Kate Gregson

"We can do this," Kate says, standing at the kitchen counter, ingredients spread out around her in a haphazard manner. There's too much stuff here, she thinks, she can't remember Marshall ever using this much stuff just to bake, but she's got all the ingredients the recipe calls for.

Of course, she's really not the type to bake, normally, but lately she feels like she wants to do things that she normally doesn't do. No matter what, she feels shitty. Marshall's still gone. There are people around her, people who love her and who are trying, but she doesn't know how to feel better. What she wants, more than anything, is to just sleep for a week, but if she does that, she doesn't know who's going to take care of the two of them.

"Right?" she asks, looking at Effy. She's coaxed her into the kitchen today with the promise of brownies, although now that she's here, she isn't sure they're going to be any good. This is really Marshall's area of expertise and she's pretty sure she's going to butcher them. But maybe that's why she's doing it, just to remind her of all the things he did for her, all the things she can't do herself.

Because she can't. She's really lost without him and she doesn't know how to say it or how to ask for help, because she's never needed help before. She's always had Marshall and he's always had her. It's how they've gotten through life. Now she's alone.

"So there's butter and flour and, uh... baking soda? Or baking powder? Fuck, I can't remember." And she'd consult the book, but her hands are already covered in crap. She really has no idea how he managed to do this so well and always stay clean. Probably why he always wore those super gay aprons.

The snow was gone and with it all the crazy, puffy dresses in Kate's closet had disappeared as well, which wasn't something she was particularly sad about. The apartment that she and Marshall had been living in was pretty sweet, but if living in a hut was what she had to deal with to be able to wear a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then Kate was totally okay with that. The hut wasn't so bad, after all, and she'd actually gotten used to the heat after all this time. (Although she'd been told about some German dude who made air conditioners and she was definitely going to track him down as soon as possible.)

Plus, with January came presents. Some people had already gotten theirs -- Kate had seen Jeff's puppy plenty of times now -- and she woke up nearly every morning and checked the hut for something that might be new and all hers. So far there had been nothing, not even that morning when she'd woken up, so, as usual, she'd walked to the Compound for a shower and breakfast.

What she hadn't expected at all was to find a brightly wrapped box waiting for her when she returned home. Just sitting there on their front step, a big bow on top and her name written on a tag. With a grin, Kate dropped down onto the step and began to rip into the box. There was a book, which she barely glanced at before dropping it on the step beside her, a weird leather looking thing and then a sleek, black box. A box with a gun inside.

"Uh..." Kate looked up and glanced around, half expecting someone to pop out of the jungle and tell her it was all just a joke. She didn't get guns as gifts. No one in their right mind would give Kate a firearm.

But there it was, lying in its box. The weird leather thing was a holster, she realized, and there was a box of ammunition. The book looked like it was mostly safety guidelines, but Kate couldn't quite get her brain to make sense of that yet. She was still too stunned by the fact that she was holding a gun in her lap. A real gun.

A real gun.