A/N: Takes place several months after the events of Mortal Kombat: Rebirth.

There was nowhere you could go in Deacon City to get a decent cup of coffee.

Most of the coffee shops had been closed down for years because of how rough the city had gotten, and the few that were left had no idea how to make coffee. They just pop the grounds in the filter, plug it into a machine and churn it out. Some might enjoy that, but others had a different taste.

But that was all you could get. There were maybe two places left where you could get it so that your coffee was at least tolerable. But even then, sometimes the employees don't take pay very close attention as to what exactly they're doing and more often than not, they ruin the coffee they do have.

So it was a miracle when Kurtis Stryker and Kenshi Takahashi came across this place. It was on a rather unusual patrol. The guys who usually took this route decided they didn't need to be cops anymore and Captain Jackson Briggs asked for a favor. Being decent men, they said they'd take the route.

And it turned out to be a good decision in the end. They found a place called the Perk House. Okay, the name was terrible, but the coffee was simply fantastic. So, when new cops were found for the route, Stryker and Kenshi went out of their way to go to this shop every morning for a little pick up. Well, the decision was mostly Stryker's, as he was the one who drank the coffee. Kenshi settle for a scone or maybe a bagel.

But then they came in for a fifth time. And that's when shit hit the proverbial fan.

Stryker ordered his usual, dark roast, two creams, three sugars, and Kenshi simply bought a muffin. "Trying something new?" Stryker asked, sipping on his coffee.

Kenshi nodded, taking a bite. He said something, but was muffled by the muffin in his mouth.

"Didn't your mother teach you to not to talk with your mouth full?"

After a swallow, Kenshi shot back, "Bite me."

"Sorry, not interested," Stryker replied, taking another sip from his coffee, but winced. "God, why is it so much hotter than usual?"

"Did you remember the cream?"

"Of course I remembered the…" Stryker reached over to grab the two empty containers of coffee creamer, only to find that they were not, in fact, empty. How the hell did he forget that? The police officer gave Kenshi a glance. The swordsman was grinning. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it," Stryker shot back, dumping his creams into the coffee. "Okay, but let me ask you this. Why is this the only place that makes decent coffee?"

"Wouldn't be able to tell you."

"C'mon. Humor me."

Kenshi sat down the few bites of his muffin he had yet to take and leaned back. "This place is new, right?"

"Far as I know."

"Maybe they haven't been spoiled by the emptiness and horribleness of this city. They still think they can make a difference, and all they need is a decent cup of Joe."

Stryker raised an eyebrow, having forgotten his coffee momentarily. "That was so melodramatic it hurt. Like, physically, I mean."

Kenshi sent a soft push into Stryker's midsection, causing him to hiss out in pain. "Dude, c'mon. That's where I was stabbed."

"Kurt, you get stabbed all the goddamn time. I could push you in the shoulder and I'd hit a stab wound."

Stryker rubbed his side, mumbling, "Still hurts like a bitch."

The bell chimed, signalling someone entered through the door.

"So, when was the last time you were stabbed again?" Kenshi asked, taking another bite from his muffin.

"Let's see… had to have been at the tournament. That Baraka guy, I think. Such an asshole."

"We never did catch him, did we?" Kenshi asked, scarfing down the rest of the muffin. "Him, Kano, and that other guy."

"That other guy?"

"Yeah, um, what was his name?" The swordsman tapped his temple, trying to think of the name he was forgetting. "Eh, not important."

Two men walked up to the counter and sat down. They glanced at the two officers before looking at each other and nodding.

"We probably won't catch him," Stryker noted. "If they're smart, they're in Mexico by now. Or Canada. Canada sounds nice. Hey, have you ever been to Canada?"

"Stop saying 'Canada.'"

"Sorry. But let's get back to the wonders of coffee!"

Kenshi winced. "I'd rather not."

"You just hate the fact that you cannot enjoy the wonders of this delectable drink."

"When someone hypes up something like coffee, it's really… wait…"

Stryker raised the drink to his lips before stopping. "What is it?"

All joking had left the conversation. Stryker set down his coffee, Kenshi leaned closer to him. "The two at the bar." Stryker moved to look, but Kenshi stopped him. "Don't look. They're talking about us."

"What are they saying?" Stryker asked, taking another sip of his coffee. They both made sure to keep their voices low.

"They were planning on robbing this place. I can smell the gunpowder from here," Kenshi noted with disgust. "Now that they see us, they plan on firing on us."

"When?"

"Don't know. But get ready."

"For what?"

"There's about to be a fight," Kenshi noted, reaching for a pocket.

Stryker sighed in disappointment. "We won't be able to come here anymore, are we?"

"Nope."

Just as the two men stood up and turned around, Stryker was already up and tackling the man on the right into the bar. He sent a vicious right hook, knocking a tooth out. He held tightly onto the gun, making sure it was pointed at the ceiling instead of any of the patrons.

Just at the guy on the left pulled out his gun, Kenshi held out a hand and sent a telekinetic push into him. The would-be mugger was pushed over the bar. The swordsman shouted, "Everyone out! Now!"

There were screams as the guy Stryker was struggling with fought back. A punch to the gut and a left cross sent Stryker stumbling back. He reached to wipe away the blood pouring from his nose, but he didn't get very far when he was tackled into the table.

The gun was pressed to Stryker's face, ready to be fired at any time. A blue glow surrounded the gun as it was ripped from the robber's hand. It landed in Kenshi's as he sent a telekinetic punch into the robber's face. He was tossed back into the window, nearly causing it to shatter. A small smirk crossed Kenshi's face. Unknown to him, however, the goon from earlier had crawled back out from under the bar, holding a bottle.

Stryker tried to shout, "Kenshi!" It was too late, however.

He smashed it down on the back of Kenshi's head, knocking him out cold. Stryker jumped to his feet and rammed his shoulder directly into where he approximated the goons kidney was. A wad of spit launched from the goon, and a stiff uppercut shattered a couple teeth.

Stryker grabbed the guy by the collar and, with both hand, whipped him into the window the other robber was lying.

The first guy was just getting up when the other one was thrown into them, so the both slammed into the window. It didn't withstand the weight.

It cracked and shattered, sprawling the both of them on the sidewalk.

A few groans came from them as Stryker helped Kenshi to his feet. "You okay?" he asked, dusting his friend off.

"I'm fine." Kenshi cracked his neck, before sighing. "Alright. Let's make an arrest."

The two robbers got to there hands and feet when they noticed something. Leveled next to both of their heads was Kenshi's sword, Sento. That smirk came back, as Stryker was already radioing the crime in. "You two have the right to remain silent."