Kat doesn't usually obey orders, especially from strangers, but this is the one exception. I mean, who would ignore an invitation to Buckingham Palace?

Chapter One

"Ah, Katarina, I'm aware you don't usually read your mail… but I think you may want to read this particular one." Marcus quietly shuffled across the room and slipped an envelope into my outstretched hand. It was cream, heavy and bore a red wax seal. Wait – that wasn't any old seal. It was the Royal one.

"Marcus…?" I whispered in wonder as I ripped open the letter, unable to conceal my excitement, which was a rare thing. Usually, I wore a mask of blankness and sarcasm. Not excitement. At that exact moment, Hale sauntered through the door and plonked himself down next to me on the velvet sofa. Almost immediately, his eyes widened on the letter in my hands, then on the expression on my face.

"Kitty Kat. Please tell me that's not the Royal Seal."

"It's not the Royal Seal." I stated simply as I scanned the swirly handwriting that was way too fancy to read easily. It reminded me of Uncle Eddie's, which was similar in a way.

"You're lying to me, aren't you?" he looked at me with a small smirk, and I forced myself to turn away. I couldn't get distracted, and Hale's face did exactly that.

"Yes. Now be quiet, I'm reading."

Dear Miss Katarina Bishop,

I am writing to you on behalf of my employer, of whom I cannot name. This is a very delicate situation, therefore I have been instructed to employ only the best; due to recent events, it has come to light that this person is you. However, I cannot explain the requirements of this particular job on paper, therefore I have arranged for a private jet to transport you to Buckingham Palace so we can discuss the matter at hand. You have my employer's permission to have a friend accompany you to England, however they will not be permitted to know any classified information on the case. A private jet will arrive at 12.30, Tuesday 3rdof July. I will await your presence.

Yours sincerely,

Private Secretary, Mr Wickers

Silence.

"Kat."

I stared in disbelief at the smooth paper. Hale grinned like he always did when we got a job offer. Marcus stood politely by the doorway, expertly hiding his emotions, like always. I had dreamed of the day I would get an offer like this ever since I was ten, and finally that day had arrived. I didn't know how to react. My Father would be proud, Uncle Eddie would tell me to stay out of it, Gabrielle would get as excited as Hale, but I had no idea how I felt about the whole situation.

"Kat."

"The Royal family want to employ me?" a million questions listed in my head, all in a strategical order. I narrowed my eyes in concentration.

"Kat."

"What could they possibly want with me?" a million more.

"Kat!"

"Ugh, what?" I turned to Hale impatiently, and realised I was pouting. I hated when I did that.

"You're adorable when you're angry. Anyway…it's Tuesday. 12.00Am. you should pack your bag and I'll pack mine." As soon as Hale had spoken, I got up from the sofa and was making my way towards the door, when I actually processed what he had said.

"What do you mean, you'll pack your bag? You're not coming with me." I stuck out my tongue before climbing the stairs up to my bedroom. We were staying in one of Hale's new mansions, in France. As soon as he'd bought it, he converted one of the rooms into a mini library and said it was mine. I had no idea how he knew I liked to read; I hardly ever got time to pick up a book because of all the jobs I had to do. But he did. Somehow, he always noticed the little things about me.

"How do you plan on getting back to France? Where do you plan to stay? Kitty Kat, you need me."

"No, I need money, not you."

"What do you think I am? We both know I'm only helpful for my money. I'm coming. Deal with it." A strange feeling washed over me, something I'd never felt before… regret?

"That's not what I meant." The words were almost painful to choke out. I'd never said anything like that before, but Hale always had that effect on me. He made me say things and feel things I'd never knew I was capable of.

It was quite annoying, actually.

Hale shot me a sarcastic smile, and slung an arm around my shoulders as we made our way upstairs. I didn't attempt to shrug him away this time.

"You're so sarcastic, sometimes I don't know whether I should believe you or not." Was all he said. It was all he needed to say. We never needed to talk about how we felt, because we just knew; besides, I wasn't one to share my feelings, especially not to a boy.

"Shut up, you idiot. Get packing."

"Oh, so you're letting me go now?" he raised his eyebrows at me, and I realised how close we were standing in the dim light of the hall. His arm was still around me, warm compared to my freezing skin. Hale always refused to turn the heating on, because he was always hot. It got on my nerves.

"Shut up. Idiot." I added, giving him a small smirk before shutting my bedroom door behind me.

"Why do you always run away?" his voice was muffled by the heavy wooden door, but I could still hear him. There was a strange hint to his voice – something I'd never heard before. It killed me to not know what that was.

"What?" was the only word I could choke out through the lump in my throat.

"As soon as anything gets personal, or meaningful, you run! Why?" suddenly I was reminded of all the times I'd left Hale behind, or went on a case without him. Did those things really get to him? I was under the impression that nothing got to him.

"I – what – how do you know that?" the words slipped from my lips before I realised what I was saying. I mentally kicked myself for not being able to control my own mouth.

"For an idiot, I'm pretty intelligent. I just don't understand you." I could tell how hard it was for him to say that.

His footsteps echoed away down the hall.

I didn't understand myself either.

Author's note:

I intend to write many more chapters for this fanfic, so I hope you like it and I'm not just wasting my time! I'm really enjoying writing this though, so hopefully some of you Heist Society fangirls out there will actually like reading it as much as I've liked creating it.