Another first day

Ch.19.Colonel's.Request.

"C'mon, princess, you got it, just take me down." He's standing, firm as a damn wall, and I've been trying to get him down on the mat, spending at least five minutes struggling in front of both Chris and our trainers, which is only a little embarrassing. It's a task I've been given many times before, finding a way to take down a bigger opponent, without using their momentum, only my own, which hasn't worked out well for me so far, considering I've failed the exercise every time.

"Shut up... I'm... Trying-!" I can't do it, he's too sturdy, stronger than he used to be, standing steadfast under my rough shoving and other techniques, most of which are more violent than I like, I'd much rather be doing this to our less friendly trainer, having it be someone I dislike would make it a lot easier, but he's smaller than my partner, and I've already taken him down, so I'm being forced to move onto a bigger target, Leon.

"You got him, sugar! Take his weak point!" I offer Chris an amused smile over my shoulder, and he gives a big thumbs-up, looking silly sitting on the grass a few feet away, legs spread, muddy from his earlier fight with my partner, which he lost. Chris' strategy lacks any real thought, just punch after punch, making it easy to predict his moves. Chris is the worst fighter of the three of us, beaten by Leon within the first two months, more recently by me. I haven't beat Leon, our strategy and style extremely similar, his height and weight the only real difference, leaving me at a serious disadvantage.

"That's enough, fight!" He's after me in less than a second, breaking his stance to throw a kick, barely stopped by my block, my reflexes sluggish when I've already half exhausted myself trying to knock him over. He's smiling, looking overly pleased with himself, throwing and blocking punches, entirely too predictable.

"That all you got, Agent Kennedy? Come on-" I land a hit, thankful the title still gets a reaction out of him, his head swinging to the side under the force of the blow. I feel bad, but it's all part of the exercise, and our hands are wrapped, so it doesn't hurt too bad, only enough to make you want to win.

"Cheap, sweetheart. Keep it professional, yeah?" He feints an elbow strike, grabbing at my blocking arm with his opposite hand, pushing back on my upper body and swinging his leg around behind me, knocking me down, using his grip to ease me down rather than let me slam the back of my head to the mat, which I'm thankful for, considering the terrible headache I've had all week.

"Kennedy, no mercy!" He frowns, moving to pin me, but I rip one arm free, pushing my hips up and pressing my palm to his shoulder, throwing him off balance enough to get one of my legs between us, pressing my boot into his sternum, forcing him back onto his back. I follow him quickly, rolling myself up to seated, falling back when his hands come after me, sending a harsh kick at him before crawling out of his reach to stand. It's not the coolest looking move, but I know if he gets his hands on me there's a small chance I'll be able to escape, not with how big he is, how easy it is for him to get me on the floor.

I work to tire him out, dancing around him, keeping out of reach, mostly defensive, as usual, not like I can take offensive unless he gives me an opening, which is rare. "You almost done?" I'm out of breath, wishing Krauser would call it, tired of the constant back and forth we have going, neither of us able to gain the upper hand, too calculating and aware of the other to let any attacks through, or land any of our own.

"No way, princess, not until you're under me." He smiles, big and teasing, and I laugh at his obvious wording, giving him his chance to take me down, a roundhouse sent toward my head, caught by careful fingers, the power behind it sending me falling to the side, a rough pull to his shin bringing him with me to the mat, half overtop me, his hips above my face, his leg held to my chest, thankfully not pressing down. He's careful to never cause me any real harm, something I both love and hate, his gentleness becoming more reclusive the more conditioning we go through, but still showing through when it matters. I wish he'd be more rough, give me the fear I need to fight my best, but he doesn't, and he won't, not that I blame him, it hurts enough seeing him beat up by someone else, let alone doing it to him myself.