Guns & Stilettos

Training & Smoke

Sweat runs down my brow and down the back of my neck. The bandage finally came off leaving me with a scar that twists around my arm, sorta like a snake if you think about it. Another to add to my collection .

My arms ache but I continue throwing punches. I would hate to be my punching bag right now. Somewhere from behind me Tristan exclaims, "Jeez you have stamina!". I whirl around, "How long have you been standing there?!"

"Oh about half an hour now. How long have you been working out?".

"Since 4:00AM, why?", I ask wiping my brow. He looks at me strangely, "It's 6:00AM now! Seriously, and I thought football practice was hard." I go back to punching, "Why are you even up yet?"

"Couldn't sleep so there wasn't much point in lying around in bed.", he says as I turn around. I smile, "Don't worry I couldn't sleep on my first night too. But, hey since you are up get changed and I'll meet you back here for training.". Tristan turns to go but stops, "How did you get those scars on your back?"

"Just because you can take down a drug lord and take his Bugatti, doesn't mean he can't beat the living daylights out of you with a wooden chair first."

He was staring at me now. Upon realizing this he quickly looked away and said, "I- I am going to get changed-".

"Tristan are you okay?"

"Yeah I guess...its just... why?

"It's a long story and if I'm going to do it justice I will have to to do it another day. Now we train.", I say smiling.

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Tristan walked into the room dressed in a loose gray shirt and a pair of gray tracksuit pants.

"Hey, so what's first?", he asked stepping up onto the sparing mats.

"Well first we have to warm up, otherwise tomorrow is going to be painful.", She said demonstrating the first pose. He adjusted his stance and copied her movements as Jess slowly ran through all the stretching and twisting motions. His face was set in a concentrated expression, brows furrowed slightly in the centre. She stepped back. The mats were soft and springy under her feet and oddly familiar. Jessica had spent many nights training nonstop until she had perfected every movement, every detail. Of course not all the training was centered around combat. Jess had spent three months studying biology. How nature worked and how to survive in it. Even if worst came to worst. "Have you ever done combat before?," She asked.

"No, apart from tackling people in football I haven't. Why?"

"Just wanted to know if you had any underlying experience I aught to know about before we spar," she said and shrugged.

"Before we spar?," he asked raising his eyebrows.

"Yes before we spar. Was I not clear?".

Jessica taught him a few basic moves and before long they were taking up their stances. He moved first, trying to pin her to the mat. She sidestepped him. Her movements were fluid, like a dance, as she twisted around and threw a punch. He turned to her — just in time — and dodged his eyes going wide. Quickly recovering himself he tried to kick her — going for her chest. With a laugh she flipped backwards on her hands twice and landed gracefully on the other side of the mats. "Hey! No fair," he said and glared at her.

"Who said anything about being fair?"

He threw out a fist trying to catch her off guard. She bent over backwards his fist a hairs breadth from her face. Jessica grabbed his wrist flipping him onto his back. He hit the floor with a thump. She had knocked the air out of his lungs and he was gulping in oxygen like a dying fish. "Hey you okay?," she asked, extending a hand to help him up. He took it gratefully and staggered to his feet. "That," he breathed ," was possibly the best and the worst thing I have ever done in my entire life."

"Well I must admit it was pretty good for your first time fighting someone."

"You're Insane. You know that right?"

"I prefer the term mentally hilarious," She said with a smile, " but whatever."

Tristan huffed a laugh, "Absolutely insane."

A strong smell pulled us out of our reverie. The unmistakable smell of burning.