Hits & Misses
"It's a cold, cold world and it's got me down. But I'll get right back up as long as it spins around."
- Hello Cold World, Paramore
"I'm beginning to wonder if you'll ever be capable of hitting a target smaller than the broadside of an Intergalactic Plumber Cruiser."
Pointing the Level 3 blaster towards the ground, the irate markswoman-in-training shot the man a glare. An inferno raged beneath the pigment of her eyes. "I'm not that bad, Kevin."
Chuckling, he takes the alien tech from her and holsters it in one fluid flourish. Mockery is nearly corporeal in his low rasp, "You're right, you're a lot worse."
Folding her arms over her chest, she stares at him in furious silence. Frustration chars her throat, livid behind gritted teeth. "Why do I have to learn how to shoot with the thing, anyway? I'm spot on with my manna!"
He walks over to his car where she knows encasements of weapons (which, she later finds out, are outlawed in nearly every civilized star system) are concealed, "Even if it never comes in handy, it's good to know the internal workings of a blaster."
Fiery hair rippling in the wind, she distractedly tucks a loose strand behind her ear. She acknowledges that he is right. It irks her nonetheless that Kevin surpasses her with flying colors when it comes to marksmanship. She had assumed too much of her disciplined talents.
"Intelligence doesn't always loan itself to skill, Gwen."
She doesn't make any effort to reply. Her eyes are impregnated with a distant gleam that ultimately abstracts her nature. It's not often that he sees her in such a dreamily pensive state of mind. Her tone is soft, nearly a whisper, "I'm mad at you."
A sly grin tugs at the corners of his lips. His arm securely glides around her waist as they walk back to his car, "What? Can't handle the competition?"
"No, hotshot, I really am mad at you."
The grip he maintained on her passenger's door slackens. Carefully, he withdraws his arm from the slight curve of her waist, his visage distorted with puzzlement. "What do yah mean?"
For just one moment, gazes collide, and the impact is absolutely devastating.
"You know what I mean," she spat.
"No. Actually, I don't know." Indentations on his forehead burrow in bewilderment. "Tell me."
"How come you know how to shoot so well? Every single time you hit the freakin' bulls-eye."
It was made clear to him that this had nothing to do with competition or striving to be the best. No, this was about association. This was about things he never wished to tell her. This was about her relentless attempts to pry open his past. She had this uncanny way of getting under his skin and of unlocking all his secrets. Maybe he never gave her outright answers, but Gwen was a smart girl and she could conclude enough.
His intense gaze locks on hers and suddenly, he finds the words to speak. "I learned to shoot for the same reason I'm teachin' you right now. Self-defense." As he opens the car door for her, he cups the cool flesh of her face with his free hand. "Come on, I'll start the car. It's getting cold."
Nuzzling into his touch, a faint smile stains her lips. A shiver cascades down her body. Climbing into the vehicle, she shuts the door and as he rounds the front of his car, a small voice escapes her, "It's a cold, cold world, Kev. You, of all people, should know that."
A/N: Hmm. Not sure what I think of this one-shot. Was I too harsh? I tried to end it on a melancholy note. What do you think? (:
