Rose POV
"Fine. C'mon then." I motioned to Art to follow me, and set off towards the gym. Dimitri fell into step beside me, his long legs easily keeping pace with my much shorter ones.
"So, Comrade," I turned to smile at him, "you ready for this?"
He grinned back at me, twining his fingers with mine. "Always, my Roza."
"You know," I continued conversationally a moment later, "I'm gonna kick your ass this time."
"In your dreams, Roza." His smile widened.
"Hmph." I would have said more, but I was distracted by Kirova hailing Alberta, who was among those trailing after us. I strained my ears, trying to catch some of their whispered conversation.
Dimitri raised an eyebrow at me. "What are you doing?" he asked, puzzled, probably alerted by my sudden quiet.
"Trying to figure out what Kirova wants," I huffed, "but she's talking too quietly for me to hear."
"I suspect that's intentional." Dimitri said drily.
"No duh, Comrade. Which is why I'm so interested." I gave up on eavesdropping and tried a new tactic.
"Hey, Kirova!" I exclaimed, jogging up to her, "What's up?"
She shrugged. "I was bored. You haven't been sent to my office in weeks – I had to come and make sure you were still alive."
I gaped at her, and she grinned, showing her fangs. Her expression was unlike anything I'd seen on her face before. I recognized it, though. It was one I often saw when I looked in the mirror. Damn. One-upped by Kirova herself. I stalked back to Dimitri's side, muttering under my breath about how headmistresses shouldn't be allowed to use sarcasm.
Dimitri laced his fingers though mine again, and pointedly didn't comment – although I noticed that the corners of his mouth seemed to be curling up despite his attempts to stop them.
I sighed. "Oh, go ahead and say it, Comrade. It's written all over your face."
He studied my expression, considering, then let the smile escape. "I told you so."
I smacked his arm, and his eyes widened in shock and hurt.
Now it was my turn to laugh at him. "I told you to say it, Comrade. I didn't say anything about not getting you back for it."
"Rose logic." he huffed, affronted.
I just laughed harder. "Race you to the gym?" I offered.
"You're on."
"Prepare to lose, Comrade!" I crowed. And I was off. His startled protest echoed behind me, and I laughed as I ran. Then I sensed him gaining on me – damn his ridiculously long legs – and I pushed myself to run faster.
We hit the gym doors at the same time, then collapsed on the ground in a tangle of limbs, laughing and gasping for breath as we waited for the others to catch up. By the time they arrived, shaking their heads at our antics, we had – mostly - recovered.
We trooped into the gym, and Dimitri and I retrieved the sparring mats. We got into position, and I put on my most intimidating badass expression.
"Ready Comrade?"
He smiled ferociously. "Bring it, Roza."
And we began to circle one another, looking for an opening. He lunged forwards, aiming a punch to my chest that I deflected easily. I faked a roundhouse kick, then tried to sweep his legs out from under him. He leapt over my kick at the last second, spinning around to aim a roundhouse kick of his own at me – which I dodged easily.
And so it went. We picked up the pace, kicks and punches flying faster than I could keep track of them, and still neither of us had landed a hit. And, as always, the world fell away. I forgot the roomful of spectators – one of which was the legendary, and surprisingly down-to-earth, Art Shoenberg – and all of the shocking events of the past few days. There was only me, and the love of my life, bodies moving in synch as we found the rhythm of our deadly dance.
