Gideon had a niggling sense that this was probably going to have ended up being a terrible idea.
He couldn't really put his finger on why exactly, although the fact that Kat was apparently under the impression that he was just like all the other horndogs she waited on, or had until recently, anyway, probably had a lot to do with it. If she only knew. But she wouldn't, he was determined about that part. It would make the personal things easier, sure, eliminate the idiotic idea she'd gotten into her head entirely, but it would also probably crush her, and more importantly make her a target if it got out. "A secret between two people can only be kept a secret if one of them's dead," after all, and morbidity aside he'd found it held a certain amount of truth. If he told her, it would get out, sooner or later, one way or another. And that would make things dangerous for both of them.
Yet here he was, standing at her doorstep, knocking as if this were a completely usual thing. He'd left his bag in the car (fresh from a job he figured it was the better place for it), and after a quick change of the necessary layers he was presentable, although he hadn't bothered to dress up for the occasion, showing up in his usual layers of t-shirt and button down paired with worn jeans and boots that had probably seen better days. It was only an install after all, at least that was the idea. So after knocking, he waited, fiddling with the piece of hardware in his pocket.