Disclaimer– I do not own the characters, etc. I am only borrowing them from Janet. This is not for profit, just for kicks.
Das & XY's Wisdom Challenge – BabeSquad Jan. 2010
Acquired Wisdom
by PinPin
I rounded the corner and screamed. Stumbling backwards, I tried my best to dive out of the way. I almost made it too. But the Rangemen are faster. They're always faster.
Tank's arm struck out and he captured both of my wrists in one of his meaty hands, pulling them first above my head and then behind it, my elbows jutting up and out at awkward angles. His other arm wrapped around my waist and lifted. My legs dangled in the air. I kicked and kicked, but to no avail. No matter how I struggled, I just hung there in his arms like the world's most uncooperative sack of potatoes. We were chest to back and his warm breath ghosted across my shoulder and fueled my ire.
"Ability is what you're capable of doing." I couldn't see it for myself, but I knew the bastard was smiling. He always enjoyed my frustration. It was actually a little creepy if you thought about it too much.
"My abilities are what we're supposed to be working on here! Not the alignment of my spine! Put me down!"
"Get yourself down."
You catch more flies with honey, but Tank wasn't a fly and he was getting on my last nerve. "You're a prick."
These 'practice' sessions were originally planned to improve my skills, not give me a stroke. I wanted to be able to be prepared for a future psycho-blitz attack, but these guys were just too damn good at it. I'm sure that at this point I could handle a regular, fat, old stalker if he tried to ambush me. Handling an ambush from Tank was something else entirely.
"Motivation determines what you do. It can't teach you how." Tank loosened his grip on my wrists and lowered me until my toes grazed the floor. I don't know what his motivation was, but I know that mine was revenge, and as soon as there was enough distance between the two of us, he was going to regret that last remark. I was ready to motivate the shit out of him.
I tossed my hair over my shoulder right into his face and tried to stand up straight. The effort always fell short around Tank. He was inhumanly tall. It made dignity hard to come by in his presence, especially since one of his arms was still slung solidly around my hips holding me in place. "I get it Yoda. I'm only free because you've decided to free me." Sometimes I hated him. He loosened his grip enough to let me stand under my own power and when I finally turned to get a look at his face I had the strangest urge to punch it. In the end, though, all I did was glare.
"Attitude determines how well you do it." Oh, fantastic. I guess we were still having lessons. If that's the way he wanted it, then I'd play his game. I was getting ready to teach him something that he wouldn't soon forget.
I leaned into him and took a very deep, very long breath. My chest swelled and I took ample advantage of the new, tighter shirts that Ella had been giving me lately. I pressed myself against the hard chest that he'd used to help immobilize me only moments ago and looked up at him through calculatedly hooded lashes. "You shouldn't sneak up on me like that anymore. It's enough to make a girl's head spin." I closed my eyes and hummed softly, a small smile playing on my lips.
I actually heard him swallow.
"So…" I opened my eyes. He was nervous. And suddenly very tense. "How are my abilities? Do you think I might need some more," I shifted against him, "motivation?"
All he did was clear his throat. Most likely, there were a thousand things he wanted to say to me, but none of them made their way far enough forward in his mind to be vocalized.
I, on the other hand, am rarely at a loss for words. "You need an attitude adjustment, Big Guy," I laughed lightly. Long before I'd ever met the Rangemen, I learned that there is more than one way to conquer a man.
He didn't object as I removed myself from his personal space and headed off to report for my shift. I should have been at my post five minutes ago. As I exited the corridor, leaving Tank alone to deal with the ramifications of his sneak attack, I heard him finally recover a few of his senses. "You don't play fair."
(764 words)
A/N: This is a one-shot, written in response to a group challenge at Y!BabeSquad. It was my first submitted challenge response. Thank you for reading.