Private Here Comes the Rain Again

[Katarine Ryiah]

"Want to dive into your ocean"
​

"I see."

So he did not truly see himself as Sith. But he knew, with unwavering certainty, that he was no Jedi.

Katarine envied that certainty more than she wanted to admit.

She had lived for centuries and still had no understanding of what she was supposed to be. Every day felt mechanical now, one more mission, one more conversation, one more battle fought out of obligation rather than conviction. The fire that once drove her had long since burned itself into ash.

The pain of her past still lingered, buried so deeply inside her that it no longer felt sharp. It had become something quieter. A hollow ache lodged permanently beneath her ribs, heavy and familiar. Beyond that ache, there was little else. No righteous cause. No real loyalty to the war surrounding them. Until recently, she had not even known what she wanted from the galaxy anymore.

Then he came along and she finally found what she wanted, and that frightened her almost as much as he did. Somewhere along the way, he had become the center of her existence in a pathetically short time. A Sith, or at least someone she was supposed to treat like one, and a murderer, and a darksider… all things she shouldn’t want but suddenly wanted more than anything else.

The realization settled over her like cold water.

Katarine had never handled abandonment well. Loss had carved too many wounds into her life, too many empty spaces left behind by people who had vanished, died, or chosen something else over her. The cruelest part was that she had no claim on him at all.

One day he could simply leave.

Move on to another mission. Another purpose. Another woman.

The thought struck with such sudden force that it felt like a blade sliding cleanly between her ribs. She winced before she could stop herself.

Turning her head slightly, Katarine let the dark curtain of her hair fall across her face, hiding the flicker of hurt in her expression in the hope that he would not notice how deeply the thought had wounded her.

Then she did what she always did. She reached for sarcasm, flirtation, and wit to hide her true feelings. She turned, a mask now clear on her face to hide whatever dark thoughts had troubled her before.

“Are you saying since I am a Jedi I should put you in handcuffs?” She nuzzled her nose against the nape of his neck, and felt her head swirl in blissful dizziness. The darkside pushed away her concerns and her fears. The delightful high of it, and the thrill of his skin was all she tried to focus on.

​

Mikhail Shorn

 

[Mikhail Shorn]

Mikhail’s pale blue eyes narrowed as he felt the emotions undulating around her, though he could not quite pick them out. He’d never been much for telepathic techniques or anything like that. Then she leaned into him again, nuzzling up against him, and his eyebrows rose.

Not exactly the reaction he expected, but hey he would take it.

“Well, when you put it like that - why let your dreams be dreams?“

Smirking, Shorn pulled away and put up his hands between them, mocking. “Take me away, Master Jedi.”

He shrugged. “But when they kick you out for prisoner abuse don’t come crying to me.”

They called him a psychopath and maybe that was true, but psychopaths could not feel emotions, right? Mikhail did he just did not process them in the same way everyone else seemed to want him to… was that really so bad? He supposed maybe the constant string of dead bodies in his wake also had something to do with it.

…Oops.

Well, he was sure Kat would figure it out with the Jedi. Maybe after round 2.

Or three.

Or four.

Katarine Ryiah

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

“Is it raining with you?”
​

"But when they kick you out for prisoner abuse, don't come crying to me."

Katarine laughed, the sound warm and unbothered.

"I'm pretty sure I got kicked out the moment I fell for a darksider."

It was true. It probably should have bothered her more than it did. Instead, she found herself completely unconcerned with the looming consequences. At the moment, she was far more interested in the steady warmth of him, the familiar scent that made everything else seem distant and unimportant.

"I'm probably due for a career change anyway."

She shrugged, and the motion sent her leather jacket sliding from her shoulders. It pooled around her boots with a soft thud that barely registered.

The truth was, she was absent without leave. Sooner or later the Council would figure out exactly why.

Katarine knew she was already in trouble. Deep trouble.

What she tried not to think about was how much worse it would become the moment he decided to leave.

Because despite all her confidence, despite the jokes and careless smiles, she knew the fragile peace she'd found was balanced entirely on a choice that wasn't hers to make.

“When they eventually arrest me for abandoning my mission though I demand you write. This is your fault after all.”

Mikhail Shorn

 

[Mikhail Shorn]

Mikhail's cold blue gaze followed the jacket as it fell from shoulders and hit the deck behind her boots.

"I mean..." his gaze traveled back up from the jacket, slowing to roam absolutely lasciviously over the length of her legs, the curve of her hips, and higher until he met her eyes again.

"Or I could just arrest you now."

Shorn took a step forward. With the hard metal bulkhead of the ship behind Katarine, there was nowhere to run. Mikhail placed his palm flat against the bulkhead, just beside her head, and leaned closer until he could feel the heat of her skin and smell the scent of her hair.

"Or is that 'fell for a darksider' line all bark and," his mouth hovered beside her ear, breath hot, "no bite."

Falling for a darksider after fooling around once in a cockpit? The breakup must have been absolutely awful.

But twice in a cockpit in two hours? Who could blame her.

Katarine Ryiah

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

“Here comes the rain again”
​

Katarine followed the path of his wandering gaze with a quiet sense of satisfaction. She loved having every ounce of his attention fixed on her. In fact, she was beginning to regret putting her clothes back on at all. At the time, she'd been fairly certain he wouldn't want her to stay.

Experience had taught her not to expect otherwise. When your own husband abandons you less than twenty-four hours after your wedding vows, you stop believing men are interested in keeping you around for long. Even supposed heroes like Vanagor had walked away from her. If a hero couldn't stay, what chance was there that a villain would?

"Or is that 'fell for a darksider' line all bark and…"

His mouth hovered beside her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

"No bite?"

Her heart stumbled and then thundered in her chest. It was almost embarrassing how much she already wanted him.

A shiver ran through her as his breath brushed her ear, and it had nothing to do with the cold metal at her back.

"Nope." Her voice came out soft, almost fragile. "I'm all yours."

The words hurt more than she expected. There was too much truth in them.

Slowly, she turned her head. Deep green eyes met bright blue ones, neither willing to look away. The moment stretched between them, charged and breathless.

Then she closed the distance and kissed him.


Mikhail Shorn

 

[Mikhail Shorn]

Another interminable length of time passed.

Like a really long time, not a short time.

No seriously, it was at least five minutes.

The bed of the star freighter was hardly the most comfortable Mikhail had ever slept in. But feeling anything other than pain and rage in the Netherworld was just fine with him. Especially with Katarine Ryiah laying next to him. His fingers idly stroked the divot of her spine as he lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Now what?

Taking her back to the Jedi Order seemed like a terrible idea.

"When's the last time you really let loose?" Mikhail was starting to get an idea. "We should go to Nar Shaddaa. Coruscant is a shit hole these days anyway."

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

"Falling on my head like a memory”
​

Katarine was blissfully happy.

Her head rested against his bare chest, emerald eyes closed though sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. She listened instead to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and silently thanked the stars that it had started again.

The Jedi would never have approved of the power it had taken to bring someone back from the dead. Such things belonged to the dark side. The dead should remain dead; that was the natural order of the galaxy.

Once, she would have agreed without hesitation.

But lying here now, listening to the reassuring thump beneath her cheek, she found she couldn't anymore.

His voice broke through her thoughts, and her eyes fluttered open.

The last time she had truly let loose? She remembered it all too well. In fact, it was the very reason she'd sentenced herself to years trapped in carbonite.

Zeltros had been a haze of indulgence and a hedonistic blur of music, the darkside, alcohol, and hormones. Most of the memories were fragmented, scattered pieces of a reckless version of herself she barely recognized anymore.

If she possessed even a shred of good sense, she should have run screaming from whatever idea he was about to suggest.

Instead, a mischievous grin spread across her face.

"Sure. What's Nar Shaddaa got that would interest a man like you?" she asked, tilting her head up to look at him.



Mikhail Shorn

 

[Mikhail Shorn]

Mikhail's eyebrows rose at her mischievous expression. Yeah, just like he thought. She'd been needing a break.

Shorn held up a hand and started counting off on his fingers, "Drugs, booze, nightclubs, casinos, and absolutely, positively, no Jedi."

Icy blue eyes narrowed, "Unless they're undercover."

He paused. To be honest, he'd expected her to put up a little more of a fight. But he guessed she'd probably run herself to the bone with her own undercover work. Pretending to be someone else took a toll.

"You won't have to worry about the Order. Or about a job. Or about saving the galaxy. None of that will matter."

Mikhail shrugged. "One or two nights off couldn't hurt, right? I can always help you catch some big bad Sith the week after."

Katarine Ryiah

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

“Falling on my head like a new emotion”
​

"No Jedi sounds like a pretty good arrangement, considering I'm AWOL and will probably end up in cuffs the first time we cross paths with one."

She pushed herself upright in a fluid motion and swung a leg over him, settling astride his waist. Leaning down, she let the curtain of her long brown hair fall around them, hiding them from the rest of the world.

"Now, if I get dressed, are you going to let me keep my clothes on?"

A crooked grin tugged at her lips. She stole a quick kiss before slipping away and beginning the hunt for her scattered clothes.

It was easier to think when she wasn't touching him.

The moment the distance returned, so did the guilt.

Sneaking off to the smugglers' moon had seemed like a great idea a few seconds ago. Now, with her head finally starting to clear, that stubborn little voice of reason was clawing its way back to the surface. The haze was fading, replaced by an uncomfortable clarity she wasn't quite ready to face.


Mikhail Shorn