(A/N: This is the first chapter of Hobbs & Shaw and that's Katrina's dress up top. Hope you enjoy. XxD)

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"Have I ever told you how much I enjoy working together?" Katrina asked as she accepted Deckard's hand and helped her out of the car.

"Likewise," he smirked as he wrapped her hand around his arm and they strode into the club, the red lights turning Katrina's white dress deep pink as they walked, women dancing in exotic outfits and people mingling as they made for the back of the club.

"Oh, champagne?" Katrina offered and Deckard smiled as he plucked two bottles from a passing waitress.

"Don't mind if I do."

The back room was filled with women in lingerie, not to mention dozens of racks of the lacy garments.

Deckard paid no attention to it, nor would he unless it was on his wife's body. He'd have to remember to take a couple of these before they left.

"Who the hell are you?" asked a man in a gold tux, surrounded by bodyguards.

"We're what you might call a champagne problem," Katrina smiled as she took a bottle from Deckard, a lot of the men in awe of the way her dress clung to her body as they clinked their bottles together before launching themselves at them.

While Deckard fought as he usually did, Katrina's fighting was more like a lethal dance.

She twirled, ducked, even landed in a split as she used the men to twirl her from one to the other before her bottle of champagne broke their jaws, a nose, knocked one out, made one bleed.

She even spun into a man, him catching her and holding her leg up high as his other hand settled on her hip.

"You're gorgeous," he said in a trance as she ran a finger along his jaw.

"I'm also married."

And she shattered the bottle on his head.

And then she and Deckard made for the guy in gold.

Katrina pulled a rope belt off a passing woman, the rope being using to tie closed a robe as she whipped it right into the groin of the guy in gold before passing it to Deckard, who promptly kicked him out the window, the only thing keeping him from falling being the rope that he held.

"A little bird told us about a shadow outfit," Katrina began as she leaned on the edge of the window, mindful of the broken glass. "Black tech. Blood ops. Real assholes like you, called Eteon. And you're going to tell us where to find them."

"And you're not going to tell us because I'm hanging you out of a window. You're going to tell me because I'm the guy willing to drop you. And the one with the patience," he said with a pointed look to Katrina who rolled her eyes.

"I'm more of a shoot now and ask questions later girl."

"So, are you going to tell us? Or am I going to drop you? In which case, if you survive, then she gets to shoot you."

Safe to say, he sang like a songbird after that threat.

"No! Wait! You can't leave me here! Please don't leave me here!" the man begged as Deckard tied up the rope so that he wouldn't fall, but he wouldn't be helped inside either.

Deckard then linked his arm with his wife's as he led her out of the club and said, "Let's go home. I got you some new outfits for you to model for me."

Her answering laugh was wicked as they waited for their car.

Working together was a dream indeed.