Next chapter! Just wanted to give a shout out to all the super awesome people who help support this story- Dark Magical Sorcres, InTheNameOfAsgard, tasha. pierce.7315, 28MonstersWithin, 123Books, Artful Doodler, Pairx2, Jariboe, and TeslaTiger. Love you guys!

ENJOY and reviews are severely appreciated. I also changed the title because it was really lame…

"First lesson. How to hold a pistol." Percival handed Harry the gun. Harry grasped it, feeling the weight of the weapon in his palm. "Actually, I lied. Tell me the difference between a semi-automatic and a revolver.

"Well," Harry began, thinking. "Revolvers operate with a revolving cylinder for a magazine, in which you load the ammunition and from which you must remove the empty shell casings. After each bullet is fired, the cylinder rotates to line up the next shell with the firing pin. You fire when the hammer is cocked back into firing position with the thumb. Pulling the trigger activates the firing pin, discharging the weapon. A release pin opens the cylinder and rotates it out from the barr-"

"Jesus, you're like a walking encyclopedia. Enough about the revolver."

"Yes sir. This is a semi-automatic, I think. A semi-automatic pistol automatically advances each shell into the chamber from the pre-loaded magazine, and ejects the empty shell after it has been fired. The slide on the top of the gun is used to advance the first shell into the chamber, and can be locked in the back position with a button or pin on the side. The removable magazine is removed and loaded separately."

"Hm." Percival tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I didn't know that. Anyways. I suppose if you know that much, you know how to hold it." Harry nodded nervously. They were silent for a moment. "Well? Hold it already."

"But sir, I am holding it."

"Oh." Percival scrunched up his nose. "Well, I guess I was wrong. See, if you hold the gun like that-" Percival swatted the shooting end to the side, causing Harry's index finger and wrist to bend, pushing the trigger in the process. The front end of the gun stared him in the face. There was a loud bang and Harry jumped. "-you're going to shoot yourself if someone does what I just did. Luckily, I put in a blank."

"Luckily," Harry managed weakly. Percival took out another pistol out of his belt. Harry wondered how many he kept in there on a regular basis.

"This is a .357- very high caliber. Yours," he continued, gesturing at Harry's gun, "is a .22." Percival demonstrated on his own pistol. "Keep your finger outside the trigger guard, extended straight and flat on the side of the guard. Yes, that's right. Grip it tightly, like you're giving it a handshake. You should be good at that. Now, eventually you'll be good enough to fire it with one hand, running, and at a moving target, but for now, stand still with your other hand steadying the gun." Harry did as he asked. "Perfect. Now load it. Yes, good. Safety off?" Harry nodded. "On three. Ready, aim… fire!" There was a loud bang. "Again! Ready, aim, fire!" Bang. "Once more, now. Ready, aim, fire!" Bang. "Good." Percival squinted at the target. He wiped his brow, eyes widening.

"What is it, sir?"

"You swear you've never touched a gun in your life, boy?"

"Yes sir. Only read about them."

"Well, then, I guess I'm a monkey's uncle." Percival shrugged, turning around to face Harry. "Three bull's-eyes."

Harry shook water out of his hair after taking a hot shower. His whole body was aching. The muscles in his right arm were particularly sore- but in a good way. He was proud of himself. It had been only a month since he'd arrived at the UK Kingsman HQ, but he could already, as promised by Percival, fire at a moving target with one hand while running, with any type of gun (except, of course, a rifle, which required two hands). He could throw knives, pick locks, and mix a very spectacular martini. Percival had worked him hard- endurance, strength, flexibility, you name it. Harry had studied text after text, reading about every single war and large-scale military and government scandal and every prominent figure involved in each. That is, the ones he didn't already know about. He was still tingling from the praise Percival had laid upon him when reporting to Arthur earlier that day. Arthur had hardly believed it, and had personally watched Harry practicing at the shooting range for over an hour. Afterwards, Arthur had drilled him with question after question, each of which Harry had responded to immediately and confidently. Arthur was thoroughly convinced and had instructed Percival to proceed to the next training exercise.

Harry sighed contentedly, stretching his sore muscles. He stepped out of the steamy room with only his boxers on and a towel around his shoulders. So, it was to his utter shock to find an extremely attractive girl standing outside the door, waiting for him. The two stared at each other in dead silence, her eyes flashing from his chest and back to his face briefly. She suddenly turned a light shade of pink as he ran his eyes up and down her body appraisingly.

"Uh, Mr. H-hart," she stammered. She scowled, clearing her throat. Flipping her straight, waist-length hair over her shoulder, she adjusted her stance and looked him square in the eye. "Mr. Hart," she said again, more firmly this time. He smiled a little, but she simply glared back. "Percival requests your presence. He's waiting in the hangar on level B12. And also, I suggest never leave your door open, unless of course, you want somebody placing a bomb under your pillow," she finished sweetly. With that, she turned on her heel, striding away.

"Wait!" Harry called, following her out of his room. "What's your name?" She ignored him. He kept his eyes glued to her back until she disappeared around a corner and out of sight. He raised his eyebrows. "Playing hard to get, huh?" he muttered to himself. He shook his head, the corners of his lips tilting up slightly. Harry wondered if she was an attendant. But she hadn't been wearing the standard-issue uniform… Harry decided not to dwell on it. He threw on a fresh dress-shirt, pants and tie before slipping into his old pair of Oxfords. As he left his room, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Startled, he looked again. He could barely recognize himself. Clean-shaven, smartly dressed, more muscular… and a spark in his eyes. Harry's face broke into a smile. It was almost like he was a different person. Correction, he thought to himself. He was a different person.

I HAVE INTRODUCED THE OC ermergeeeerd. She will reappear in later chapters… And yes, there will be fluff.

THANKS FOR READING, HOPE YOU LIKED IT (I certainly had a great time writing it)! Till next time.

-happynomnom