A/N: For HopeRai Week 2015. Prompt: Hand-to-Hand Combat

Obligatory Disclaimer: I don't own any part of FFXIII.

Summary: Lightning has been teaching Hope some hand-to-hand combat techniques. They agree to a sparring match. Hope wins after trying something new. Light calls shenanigans.

Is The Impossible Possible?

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Hope?" Lightning looks over her shoulder at her taller companion. She's still annoyed at this change in principal; she doesn't look too deeply at why an adult Hope is also a good thing in her book.

"Yes, Light." Hope gives her a sloppily jaunty salute. Her eyes narrow at him in warning. A wide smirk stretches across his face answering her challenge. Before the match starts in the hall, he points at the door to the men's locker room. "I'll, uh, just get changed and meet you there. Shall I?" He pushes the door open.

Lightning nods. Just before the door closes behind him, she says, "Don't forget your cup." The low chuckle accompanying her statement has a dangerous edge to it. Her words and tone have the desired effect - a nervous "Right" muttered by her partner and protégé. A smile identical to Lumina's at her most mischievous appears on the ex-savior's lips and reflects in her eyes.

Five minutes later, Hope and Light face off in an empty exercise room. The others wanted to watch, but the two combatants didn't want to deal with the peanut gallery's commentary. Especially Snow's and Fang's. Lightning begins by stating the win conditions for their match. "All right. Win conditions are being pinned for three seconds, not being able to stand up for five seconds, and stepping off the mat at all. Agreed?"

Hope nods, "Agreed."

Formalities out of the way, Lightning shakes her head in disgust at Hope's attire. He's dressed in loose athletic pants, a t-shirt, protective headgear, gloves, and sneakers; his hair is untamed. In contrast she is dressed in a close-fitting tank top and shorts very similar to her old Guardian Corps uniform, sneakers, protective head gear, and gloves; her hair is braided tightly to her head and pinned in place.

Patent disapproval colors every word. "Hope! We agreed this would be a full contact match..."

"Yeah. And?" Hope looks at her calmly. "That's why I'm wearing a cup, right?" He smiles broadly at his friend's blush. Evoking a darker shade of crimson, he continues in a too-innocent tone. "Thanks for reminding me, by the way. I'd hate to lose my chance at kids..."

"Hope!" Why am I blushing like an imbecile? She forces the color down. "Don't blame me if your hair blinds you or if something happens with your pants."

"This is a friendly spar, Light." The sparkle in his eyes contrasts sharply with his unaffected tone. "What could possibly happen to my pants?" At the resurgent blush, Hope allows his smile to return. "Should I be concerned?"

Having had enough of his lip, Lightning throws the first punch. Hope's quick reflexes save him from a nasty head shot. Guess I pushed a little too far. He tries a straight jab which she dodges easily. With the preliminaries out of the way, they settle into the match.

Twenty minutes pass as Lightning lets Hope set the pace. She wants to see how far he's progressed; because of his thin build they've focused on agility for offense and defense. She's not too worried about losing because her technique and endurance are still superior to his. This is the most fun I've had in weeks.

Hope notices she's a little distracted. Of course, I'm a little distracted. That half smile and bright eyes... Yeah. I'm a goner. Lightning lands a straight kick into his diaphragm. "Oof! Damn, Light." He recovers from his stumble.

"Full contact, Hope." She quirks an eyebrow while her eyes widen then narrow quickly.

She's up to something. Hope brushes his bangs aside as he refocuses on his opponent.

That momentary distraction is all she needs. Lightning spins quickly then snaps her hand up and out. The resulting backhand is followed by a left jab, right hook, and a back flip out of retaliatory range. She sticks the landing and smirks in his direction as he shakes the stars out of his eyes. Not bad. He's not down.

"Be glad I didn't hit you as hard as I hit Snow."

"Pfft. Yeah. Small mercies there, Teach." Hope approaches her faster than she expected forcing her to retreat a couple of steps. Two quick jabs drive her farther back. She preps and delivers a roundhouse kick aimed for his chest.

To her utter consternation, Hope grabs her ankle and uses her trajectory to nimbly avoid the hit by spinning around her foot and up her leg. "Wha-?!" I didn't teach him that!

Hope, smile downright evil, ducks low and sweeps Lightning's feet out from under her while she's recovering. He follows her down to keep her from rolling with the impact and back to her feet.

"Gotcha!" He swoops in to press a kiss to her lips. She freezes in shock, eyes going wide. He separates from her a bit and stares at her with trepidation.

The agreed upon three count for a pin ticks by. Another five seconds go by.

Hope pulls reluctantly away and stands up. This snaps Lightning out of her daze. He extends his hand to help her stand. Her eyes flicker between his eyes and his hand. She finally reaches out to accept his help.

"So, uh..." Hope pauses unsure of where to go from here. "I guess I, uh, pinned you. I win the match, right?" She hasn't hit me for real or stormed off yet. I guess that's a good thing?

"What?" As a soldier, Lightning lost plenty of spars, especially in her early days. Never has she completely spaced on her surroundings. Then again, she's never had a spar end quite like this. Her thoughts sluggishly catch up.

"I win. Right?" Hope smiles hoping to shift the uncomfortable atmosphere to something a little more bearable.

Lightning strips the gloves from her hands. "How can you call that a win?"

"Well. I did pin you. That was a win condition."

"You..." A flush spreads into her cheeks. "You cheated."

"I did not."

"Did so!"

"How?" His expression dares her to say it, to admit he kissed her and is still standing.

"Hope!" Lightning breathes deeply to calm her nerves. She picks up his gauntlet. "A kiss is not how you win a spar."

"You reminded me it was a full contact match." Hope grins disarmingly. "A kiss qualifies as physical contact."

Light stares at him flabbergasted. Then she shakes it off. "You still cheated."

"Ok. Maybe a little." They leave the exercise room and walk toward the locker rooms. Before she can enter the women's changing room, he says, "So. Shall we call it a draw then?"

A conflicted expression settles on her face. "I'll think about it." With a half shrug at him, she saunters through the door.

Hope realizes she didn't clarify which point she'd think about. "Wait! What? Light!" He steps toward the women's door before a staff member approaches and looks at him with a disapproving stare. He steps into the men's changing room. Damn! Now I'm tied in knots.

Driving to Drop Lightning Off at Home

"Why did you pull a move like that?" Genuinely curious, Lightning glances at him to gauge his reaction.

A soft smile appears as he watches the traffic. Reaching out to twine his fingers with hers, his not-so-simple answer floors her. "I wanted to see if the impossible was possible."

He pulls to a stop at a red light. Turning his head to face her fully, he asks, "What do you think, Light? Is it?"

Lightning stares at their interconnected hands, his so much larger than when he was fourteen. Lifting her gaze to his, she pushes her apprehension aside. We'll deal with that together. She pokes his forehead drawing a laugh from her partner. Like we do everything else. The light turns green forcing Hope to shift his attention back to the road.

"Yeah. I think it is." Faking disgruntlement, she continues, "But if you ever cheat like that again, Mr. Hope Estheim..."

Hope squeezed her hand. "Right! Got it."