It had been all the wake up call she needed. Being so completely assaulted by an unarmed perp was not on the list of shit Gail wanted to repeat in her life. The guy had dropped her so easily and dominated her so totally once she had hit the ground. She didn't land a single blow. She never even got close. If Ollie hadn't caught up with them, Gail really didn't know how it would have turned out.

So here she was in this mat covered room. It was the second week she had been coming, her sixth time overall. After being so brazenly overpowered, she was invested to say the least. It was actually only because the instructors made her take two days off since she started training that this wasn't her 8th visit. Although Gail hated physical work, hated exercise, something about this, about mixed martial arts, didn't suck. Perhaps her thorough beating had knocked something loose in her - something like motivation.

It was a few minutes before class. Gail was sitting against the wall watching the usual characters collect. Most of them were young, all of them men. Some of them were reserved and intent. Most of them were loud and cocky. Gail had the feeling most of them were here with dreams of grandeur, delusions of being pro fighters and the like. She hadn't actually trained with any of them. First of all, she was the newest of the beginners. Second, they didn't want to, partly for the first reason and mostly because she was a woman. Rule number one of Tough Guy Club was apparently 'No girls'. Maybe if she were an accomplished fighter they would have let her in, but she had her doubts.

As she started putting her gloves on, a body slid down the wall and took a seat next to her. This had happened a few times the first week. In all cases it was someone from the class dropping some cheesy MMA pick up line involving the phrases like "full mount" or "rear naked choke". On the plus side, at least he said the choke was optional. What a gentleman.

"Listen dude. I don't want to cup your cup."

"Thank God because I left it at home with my dick."

A bright, lopsided smile was the first thing Gail saw when she turned toward the non-male voice.

"You're not a dude."

"Neither are you."

The woman clearly had some bite. And it seemed that her wit and smile weren't the only attractive things about her.

This smiling stranger had long, black hair french braided tightly to her head, fully revealing a face that was thin but soft with high, happy cheeks. She had big, rich milk chocolately brown eyes appointed with well groomed, softly arched eyebrows. Her lips were full even when stretched to accommodate her wide friendly smile, now wide enough to reveal well formed, even, bright teeth. This woman took care of herself. Gail assumed she was a professional, executive level perhaps. Hints of the days make-up remained, although unnecessary on a face that possessed such natural beauty.

"I figure we'll be paired up at some point today so I wanted to introduce myself before we get violently snuggly on the mats. I'm Holly. Stewart."

"Gail."

Gail shook Holly's outstretched hand.

Holly was wearing short spandex out of which extended the longest legs Gail had ever noticed. On top, a tight rash guard hugging a lean torso: muscled shoulders, flat stomach, and breasts. Gail tried not to let her eyes linger, but she would admit, Holly had them. Breasts. She also had skin, just a vast expanse of tan skin. Sitting right next to her made Gail look bleached in contrast. Holly was tanned, toned, lean and probably not mean. But Holly probably was tough. She had this kind of grace to her. Not like a model where the grace is rehearsed. She had a grace that came from power and coordination. Holly was an athlete. A beautiful athlete. With breasts.

"Are you new to MMA?" Gail asked, figuring that the answer was going to be no.

"Nope, just to the area. You?"

"Second week."

Holly's smile was encouraging. She didn't seem concerned that Gail's lack of experience might hold her back it they were, indeed, partners. Holly just looked . . . friendly. As Gail gave a small smile in return, she felt her normally icy insides get a bit warm and fuzzy.

Confidence, Gail thought. That must be what confidence feels like, like she swallowed a flaming teddy bear. Totally. Confidence.

Gail watched Holly's line of sight shift towards the door where the two coaches had just appeared. On a dime, Gail felt herself change. Cold determination extinguished warm, fuzzy confidence as the appearance of the men who would teach her how not to be a victim triggered flashes of her victimization. As difficult as those memories were for her, Gail needed them. They brought her here, kept her here, made her work harder. They were her fire.

Gail felt a hand on her arm.

"Gail, are you okay? It's time to warm up."

"Right. Sorry. I just remembered something I . . . have to do."

Holly looked doubtful, but generously let it lie.

"Well, chop, chop then. You are going to need all the warm up you can get lest I shall destroy ye hastily."

Gail took Holly's proffered hand and let herself be pulled up by the lanky brunette.

"You can't possibly destroy me as much as the words you just said destroyed whatever coolness you had conned me into believing you had. You totally just out nerded your fake cool."

"I guarantee you that it won't be the nerd you see when I've got you pinned to the mat."

Holly winked and then walked away. Coolly.

"Game time," Gail told herself as she found a space on the mat, forcing out the little hint of warm, fuzzy confidence Holly's wink had reintroduced.