[She fell asleep on her couch the night before, up late reading library books, looking forward to sleeping in on Sunday. The starter apartment is still pretty bare, aside from the stacks of borrowed books here and there, roughly organized by topic: port history, modern genetics, a biography of Heron of Alexandria on top of several engineering textbooks, and a few of the funnier classics. She has a translation of the collected plays of Aristophanes fallen open on her oversized sleep T-Shirt - one blazoned with SERO's logo and probably given away en masse at office parties, given how many of them people had never bothered to retrieve from a Lost and Found that Anya went through.]

[At the sound of footsteps, she jerks awake, the book falling aside and she scrambles to her feet, grabbing up a rough iron bar, like a crowbar that something icky bit the end off of, holding it fiercely between them.]

What are you doing in my apartment?