A/N: For a little while, I thought my best idea for this prompt was something to do with double-takes. Then I realized tennis had doubles matches and ran away with this idea instead. Enjoy!

Day 29 | Johnny, Enrique, Emily | Rated: T

Double

"What's the matter, Johnny? Scared you'll lose?"

Johnny sneered. If there was one way to get his blood boiling, it was to insult his honor and claim he was afraid. Especially when your name was Enrique and you had a giggling blonde – wearing a hotel tennis uniform with her polo unbuttoned all the way – hanging off of your arm.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed, rolling his eyes at the way her arms tightened around one of Enrique's, brushing her cleavage against his elbow. "You've never beaten me at tennis. What makes you think that'll change now?"

"Summer's one of the tennis instructors here at the hotel," Enrique bragged, meeting Summer's eyes with a look of exaggerated infatuation that made her melt into him even more. Johnny rolled his eyes – he'd seen the same song and dance a million times. "With her on my team, I can't lose!"

"Ha! Please."

Johnny seriously hoped Enrique wasn't that delusional. He could tell just by looking at Summer that she wasn't employed for her talent. Every resort with a tennis court kept a handful of mediocre instructors on staff to make patrons feel like they were learning something while they ogled. She might have been able to beat Enrique one-on-one, but there was no way she'd win against Johnny, even if she and Enrique worked together.

"I told you he'd be too chicken," Enrique said in a stage whisper against Summer's ear, making her giggle and Johnny scowl. "He'd never find somebody to partner with him in a doubles match anyway." He made to steer Summer away.

"Don't walk away from me, Enrique!" Johnny snarled, stopping his teammate in his tracks. If he wasn't so insulted by the notion that Enrique and one of his bimbos would be any type of match for him on the tennis courts, Johnny might have realized Enrique was bluffing before he turned back around with a smug grin.

"Is the mighty Johnny accepting our challenge, after all?" Enrique asked, raising one eyebrow.

Johnny wanted to punch him in the face. He tightened his grip on his racket. "It's not much of a challenge," he spat, "but I've got some time to kill, so why not?"

"Who's your partner?" Summer's voice was melodic and forcibly high-pitched.

Johnny fought the urge to roll his eyes and scanned his surroundings.

Robert would be his first choice. He was a little bit good at everything, and it wouldn't take much to help Johnny wipe the floor with Enrique and his little fling. He could just make out his purple hair some distance away, sitting at a table under an umbrella. Unfortunately, he had his laptop in front of him and a cellphone glued to his ear. Business call. Traitor.

Oliver was closer, thumbing through a magazine on the other side of the fence. Before he could even consider asking, Oliver glanced up and said, "Not a chance."

Johnny should've guessed that, but he shot a glare in his direction anyway.

"If you can't find a partner, you can always forfeit," Enrique suggested.

"I'm not going to forfeit!"

"We won't tell anybody, right?" Enrique tickled Summer in the side, making her squirm away in a fit of giggles.

While they were distracted, Johnny looked desperately around. There was no way he was backing down. At this point, if he didn't get to take some of his frustration out on the tennis ball, there was no guarantee he wouldn't go after Enrique instead, just to sate his temper.

But there was nobody to partner with. Old men and women and their own pretty-faced instructors were taking up most of the courts. The majority of their fellow beybladers were at the pool; he'd seen them there on his way out. He was about ready to say 'screw it' and tell them he didn't need a partner for the likes of them, when someone caught his eye.

The girl from the All Starz – Emily – was outside the fence, surveying the courts with a frown. She had a Lacoste tennis dress on and a custom racket tucked under her arm. Johnny ran in circles where people bought custom rackets just because they could, but she didn't strike him as the flashy type. Then he remembered her old launcher.

Enrique and his instructor friend were going down.

"Laugh while you can!" Johnny called to Enrique while he chased Summer around the court. He could see the confusion in his eyes and met it with a smug smile, before walking over to the fence.

Emily noticed his approach, watching him with a curious expression as he headed straight towards her.

"Hey, you!" he called as he crossed the last few meters of the court. No one would ever accuse Johnny of being as smooth as Enrique, but he got his point across. Even if Oliver tutted from somewhere off to the left, appalled by his manners. "You know how to play, right?"

Close up, Johnny could see the definition in her arms and her wheels turning as her eyes narrowed.

"Of course I do," she said, looking him up and down before shooting a look past him, just in time to see Enrique playfully spank Summer with his racket. Her frown deepened. "Do me a favor and tell Enrique and his date to clear off if they aren't going to play. I want to get some practice in."

Johnny liked her attitude already.

"They challenged me to a doubles match," he said with a roll of his eyes. "If you help me send them packing, I'll share the court and we can both practice."

The wheels were turning again as Emily considered his offer. In the background, Enrique was flirting with Summer ("You know, summer's my favorite season.") and one of Emily's eyes twitched behind her glasses.

"All right," she acquiesced. "Anything to shut them up."

Emily made her way to the nearest gate and joined Johnny on the court. Together, they approached their opponents.

"So you found a partner after all, huh?" Enrique asked, draping his arm easily around Summer's tan shoulders. Her face was flushed from exertion and her chest was heaving. Johnny smirked. If she couldn't even flounce around the court without breaking a sweat, then their match was going to be a cakewalk.

"You remember Emily." He nodded to the redhead beside him. Truth be told, he didn't know how memorable Emily would be for someone like Enrique, who tended to pay the most attention to conventionally attractive girls with more boobs than brains. Enrique greeted her with a charismatic smile nonetheless.

"Emily! It's good to see you."

"I'm sure," Emily said, unamused. She took a step forward that, somehow, felt more menacing on the tennis court than it would have elsewhere. There was no doubt that Emily was in her element. She looked at Enrique and Summer as if she was sizing them up and said, "Here's how it's gonna go. Johnny and I are going to beat you at tennis. Then, you're going to take your little sideshow off the court so we can practice in peace. Got it?"

Johnny bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cackling at the way Enrique's face fell when he realized Emily was immune to his charms. Summer's pouty lips fell open into the shape of an 'O', eyes catching on Emily's racket and widening. The distant fluttering of Oliver's magazine pages stopped abruptly.

Enrique recovered quickly, a grin curling onto his face. "Sounds good to me," he said, sliding his arm down to Summer's waist. "I can think of plenty of ways to have fun on or off the court." He winked at Summer. She blushed and swatted playfully at his chest.

Johnny felt like he might hurl.

The feeling passed quickly enough when Summer and Enrique lost the racket spin minutes later.

"Darn!" Summer exclaimed when she lifted her hand from the base of her racket to reveal the 'W' Johnny had called instead of an 'M'. "Guess you win this one." Her hazel eyes flicked from Johnny to Emily, waiting for their decision.

"I'll serve," Emily said, snatching up a tennis ball.

Part of Johnny was pissed at her for choosing without consulting him, but the rest of him agreed that it was better to start strong and get the match over with, so he didn't argue. Instead, he scowled and asked, "What side of the court do you two want?"

"This one suits us just fine," Enrique said, getting into position on his half of their side.

Summer nodded in agreement and took up the other half. Johnny could tell by how she was standing that she knew more about tennis than the average person you met on the street, but there was no way a mediocre knowledge meant to impress a bunch of amateurs would be enough in this match. He smirked and dropped to the balls of his feet, ready for action.

Emily backed up and, with minimal warning, tossed the ball into the air and slammed her racket into it with so much force that it sailed right between Enrique and Summer before either of them could even think to dive for it. It hit the ground with a satisfying smack, cleanly inside the lines, and bounced away.

Johnny couldn't hold back his laughter this time as Emily smoothed down her dress and waited for one of their opponents to retrieve the ball. "Fifteen love," he choked out, committing Enrique's shocked expression and Summer's awe to memory. Maybe this would be less of a hassle than he'd figured it for.

After Enrique and Summer picked their jaws up off the ground, the game continued in much the same rhythm. Even though she boasted the title of 'instructor', Summer wasn't on the same level as Johnny and Emily. She did better than Enrique, who hit more balls into the net than Johnny had previously thought possible, but she still only scored a handful of lucky points throughout the entire match.

When she was flushed red against her crisp, white uniform, and Enrique's hair was such a mess from the humidity that no amount of smoothing it back out of his face could make it fall attractively, they threw in the towel.

"You know, I'm usually pretty good at this," Summer said, prettier now that she'd sweat most of her makeup off. She shook Johnny's hand, then Emily's, a bright smile on her face.

"Yeah, well, you lost us the match," Enrique pouted. He didn't offer his hand for a shake – a shame, because Johnny wanted to gloat – and tossed his racket to the side dejectedly. He didn't reach for Summer's waist, a sure sign that he was bored of her now. Instead, he traipsed off to complain to Oliver. Loser.

To Summer's credit, she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were fiery and locked on Emily with the same awe from earlier.

"That was an amazing serve! You had us on the run from the get-go! If I wasn't half an hour late for my lunch break, I'd ask you to show me how it's done, but I'm starving," she said, resting both her hands on her stomach as she backed towards the gate. "Maybe another time?"

Emily shrugged. "If you want."

Summer waved goodbye and disappeared in the direction of the resort.

Johnny and Emily stood on the edge of the now-empty court, drinking deeply from their water bottles. Johnny watched as Oliver slammed his magazine shut and walked briskly back to the hotel, desperate to get away from Enrique and his complaints that followed right after. He snickered.

At some point, he'd track Enrique down and rub his loss in his face. For now, he was going to reap the benefits.

"Hey, Emily?"

"Yes?" She met his gaze with an inquiring one of her own, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"Up for a real challenge?" he asked, brandishing his racket with a smirk.

There those wheels went again as Emily considered his offer. Toying with Enrique was great, but nothing could compare to an opponent who really knew what they were doing. He hoped she shared that mentality, because there were a lot of tournament stops to go, and if he could play tennis in his downtime, it would make the close quarters with his teammates much more bearable.

"Your serve won't work against me," he taunted, "so that better not be the best that you've got."

Emily snorted. "Just you wait, Johnny," she answered and began to spin her racket. "You ain't seen nothing, yet."

A/N: Because Johnny plays tennis that one time, I love the idea of him and Emily connecting over it. I really enjoy when bladers from different teams are shown getting along or hanging out together. Makes me happy.

I'm sure something in this fic makes it obvious that I know next to nothing about tennis. I did some reading, but I wasn't about to choreograph an entire match, so I didn't do deep research. I did learn that it's common in clubs to choose who serves by covering the butt of the racket, spinning it, and calling out what part of the logo will be facing up. So I tried to include that. (Summer's racket is a Wilson, so the logo is a 'W' when it's facing upright.) I don't know how well it translates, but it's there lol

Thanks for reading! :)