun into her hands. It was heavy, heavier than the piece she regularly used. The weight seemed to carry some significance with it, the weight of memories, perhaps, pieces of another person's life. It had meant something to someone, once. It wasn't just an instrument of death... it felt like a precious heirloom with secrets she could never hope to uncover.

Catalina could feel the sting of tears in the backs of her eyes and swallowed hard. "This is quite a gift, Oriana. Thank you. I'll be sure to take excellent care of it," she said quietly. She looked at Oriana awkwardly for a moment, then leaned over and gave her a firm hug. The silver of the Colt glittered under the lights, too, now, competing with her diamond for attention. Catalina couldn't help but wonder then if she would be the final end-user of the Single-Action, or if she would be adding more memories to it.