The young woman raked her eyes over the money in the briefcase and smiled. "Beautiful," she murmured.

"Well, it was a beautiful assassination."

The man across from her was faceless, but she didn't find anything odd about it. She simply smiled at him. "A pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise, I shall spread the word of Agent Echo. Someone ought to require your services."

Her smile grew. "That would be wonderful."

"Although I'd hide that pistol a little better. We wouldn't want anyone accusing you of going-" BANG!

The sound continued three, four more times. She thought he was saying the word, but it sounded like something was pounding a fist against a door.

Again, BANG - BANG - BANG!

She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she was staring up at an off-white ceiling through red lines. The banging was coming from the front door. Grumbling and groaning, she rolled out of her bed and into the hallway, nearly falling into the other - empty - room.

BANG - BANG - BANG!

"I'm coming!" She yelled as she stumbled into the adjourned kitchen, dining and living room, tripping over a shoe as she reached out for the key on the table.

Muttering curses under her breath, she undid the latches and jammed the key into the door.

"Have you got my rent?" Her landlord asked.

"Not yet," she grumbled, thinking about the money she had received in her dream.

"Then you get a new flatmate. Work out the rent between yourselves and if he decides to kick you out for not paying your share, I won't stop him. Enjoy the rest of your day."

As he turned and left, she stuck her middle finger up and twisted her expression. She quickly fixed her appearance - as best as she could in the large sweatpants and camisole, with her dark hair in knots wilder than vines outside the apartment block - when she noticed the young man with a bag over his shoulder and gave him a smile. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Peggy," she said, sticking her left hand out for him to shake.

"James," he replied before reaching out to shake her hand.

She frowned at their clasped hands. Something about his hand felt off, awkward. Like it wasn't quite human. She'd shaken the hands of manual labourers before and even they had softer hands.

"It's a prosthetic," he whispered, amused.

Her eyes flew open and her jaw dropped. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't m-"

"It's okay. So.....can I come in?"

She suddenly remembered what a mess she'd made of the apartment. "How about I buy you breakfast and you give me two hours to clean up?" She asked with a hopeful smile.

"If you tell me what Peggy is a nickname for and I'll give you four hours."

She thought about it. She could do with the extra time. "Margaret," she said, "but no one ever calls me Margaret."

"Cute," he said with a grin, turning to leave, "I'll be back later with my stuff........Margaret."

She watched him leave, whistling a tune as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Oh, how she wished someone would pay her to kill the landlord.

Going into a spring-cleaning frenzy, Peggy zipped through the apartment, hiding it all. She removed the weapons from the spare room and found places to hide them in her own room. She raided the kitchen cabinets and made sure there were no traces of the chemicals she uses to make poisons and their antidotes. She slipped on the tiles in the bathroom as she scrambled to make the first aid kid look less like a disaster kit and more like your average home kit.

When the four hours were up, she was sweating and breathing heavily, but the apartment looked clean, tidy and most importantly like no assassins lived there. The ringing doorbell made her her jump - and she hated that she'd been startled by it.

Taking a deep breath and pushing the escaped strands of her hair back, she opened the door. "Hi."

"Hi," James smiled. "Is it safe to come in now?"

"Mhm. I'd just suggest a bedsheet change before you sleep. Unless you don't mind using mine? They smell like lavender."

"Lavender," he said, nodding as he closed the door behind him, "I guess I'll tolerate it. Your accent makes it better."

"Ha," she laughed nervously. "This is your key. Uh, bedrooms are down the hall, bathroom right at the end. This is the kitchen, dining room. It's small but......livable."

Peggy didn't actually know if the apartment was livable or not. She barely spent more than three nights at a time in the apartment. More often than not, she was on stakeouts, waiting to hear for a job, or actually on a job. She hadn't received one for a while now and her dreams were beginning to manifest her raw desire for even a simple job.

No job meant no money. No money meant no rent. She was beginning to accept that she might need a day job.

"It's......very clean. Is - is the toaster sparkling?"

"Well, it's May first. About damn time I did spring-cleaning anyway. Uh, why don't you get settled and I'll get to work on dinner?"

"It's four thirty."

"I can't cook very well."

James nodded. "Right. Well, I will.....be back out in a while.

Peggy smiled as he disappeared into the hallway. Once he was gone, she allowed her terror to take hold of her features.

How the hell was she going to convince him she lived a normal life - and that she lived in the apartment?

Damn that landlord.