Disclaimer: I still don't own any familiar characters or events. The only ones that belong to me are Beryl and Rowan specifically, as well as any of those who are not recognized/who are not on the show.
At twelve noon Rowan found herself haphazardly shoving her belongings back into her bag as the six hour lecture broke for an hour long lunch break. Near sprinting out the door she narrowly avoided colliding with someone moving through the halls.
"Agent Danvers, it is nice to see you still show the same…enthusiasm…for your education now as you did the first time you were here," sounded the polished voice of Special Agent Miranda Shaw who had once taught Rowan in a room just a few doors down.
"Nice to see you again, ma'am," Rowan blushed, stepping out of the way and hitching her bag once more. If there was one person who could make her feel like a troublesome second grader facing the principal it was Miranda Shaw.
"I take it you are now on your hour?"
Rowan mumbled a "yes ma'am" once more.
Not a single hair moved out of place as Agent Shaw gave a nod. "Good. Would you like to take some time to come into the sparring room and show the N.A.T's how it is done?"
A smile split lightly tanned features. "If you have an extra seat of sweats I would be more than happy to do so, ma'am." Falling into step beside the petite yet imposing figure in a well cut skirt suit, Rowan found herself travelling memory lane as she entered the training gym a few minutes later, her belongings stored in a borrowed locker and a pair of 'FBI' sweats hanging loosely on her hips while revealing a strip of toned tummy flesh. Her bare feet made no sound as she moved onto the edge of the mats and surveyed the pairs sparring in five foot increments.
Agent Shaw whistled sharply, drawing everyone's attention to where she stood beside Rowan who was neatly plaiting her hair out of her face.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to visiting agent Rowan Danvers who has graciously given up her time today to show you what you are doing wrong. I want you to listen to her, there is a reason her name has not been bumped from the top bracket since she graduated the academy." her tone was firm as she addressed the crowd, her eyes hawk-like as they swept over the pairs. "Parrish, Booth…I want you to face off with Agent Danvers first."
Not bothering to hide the predatory delight in her smirk as the two smirked, Rowan had every plan to use the weaknesses she knew that Ryan Booth had to her advantage. Greeting her 'opponents' she opted to take N.A.T Parrish first, motioning with a hand to a mat that two of the gym's trainers brought forth. Crouching into a starting position across from the dark skinned woman, Rowan waited until she was given the okay to start.
She would most certainly admit that Alex Parrish had potential, she noted as she ducked and circled in observation. The woman's moves were fluid and were not lacking power by any means but after a sequence or two their variation began to lack. Striking out with a right hook while ducking out of the way of a left cross Rowan caught Parrish on the jaw with a harnessed tap. Dancing back on the balls of her feet she went low and came up with a foot sweeping out to knock Parrish on her backside, her left knee coming down on the other woman's ribs as she caught her balance after a particularly dirty attempt at dragging her down. Leaning her weight onto her left knee it took a matter of seconds for her to wrench one of Alex's arms away from her personal space and use it to pin the woman to the mat Barely out of breath Rowan released Alex and stepped back when someone blew a whistle signaling the end of the match.
"Forty two seconds," crowed Agent Shaw as she motioned to the red head.
Offering Alex a hand, Rowan clasped a slightly calloused palm and yanked the smaller woman to her feet. "Good job," she said softly. "Just work on mixing up your sequences, and don't be afraid to fight dirty," she added with a wink.
Alex looked like she gave it serious thought and muttered a thanks as she stepped back into the group.
"Now Danvers and Parrish were about evenly matched but Booth certainly has the size advantage in this situation. No matter what the match up though, take in everything you can about your opponent. Before you two get to it, Danvers, a sitrep on your opponent," barked Agent Shaw.
Ryan's statistics came to the forefront of her mind as if they were her own measurements. "Six-foot-three-inches. About a buck ninety to two hundred of mostly muscle, although it looks like Booth here could lay off the burgers in the dining hall. He seems to be fond of deflecting fists with his face…his nose his been broken at least once." Oh she was so going to pay for that one later.
"Good, and Booth?"
"I'd say about five-four to five-five," he knew she was 5'6" and touchy about her height. "Maybe a buck fifty." He was really getting into this, if his smirk was anything to go by. "If her fight with Parrish was any sign, she was taught well and knows when to fight dirty but also shows signs of formal training. But even those with formal training have weaknesses." And unfortunately he knew all of hers.
"Good. To the mats…." They both got into grappling position. "And go!"
Rowan Danvers and Ryan Booth were evenly matched, one of the initial reasons that their Special Agent in Charge had paired them together three and a half years ago. Ryan was known to throw his weight around, trying to plow through her while simultaneously flipping her on her ass with an arm around her abdomen. Rowan was using his own momentum against him, reversing their position so that she was practically climbing his tall, lean frame like a tree. Whereas her fight with Alex Parrish had been mostly fists and feet, finesse and flexibility, her fights with Ryan were always about pure strength and staying one step ahead. Both had grown up play wrestling with their siblings and often turned to those tactics when together. Throwing an elbow in the direction of Ryan's head as she scrambled to her feet, Rowan swore when he grabbed her by the right leg in the heat of the moment, tugging a few inches below the knee whose meniscus she had torn a few years before. Her reflexes kicking in as he continued to try and tug her back to the ground while trying to get to his feet, Rowan allowed her body to become dead weight and land on top of him once he tugged once more.
"How's that for a buck fifty?" she panted as she straddled his hips. Squeezing her thighs around him she re-situated her legs as she rolled onto her back and forced him up and off her with a well-practiced move.
It took precious seconds for Ryan to regain his footing and in those seconds Rowan was back on him, sweeping his feet from beneath him in a move her oldest brother had taught her in middle school. Sending him sprawling onto his feet she nearly had him pinned when a large palm nestled itself into the dip of her waist and drew her close, his body weight changing their position so he was holding her down by the waist.
Hoping the flush to her face could be attributed to the work out and not the fact that she was beginning to be turned on by the sheer display of power that was only fueling the *slight* crush she'd had on her partner for the last year, Rowan did the one thing she could think of…her left hand darted up and nimble fingers took grasp of the material of Ryan's tee shirt and the nipple beneath the gray fabric. Twisting her hand to give him a purple nurple she used his shock to wiggle out from beneath him, ignoring the brush of their bodies as she leap frogged over him and pushed him flat down, sitting on his back to keep him down. Her lungs burned in an effort to gather oxygen but she still couldn't help the throaty chuckle she gave as people whistled and clapped, followed by a squeak of surprise as the body beneath her surged into a semi upright position which caused her to slide right off and to nearly eat mat. Helping one another to their feet they stood identically, chests heaving as their hands went to their own waists.
"Nicely done you two…and Danvers, what have I said in the past about using gestures like 'purple nurples,' ass pinches, and detention ear pulls?" Agent Shaw said after the clapping had died down.
"That they have no place in the academy or the field unless someone does it to you first," Rowan grinned cheekily. "Does his thumbs coming suspiciously close to my boobs count as Booth starting it?"
Ryan turned to her in protest, mouth open and eyes wide. "I did not touch your boobs!"
"But you wa…"
"Agent Danvers! I do believe it is time for you to go back to the lectures!" Agent Shaw exclaimed.
"Do I have to? Can't I stay to train the newbs? I'm only there because the AIC needed a break from me."
Ignoring someone attempting to whisper 'I wonder why?' behind her, Rowan blinked innocently.
"I saw the attendance request filled out by Agent Hamden, Agent Danvers, and I do not blame him for wanting a 'break' from you. In the past month and a half you have gone through five partners…you made one cry and want to resign after one hour with you. You tied one's shoe laces together mere minutes before a scheduled fire drill that someone tipped you off about. You nearly ran one over while in pursuit of a suspect. You jumped off a roof while pursuing another and had your third partner convinced that you had fallen to your death until you popped up with the suspect in custody. And lastly you threatened to unload a clip into the most recent after an altercation!"
"He grabbed my ass, of course I threatened to unload my clip into him! The one that cried was a wuss…I mean seriously, has he never heard of Rhino Rockets or played rugby? The nose gets bloody, and you just shove one of those suckers on up there! The shoe laces was because he kept making comments about my rack. And the one who thought I died had no faith when I told him that I could stick the landing." Agent Shaw made a comment about them being five stories off the ground as Rowan caught her breath. "And I'm sorry about nearly running the other over but I am used to a certain level of professionalism in a partner; if you are not going to Bo Duke it over the hood when I steal the keys and say we are in pursuit then you shouldn't be partnered with me."
"Agent Danvers, the request also came with a plea asking whether there was going to be something stronger than Kevlar soon and whether we wanted to keep you."
Everyone in the immediate vicinity watched with a mix of sympathy and rapt amusement, eyes bouncing as if watching a tennis match. Ryan's eyes widened with every passing word, right hand twitching at times as if he were reaching for his service weapon.
"Is there even someone crazy enough to be your partner or do you work with some sort of Robocop?" someone asked from the back of the crowd and Rowan spun on them.
"I have the best damn partner in the bureau and I want to you to remember this you little snot bag…. A real partner will always have your six, in and out of the field. They will know the moves you are going to make before you even know you are going to make them. When you have bullets get past the Kevlar of your vest, they will ignore their own injuries in favor of making sure that that bullet will not be the one that does you in. Coated in blood and God knows what else they will do their damndest to make sure that, no matter how long that damned bus is taking, you make it to the hospital. A real partner is the one who wears themselves down doing CPR continuously no matter how many times your heart stops. And a real partner is the one who makes sure that a mission for justice doesn't end up a mission to the morgue or IAB's office. And listen to me here- a real partner is neither male nor female, black, Asian, white, whatever. They are an extension of yourself, your weapon, and your sanity. For me my partner is my rock, and my reason for making sure that I don't 'accidentally' put a bullet between the eyes of a serial rapist. My partner is one of the best agents and best people I know, whether he believes so or not which, let me tell you he is one humble bastard. So yeah, maybe he is crazy for waking up and putting his life in my hands on a daily basis, but that kind of crazy is one in a billion and worth way more than any sad sacked, cocksure, frat boy agent who only wants the job for a God complex, the badge to pick up women, and the gun as a treatment for his little dick syndrome." Her rant had her blood boiling and her cheeks flushing, warm hands holding her back when she began to make her way towards the baby faced blonde who barely looked like he could fight for the last slice of pizza let alone fight for his life.
Her words hung in the air as people watched her silently, seemingly absorbing her words.
"Agent Danvers, if I let you go you're not going to rip out his jugular are you?" Ryan questioned from over her shoulder, the breath on the back of her neck calming her down quicker than any sedative or bucket of water.
"I'm good, Booth. Your classmate is safe." Stepping away from the heat of his body once she was released Rowan gave him a nod and turned to Agent Shaw who merely raised an eyebrow.
"I do not know whether I should send you back to the lecture or send you back to Chicago, Agent Danvers," Agent Shaw said evenly.
"Both Chicago and Quantico are lovely this time of year, ma'am, and my return ticket has a flexible return date."
Shaw made a sound in the back of her throat. "I think this is enough excitement for the day. Everyone hit the showers and move onto your next class. Agent Danvers, my office please, once you are through."
Joining the chorus of 'yes ma'am' like when she was a NAT herself, Rowan fell in as the group made for the locker rooms. Gathering her belongings she merely rinsed the sweat from her body before putting on the dark washed skinny jeans and blazer she had worn into the gym as well as the fitted black v-neck that had replaced her coffee stained shirt. Perching on a roughhewn wooden bench she deftly laced up her black combat boots and redid the braid in her hair. Checking the round in her .38's chamber and the safety, she attached the holster to her belt and checked her phone for messages before stepping out. After asking another agent for directions to Agent Shaw's office, it took her all of five minutes to be seated in the waiting area, listening to the receptionist pop bubbles in her gum between answering phone calls. Five or six calls later the receptionist called her name.
"Agent Shaw will see you now, Agent Danvers," the perky blonde smirked while waving a hand at the door that was over her right shoulder.
