Don't own, don't sue. Spelling mistakes will be my own fault for being such a pissy typer. Enjoy!


Domination.

Breath laboured.

Hot, slick sweat beaded skin.

Madness.

It had to be temporary madness.

Or a trick of the light.

An illusion.

But Ames White had a look in his eyes of a man raging with pent up…

No, no way in hell.


Her breath equally laboured, panting in short gasps.

Bullet graze to her left thigh.

Dark denim jeans, dirtied from the chase, the fistfight and the blood of the only gunshot wound she'd encountered for two years since the Familiars war against Transgenics.

His disregarded weapon, lay about forty feet in the derelict car park outside a large, looming warehouse behind him.

The bullets spent.


His left shoulder tingled painfully.

A result of a beautifully powerful round house kick from the woman crouched only a breath away from him.

Expensive Italian suit torn, dirtied by the filth of Seattle's streets, her blood and his own.

Dark stains that would never clean.

And a tear of the flesh on his jaw, from her powerful right hook.


Both beginning to bruise.

Both…wait a minute…'beautifully powerful'?

Ames eyes widened momentarily at his own direction of thoughts.

Max swallowed hard as her eyes followed a single bead of sweat meandering down the Familiars temple, down his strong neck and past the collar of his once white shirt.


His eyes caught the deep brown one's of his adversary and slowly, with concentrated deliberation shifted his injured shoulder until he heard it click back into place.

Max tightened the tourniquet wrapped haphazardly around her thigh; her dark orbs locked to the calculating blue ones.

This fight was becoming tactically pointless. They were evenly matched.

But they'd both be damned if they admitted it.


White caught it. Just. The way she shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet, allowing her better agility. How she flexed her fingers in anticipation for his next move. So without further ado, he shot forward, hand gripping her leather covered shoulder, legs kicking out beneath him as he launched himself upwards and over her in a flip, to keep the Transgenic in a chokehold.

But ever the fighter Max swung one arm backwards and gripped his throat, pushing down on three very vital arteries, whilst her other arm hooked behind her to latch around his waist. Her legs hooking around his thighs as she forced her weight down on him.

White tightened his own hold.

Growling, she threw her head back, effectively head butting him so that they both landed in an entangleable mess on the grimy concrete.

Breath laboured.

Hot, slick sweat beaded skin.

How on earth or why it happened didn't seem to matter as within a matter of seconds White had dragged himself free and straddled her, the pair of them punching and beating at one another.

Until Max bit down exceptionally hard into his bicep, while her legs twisted and threw the Agent back a few feet.

Landing solidly, White only had a second of breath before he felt 452 pin him down to the floor, but he too used his legs to leverage himself and hook around her waist, tossing her to the side.

Both rolled to their feet and shot towards one another.

He caught her fist.

She caught his.

He stamped down on one of her feet and locked their ankles, keeping her secure in place.

She hooked her other arm around his previously dislocated shoulder and yanked, latching on with an equally firm grip and lifting her free leg she swung it over his hip digging the heel of her boot into his lower back.

With a soft smirk, Max threw her head forward for a head butt, but found nothing other than a pair of rough lips.

Their foreheads connected with a crack as their bloodied lips collided. Gasping, Max unwilling allowed the Familiar access to her mouth. His tongue sweeping over her own as her eyes slammed shut.

She allowed him.

He slammed her into the closest wall, which appropriately fell through, taking them down to the floor once again. Both now battling for a different kind of domination.

Until all that filled the night air were sharp gasps, hiss's and moans of appreciation.

Breath laboured.

Hot, slick sweat beaded skin.


A/N. Well...it's been a while aint it, since i had my lazy arse write something. Had a lot going on actually, but i am working on my other fics. Review please, it helps.