Risk and Rebel's Guide Book

NIX > EXCERPT

LASAR HQ

--

Nix usually did one-on-one training with Snag or Jaguar -- sometimes even Pride. They each had unique enough styles that she felt as though she was challenging herself, and it helped that they were the most likely to be in headquarters at the same time. 

But today was not a usual day. A lot of agents had just been deployed on a number of missions globally, and as a result, the only other individuals in headquarters were Teams Alpha and Charlie, as well as Major. Nix immediately excluded Charlie and Major (the last time she trained with Gambler she almost lost a finger, and Major had a horrid tendency of talking more than actually fighting). 

That left her with Team Alpha. 

She was reluctant to approach either Risk or Rebel, not because of fear or dislike, but because they had a different air about them than the rest of LASAR. She assumed every other agent noticed it and it just went unspoken. It wasn't that Boss had declared them the best . . . it was-- something else. She wasn't sure how to explain it, mostly because she couldn't figure out what it was. 

So she had done her best not to overthink it, and after a brief run in with the dynamic duo (wherein Rebel had declined because he "needed a shower, stat"), she found herself in the training space with Risk, both in roomier, sweats versions of their field clothes.

"No powers?" Nix asked, stretching her neck.

"No powers," Risk confirmed, shaking out her hands. 

Nix nodded once in agreement, before they began to circle each other. Though she stood nearly a head taller than Risk, they both knew size would not be the determining factor in this session. 

Nix made the first move, and was unsuccessful.

Risk didn't retaliate right away, rather seemed to allow Nix another shot. This time when Nix delivered a well-practiced high kick, it shifted into a graceful and deadly dance between the two girls. Every once in a while, one would land a hit on the other -- one, Risk; another, Nix -- but for the most part, they moved fluidly, through elaborate kicks and spins, body's twisting and bending ...

Until fluid movements turned sharp, altered when Risk's elbow made a sharp connection with the soft part of Nix's belly. 

Their dance ended quickly soon after that, and if Nix were being honest, she wasn't entirely sure how she ended up with Risk's arm wound around her neck, threatening to cut off her air supply. Nix tapped out before black could creep into the edges of her vision, and Risk took a swift step back after releasing her.

When Nix got to her feet, she rubbed at her throat absentmindedly, unsurprised to see Risk with her hands on her hips.

"You left yourself open."

Nix flashed a crescent moon smile, bright against her dark skin. She remained unaffected by Risk's sharp criticism. "Barely."

"It was enough," Risk pointed out, turning away to head for the mini-fridge. "Enough that I could have done worse."

Nix's smile only widened. "Risk, you do realize that out in the field, I've never encountered opponents with your experience before?" She stretched her arms out, above her head, behind her back ... "And I doubt I ever will."

Risk faltered only slightly, so briefly that anyone outside of LASAR wouldn't have noticed. She regarded Nix suspiciously as she twisted open a water bottle. "Your point?"

"My point is that unless I'm facing you or Rebel in a life or death situation," Nix said, "I'll survive."

Risk arched a brow. "What about Charlie?"

Nix's smile took on a bitter edge. "One-on-one, I could take them. They'd have to gang up on me. And even they aren't foolish enough to do that."

At this, Risk merely shrugged, her features settling into a passive neutrality. She finished off half the bottle before capping it, and turning dark eyes toward Nix. "It was good to spar with you," were her parting words.