2nd Floor Bathroom

Crossing the threshold into the almost entirely porcelain room, the former international spy and assassin takes off her soiled sea salt drenched swim wear and locks the door behind her. She turns on the facet to let the water run and slowly become warmer while she viewed herself in the mirror. She turns her head left to right, noting only a few but very subtle sign of wrinkles forming under her eyelids. She shook her head and sighed. Given her actual age though, people may become envious of her. She then traced her hands down past her once larger bosom to the small oblique scar that was spread across the center of her chest that was only about an inch to an inch and a half long in length; with a matching scar that exited somewhere on her lower back. Her fingers trace across the scar gently, and found herself slightly puzzled by its appearance. "I don't think that was there earlier this evening...but all the same, feels as if it's been there for a great deal of time..." she thought. The pinkish, almost invisible scar was hardly noticeable from any distance, if not for the slightly pronounced 'bump' it had made upon her skin, she would not have noticed it herself. By this time the mirror was beginning to fog up due to the heat of the shower's water and Cat quickly pulls the glass door in till it locked and began to bathe. While she bathed, faint memories of Taki and other individuals popped up in her mind. Taki who had stabbed her, but if given half the chance back then, could have done more damage than give her a tiny scar...
"If given the chance...that woman could have and would have lobbed my head right off with that Katana....I've only felt true fear three times in my entire life...that was the second time." she thought before closing her eyes. She then began to remember Handyman....Old Damian who is memory served, likely still thought of the bodacious intelligence operative as a casualty of their 2005 mission to Maine...but still...somethings troubled her about that event...something happened there that she still couldn't quite recall yet involving both Damian and herself...she couldn't quite remember the details yet, but supposed she'd eventually would as time progressed.

Soon the shower had ended, and the Asian American stepped out and wrapped a towel around her bodice, lazily drying her self off before simply draping the towel around her neck and let it fall over the center of her breasts. She slipped on a pair of panties she had already waiting for her in a shelf adjacent to the mirror that was above the sink. She slipped the dainty cloth on and then headed out back into the hall with the underside of her breasts still exposed from the towels lack of cover-her hair matted across her skull in damp clumps. She opens the door to her room and enters, closing it behind her and then again, locking it tight.