I haven't updated this in a while, so I figured I'd be nice and post. But don't get too excited, it's only an interlude, so it's quite short and has nothing to do with the story (well, not with progressing the story.) It's just something I thought of and wrote on a whim.

Also, I'm ignoring the fact that my finals are less than a week away. Oh! But good news, I got accepted into my next college (with a bitchin' scholarship!). I'm so excited, so I'm celebrating with updating!

Enjoy the interlude-flashbacky goodness!


(Four and a half months earlier)

"Ok, make a fist," he murmured, standing behind her. She closed her fingers, and he let out a soft laugh. "No, not over your thumb," he gripped her hand, opening her fingers slightly so she could pull her thumb out, then pressing them shut again. "If you punch someone like that, you'll break it."

"Yeah, that makes sense," she frowned at her hand, and he assumed it was because she wasn't used to seeing it in a fist. He hoped she never had to use this, because he was all too familiar with using his fists. But she'd asked, because she wanted to learn how to defend herself, and he'd agreed willingly. She'd told him it would be nice to spend some 'friend time' together. He was looking forward to the time spent being near her. And he was taking every opportunity he could find to touch her.

"Ok, now spread your feet apart," he put his hands on her hips to help her move, and resisted the urge to say 'spread your legs apart'. Jesus, his brain was completely in the gutter. She followed his direction, and he reluctantly let go of her and moved her to the side. When she was out of the way, he threw a punch at the bag hanging from the ceiling of the pool house, making it jerk violently on its chain. He'd had the thing installed after he got back from Chino. Turns out, sexual frustration made him incredibly angry, and punching things always helped. Back when he and Taylor had been in Chino, he used to go down to the gym all the time. He stepped off to the side, motioning for her to do it.

"Ok," she sucked in a deep breath before taking his place. She shot him one unsure look before trying to recreate his swing. He choked on a laugh, and she huffed at him.

"Taylor, that was so bad…" he put out his hand to still the punching bag, and she pouted.

"Well excuse me," she folded her arms, glaring as he continued to laugh. "It's not my fault I didn't grow up bruising people all the time."

"I didn't 'bruise people' all the time," he protested. "Here," he took her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Maybe if you had something better to aim at." She looked at him in confusion, and he pointed to himself, "hit me."

"I can't hit you!" her eyes went wide.

"Don't worry," he shrugged. "It's just for aiming purposes. You won't actually hit me."

"And why is that?"

"Because I also learned how to avoid getting bruised." She narrowed her eyes at him, looking annoyed.

"You don't think I can hit you."

"Taylor, no offense, but you could barely hit a stationary object."

She slid her feet apart, looking pissed off now. "Fine. Asshole." He grinned as she balled her hands; she flicked one angry look up at him and cocked her arm.

He caught her fist easily, grinning when she huffed angrily. Her other hand swung towards him, and he caught that one too. "Nice try, Townsend," he teased, holding her hands hostage. She struggled against him, trying to free herself, quite unsuccessfully.

"Let go of me you jerk," she hissed, and he laughed. Watching her struggle was quite entertaining, especially the way her body twisted.

"Oh, Townsend," he sighed, walking her backwards until her back hit the pool house door. "You threw a sneak punch in there. That's cheating," he shook his head at her, like she was a petulant child. Of course, the way she was pouting and fighting against him didn't help the whole child analogy…

"It's cause you were being a stupid jerk-face," she muttered, and he snorted at her phrasing. She shut up, glaring up at him as he pressed her to the glass… her eyes went wide, all the anger draining from her as he felt the familiar thrill of feeling her body against his. "Ryan…"

"Sorry," he grunted, letting go of her hands and stepping back – stepping away from her warm little body. The room was tense and awkward now, and she stumbled over to where her purse sat on the counter, grabbing it and making some excuse to leave.


Another note: I changed the rating of this fic. When I originally started it, I rated it M, because all the other Chino-verse stories were (excluding the interlude-fic 'Saints'). And I didn't think about it till just now, that there's absolutely no reason for it to be M. So it's changed to a T (strong T, cause of all the bad language and almost-smut…).

Review!