The Funeral of a Good Girl

By – TempestRaces

Chapter Thirty Five – Of Swordplay and Being Tricky

AN: On the subject of being tricky :D it's come to my attention that people don't know this story exists because they don't know they need to change the ratings to show them the M stories. Thus, in a tricky move of my own, I've changed the rating of the story to T for this one chapter. This chapter doesn't require the M rating :D. I'm doing this solely to perform the public service of advising people that if, and only if, they wish to read all the stories in the category, they need to set the rating to All at the top so they can see, well, all the stories. :D There is M rated content in the story, so be warned that some chapters are M. But if you want to read the story anyway, now you all know it's here. I'll change the rating back with the next chapter…On with the story.

"Ok, you asked for it." Tempest cracked her neck and her knuckles before taking a fighting stance. Leon started her way and she circled him warily, unsure what his plan of attack was going to be.

Leon made a grab for her arm, where it was held out in front of her face, hand coiled into a properly made fist, he noted. He felt his hand close over her slender wrist, but just as he perceived her arm in his grasp, it was gone again and her other fist was glancing off his chin hard enough for him to see stars. He took a good look at how she was holding herself as he shook the mild cobwebs out of his head. "So, what style do you practise?" He wondered why he didn't pick up on it sooner. He could normally pick the people who did any sort of martial art out of a crowd just by their posture and how they walked. He could only surmise he'd attributed the confidence of her gate to her ability to handle herself around a garage full of uncouth men.

"'Scuse me?"

"Martial arts. Why style, what level?"

"Third brown, and that's all you need to know." She smirked with her admission.

"That's a hell of a right hook you got there."

"I know. You wanna keep this up?"

"Yeah, you still can't take me. Not now that I know what I'm up against."

"Ok, bring it on then? Really bring it?"

"You wanna go full contact, both ways? You spar enough for that? That I won't end up really hurting you?"

"I'ma let you find out the hard way." With a frustrated glance at Vince's baggy undershirt, which she was still wearing, she pulled it off over her head. She knew she couldn't be as agile as she would need to be, now that she had a better idea how skilled Leon was, with a baggy shirt getting in her way. With an appreciative look at her midriff, left bare as she now stood in a pair of low cut gym shorts and a sports bra, Leon pulled his own baggy basketball jersey off over his head and tossed it with her top.

They circled each other again, each watching the other for some tell when a strike was about to be unleashed. Tempest laughed at the situation. There was something decidedly unwholesome about two friends trying to beat each other up in the moonlight, each half naked and barefoot in the grass. She made the next move, attempting a side thrust kick into Leon's gut. His arm quickly moved into an inside block and deflected her movement. In a quick second motion, he wrapped his other hand around her ankle and held her foot captive against his stomach before she could snap her foot back and follow through.

Her eyebrow rose. "Same questions, names reversed."

"Second black, and that's all you need to know." It was his turn to smirk. His thumb caressed the skin over her ankle bone absently. He saw and felt the hitch in her breathing. He was starting to breath a little heavy himself. His smug smile intensified.

The smirk was quickly wiped off his face when she allowed his hold on her ankle not only to stand, but to be the pivot point for her next move. She launched herself up and over, putting her weight on his hand and allowing her other foot to leave the ground, her kick colliding with his jaw as she flipped over in mid air, connecting with a crack. Though not as hard as she would have been able to land it, he guessed. He and his still unbroken—thanks to her pulling her kick's power he was sure—jaw, were grateful to her for the gesture. But not enough to let her get away with it.

She landed badly. The move was above her skill level, but had been the only thing she could think to do with her foot trapped in his hand. He used her faulty landing as a point of power and grabbed her, pulling her back into his chest, her back to his front. He pinned her arms at her side by wrapping one of his leanly corded arms around her just under her breasts. He knew he had her pinned and figured he was safe from her retaliations. He lowered his head and stopped with his lips beside her ear. "So now what, Gorgeous?" She didn't answer. Since she seemed content to stand there for the time being, he used his position to take a look down her top with a grin that just screamed 'I'm a bad boy but you love me anyway." Unable to help himself he used his free hand to stroke over her exposed left hip bone. "You know what you need here?"

"A bo staff?" she asked cheekily.

"You couldn't beat me, even with a bo staff. You couldn't beat me with a Katana. But that's beside the point." He ran his fingers lightly over her hip again. "I mean here, literally right here on your hip. Do you know what you need?"

She turned her head so his lips were no longer right beside her ear, but right in front of her mouth instead. "No, tell me." She licked her lips.

Remembering his train of thought took some effort. "A tattoo."

"Really? Right there on my hip? Not on the small of my back or the back of my hip? Right there on the front?"

"You, with a tat on the small of your back? No way. Do you know what guys call those Gorgeous? The tramp stamp. No, you don't need one there. You need one right here on this hip." He tripped his fingers over the bone in question again. Her lean body begged for ink, in his opinion.

"Of what?" They were playing a dangerous game, and she wasn't referring to the Karate. She shivered slightly as his breath slid against her lips.

"Why, the Shotokan Tiger of course." He gave her a little one sided smile. It grew when her face gave away her shock at his correct guess. "It's appropriate. And when that one's healed, next," he turned himself away from her slightly and his free hand slid over the skin of her nape, "a storm cloud with a lightning strike right here." His fingers played over the bones of her spine from her nape to the small of her back before dancing across the back of her hip, over the curve and back around to tease the spot on the front of her lower abdomen he had been bringing into question.

"Leo?"

He almost hated himself for liking the thready tone of her voice. He knew he was walking a stupid line with her but he just couldn't help himself. It wasn't fair that Vince had gotten to her first. Not when he started to see that perhaps her relationship to Jesse wasn't enough to stop him from wanting her too. "Yeah?" he replied gruffly.

"You did say I could do whatever I needed to defend against you, right?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"Sorry," she said right before she slammed one of her feet down onto the instep of one of his. He let her go with a yelp of pain. She whipped around and resumed fighting stance.

"You're tricky," he grunted, fighting the urge to rub his aching foot.

"So're you."

He agreed with a slight incline of his head. He knew as well as she did that neither of them was strictly referring to their martial arts dance. They resumed circling each other warily. Now there was an added overtone of sexual awareness overlying the definite awareness of the physical danger each was obviously able to bring.

Leon kicked at her, aiming for her stomach level. She countered with a downward block and sidestepped his move only to retaliate with a punch directed at his stomach. He caught her wrist so fast she never saw it coming and squeezed hard enough to force her clenched fist to open. He wanted to press her open hand over his crotch so she could feel what their dangerous play was starting to do to him, but he restrained himself. He settled for pressing her palm over his thudding heart. "Surrender yet?"

With a shake of her head, she kicked up. She let him keep her hand pinned where it was as the ball of her foot connected with his cheekbone hard enough to make him roar.

He released her hand so quick it almost upset her balance, only to grab her ankle again and hold her leg steady on his shoulder. She was almost doing the splits standing and didn't seem in any way unhappy about it. He cocked an eyebrow. "You're pretty flexible."

"You don't know the half of it," she retorted with a secretive little smirk.

"What I do know has me very intrigued already. Show me more."

"Well, to show you too much more I'll need that sword you were talkin' about. I'm very dangerous with a Katana. Which begs the question, got a sword you wanna lend me to play with, Leon?"

His hand tripped from her ankle to smooth her calf, before his fingers teased the soft skin on the back of her knee. "Maybe. Depends on if we're done fighting or not."

"Not by half," she grinned.

"Then swordplay'll have to wait."

She pouted. "You scared I'm better with a sword than you are?"

"No. I know you got more skills with a sword than me. You gotta have more practise than I do." He smirked.

She took her foot back. Not swiftly, but slowly, and careful to ensure that her foot trailed over his lean chest, and toned abs. With an evil smirk, she allowed it to slide over his hip, very close to the area he had been hinting at with all his talk of swordplay. She lowered her foot to the grass after her toes tripped around his kneecap. "I can only observe that I've landed far more techniques than you. Whatever style you practise, it must be far easier to get black belts than it is in mine."

"You really do have one fuckin' hell of a smart mouth."

"Never denied it."

"I don't want to hurt you Temp."

She caught his double meaning. He didn't want to break her bones, but there was more to it than that. "You won't. I told you I could take care of myself and I meant it."

They circled each other again, watching for the slightest hint of weakness. Leon kicked out at her, aiming for her stomach but she sidestepped him easily. He punched, aiming for her chin but she deflected his arm over her head with a rising block. "You're not half bad."

"I know." She tried to hook one of his legs out from under him and trip him onto his ass.

He stumbled backward, trying to keep his footing. When he realized he was going down on his back he did the only thing he could think to do. He grabbed her waist on his way down and pulled her down with him. She landed on his chest with a startled gasp. "That was dirty."

"So was tripping me."

"Tripping's an official move."

"Still sneaky." He brushed a piece of hair that had come loose from her messy bun behind her ear. "Can we mutually surrender now? I believe you when you say you can hold your own, ok?"

She rested her suddenly tired head on his shoulder. "I guess so, if you're willing to admit I can keep up with you." She draped her arm over his stomach.

"Oh, I think you could keep up with me and then some," he told her with a naughty smile.

"I know I could."

"I really should take you up on that challenge and see if you really can."

She off his chest and away from him with a put out sigh. "Not tonight Le. Not until I'm more sure of things."

Leon crawled up out of the grass. As the adrenaline of the situation started to wear off, he was feeling the aches in his chin and cheek from her kicks. He was out of practice, he mused with a small frown. That, and he shouldn't have gone quite so easy on her just because she was a female. She was pretty much able to hold her own in a fight, sober at least. "I understand." He reached a hand down to help her up out of the grass before he replaced the chunk of hair which had fallen in her face behind her ear again. "I don't know what I think I'm doin' in the first place here Gorgeous, but I can't seem to help myself from makin' the offer. But I'm no more sure what's right than you are."

She didn't know what to say to him. It was good to know they were both confused. But frustrating to want something she didn't know if she should want. Wasn't sure she did want. "I think I should go to bed. Night," she reached up and kissed his cheek softly. "And thanks for the," a smile played across her face as she waved a hand to encompass the backyard, "distraction. And the workout. I needed it."

"You're welcome. See you in the morning."

"Night," she answered before turning and walking toward the house, dragging her bare toes through the grass.

Leon watched her go before walking down the driveway toward his car. He was far too keyed up to go to bed just yet, one am and just having fought hard for half an hour or not. A sixth sense he knew better than to ignore brought him back a short time later.