A/N: Earning the T rating. Less fluffy than last time.

Prompt – Sparring

"I challenge you to a duel, Hawke."

"What?" She said, looking up in surprise. "Why?"

"Why not?" Genesis said, leaning casually against a twisted Fade tree. "I hear you're rather good at it. It's not as though we've anything better to do."

"I am, in fact, very good." she said, leaning back on her hands from under the tree and giving him a considering look. Finally she relented, getting up and dusting her hands off.

"Alright then. It might be a little unfair though."

"I'll go easy on you if you like." he said.

"I meant unfair on you." she said with a wry smile. He laughed.

"I'm a SOLDIER, Hawke. It's hardly your fault that you're weaker than me."

"I come from a world that hasn't invented anaesthetics yet. I am anything but weak." she said in a dry voice.

"You're pain threshold may be barbarically high, that doesn't mean I can't completely crush you." he said, sounding terribly amused.

Hawke did love a good challenge.

"Bold words, Swordsman." She said archly, "You stand in the Fade and challenge a mage. This is my realm. You don't stand a chance."

"I hope you have the skill to support this bravado." He said, drawing his sword and letting it glint in the faint light.

Hawke smirked, her hand curling around her staff.

"Come and find out."

They stood at the ready before each other. Genesis held his sword defensively, obviously letting her deal the first blow. Little did he know, she had already. A high levelled gravity spell was building in her mind, just waiting for the right moment to be released.

Tired of waiting for her attack, he charged, his sword whistling through the air. She released her spell and watched him stumble back at the last minute. His guard momentarily lowered she struck out with her daggers, making the most of the opening she'd created.

He swore and parried, realising what she'd done and not appreciating the extra weight suddenly attached to his limbs. Impeded as he was, his enhanced speed was out of the picture, bringing him almost down to normal-person level. Hawke danced around him with her daggers flashing dangerously. He kept up, striking back and vying to take the offensive.

Hawke grinned viciously, her daggers both blocked by his flaming sword. Dodging the fireball that he sent after her, she called down a string of lightning bolts to chase him about the battlefield.

Oh, but this was thrilling! Her pulse hammered and Mana sang in her veins. Her staff whistled through the air to send out a lobby of stony earth magic. His shield materia blocked the majority of the attack and she was immediately faced with a relentless rain of strikes from his sword.

Genesis's face held a look of concentration mixed with the sly thrill of a damn good fight, a look of such intensity that could easily slay lesser women on sight. He was relentless in his attacks and Hawke had the exhilarating suspicion that she may have bitten of more than she could chew. She was sure her electric grin made her look utterly mad.

She staggered back after parrying a slash from his sword and called on a barrier spell. She had to keep her distance; in terms of magic she had every advantage: greater power, greater speed, and greater versatility. In melee however, he really could crush her and probably without even trying all that hard.

They danced around each other, Hawke keeping him at distance with a constant barrage of magical attacks that forced him onto the defensive. Neither of them were pulling their punches and the surroundings were suffering for it. Half the trees had already been either set on fire or sliced through in the crossfire.

The problem was that Hawke's strongest attacks which her fingers were itching to unleash were all either lethal or indescribably painful. She had never really bothered with learning how to disarm her opponents, Kirkwall didn't allow for such niceties. With half of her arsenal off the table and Genesis' flaming sword pushing her onto the defensive again, she would have to get creative.

She forced him back with a string of lightning bolts, and then followed it up with an incredibly focused kinetic spell. Genesis' sword was blasted out of his hand and went flying beyond the grove of trees. He cried out in indignation. Hawke laughed wickedly at his look of outrage. She did so enjoy riling him up.

Of course, his sword held most of his materia and without it his only option was extreme close quarters. In a flash of red and black leather he charged her, batting aside her staff with a re-appropriated shield spell, tackling her and sending them both to the ground. In the split second before she was grappling with someone who had more than thrice her strength, Hawke reflected that she may not have thought this through.

They rolled a couple of times, her daggers getting lost somewhere in the scuffle. For all that he looked lean next to many of his co-workers he was still all solid unyielding muscle, while Hawke was built for speed and flexibility, not strength. Her fluid agility had her eluding his grasp, though not for long. At this range the vast majority of her magical attacks would either outright kill him or just splash back onto herself. The cunning man probably knew she wouldn't risk either and he soon had her completely pinned, holding both of her hands above her head in an iron grip. After writhing about looking for an opening and coming up empty, Hawke fell back, breathing heavily.

He was effectively straddling her, maintaining his hold on her wrists he brought one of his hands down to lightly trace her neck. He looked down at her panting form, his eyes glowing with the exertion and his smile predatory.

He leaned down closer to her, their faces only inches apart.

"Do you yield, Hawke?" He asked smoothly. Well, when he put it like that…

"Not a chance." she purred.

There was a flash of his smile, sharp and ravenous and sending a shock of arousal through her. Then the moment snapped and Genesis' mouth was on hers. It was rough and demanding, a clash of lips and teeth. Her hand slipped from his grasp and dragged through his hair, barely remembering not to scratch him with her gauntlet. Their tongues warred for dominance and adrenaline from the fight swiftly transformed into something else entirely. His arm wrapped tightly around her waist like a band of steel while the other explored her figure with surprising gentleness.

Hawke ran her hands under his coat, feeling hard muscle hiding under his uniform. She tried to push the leather further back to allow her more access but he didn't want to relinquish his hold on her. She bit his lower lip in protest and he growled, suddenly pinning her to the ground with even greater fervour. She moaned in response, her thoughts scattering under the assault of sensation. The friction as she writhed against him was divine, but still only a hint of the ecstasy she was chasing. Evidence of his arousal was pressing against her stomach, making her insides molten just at the thought of having him. Her body ground against his in a desperate attempt to get closer.

He groaned at her movements and his hands clamped down on her hips. He ground his hips against hers, slow and purposeful over their clothes, driving them both mad with need.

She moaned his name and found his eyes locked on hers, his pupils blown wide with hunger.

"Hawke…" He said, his voice in a low and husky register that sent another pang of desire through her. His lips claimed hers again, repeating the controlled grind of his hips on hers.

She threw her head back with a gasp and his lips trailed down her neck to lavish attention on her collarbone. Between the kisses and the caresses she finally got his coat and then his shirt off. His hands found the clasps of her armour. He tossed aside her pauldrons and she traced his finely muscled arms and chest. His hands met her bare skin, trailing slowly up her waist under her tunic. Her world was reduced solely to the man above her, an ache building deep within her that demanded he be hers. Hawke's unhinged magic sparked across her skin in little bolts, a physical manifestation of her burning need.

An ear piercing ring blared out, startling both of them. What the-?

Hawke sat bolt upright, blankets falling off her narrow bed. The ringing phone screamed on, scattering the last of strands of the Fade.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" she cried, looking across her dark and empty room in aching disappointment. The phone kept ringing.

She scrambled across the darkened room and snatched up the offending device.

"What the hell do you want?!" She yelled into it, feeling more pissed off then she had in years.

"Morning Ma'am." a nasally voice droned as though she hadn't spoken "This is your five O'clock wake up call."

"I didn't ask for a wakeup call." she ground out, wondering if it was possible to electrify someone through the phone line.

"What? Oh. Right. Wrong room." The line went dead.

Hawke threw the phone at the wall.

Miles above her, in a luxurious Shinra apartment, a frustrated Soldier set fire to his curtains.

A/N: I'm not sorry.

Next Time: either Fenris or Soldier Shenanigans, whichever I finish first.