Strike Two

"I know what I want my favor to be," Lightning said one session out of the blue. They had just finished warming up and Fang was arranging her padding when Lightning had spoken."I want you to teach me."

"Uh," she started, looking to Lightning. "Teach you what?"

"Muay Thai. Not everything, but enough. Form, strikes, takedowns, that kind of thing."

"Well, I guess I could. Any reason why? I mean, you are pretty good already."

"Never hurts to know more martial arts, especially in my line of work."

"Yeah, I can see that," Fang said. "Alright then. When do you want to do this?"

"How free are you Saturday mornings?"

Fang was pleasantly surprised to hear a different day from their regular sparring. The idea of seeing Lightning multiple times a week appealed to her on several levels.

"Pretty free," she said. "Depends how early, I guess."

"Need time to recover from your Friday nights?" Lightning poked.

"Not a morning person, 's'all," Fang said with a sly smile.

"I'm sure."

"What about you? When do you have work?"

"I'm still new, most of my shifts are afternoon and night shifts."

Fang blinked. "And you want to drag yourself out of bed early to spar? That's hardcore."

"I am a morning person, I'm up anyway. Besides, you shouldn't underestimate the power of a good nap."

Fang burst out in laughter. Lightning looked affronted.

"Sorry Light, just, you're this hardcore sexy policewoman who's secret to success is napping. Not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" Lightning asked, tone dark. Fang ignored it; she had spent enough time around the other woman to know she wasn't near her annoyance-limit yet.

"I don't know," she said, still chuckling. "Iron will, I suppose."

"Sleep is important. As important as diet and exercise," Lightning said. She wasn't meeting Fang's eye. This was new- it seemed Lightning could feel embarrassment. Fang was a little pleased to know that the other woman cared about her opinion enough to be so affected, and that she was going out of her way to spend more time with Fang.

"Hey, you'll hear no argument from me. I love a good nap."

"So, Saturday morning?"

"I'm in. Gives me more time to bug you."

Lightning looked at her side-eyed. "I was worried you'd say that."

The following Saturday found Fang awake much earlier that usual. She hurried through her morning routine before making for the door. Lightning had suggested a change of scenery for their lessons, and they decided to meet at a nearby park. Blearily she made her way over, arriving only a few minutes late. Lightning was stretching when Fang walked up to her. She made a show of checking a nonexistent watch before arching an eyebrow at Fang.

"I know, just be happy I'm not actually late," Fang said, trying to cut off any ribbing.

"You are actually late," Lightning said.

"Actually as in an hour, or something."

"Should we move the time back next week?" A challenging tone from Lightning.

"No way, sunshine. I can do this. 'Sides, you're going to be doing all the work."

"Oh?"

"Naturally. Muay Thai isn't like your namby-pamby Wing Chun or Judo. There's a lot of head on blocking, not a lot of that redirect crap you're always pulling."

Lightning smirked. "Don't forget the times when you don't even hit me."

Fang snorted. "How could I? Every other punch hits air."

She continued running through the differences in style that she had noticed between them. Lightning turned attentive, taking in everything Fang said. Lightning was a professed kick-boxer, though she had mentioned and shown her skill in other martial arts as well. Kickboxing itself incorporated many aspects of Muay Thai, so Fang suspected the largest differences in their style came from those other arts.

Muay Thai as an art fit Fang very well. Attacking was about the same as most other martial arts, but defending involved a lot of direct blocking. Punches were met with a strong guard, kicks were met with hardened shins. Matches often came down to who could handle the most damage. Clinches were allowed, though mostly done standing. The gloves used in Muay Thai covered practitioner's fingers, so whole limbs and even the body itself were used to hold opponents, most commonly trapping the head with both arms or trapping an arm over the shoulder. Knees, shins, and elbows played heavily in offense along with traditional kicks and punches, giving Thai the name 'the art of the eight limbs.'

Fang liked to get close and clinch opponents, allowing her to use her knees and elbows to deal damage. She often had to absorb a lot of damage herself in so doing, but few could match her endurance, and none had been able to meet her head on and come out on top. Opponents like Lightning could give her trouble, ones who could get under or around her guard to strike. The only matches she lost- and there weren't many of those- were to people racking up points against her faster than she could take them down. She had never had an official opponent as fast as Lightning.

Looking at Lightning, Fang knew the other woman didn't have quite the build for Muay Thai. Which, she supposed, was why Lightning had studied Wing Chun instead. Chun certainly didn't have the… heaviness of Muay Thai. There was no focus on trading blows, and much more emphasis on balance, patience, and speed. It was an art that fit Lightning very well.

After running through the differences, Fang had Lightning start with basic stances. She corrected small mistakes that she noticed, but Lightning largely had them down immediately. The biggest hurdle seemed to be how narrow her stance usually was; Wing Chun used a more vertical line, where Muay Thai had a wider base.

She had the other woman run through some combinations, and Lightning asked about specific ones she had seen Fang use. Fang obliged, showing her some of the more intricate combinations, all of which Lightning grasped easily. After a few repetitions Fang called for a break.

"Well, seems like you've got striking down," Fang said. "Can't say I feel too useful, really."

"I knew there would be a lot of overlap with things I've already studied," Lightning said. "That's fine. When we get to the more advanced forms you'll actually be useful."

"Brutal honesty there, Light."

Lightning smirked. "You can handle it, can't you?"

"'Course I can. I just figured you'd show more compassion to the person teaching you a new art," Fang said.

"Here I thought you were repaying a favor."

"Attending one measly party and weeks of teaching are a little different," Fang said jovially.

"Even though you said you wanted to see more of me?" Lightning challenged. Fang frowned.

"When'd I say that? At the club when we met?"

"Then too, but also after the party. When you walked me out."

"Huh. Not ringing a bell. I didn't say anything embarrassing, did I?"

"Nothing you would find embarrassing to say. Though I did already know my eyes are blue," Lightning said.

Fang chuckled nervously. She decided to change the subject. "Right. About time to get back to it, yeah?"

They resumed, with Fang giving Lightning more difficult concepts. She hadn't brought any sparring gear, thinking that their first week would be nothing more than concepts and stances, but Lightning was proving to be a fast learner. She was attentive, focused, and asked good questions. Fang didn't think of herself as a good teacher, but she could recognize a good student when she saw one. It was great that Lightning was picking everything up so quickly, but soon she was left with nothing to teach. Lightning waved it off, although she made sure to emphasis that the following week Fang have more to show. Fang promised she would, and together they set off for their diner.

The next day Lightning had a list of questions that she rattled off to Fang while they warmed up, before sparring. Fang answered what she could in that short time, and took the list as a guide on topics to cover the following Saturday. She remarked how quickly Lightning was learning. Lightning gave her a confident look and told her to get ready- that she was going to show her exactly how much she had learned.

As they sparred Lightning incorporated what they had covered the previous day into her normal strategy. Although she was rough around the edges, the core ideas were there; she stood her ground, she met strikes with limbs, and she threw her share of elbows and knees.

Fang won soundly. No amount of training would overcome the difference in strength in the style between them, but Fang noted improvement in Lightning's form even over the course of their spar. When it ended, they ate at the diner, going over their session the whole time. They parted with a nod and a wave, and started again the following week.

Fang continued to add complexity and intensity to her lessons, and Lightning continued to use Muay Thai in their sparring sessions. Week to week they met, Saturdays in the park, Sundays at Sazh's gym. Over the course of the next few weeks Lightning improved dramatically, to the point that Fang's lessons were more like a second sparring session. Fang couldn't complain, not only for the extra practice she was getting, but also because Lightning was increasingly open the more time they spent together.

Lightning talked more, about their fights, about Serah and their childhood, about her work, about the people around them. She even talked about Fang herself. She asked questions, about Vanille, her other interests. Fang wasn't certain, but it seemed as if the other woman even openly flirted with her at times. Of course, she could be seeing what she wanted to see, but it was hard to ignore the times Lightning used that challenging tone, or gave her that look, the one that made Fang stand straighter, made her heart beat faster. It was exciting, intense, and a little frustrating that she was so caught up in this woman.

The situation came to a head one Saturday when Fang was showing Lightning a particularly nuanced clinch. It involved getting under the arm of an opponent with the shoulder, and Fang was having difficulty just describing it. She was still a little uncomfortable- due to the difficulty focusing she had when she did- demonstrating with their bodies what moves were supposed to look like, but Lightning insisted she just show her.

"Right, sure. So when an opponent does this," Fang said, moving Lightning's arm delicately. "Then you would move here," she moved forward, placing her shoulder under the upper part of Lightning's arm. "From here you can attack while standing, or you can get them to the ground."

"How?" Lightning asked as Fang moved away.

"What?"

"How do you ground them?"

"You'd grab and lift with your whole body, and tip forward," Fang said.

"Let me see it."

"Uh, you sure?" Fang had never successfully clinched Lightning when they sparred, so it was a technique the other woman wouldn't be familiar with. The prospect of getting so close to Lightning, while exciting, was also daunting.

"Yes."

"'Cause I'll be putting you on the ground, not hard or anything, just-"

"I've been doing this for years Fang. I can handle you."

Their eyes met. Fang felt rooted to the spot. She knew why drunk-her must have spoken about Lightning's eyes. They were so clear, so sharp, and so blue. It was as if the other woman could see right through her, understood her, and there she was challenging Fang to push her boundaries.

"Right," Fang breathed. She moved towards Lightning, got back in the clinch position. She explained again, in a low voice, how to get an opponent to the ground. Then she did it.

The hand at Lightning's side grabbed her shirt and lifted and pulled. Her shoulder in Lightning's armpit lifted. She stuck a leg through Lightning's and twisted her hips so Lightning's leg hit her own. They spun, and Lightning fell backwards, Fang following.

Fang had one arm out to catch against the ground, the other wrapped around Lightning's waist. She stopped their fall short, Lightning's back inches from the ground. Slowly she lowered the other woman to the ground. Lightning was looking up at her, and all Fang could see was her parted lips and her heaving chest. Her own breathing was faster than it should have been, and Fang slowly became aware that she could feel Lightning against her. Their legs were still intertwined, their hips flush. Surely Lightning knew that would happen. Surely she knew how much she affected Fang. Surely the atmosphere was just right.

Fang dipped her head down.

"What are you doing."

Fang blinked and pushed herself up quickly. Lightning was looking at her with anger in her eyes.

"I-"

"Get off," Lightning growled. Fang did.

Lightning picked herself up quickly. Fang stayed on the ground as what she had almost done sunk in.

"Light I'm so sorry, I-"

"I don't want to hear it." Lightning was already packing her things, throwing her gloves and headgear into her bag violently.

"I didn't mean to, it just-"

"Just what?" Lightning looked at her. Fang couldn't bring herself to speak. Lightning looked murderous, eyebrows drawn together and face flushed. Fang couldn't help thinking that even like that, the other woman looked beautiful. She snorted- thinking like that had brought nothing but trouble where Lightning was concerned.

Lightning finished packing and started to walk away. Fang called out to her. She didn't stop.

"Are we still sparring tomorrow?" Fang yelled, desperately hoping for a yes.

Lightning paused and her shoulders stiffened. Fang held her breath while she looked at Lightning's back. Then a terse nod and Lightning sped off, leaving Fang to pick up her own things, worry and self-blame rolling around her head.