jottings: posting this way faster than expected, aww yes.
maps
wait; they don't love you like i love you.
;;
five times Finn should've taken his own advice
(and one time he's glad he didn't).
;;
[two.]
"Close your eyes," Finn instructs.
Holley gives a skeptical side-eye, but complies nonetheless. "Alright."
"Listen to my voice," he says, beginning to circle her slowly. "Listen to my footsteps. Try to follow exactly where I am."
She nods, ears straining for a sense of direction.
Right now, Finn and Holley, they're alone in the training room at Headquarters. It's one of those special hand-to-hand combat sessions that Holley, as a technical agent, had never been required to undergo. Until, that is, she was quite literally thrown into the field.
"Remember, Miss Shiftwell, I could attack you at any moment."
He's in front of her. She's positive of it. So positive, in fact, that she lunges forward, eyes still screwed shut. But instead of Finn's body, she's met with nothing but empty space. She stumbles blindly. An arm snags her by the waist and pulls her backwards, temporarily knocking the wind from her lungs.
Her back slams into Finn's chest, his arms trapping her there. "And always watch your back." His voice is barely above a whisper, and his lips brush against her ear as he speaks. She shivers involuntarily.
Holley arches her back against him, praying he'll get the message that she's more than willing to forgo this training session for one of a different, much more profitable kind. Finn hesitates, almost as though he's taking her idea into consideration. But then his arms are gone and she's blindly groping once more.
Instead, he says "You can open your eyes."
When she does, she has to blink several times before her vision adjusts properly. "What now?"
Still looming behind her, he tells her simply, "Counter-attack."
Before she can question it, he seizes her from behind yet again. This time she's expecting it. Her arms are pinned to her sides, but she wriggles in his grasp until it loosens. She jerks an elbow backwards, connecting harshly with his solar plexus. His grip falters and Holley takes the opportunity to slither out of it.
"You have the upper hand," he informs, rubbing the forming bruise beneath his diaphragm. "What will you do?"
Lips parted, brow furrowed in concentration, she tries to discern the best course of action.
"Remember that your opponent will most likely be bigger than you," Finn coaches, dodging the first kick aimed in his direction. He catches her foot with one hand, twisting her leg. Holley emits a squeak of surprise and lands on her back. "Try to use that to your advantage."
A look of annoyance gracing her features, she blows a wisp of hair from her eyes and pushes herself up. Finn opens his mouth to speak, but he's cut off by a blow to the shins. It's followed closely by a kick in the stomach that knocks him off balance and lands him on the floor mats.
"You have the right to remain silent," Holley quips, nailing him in the head with her very best two-fingered revolver. She stands over his downed body, one foot on either side of his waist.
He blinks up at her, impressed. "I must say, Miss Shiftwell, I wasn't expecting that last bit from you."
"Why, thank you, sir." Smiling, she offers him a hand.
Finn takes it gratefully, and then aims a swift kick at the backs of her knees. The impact makes her knees buckle. He yanks down on their joined hands and she crashes onto him. He fluidly flips their bodies, leaving him with the ascendancy.
He shifts his weight forward to lessen the pressure on her. Holley stares incredulously. "Most importantly," he says, smiling suavely. "Don't get cocky."
Holley catches him completely off guard when her leg comes around in a perfect roundhouse and collides with his shoulder. It displaces his weight enough for her to swap positions once more and scramble to the top.
She pins his arms over his head, and to add insult to injury, she pulls a set of handcuffs from her back pocket. She smirks the entire time she's leaning down to fasten the cuffs around his wrists.
Reluctantly, Finn must admit he's impressed. But his ego is wounded more than anything, for it's simply not acceptable to have one's ass handed to one by their protégé-cum-partner. This isn't exactly a tale he'll be spreading around in the near-future.
Holley sits back, straddling his waist, and admires the image before her. Finn can't help but notice the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the slip-knot way locks of hair are falling from her ponytail and the strap of her wife-beater is sliding off her shoulder, and not to mention she's straddling his waist.
"You can undo the handcuffs now, Holley." The glint in Holley's eyes is just devious. He swallows, his throat suddenly dry.
The smirk currently glued to her lips grows deeper. She cocks her head and arches an eyebrow. "I think these could be fun, don't you, Finn?"