When Amy Met Army

Army watched Amy bounce around and instantly felt right at home - even if she didn't have the body of the big, brawling girls his sister used to fight back on the island, she certainly had the energy. It would be interesting to see what she'd do with it.

"Fine with me." His smirk widened. "I boxed before I came out here, runs deep in the family line. No Rodriguez ever had a problem scoring knockouts, believe me."

He jumped a little at the sudden outburst and broke into a storming dash, snickering as he raced her. He barreled down the hallway and dipped into one of the side rooms before the staff could tell them not to go back there. The place he was looking for wasn't hard to find, he just had to follow the corriders that looked less and less like people were supposed to be there. A few seconds later, after a hard run, they were both out in the loading area.

Covered in shadow from the stadium, nice and secluded, two high walls and a corridor long enough for trucks to drive through. Perfect. "Here we are." He stepped out with his arms wide open, spinning around to emphasize the space. "This do it for you?"

Amy chased Army through the stadium's back alleys, her smile widening for each bewildered Japanese stadium worker they blazed by. Finally threw back her head and she laughed; this was exhilarating.

They ran through hallway after corridor after passage. They passed important looking tables, and their draft scattered once pristine piles of papers to the air. Amy slapped the side of every vending machine they came across. It wasn't a race she could win at first, since she didn't know where they were headed. Once she got some semblance of an idea, though, she ducked her head and pumped her legs, managing to just close the gap before they burst out into the docks.

Amy panted lightly, her hands on her knees. She straightened up and looked around. The loading bay was nice and wide, with docks for three trucks, though none were there now, and surprisingly clean, a testament to Japanese attention to detail. The ground fell away forty feet from the wall to a depth of about four feet, or about the height of a truck deck, and the truck ramp looked to extend another 120 feet beyond that. Besides the way that they had come, there were two more doors, all on the same wall, preceded by stairs with metal handrails. They could hear the bustle of distant foot traffic from the over the walls, but it didn't seem as though anyone would be disturbing them for a while.

Yes, this would do just nicely. "It's perfect." Amy was trembling with excess adrenaline and excitement, and she desperately needed a release. While Army's back was turned, Amy picked up a stray wrench from the concrete floor and tested its weight. Then, with a sudden effort, she heaved the wrench directly at the metal handrail across the bay. Then, in the same fluid motion, she turned on her heel and launched herself at Army, aiming to drive a sharp knee into his unsuspecting kidney. DING! The wrench bounced off the handrail, and clattered to the floor."Hope you're ready, Army." She said in a low, husky voice, her voice box wound tight with anticipation.

Army nodded, glad that Amy approved of their little arena. It wasn't as good as a wrestling ring, but it would do in a pinch. He just had to take care about slamming her down too hard on the pavement and mind the walls - a hospital visit was about the last thing he wanted for the day, never mind having to explain to the police why a giant Puerto Rican was fistfighting some little girl in an alleyway. Somehow he doubted they'd see the baseball as a good enough reason.

The sound of metal clashing against metal drew his attention, but before he could even register it, he was dealing with some extreme pain in this side -  Amy liked to take the initiative, it looked like, and Army was learning just how bad an idea it was to turn his back on her. He let out a groan and wheeze as he stumbled forward and spun around, with a smile on his lips to match her own. Yeah, it was a little bit of a cheap shot, but he couldn't fault her for it. It just let him now what sort of fight this was going to be, and he was more than willing to oblige.

"Yeah." He raised his fists and started to bounce on his heels, moving like he was back in the ring. Round one, pumped up and ready to go. "More than ready. Let's do it."

Army came at her, closing the distance with a long step and swinging out. Two jabs headed her way, one after the other, quick flashes of his fist aimed at her face. He hated to mess up a smile like that, but this was her idea...

Her knee sunk into his back, and she was rewarded with a groan of pain from her larger opponent, and a flood of endorphins from her brain. But she was far from sated; she needed more, and she knew there was nothing quite so satisfying as a good punch to the face.

So she'd bounced off the floor in the direction that Army had stumbled, looking to keep on the pressure on. Then he whipped around with a dangerous smile.

Eyes growing wide, she put on the breaks, all but skidding to a stop. As she threw herself into hard reverse, she quickly hid behind her arms.

They were just quick jabs, and her arms were mildly numb from the drinking she had put in that afternoon. But, even so, with the added momentum of Army's step forward, the punches crashed with tremendous force over her guard. She was grateful that his bare knuckles were stopped at the gates, but... she was reminded of those old, American, black and white films from the Cold War, advising kids to duck and cover underneath their school desks in the event of a nuclear explosion. If she wanted to win- if she wanted to survive- she'd have rely less on blocking, more on dodging.

Once beyond his reach, she quickly shook out her arms, impressed, before putting her hands back up. "Damn, Army, those are some real fucking punches you're packing there." Amy started to bounce, her legs coiled springs, ready to explode at a moment's notice.

Army would give Amy credit where credit was due - the girl didn't shy away from pain. The jabs didn't hit dead on and he didn't expect them to, simply whiffing off her guard. But they had to hit with enough force to give her some idea what he could really do, and even with that, she was still staying in the danger zone. Her claim about being a wrestler was getting easier and easier to swallow, though he was wondering why he'd never seen her before. Needed to watch more matches.

"Only the best for you." He gave her a quick wink. "Having second thoughts? No?" He stayed as light as a guy his size could stay, working his way into a full dance as he came back at her. Even if he was the one with the power advantage, that didn't mean he could charge in full tilt - he was still feeling that knee from before, and Amy could probably do a lot worse if she gave him half a chance.

He moved towards her with another jab, using his reach advantage to hit her from as long a range as possible, before he stepped towards her to close the gap - this time, though, he followed up with something way more serious. A right cross came out, a hard and heavy heat-seeking missle going straight for her face.

She smiled and shook her head, but her eyes never left Army’s feet and hands. “I’m looking to earn a ball, not just win it. If I wanted easy, I’d have challenged you to a dance battle. Or Mario Kart.” Once Army appeared to hit a rhythm, he made his move.

Too far, she judged silently, glancing quickly down at his feet, and sure enough, she was able to lean away from his first strike without too much trouble. Then, when he stepped in closer, Amy ducked down and charged to the right- his cross whistled threateningly over her head- bringing her within striking range. She lifted her left knee into his abdominals- once, twice- then she danced away again, wary of incoming counters. Twos, she noted. Instincts were nice, but patterns made her feel a little safer.

Army blurted out a quick laugh at that one, his smile widening a few inches. "I'm pretty sure I could beat you at both of those things. I roll hard with Luigi, you'd never catch me." Army made a mental note to take Amy up on a game of Mario Kart, sometime. Even when he could get Carmen to play, she always sucked so bad it was hardly worth the trouble.

He let out a disappointed grunt as his fist sailed over her head, getting nothing more than air, but that turned into a grunt of pain when she blasted him in the stomach and smashed hard against his abs. He tried to bring down his elbow on her head, but she was long gone by the time he could even begin the move.

"Okay..." He had to keep up with things. As fast as she was, she couldn't dodge forever - eventually he'd get in a good hit. Hopefully it wouldn't be too late, like it was with Jackie.

Army moved in like he was going for another punch, but this time he tried something different: he brought his leg in and shot it out, trying to plant his boot right in the middle of her modest chest.

The grunts were great, but otherwise Amy couldn't really tell if her strikes were having any affect. Army was moving with the same, deliberate confidence, and, if he was hurting from her knee strikes, he certainly wasn't showing it. As much fun as beating on a durable opponent was, she wanted to see some results, goddamnit!

This is why she never bothered with poker. She could lie with the best, but whittling down chip piles just took too long.

Here he came again. Amy's eyes glanced down, and their distance told her all she needed to know; this punch was going to be another prelude to the real thing. She leaned back and counted. One...

Army's foot slid in neatly under her guard, striking Amy cleanly in the sternum. Amy yelped and stumbled back a couple of steps, but kept her feet. Her arms came up quickly back around her head, and she brushed off the strike, seemingly unhurt.

...for a moment, at least. Wincing, she took a second to lay an arm across her aching chest. She raised an eyebrow, as if to say, boxer, huh?

And BOOM. Direct hit. Kicks weren't his usual style, but they served a purpose, and this was a perfect example. The blow cracked her right on target, and she took it like a champ, looking like she'd only been mildly fazed. Army cocked an eyebrow, wondering if it landed wrong or if she'd mastered some ancient, Japanese trick for taking kicks in the chest and not having it feel she got hit by a cannonball.

...but, nope, she was only faking it. Sure enough, he got the desired effect. Just took a little longer than he expected.

"I picked up a few new tricks." He smirked and started to move around her once again, closing in as he circled. Surprising her with some of his news moves seemed to have a good effect on her, so he figured he might as well continue the trend. Time to grapple.

Army moved in like he was going for another jab, but instead, he tried to grab her army and pull her towards him, looking to wrap her up in a bearhug. His plan? Simple. Catch her, squeeze her, make her submit.

Amy took a step back for every step Army gained, continuing to play defense, but the truth was Amy was tired of reacting. It wasn't as fun, first of all, but more importantly, she needed to disrupt Army's command of the fight; her dodging wasn't perfect, as Army's surprise kick had indicated, and there'd be more and more of that if she didn't start taking control.

So when Army stepped in, she cocked her arm and threw herself forward... right into Army's waiting embrace.

"Fuck!" Army snaked his arms under hers and around her mid-section and lifted her effortlessly, and Amy felt her feet leave the earth. Then Army squeezed.

There was some cracking from her back, and Amy bit her lips and let escape something between a groan and a moan in between stifled gasps. There's nothing like a good bearhug, she thought, and this one's fucking aces. Also, this is a weird and possibly worrisome thing I like that I'll have to examine later.

But for now, Amy had to get free. Amy ripped the Dodgers cap off of her head and slammed it low onto Army’s, covering his eyes. Then she clapped the sides of his heads. If he dropped her here, she’d give him a heavy shove away from her so that she’d have room to execute a running superman punch aimed at the hat’s brim- or where Army’s face would appear if he could extricate himself from her cap in time.