The requested Stalker!Kyntak fiction. For Cassey11.

Six sat in a coffee shop. He was supposed to be "off", which in his line of work ussually meant "unofficial mission".

Today it just meant "Get out of the freaking office and meet some nice people".

The barista looked at him funny.


"Your name?" she asked. Six noted that in her three centimeters heels, she was barely eye level.

He answered just loud enough for her hearing damaged ears to pick up, "Six." She looked up, clearly startled.

Incredulity dripped from her tone, "Six?" He glanced at the tag on her chest.

"Yes, Blanka." That was the only name he ever knew. And as always, he had an excuse. He was going to be a regular, if King kept sending him off telling him to "get out more".

Six leaned in using a conspiratory whisper, "My real name's Albert, but Six sounds much cooler."

The girl nodded writing a flourishing "SIX" on the cup.

Of course his real name was Six and not Albert, a name he had never encountered in real life. At least it wasn't James or Alex. King wasn't that warped.

Six looked at the excessive whipped crème. That had to be bad for you. Or your waist line at least.

He sipped at the self-proclaimed-mocha-cappuccino hybrid and wished he'd ordered a normal coffee.

He noticed a blonde sitting a few seats away. He had a muscular build but was a bit on the thin side. The man was toned if the dip in his shirt was anything to go by. His face was tanned and a bit of stubble remained on his chin. Six guessed it was a dull blade and not carelessness. Sandy blonde hair stuck up in a way that wasn't natural for a crew cut. It had the distinct look of bleaching. All of it screamed "soldier" even if the man was lounging in an armchair.

The man must have felt Six's gaze because he looked up and colored. But, he wasn't shy. He didn't look away. He stared right back and smiled. Six was a bit taken by the blue eyes. They were a deep blue. It reminded him of the sea. And he was rambling.

Six felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment of being caught and staring in the first place. The man looked pleased. Six realized the emotion crossing the man's face was contemplation. The barista checking the blonde out was one thing, a Deck agent was another.

Six threw away the remains of this drink and left. No time for relationships. No relationships at all.

But, he couldn't help but think to himself as he walked away. That fellow looked familiar. Strangely familiar.

I don't know why. Wall is up.

Please catch the reference.