A/N: Hi guys, this is my first fanfic so bear with me a little as I get a feel for it. Just to clarify, this is AU. There is no specific setting for this story, though I'm thinking sometime around the 19th century in a large Asian city like Shanghai. If I happen to mention something that was invented later or would not make sense during that time period/place, just roll with it. Anyways, without further adieu, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the hot mess known as glee.

Warnings: mild violence, this is about a fighting tournament after all, but nothing too graphic, more just description of skill.

Chapter 1

She was sat at the back of the arena. People passed by without giving her a second glance. With the hood of her cloak shadowing her face, nobody had yet realized her gender. Her preliminary match was drawing close. Nervousness snaked up her leg as it bounced up and down. She leaned forward to rest her forearms on her knees in an effort to calm her body. Get a grip, she thought to herself. You're Santana effing Lopez. These losers won't know what hit them. She had to win this fight. If she couldn't even make it past the prelim round, how would she prove herself to her family? How would she show them that she was more than just some lowly female whose sole goal in life was to find a good husband? Hell, she could deal with never finding a husband. All she wanted was some respect. Even if her family never came around, she could still use the prize money from the tournament to finally end her dependence on her parents. She could go out and see the world. She'd heard London was an interesting place. The country side of France was supposed to be breathtaking. Perhaps even—

"Participant number 24601 and participant number 32109 please make your way to Stage 1. Your fight will start in 3 minutes."

She looked down at the small registration slip she had been given. 24601, looks like I'm up. She stood up and swiftly made her way towards Stage 1. As she walked up the steps and onto the small elevated platform that would be the setting for her fight she was finally able to glimpse at her opponent. His appearance left much to be desired. He was fairly short for a man, just a few inches taller than herself, and his most prominent feature was a rather large gut that made her wonder if he had trouble getting up on the stage.

As soon as he saw her petite stature he let out an obnoxious laugh and exclaimed, "Ha! That? I'm supposed to fight a toothpick? I could break the little guy just from looking at him too hard."

"Try it beer belly. I'm surprised you even managed to get up on stage. You closer resemble a beached whale than a brawler" she replied.

"You smart-mouthed little brat! Show your face!"

Well, I guess now's as good a time as ever. Her hand came up to her neck and undid the fastenings on her cloak and let it fall away. She heard the gasps in the crowd as her face and figure were revealed to the audience. She was dressed in simple trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, but there was no hiding that her form was female. Her raven hair hung freely around her face. The entire arena was silenced and the anger on her opponent's face had given way to complete and utter surprise.

"Y-you- you're a woman" the man finally uttered.

"What keen skills of observation you possess. Truly impressive."

Ignoring everything she said he turned to the announcer. "You can't be serious, I'm not fighting a girl."

She rolled her eyes at that. Did everyone need to be so pigheaded? "What, are you scared? I can fight with one hand behind my back if you'd prefer. Or perhaps blindfolded?"

Yep, that did the trick. The man's face was beet red by now. He was no doubt unaccustomed to getting such responses from a woman, and her snark was the stuff of legends. He let out a frustrated yell as he lowered his gait and started to charge, intending on tackling her straight off the stage.

"Oh!" the scrawny announcer squeaked. "Uh… Begin!"

As soon as her opponent was in range her right foot shot straight up above her head and then immediately back down as she dropped her heel onto the top of his head, sending the man's face crashing into the ground.

While he worked on getting up, she assumed a more fight-ready stance: feet a little more than shoulder width apart, right foot in front, knees slightly bent, elbows drawn in close to her ribs, closed fists by her face. She bounced her weight back and forth on the balls of her feet, ready to shift quickly in any direction.

Recovering, the man stumbled to his feet, his hand cradling his probably now broken nose. Shock clearly written on his face, he stared at her, not quite believing what she had just done. However, he didn't dwell on it long and started to lumber forward, ready to launch another attack. He threw a wild hook punch that she easily stepped under. Now facing his back, she brought her hand up to tap his shoulder. "Um, sir, I'm over here." She smirked as he whipped around, frustration evident on his features as he started a new onslaught of punches. She easily blocked and avoided everything he threw at her.

She had just sidestepped a punch when she saw her opportunity. Her hand darted out, fist slightly flattened so that her knuckles caught him square in the throat. His eyes bulged out as he coughed and stumbled backwards away from her. But she wasn't done yet. Her left foot stepped forward and pushed off of the ground to give her lift as her body twirled 360 degrees, ending as the top of her foot connected with her opponent's temple. A perfectly executed tornado kick. He instantly crumpled to the ground in an unmoving heap.

I did it. The crowd erupted into cheers of shock and elation. No one had even entertained the thought that she might win, let alone with such an impressive show of skill. I guess the cliché is true, everyone loves an underdog. But only when the underdog wins, she thought to herself somewhat ruefully.

Her eyes roamed the crowd, looking at all of the surprised faces and people turning to their friends to confirm that the fight had really happened and it wasn't all some illusion or wild dream. She continued scanning the crowd until she froze, finding a pair of piercing blue eyes staring straight back at her. She couldn't look away; it was like the clear blue eyes had some kind of hold on her. After a few seconds she realized that the eyes belonged to a woman with long blonde hair and smooth, pale skin. She's gorgeous. What is a girl so beautiful doing here in this grungy arena, watching the preliminary rounds to a fighting tournament?

Her musings were cut short by the announcer ushering her off of the stage and towards the registration desk where her information would be taken for the real tournament. Santana turned around, hoping to get one last look at the blue-eyed beauty, but the girl was lost in the sea of people.

Thanks guys! Please feel free to leave your comments/reviews. Constructive criticism is always welcome.