Private Decided to Reboot - Please delete

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean slipped out of the closet right after Katarine, the cool air a welcome relief against his flushed skin. He ran a hand through his hair, letting the silence linger for a moment as he avoided looking directly at her. Not because he didn't want to — Force, he did — but because he needed to keep himself in check. This was work. They were partners. And yet, there was something about the way she moved, the way she held herself, even now, that stirred feelings he hadn't expected.

Feelings he wasn't sure he was ready for.

At her comment about playing the waiting game, he gave a small nod and glanced around the office to double-check that everything was set. The bugs were in place, the devices were active, and they were ready to monitor. All systems were go, which meant they'd be leaving soon. Together.

"Yeah," Dean said, clearing his throat as he straightened. "I think you're right. We've done all we can here. Now it's just a matter of waiting for something to happen." He paused, letting his words hang in the air for a beat too long before continuing. "We should probably head back to the hotel. Set up there, get comfortable while we monitor everything."

As soon as the words left his mouth, heat crept into his neck and cheeks. He resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck — a tell that would've given away how much the suggestion affected him. Instead, he kept his tone steady, his posture composed. Professional.

Dean forced his gray eyes to meet hers, and despite his best efforts to keep things neutral, there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze. After a moment, he took a breath and let his smirk return, leaning lightly against the desk, "Ready to head out?" he asked, tilting his head toward the door, his expression calm but the faintest hint of warmth lingering in his eyes.

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean stepped out into the cool night air, drawing in a deep breath to steady himself. The scent of Zeltros nightlife hit him all at once — an intoxicating blend of pheromones, exotic spices, and the unmistakable tang of alcohol. It was chaos, but it was the kind of chaos that could sweep you up if you let it. Exactly the kind he probably shouldn't let himself get caught in.

He glanced over at Katarine, his gray eyes catching hers under the neon glow of the city. She was calm, collected, with that small smile that almost made him feel like she was a step ahead of him. He told himself to focus, to keep it professional, to suggest heading straight back to the hotel. After all, they had work to do.

But as he looked into her deep green eyes, that carefully constructed composure began to crumble.

Dean hesitated, the conflict clear in his gaze, and then he smirked, a hint of something softer behind the expression. "You know," he began, his voice lower, "heading back to the hotel would probably be the smart choice." He paused for a beat, his eyes searching hers as though he was weighing something important.

Then, with a slightly lopsided grin, he added, "But a bit of fun can't hurt, right?" His tone was playful, but there was a warmth to it, an invitation he couldn't quite bring himself to fully explain.

Dean gestured toward the vibrant streets ahead of them, packed with music, laughter, and life. "Let's explore the city," he said, his smirk widening just a little. "I mean, we're on Zeltros. It'd be a shame not to see what it has to offer, right?"

Even as he said it, Dean knew he wasn't just talking about the city. There was something about Katarine, something that made him want to break the rules just a little. Just enough to see where this night might take them.

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean felt the warmth of her hand slipping into his, and for a moment, his usual composure faltered. A faint blush crept up his neck and cheeks, betraying his otherwise cool demeanor. He wasn't oblivious — he caught the slight shift in her expression and the way she glanced at the Zeltron woman. Was she... jealous? The thought sent a ripple of amusement through him, but also something warmer, something he didn't quite want to name yet.

He smirked to himself, choosing to keep his eyes fixed on the path ahead rather than risk meeting her gaze just yet. The pier stretched out before them, illuminated by vibrant lights that danced across the water's surface. The scent of salt mixed with the sweetness of carnival treats, and the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore filled the air. It was beautiful, in a way that made him forget for a moment why they were even here.

At her question, he finally turned his head, catching her green eyes in the glow of the night. "No," he said, his smirk softening. "Never been to Zeltros before." He let out a faint chuckle, his free hand gesturing toward the bustling pier and the beach beyond. "It's… different. Vibrant. A little chaotic, maybe. But it's nice."

His gaze lingered on her for a beat longer than he intended, and then he added, his voice low but warm, "Especially being here with you."

Dean's smirk returned, a little more teasing now. "You've been a pleasant surprise, Mrs. Smith." He gave her hand a slight squeeze, the playful edge in his tone tempered by something genuine. This wasn't just another mission. Not anymore. Not with her.

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean walked beside Katarine, their hands still joined, fingers intertwined with an ease that felt almost natural — too natural. It should have felt strange, or at the very least, rushed. He had known her for barely a day, and yet the pull he felt toward her was undeniable.

It wasn't just attraction. He'd been around enough to know the difference between something fleeting and something real. But this? This was deeper, stronger. Like gravity itself had shifted and was keeping him locked in orbit around her.

It didn't make sense.

And yet, he didn't want to fight it.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, catching the way she kept sneaking glances at him and then grinning like she couldn't help herself. That damn smile — he was starting to think he'd do just about anything to keep it there.

His thoughts were interrupted when a Twi'lek approached them, offering free samples of saltwater toffee. Dean took the offered piece with a small nod of thanks, his expression unreadable as she flashed him a flirtatious glance. He didn't react, didn't entertain it. But what he did notice was the subtle shift in Katarine's expression — the quick flicker of something sharp in her eyes, the way her posture stiffened just a little before she popped the candy into her mouth.

Huh.

That was… interesting.

Dean smirked to himself, the realization settling in with a pleasant warmth. She was jealous.

Instead of acknowledging the Twi'lek's flirtation, he turned his attention fully back to Kat, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly as he lifted the piece of toffee to his mouth. He bit into it, eyebrows raising slightly at the unexpected flavor.

"Marshmallow," he mused, glancing at her. "Didn't see that coming."

He watched her for a beat, then, feeling bold, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to be intimate but still teasing. "Not sure what's sweeter, though — the candy or you getting all territorial just now, Mrs Smith."

His smirk widened, his gray eyes flashing with amusement. He wasn't about to let that moment slip by unnoticed.

When she asked about dinner, he hummed in thought, glancing around at the vibrant array of restaurants and food stalls lining the pier. The scent of grilled meats, fresh seafood, and an array of exotic dishes filled the air. "Nah, let's eat out here," he said, his voice relaxed. "Might as well soak up the atmosphere while we can."

Then, after a small pause, he turned back to her, his smirk turning just a little more devilish. "We can save dessert for the room, though."

His thumb brushed lightly over the back of her hand as he started leading them toward one of the more promising-looking restaurants. Whatever was happening between them, it was real.

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean let out a quiet chuckle at her playful claim of ownership, shaking his head slightly but not bothering to argue. He liked the sound of it more than he cared to admit.

Once inside, the ambiance shifted. The noise from the pier dulled to a low hum, the scent of the ocean still lingering in the air but now mixed with the inviting aroma of sizzling food and warm spices. The restaurant had a cozy yet refined feel, the lighting low and intimate. A perfect place for a meal with his wife.

That thought sent a strange thrill through him.

Dean slid into his seat and picked up the menu, his eyes scanning over the selection. He wasn't picky, but he had his favorites. And right now, he was leaning toward something hearty. Something solid. Something to keep him grounded, because Katarine was doing the exact opposite of that.

He glanced up just in time to catch her staring at the menu, deep in thought, her lips slightly parted, her green eyes reflecting the soft glow of the screen. There was something about the way she furrowed her brow slightly, the way her fingers idly traced the edges of the menu, the way she — kriff.

His stomach tightened.

He swallowed once, forcing himself to breathe before clearing his throat. "Think I'm going for the Bantha steak," he said, his voice smooth despite the sudden tightness in his chest. "Medium rare." His smirk returned as he leaned back slightly in his seat, watching her. "How about we share a bottle of Alderaanian red? Unless you've got a better idea."

She hadn't looked up yet, still focused on the menu, still lost in thought. But Dean wasn't looking at his menu anymore. He wasn't looking at anything but her.

And that was the problem.

Because he couldn't look away.

She was just — kriff. Too beautiful. Too effortless. It was messing with him. He'd been around plenty of attractive people before, plenty of women who knew how to turn heads, but this was different. He wasn't just drawn to her — he was caught. And that was dangerous.

But for once, he didn't feel like fighting it.

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean's smirk widened at Katarine's playful accusation, his gray eyes glinting with amusement. "Me? Trying to get you drunk?" He scoffed, feigning innocence as he leaned in slightly. "Now, Mrs. Smith, what kind of man do you take me for?" The playful teasing, the dim lighting, the way her green eyes practically glowed in the warm ambiance — it was a perfect moment. He felt good sitting across from her, like the universe had conspired to give them this one sliver of peace amidst all the chaos.

And then the chaos returned.

Dean barely had time to register the horrid stench before his instincts kicked in. The sight of the Zeltronian waiter setting down a slab of nearly raw meat, practically dripping with blood, sent every warning bell ringing in his head. His stomach twisted — not from the sight, but from the implications.

The droid's frantic beeping confirmed it, but before Dean could say a word, Katarine was moving. Her entire demeanor shifted in an instant, and suddenly, she wasn't just the woman he'd been playfully flirting with over dinner — she was something else. Someone else. A Jedi. She was sharp, demanding, her voice cutting through the restaurant as she grabbed the waiter. Dean's gaze flickered to the surrounding patrons, noting the growing unease, but his focus remained on her.

And then she bolted.

Dean swore under his breath before throwing a few credits on the table and pushing to his feet. "Sorry, folks, my wife's got a thing for bad steak," he muttered dryly, then followed her into the kitchen.

By the time he got there, she was already bursting out the back door.

"Kat—!"

He saw the swoop bike speeding away, the delivery man nothing more than a blur against the neon-lit night. Katarine cursed, frustration evident in every line of her body, and Dean didn't hesitate. He reached for her hand, fingers wrapping firmly around hers, and pulled her further outside. "Come on," he said, his voice laced with urgency.

His sharp gaze scanned the alley, and then— there. Parked a few feet away, a civilian's swoop bike sat unattended, likely belonging to some poor idiot who thought he'd have a quiet night out. Dean didn't even blink. With practiced ease, he strode over, knelt beside the ignition panel, and pulled a small tool from his jacket. A few expert twists, a spark of power—

The bike roared to life.

Dean swung himself into the driver's seat, gripping the handlebars before glancing back at Katarine, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "Don't ask me how I know how to do that," he quipped, eyes gleaming with mischief. Then he reached out a hand, inviting her onto the bike. "Now get on, sweetheart. We've got a delivery to track."

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean pulled the swoop bike into a sharp drift, the rear kicking up a faint cloud of dust as he came to a smooth halt just around the corner from the apartment complex. The taillights of the delivery vehicle dimmed in the distance, and as he killed the engine, the low hum of the city took over again — neon buzzing, distant laughter, the murmur of night traffic.

His smirk remained as he looked at Katarine. "Gotta admit, I might be having a little too much fun with this," he quipped before swinging a leg over the bike. With a gentlemanly ease, he reached out and helped her off, his fingers brushing briefly against hers before he straightened.

His expression sobered at her warning. "Right. No perfume, no grand entrances. We go quiet."

His sharp gaze swept over the rundown complex, noting the flickering lights, the rusted stairwell, and the general sense of decay. The kind of place where people could disappear, where no one would bother asking questions. It set his instincts on edge.

Dean exhaled through his nose and moved to the apartment's control panel, drawing a small device from his pocket. "No sense in kicking the door in and making a scene," he murmured, already working on slicing into the lock. His fingers moved with practiced ease, bypassing security protocols, rerouting power. A few sparks, a faint beep — then the lock hissed open.

The door slid ajar by just an inch.

Dean tucked away his tool and looked at Katarine, a glint of mischief still lingering in his storm-gray eyes. "After you, Mrs. Smith." His voice was low, teasing, but beneath it was a steady, silent readiness. Whatever was on the other side of that door, they were going in together.

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean followed Katarine inside, the door shutting behind them with a faint hiss. The smell hit him almost instantly — that same off scent from the restaurant, settling into the walls like a bad memory. He suppressed a grimace and moved quietly through the dimly lit space, his senses on high alert.

Then he stepped into the bedroom.

His storm-gray eyes flicked over the walls, and his stomach turned. Shit.

Press photos, crime scene clippings, psychological reports — all of it obsessively arranged. It wasn't just a collection. This was worship.

Dean's jaw clenched, but he kept his reaction contained. No sudden movements. No noise. Instead, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small datapad, quickly snapping photos of everything — every twisted article, every victim's name, every disturbing note scrawled in the margins.

He moved to the dresser, rifling through papers and small data chips, pocketing anything that looked useful. A few stolen IDs, handwritten notes, and — bingo — a personal holopad. That was coming with them.

Then, low but firm, he spoke. "We need to clear the rest of the building."

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean didn't question Katarine when she closed her eyes, stretching out with the Force. He had worked with Jedi before — still worked with one, technically — and if there was one thing he had learned from Valery, it was that their instincts were worth trusting.

So when Kat's eyes snapped open, sharp with awareness, and she spoke of someone in the kitchen and another in the basement, he didn't hesitate. He gave a single nod. "Basement first," he murmured. The kitchen could wait. If there was someone trapped down there, they were getting them out.

Moving in sync, he followed her down the rickety staircase, boots silent against the damp wood. The air thickened the deeper they went, mildew clinging to his senses, the unmistakable scent of rot curling in his nose. Dean clenched his jaw, suppressing the disgust rising in his chest. He had smelled worse. He had seen worse. But that didn't make this any less sick.

The dim, flickering light barely cut through the gloom, but it was enough to illuminate the shape of a cage. And inside... Dean exhaled sharply through his nose.

The Twi'lek woman was curled in on herself, frail and battered, chains clamped around her thin ankles, her clothes — if they could even be called that — tattered and grimy. His grip tightened in on itself, his fingers twitching with the violent urge to break something.

Focus.

Kat rushed forward to check her pulse, and Dean moved right after her, his expression unreadable, but the tension rolling off of him like a slow-burning fire. Kat would feel it — beneath the ice-cold exterior, he was furious.

She was alive. Barely.

Dean didn't waste time. Without a word, he reached for his belt, fingers deftly plucking a small plasma-cutting tool from one of the pouches. A sharp hiss filled the air as he ignited the tool, the small blue-white flame casting eerie shadows against the basement walls. He crouched beside the woman's bound legs, steady hands guiding the cutter to the chains.

A few tense moments passed. Sparks flickered, metal groaned, and then — The first shackle fell away. Dean moved to the second, cutting through it with the same quiet precision. When the last chain hit the floor with a dull clatter, he exhaled, shifting to glance at Katarine. His voice was low, controlled — too controlled. "We're getting her out of here." No hesitation.

And after that? Whoever was responsible, was going to pay for this.

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Kitty Kat]

delete

 

[Dean Walker]

Dean hesitated.

His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck flexing as he weighed her words. Leave her behind? His instinct told him no. His gut screamed against it. They had no idea what kind of monster they were dealing with upstairs, no idea what this bastard was capable of. And Kat? Kat was strong, but she was also kind. Too kind. People like that got hurt.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, indecision flickering in his eyes. "Kat, I—" He cut himself off, glancing down at the woman in his arms. The deep bruising around her wrists. The sickly pallor of her skin. She barely had the strength to keep her head upright.

He had a choice.

And it wasn't really a choice at all.

Dean released a quiet sigh, shifting his grip as he gently lifted the woman into his arms. She barely stirred, her breathing faint against his chest. His expression hardened, but when his gaze lifted back to Kat, there was something else in his eyes — something that wasn't anger.

"Fine." His voice was quieter now, but still edged with frustration. "But don't take any damn chances, Kat. I mean it." He adjusted his hold on the woman, his touch careful, almost impossibly gentle given his usual demeanor. She was light, too light, and it only made his stomach twist harder.

One last look at Kat. He met her gaze, holding it for just a second longer than necessary. "Be safe." A pause. Then, because it felt wrong not to say it, "And call me if you need me."

And with that, he turned, his grip firm but careful as he carried the woman up the stairs.

Katarine Ryiah
​