Blood and Mud

"C'mon, give me something with a little kick to it!" The female recruit cried after another opponent fell down before her. Getting up, the opponent started to limp away, head lowered in defeat. "That's right, just walk off! Baby!" She taunted while looking at the others. "Who's next?"

Career Sergeant Zim, who was overseeing the exercise, watched her with mild intrigue. Jean had commented that this one would be a spitfire and once again it looked like Jean wasn't wrong. She was a star in hand-to-hand, taking down grunts twice her size with ease but he could see how she left herself open. The recruits she was training with were still too green to see it and she was too cocky to notice it. The junior instructors were quick in telling her what was wrong but she didn't seem to listen.

"Cocky brat." He muttered before stepping up. "Flores, what was that sorry excuse I just witnessed?"

The young woman snapped to attention. "Sir, I was just practicing the self-defense techniques that were demonstrated to us this afternoon, Sir!"

Zim regarded her with a cold eye before glancing back at the rest of the group. "You washouts hit the showers! You're done." He glanced back at her as she started to move with the rest of the group. "I said them Flores, not you."

"Sir?"

Zim didn't even glance at her as he removed his cap and jacket, neatly setting them on the ground beside him. "You don't like to listen, do you Flores? I see you making the same mistakes over and over, leaving yourself open to attack." He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before turning to her. "You want someone to dance with, you got your wish." He didn't even react to the abject terror that filled the recruit's eyes.

It had been unseasonably cool that day and over head the clouds started to gather, threatening rain.

"I ain't getting younger Flores," He barked. Every movement she made betrayed her. A glance, the way she turned her head, the rise of her chest as she breathed. They were all his spies and as soon as she made the first move, he already knew what was coming and how to counter.

She rushed him, head lowered and met his torso with her shoulders. The force pushed him back a few inches but didn't even throw off his center of balance. Sighing Zim brought his knee up and into her stomach. As her body moved up, he jabbed his elbow down into her back and with a twist to the right, easily threw her down into the dirt.

"Get up washout, " He ordered, taking a step back and waiting for her to collect herself and get back up onto her feet. "We're not done yet." She was heaving, gasping for breath. Anyone else might submit right there but after another moment she stood up and glared at him. Zim felt a twinge of something in the back of his mind as he stared her down. Was that respect? He did have to commend her on that gutsy attitude, not many had the wherewithal to glare at him. There was a rumble of thunder in the distance and a few seconds later the skies opened up in a torrential downpour.

She rushed him again and Zim easily sidestepped her, grabbed the back of her head and pushed her face first into the mud.

"You're starting to lose my interest washout. And that is a dangerous thing." He walked towards her as lightning started to flash above them. She was struggling to get up now, he could see her chin was bleeding but again, she got up and glared at him. "Coming back for more, don't you know when you're beat?"

"Sir, no Sir." She panted before trying to grapple him.

Zim was a little surprised, not many would try for a frontal assault a third time but maybe Flores was the kind who believed in luck. Too bad luck wasn't going to be enough. The two continued for well over an hour. Every time Zim stuck her down she'd get right back up, bloodied, bruised and blue eyes burring with fire. Zim admired the spirit she had but he could see her starting to get tired. Her moves were getting sloppier and sloppier.

"Look alive grunt!" He yelled as the two locked together. Hooking his foot behind her ankle, he pulled Flores's leg out from under her. As she fell she countered by wrapping her legs around his dominate one and pulled him down with her. Landing roughly, Zim did his best to regain a dominate position. Grabbing her left arm, he brought her fist up and over his left shoulder and wrapped his arms around it while one leg held her torso down and the other pinned her shoulders to the ground.

Something about this time was different though. There was no struggle, no growls of frustration no whimper of pain. Releasing the armlock, Zim untangled himself and knelt down next to her. He could see her breath in the cold so she was still alive, a plus, but she was unconscious. With a dissatisfied rumble, he picked her up in his arms. Instinctively Flores curled up against his chest, her head coming to rest up against his shoulder.

If it had been any other time, if he had been any other man he might have taken notice of how her uniform was clinging to her body or how her figure fit just so nicely against his. He shifted her a bit as he carried her towards the medical tent. Once inside, he strode past the medical personal to gingerly set her down on a free gurney and took a step back as the corpsmen rushed in. As he left, he felt a twinge of something else. Jealously maybe that she didn't best him at least once but there would be other times when he and the little spitfire would clash.