It was a dark and stormy night, and even though she should have been paying attention in a sketchy neighborhood as this one, walking all alone by herself, all Rachel could think was, "How cliche of you, London". She hadn't known any better. At least, that's what they would be saying when they found her dead body in a dimly lit, grimy alley. She kept on walking as fast as she could, her stride long and quick, the tap tap tap of heel against pavement quickly becoming unnerving.
Down the alley, a lone figure leaned against the graffiti'd mortar wall, but in the depth of the night, Rachel couldn't distinguish the figure. The unknown person peeled itself off the grimy wall of the alley to reveal a girl about her height and age, physical appearance remarkably similar to hers, save for her punky demeanor and loose, wild hair braided along one edge of the hairline's part.
"Oi!" she yelled gruffly, her voice bouncing off the alley walls. Rachel vaguely, faintly, reminisced about old Disney movies, wandering through dark alleys being approached by questionable figures, but this time, it was people, not cats, she reminded herself.
"Wha's a nice girl like you doin' here in this part of town?" Rachel straightened up and walked faster, taller, stronger, and only gripped her Mace tighter against her palm, feeling her heartbeat thrum through her veins, the blood pump harder as the figure got closer. "Naw, seriously." The girl fell into step beside Rachel, easily matching her quickening pace, the thump thum of her boots against the pavement muffling the precise tap of Rachel's practical flats.
"Contrary to what you seem to believe, I'm not interested in anything you might have to offer." It was a tentative snipe, but a jab was a jab, and the girl cut in front of her, blocking her path.
"Wha'?!" she exclaimed, purely shocked, her eyes widening further under her smudgy eyeliner (Rachel did have to admit, under her moderately skanky exterior, she was quite attractive). They stared at each other, eyes piercing, one shocked and furious, and the other bold, standing her ground, and mildly horny.
"It's not like that, I dunno if you understand it, but-" Her eyes widened further, bigger (how?), but narrowed just as quickly as they had expanded, and quite suddenly, the peculiar girl shoved Rachel off to the left with a surprising amount of strength that Rachel was surprised to find she had, and her shoulder collided with the solid wall, soiling her jacket, and bouncing her skull briefly off the ground.
From her position against the side of the alley, she could see the girl (why would she even defend me after I fuckin' insulted her? i practically called her a prostitute!) duck and swing, slamming her fist into the side of her assaulter's heard, watched in fearful amazement as she swung the heel of her palm in a smooth arc, up and at the stocky man's nose caving under the blow, and gaped as her kneecap crashed solidly into his groin. He folded in two, and with a final jab of her elbow, he collapsed to the damp asphalt, moaning unintelligibly.
The unknown girl (The Shadow Girl?) slouched, panting faintly from the exertion, her clenched fists coated in a thin shimmering layer of crimson. Turning back to Rachel, she rolled her neck, realigned her shoulders, and stretched out her wrists until a snap crackle pop! was emitted from them. Slowly grinning, she offered a hand out to Rachel, and once Rachel's hand was tentatively clasped in hers, she gently but firmly pulled her up to her feet.
The girl's eyes widened again as Rachel didn't let go, and surprisingly, pulled her into a tight hug, mostly to reassure herself that the mystery girl was all in one piece.
Lean muscle fell slack as the slightly taller girl wrapped her arms around her. After a few brief moments, Rachel pulled back, mildly embarrassed of her impulsive actions, but determined to maintain her previous composure. After straightening her spine, tugging at the hem of her jacket, and puffing her chest out a little (oh dear, maintain your advantage, this is purely tactical) she stared awkwardly at the girl (she really had to call her something else, this was quickly becoming degrading), scrutinizing her appearance.
"Mmm.. Yes."
"Oh, yeah? Wha's that supposed to mean, girlie? I just saved your arse, what am I going to get for it, huh?"
"How about… a name?"
"Naw, how about three questions, yeah? Is beating up a grown man apparently not enough for you to get just my name." This was getting too easy; jibes were a simple game Rachel could play all day, but this was a time for expressing gratitude, not showing off skills of snark.
"But of course," she responded. "Duncan, Rachel Duncan."
The girl cocked her head at Rachel, smirking happily, blood still smudged crimson-bright against her lip.
"Sarah. Sarah Manning. First, what the hell, why the fuck are you in this neighborhood at night, and... wha's your number?"
"...Wasn't that three questions?"