When Amy Met Army

Strange girl. Again, Army thought Amy might balk down a little after he accepted, but if anything she seemed even more hyped up for the fight than he did. He was starting to wonder why the world was so full of extremely aggressive women who didn't shy away from taking on a heavyweight boxer in a fistfight, and how come absolutely none of them ever seemed to make their way to Puerto Rico. Japan was the mecca for tomboys.

Army kind of wished he could watch the rest of the game, but there was only an inning left, anyway, and the Dragon were in a good lead. This'd be a small sacrifice, especially if he could get the ball out of the deal. Which he wanted. Really.

"Gomenasai. Remember." He gave her a little salute and made his way downstairs.

Ten minutes was just enough time to freshen up and grab a couple of bottles of water, one for both of them. If he was going to pay double price for glorified tap water, he might as well splurge and get her one, as well. He sat down, indian-style, and started to sip away while he waited for her to come.

It was fifteen minutes before she finally labored down the steps, drained, backpack on her shoulder. She felt like she'd bowed more in the past quarter hour than she had during her entire stay here in Japan. From the gauntlet of verbal assaults she'd endured, though, she was pretty sure she was able to pick up the Japanese for "crazy bitch." So that was something.

When she caught sight of Army sitting at the bottom of the stairs, however, she perked up considerably. She skipped down the rest of the steps and slapped him playfully in the back of the head.

"Gomenasai." She recited solemnly. "I'm practically fluent, now. Come on, I think the game's gonna end soon, but there's gotta be a big storage area or something somewhere that we could use." She looked puzzled at the two bottles of water. "Thirsty, much?"

Army wasn't exactly the patient type, so when he noticed that Amy was running a little late, he started to stand up and go check for her, make sure she didn't get lost or throttled by an angry Dragon fan. He didn't figure her for the type to run off, especially with the look on her face when he agreed to fight her. Fortunately, that wasn't necessary - she found him first and greeted him. With a smack on the back of the head.

"Ow." Barely hurt, no big deal, but she did startle him. Sneaky little thing, he'd have to watch out for that. He rubbed his head as he stood up and handed her the spare bottle. "Yours."

Army started to walk ahead of her, looking around as he went. Had to be somewhere they could use. Preferably somewhere with thick walls. "So, okay, you're Japanese is worse than the average anime geek, so I'm guessing you're new in the country? Just moved?"

"Oh. Thanks." Army was surprisingly considerate. He climbed another two notches in Amy's estimation. And she really was grateful, because she was parched. Amy unscrewed the top and took a long swig, but by the time she'd swallowed, Army was already down the hall. She jogged to catch up.

"Yeah. Well, I've been here for a couple of months now, so kinda? But you can't really judge how long I've been in a place by how well I speak the language. I could be here for years and still not know much beyond asking for the check or where the bathrooms are. Languages aren't my strong suit. I had to cheat my way through high school Spanish." Amy paused to try a door. Locked. "But I've found that in most places a big smile and really apologetic English is enough to get by. Not that you'd understand; you're already gomenasai-ing like a pro. You must be pretty settled into things here." Amy stopped by a stairwell, thoughtful. "You know, I'll bet there's something down on the ground floor. We should check before it gets flooded with people."

Army felt like he should take a little dig at her for the Spanish comment, but really, he wasn't one to talk. He'd be raised with both Spanish and English, they just came naturally to him. His attempts to learn French in high school ended in monumental failures, and the only reason he was getting the hang of Japanese was because he needed to know it order to keep up with his comics and games and TV shows. Also, because Carmen nagged his ears off about it.

"RIght behind you." And Army wasn't ashamed to say that she had quite a lovely behind, too. Though he'd probably hold back on telling her until they were a little better acquainted. "Eh, it's a mixed bag. Met some good people, met some assholes. Still getting used to the food and the weather. Way too cold. I'd never even seen a snowball close up until, like, two weeks ago." He gave her an elbow in the side and walked ahead of her, turning around so he could face her head on as they walked. "What about you? How's little Amy doing in the big city?"

She nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, well, there’s gonna be both wherever you go. I’d be surprised if I didn’t get at least a couple of dickheads in my neighborhood in heaven. First snow is always fun. What'd you think? Was it everything that you'd hoped and dreamed?”

Amy squeaked as the elbow dug into her side, and she felt instant regret. Nice, that'll get him to take you seriously as a fighter.

The thought surprised her- oh yeah, they were looking for a space to fight in, she'd forgotten. But she felt that she couldn't really be blamed. Maybe the fifteen minutes of apologies had done something to curb her bloodlust. But, more than that, the ice breakers, the gentle ribbing, even the slow walking... well it sure had all the symptoms of a first date.

Amy sipped her water and gave her new friend the once over. Tall, obviously, and she'd seen him without a shirt on TV, no complaints there. Handsome… was too refined a word for it. Hot, he deserved better than. A nice face? She’d think on it.

Moreover, he was a charming in a way that she wasn’t used to- rough around the edges but polite, a combination in short supply in her trendy, hipster/skater-filled LA youth. He was straightforward- no bullshitting about wanting that ball and why, which at the moment clinked around against the whiskey bottle in her backpack. But not an asshole, either- he could have used their tremendous size gap to just take what he wanted, but he didn’t. Plus, he’d seemed genuinely distressed when she’d stated her case.

And he bought her water. A gentleman. Well, at heart, anyway. He came equipped with a bigger, better mouth.

This didn't completely absolve him of Jackie's accusations, but they were certainly getting harder and harder to believe.

Amy blushed, and not just from the squeak. She held her water bottle up to her face as she spoke, just a touch louder than normal.

"Uh... Yeah, not a whole lot of snow in LA, either, but I've gone skiing and stuff, so it wasn't a first time thing for me. But other than that, I’m pretty into big city life. Always somewhere new to go, new people to meet, new things to eat, even at 4 AM. Actually, I’m surprised you’re not into the food here- I feel like they’ve got pretty much everything. What are you missing?”

She tried another door, and this handle gave. "Jackpot." She pushed the door in, and felt something topple over on the other side. "Oops, never mind. Janitor's closet." She sighed, getting impatient.

Army was probably going to lose some man-points just for thinking it, but he had to admit: the way Amy squeaked when he elbowed her was the single cutest thing he'd heard since he'd figured out where his two-month-old cousin's ticklish spot was. Really, she was just a little ball of unbridled sugariness, and he was still having a hard time believing she was a wrestler in the AFW. He'd find out for sure soon enough, he guessed. He just really hoped she had the skills to back up her confidence.

Granted, if she did, maybe he'd be the one in trouble. She had a lot of confidence to back up, after all.

Army sighed as she opened the janitor closet and they moved on - even on his off day, he couldn't escape the smell of ammonia. "Ah, I'm mostly just bitching." He wiped his nose and moved on along with her. "My sister's here with me, she cooks when she can, but it's hard for her to find the right ingredients to make it like she used to. Food here is..." He rolled his head around as he looked for the right word. "It's milder. Like, back home, we use all these spices and flavors and get the food burning. Here, it's weaker. Don't want to say 'bad', because it's not 'bad', it's just different. Tastes bland on my tongue."

He snapped his fingers. "I like wagashi, though. These little sweets they make at this teahouse down the street from my place, nice as hell. Got little bits of fruit in them."

Amy nodded, unsure of what to say. "That's gotta be tough, but I don't really get that. Sorry. I wish I could empathize better, but when I get a hankering for a taste of home, well, they've got McDonald's here. I kinda really miss tacos, though." She thought about it some more. "I guess if I were used to a type of food, and all of a sudden I couldn't get it anymore, I'd be feeling a little off, too."

Her eyes lit up. "Dude, I'm all about wagashi. There's an American-run place near the Friction campus that does all sorts of weird ones- like with peanut butter, and goddamn if it wasn't hard as hell to find peanut butter in Japan. I guess I haven't really had the real Japanese kind yet, though. You should show me your place, and I'll show you mine."

People were steadily trickling into the hall, and Amy stopped walking, frustration clearly showing on her face. "Fuck. Maybe we should just go fight on the field. It’ll be like a lumberjack match."

Maybe it was just Army's imagination, but it sounded like Amy asked him out on a date. In fact, he was about 99% sure it was inly his imagination. But still, pleasant though. He could think of worse things to do with his day than have lunch with a pretty girl.

"I think I'd like that." Army moved to the side as a few people started coming down the steps, making this whole thing way more complicated than it really needed to be. "And I think that'd get people to call the cops, not the sort of headache I want to deal with." He rubbed his chin and looked over to the side, where they had some concessions set up. "This way. If it's anything like the Tension arena, they've got a spot where they let deliveries drive up before the shows. Shouldn't be anyone out there, now. Good spot."

He'd been hanging around the Tension arena long enough to get a good idea of how places like it work, and he started to lead her that way, ignoring the stares they were getting along the way. They did make an odd pair. "By the way, any preference on the rules?"

"Nice! Let's trade numbers." Amy relaxed a bit, relieved. Huh? Was I nervous about something? She didn't think about it too much.

Army's next suggestion made the remainder of Amy's frustrations evaporate, and she smiled. "Hey, good thinking. Lead the way."

As they walked, Amy gave it some thought. "Hmm... Let's do knockout or submission to win. No pins- you’re gonna have to do more than just sit on me to earn this ball. Otherwise, anything goes." There was that feeling again, the tightly coiled sort of energy that radiated from the anticipation of an impending fight. She began to jump from one foot to the next, limbering up. Left, right, left, right...

Suddenly, the energy in her flared, and she laughed out loud. "Man, I'm pumped. Are you pumped? Come on, why we walking? Let's go!"