Hey people I know it's been forever but I kind of lost inspiration for this story.

This won't be very good but hang in there, I'm trying….

WARNING- Possible Language; Bitch Hell, Bastard, Pissed ass

Sorry, in a pissy mood.

Disclaimer- Whatever

Zach's POV (Happy dance!)

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. These girls are good; really good.

"Dude!" Grant hissed for the millionth time, jerking his head towards another showy girl.

"Yes Grant, that's a girl. Congratulations." I said slowly, but he shook his head and whispered one word.

'Gallagher'

"Blue eyes blond hair, micro-miniskirt, leather, five foot." He said confidently in his Coms.

"Mrs. Walters you've been compromised. Pick up the pace boys, only half an hour left." Solomon's clear voice rang throughout the coms and I turned away. Grant suddenly walked away, muttering something about meeting up later. I raised my eyebrows at him.

I turn just to run smack dab into something, falling gracefully on my butt.

Real smooth Goode…

The first thing I see when I look up is legs.

A long, long, long, pair of tan slim legs.

I gulp, my eyes meeting her smirking face.

"See something you like?" She asks in a low voice.

"Yes, and it just happens to be my reflection." I say, retaining my cocky demeanor.

"Really, because I don't see a mirror on my shorts," She smirks again, and I can tell why people call my smirk annoying.

"Oh, and by the way, next time," She pauses, leaning really close. "Be a little subtle with your staring Blackthorne Boy." Her voice matches the voice of none other than Cammie Morgan.

"Mr. Goode, you've been compromised." Solomon's deflated voice rang through my coms, and my head spun. "Return to the van at once, Girl's have won this round." I could hear the whoops of the Gallagher Girls as I walked back to the van, my head hung low.

"Round 2, sparring." Abby said once we had gotten back, her head held high after the girls' win. "Sutton, Anderson (?)."

"Jonas, man you got this!" Grant said, smacking him on the back a little too hard. He coughed and spluttered an 'Idiot doesn't know his own strength.'

"Each match is worth 1 point, at the moment the girls are up by 5. Only rule is no murder, and no paralysis lasting longer than 39 days. Oh, and ladies," Solomon said smirking. (Warning- next sentence OOC!)"I should hope you will have enough mercy to let them have kids in the future, Miss. Baxter, Miss. Morgan,"

"Yeah!" Jordan Pifer butted in, "No touching, smacking, kicking, or throwing heavy objects on the family jewels, please." The girls cracked up.

"I'll keep that in mind, but I don't think they will." Macey says, jerking her thumb to a howling Bex and a giggling Cammie.

Liz and Jonas walked up to the mat in the non-air-conditioned P&E barn. You would think the CIA would have enough money to afford some AC.

The whistle was blown, and they spent a few minutes circling each other nervously, waiting for the other to make the first move. A small breeze wafted through the hot and sticky room, and we fanned ourselves.

Liz, getting impatient, swings her foot out suddenly, and Jonas stumbles slightly. She backhands him with surprising force for a little pixie like blond. Jonas falls backwards and she twists his foot around so he's face up. She puts one tennis shoe covered foot on his throat, the other near his stomach. He gasps and taps out.

"Girls; 6, Boys; 0. Baxter, Newman."

Grant gulps a little as Bex flashes her wicked sharp claws.

Bex doesn't wait for the bell before she tackles him to the ground, twisting his arms, punching his gut, and performing many torture methods only illegal in Zimbabwe. We all wince when she kicks him in a place no man should ever be kicked. Showing no mercy, she stands up, and jumps back down, slamming her elbow in his abdomen.

They had to pull her off him. Grant, despite his misshapen face, grins like a dork.

"That was hot." He whispers to me, before heading to the infirmary. I shake my head, laughing at his obvious obsession with the British spy girl.

"Goode, Morgan." The universe must hate me. She steps out of the crowd, wearing a tight tank top, some yoga shorts, black lace gloves, and a streak in her hair bright pink. I gulp, much like the way Grant had moments before getting his to-stupid-to-know-the-difference-between-a-fork-and-a-spoon tanned ass beat by a girl he has a major crush on, even though it's only been a few days.

We steps up.

"Ready to die, cocky bastard?" She asks me, filing her nails (Which she could easily use to commit mass murder singlehandedly.

"If I die, I'm bringing you down with me." She looked bored, continuing to file her nails.

God must hate me.

Short I know, sorry for the long wait, but I've been super busy and need inspiration.

Sooo

PM ME OR LEAVE A REIVEW OF YOUR IDEA!

I'm seriously stuck….

Bye,

Queen-Of-All-Bitches (Again, I know its not my screen name! it suits me though ;D)