The weekend came, and with it a new direction in Suzaku's exercise regimen. What had been carefully controlled ballroom work became a sort of freestyle challenge that called on more than his sense of rhythm. Aurora had foregone her vintage pumps, flowing skirts, and classy blouses for her lethal black athletic shoes, sleek black leggings that clung to her curves lovingly, and a racerback tank the color of poppies. Taking his cues from Aurora's wardrobe and her fiercely braided hair, Suzaku dressed in his usual shoes, well-fitting athletic pants, and a tank-top so dark green, it was nearly black. He'd thrown the windows open in defense against not only the music's pounding volume, but to allow in the occasional floating breeze, which ribboned against their exertion-heated skin with a distinctly sweet texture.

It took only about twenty minutes for him to realize that he would never be as flexible as Aurora. It wasn't as if Suzaku was exactly stiff-jointed, but that woman seemed to have bones made of water. From there, it rapidly became a contest more of gymnastic skill than dancing, proving Aurora's labor-intensive choice to roll out the black, wall-to-wall floor mats a sound one. It was only when they got to the point of escalating layout twists one after the other that she called for a break, laughing when Suzaku had to throw in one last impossibly difficult twist to his flip.

He stepped over to the bench, arching his back in a stretch as Aurora rolled her shoulder.

"Looking good, Suzaku. I wouldn't have minded taking you into just about any competition with me as a partner in the old days."

As he guzzled water, Suzaku smiled slightly at her words, suddenly coming to attention when a thought occurred to him.

"Does that mean I'm ready to spar?"

Aurora finished wiping her face before crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, tilting her head as she looked him up and down. It was excitement, he assured himself, over the prospect of actual action again that had his skin tingling under her gaze.

"I don't know. The last time you went at it with a girl in hand-to-hand, you got your ass handed to you."

"I didn't resist Kallen," he managed with wounded male pride. "Besides, how the hell do you know about that?"

"One, you told me. Two, it's in your file."

At his furrowed brow, she continued with a chuckle.

"You can't visit a doctor with contact injuries you refuse to explain and think they won't figure it out. Take it from someone who's seen abuse; claiming that you walked into a door doesn't work when you've got knuckle pattern bruising across your cheek."

Suzaku winced faintly at the memory.

"So. Sparring?" he nudged, eager to get off the subject of his humiliation at both his actions with the Refrain and his subsequent punishment from Kallen.

"I suppose if we keep it light, there won't be a problem. I won't go easy on you, but don't worry. I'll restrain myself from cracking your ribs like Kallen did. The girl has a whollop on her, huh?" As she fiddled with her music, Suzaku grimaced with a crooked grin.

"Like a bulldozer."

The piano and distant vocals threw him for a moment, briefly taking his attention from Aurora while she moved into position. But when the heavy bass hit, resounding through the wood and mats under their feet like a thunder clap, Suzaku witnessed a change overtake her that, even though he'd believed, he hadn't fully understood.

She snapped to attention with a whip-like crack, turning metallic eyes on him that had gone from sparking and fun to downright predatory as she slowly began to circle him. Unconsciously, it dragged instinct to the surface, and Suzaku shifted into a combat stance that had been all but woven into his DNA. Closing in fast, she struck swift and hard, driving him back a step by the sheer speed of her movements. Glee lit her eyes like distant artillery fire, and with every swipe and punch, she tested him, gauging her ground. He could see it all happening, see the feral determination written on every line and curve of her face – it was always this way. Suzaku's comprehension of a person was never as clear as when he was locked in combat with them.

And he could finally recognize that Aurora, his Aurora, was a fighter, way down deep in the marrow of her bones. One that invariably used her intense speed and flexibility to her advantage. It was like trying to grab the tail of a leopard – just when you thought you closed in, she spun out of range, turning brutal fangs and claws on you. This was just sparring, so both of them avoided pressure points and fragile areas as much as possible. But Suzaku was realizing that it was a poor choice to persist going easy on her. Easy? That was hilarious. He'd be lucky if he could keep her off of him for the duration of the song. She was of a caliber that he'd never really considered, and he was out of practice and soft.

He could tell that she echoed the rhythms of the song with her movements, but instead of acting as an obvious tell, it granted a stability that Suzaku couldn't quite match. When the music crested, paired with an electronically-altered, deep voice speaking of lightning, Aurora swung close, her eyes lit with challenge and a teasing taunt as she used his shoulder as a springboard to flip over him. He snapped around in time to block the strike she'd would have probably landed on his kidney, but she was accelerating with the mechanical beat, and he was struggling to keep up, still thrown off by the sheer level of skill she was displaying. Aurora wasn't just good – she was deadly.

There were three tell-tale beats regularly throughout the song, and whenever they arose, Aurora moved in time, incorporating a bizarre combination of inhuman flips and aerials with the occasional elbow jab and close-range hit. She didn't have a particular style – her more polished martial arts were set off by brutal brawling strikes, a tight-in blow immediately followed by a rapid, graceful back spring that had Suzaku dodging backward to avoid her foot smacking his nose, and taking her invariably out of range.

Suzaku quickly realized that Aurora was all but impossible to predict, even if she did move in time to the song. It also became violently apparent that she was enjoying herself, and the blood lust streamed through her system stronger than he'd assumed was possible for her.

As for him? As badly as Suzaku wanted to return to something he understood, something he could excel at without much thought, Aurora had proven herself to be the kind of opponent he hadn't faced in a laughably long time. One that rivaled him in skill.

The movements were all the same, familiarly written in his muscles, despite their atrophy. And yet, he couldn't find the elegantly simple measure that had thrummed through his brain during this particular scenario all his life. Instead, there was a static, occasionally peaking with the music or a particularly impressive maneuver by Aurora, but still falling shy of the innate confidence that had carried him through both loss and triumph.

Where was it? The one thing that he was good at, the one thing that proved he was of value? His mouth dried even as he neatly blocked the flash of Aurora's punch for his solar plexus. Suzaku envied her the smooth confidence that sang along every line of muscle, emphasized by the cocky snap she gave in sync with the song before leaping on him like a jungle cat. He managed to deflect her, but he realized with a vague panic that he was losing ground. She was boxing him in with her movements, outpacing and outdistancing him just enough to cut off his retreats.

The rapid-fire blocks and strikes they exchanged nearly settled him again, a reassuring series of movements that had him in tempo with Aurora, neck and neck, locked in tight equality. But just when he thought he'd gained the upper hand, she slipped away, throwing off certainty by suddenly moving out of reach. Before he could regain his balance, however, she was back, matching him, breath for breath and hit for hit. The pressure grew, as she drew closer and closer, her strikes faster and faster, until suddenly, she snagged his wrists, drawing him close until their noses nearly touched.

She mouthed the words of the song, demanding that he hit her with lightning. The proximity, the rapidly escalating tension of the bout, nearly had Suzaku freezing in uncertainty. This tiniest pause allowed her to use his arm as a support beam, launching over it so that she was now suddenly behind him, the most dangerous position to allow any opponent to be in. He kicked out backwards in a desperate, instinctive attempt to gain some space. She leapt back, then suddenly lunged in for a kick that probably would have more than bruised his ribs had it landed. He twisted away, but not before she caught his right wrist, reeling him in and wrapping his arm around her waist in a maneuver not unlike the dances they'd been practicing for days. It rattled him enough that Aurora managed to throw her weight against him and bear them both to the ground.

Before he could blink his way clear of the stars that danced in his vision as his lungs worked to suck back in the air the fall had forcefully expelled, she swiftly and neatly locked him in a judo pin. Left arm clamped down over his wrist, her right arm snugly cradled his neck, her legs splayed out to keep her balanced, and her weight leveraged against his chest. The song slowed to a dream-like cadence, and Suzaku found himself nearly hypnotized by the face she'd brought disconcertingly close.

"Yield?" she asked sweetly. He simply clenched his teeth, struggling to get himself out of the hold and ignore the sizzle racing through his muscles at the closeness off her.

"Do you yield?" Aurora asked again, this time her lips near his ear, close enough that he could feel the pulse thudding under her jaw against his cheek. With an explosive sigh as his lungs heaved – from the exertion, he was certain, not her closeness – he nodded. Aurora was kind enough to slowly loosen her hold, instead of dropping it suddenly and allow the pins and needles to light up his muscles like fireworks. She even ran her palm down his clamped arm in a firm, comforting rub before helping him up to his feet.

"Take a breather. You did beautifully for your first spar in nearly six months."

Somehow, her praise made Suzaku feel even worse, hollow and worthless.

"Thanks," he managed woodenly, turning blindly towards the bench. Jesus. What was wrong with him? He'd just lost against a skinny little girl in hand-to-hand combat. Maybe they should have just taken him out back and shot him instead of investing all that time and effort to help him recover when he couldn't even manage the one thing he was supposed to be good at. He plopped down, wiping the towel Aurora offered over his face as she scrolled through her music player.

"Why do you think I managed to take you down?"

It took Suzaku a moment to bring himself to look up at her. She was still perusing her music collection, simultaneously offering him his water bottle. He took it slowly, watching Aurora slowly regain her breath. Funny, she'd seemed so controlled, so in her element, that he hadn't even noticed the level she must have been pushing herself to. It was some small comfort that he'd made her work for the win.

"I underestimated you," he answered quietly before taking a deep drink of water. She nodded, still not looking at him.

"Yeah, you did. But, more importantly," she said, finally lifting her eyes, starred with silver and sparking with electricity, to his, "you underestimated yourself."

Mutely, he watched her select a song and set the player back into its dock.

"Rest up. And think it over. You're up again for the next song."

She walked away to the punkish violin, and Suzaku considered. He wanted to redeem himself, but without several months of serious training, did he really stand a chance? Suzaku was idly watching Aurora as the singer asked if they were ready before demanding "Let's go!" Aurora executed a perfect front aerial, slamming to the floorboards in time to the punishing introductory beat of the song.

It was an appropriate choice – the make-up of notoriety, the different elements required when developing a skill. And at least half of it was pain. It made Suzaku wonder what Aurora had suffered to reach the level of expertise she displayed. Part dancer, part demon, she could likely annihilate just about any adversary she came across, if her charm didn't disarm them or her information network didn't castrate them first. Deadly, smart, beautiful, compassionate and flawed.

And here, with him, in the quiet Irish countryside. How that possibly made sense in the fabric of the universe, Suzaku had no idea. But as he watched her run through an odd version of katas that were as gorgeous as they were treacherous, he realized he didn't care. With an unfamiliar greed, he gathered the seconds tight, and took careful note.

She liked to pair close-range hits with big maneuvers that took her out of reach of immediate counter-attack. He'd already seen that; but he hadn't noticed the way she carefully scanned, even if there was nothing to see, after landing those big retreats, a tiny falter in her otherwise flawless rhythm. He knew it well enough himself – those grand movements disoriented even the most experienced of practitioners. It was a bitch to get your bearings after a double back handspring. Still, her armor was impressive, the tiniest of chink often compensated for by a kick or punch that could easily down a man of Dalton's constitution. He wouldn't be surprised if her strength rivaled, or surpassed, Kallen's.

Suzaku had managed to keep her from landing anything maiming during their first bout, but she had likely assumed he could do so, considering the power she'd been throwing at him after promising to keep it light. Yeah, right. It was becoming apparent that Aurora's "light" was the average mortal's "threat-of-death strong." If he was being honest, though, Suzaku was no average mortal. As long as he kept his wits about him, didn't become flustered by her speed or saucy attitude, and kept an eye on those minute falters that no one went without, he could likely take her down.

If he didn't let himself become mired in doubt, he realized. Looking back, it was obvious the way he'd defended his left shoulder and arm, like an old man hiding a bruise. The way he'd played it small and safe, and how that particular fear had left him all but defenseless against Aurora's ruthless ability. Objectively, he was more than matched for her, when he wasn't crippled by injuries Kendra had deemed healed. Suzaku didn't have to ask to know that the doctor had already cleared him; Aurora would never have agreed to this little exercise otherwise. So what the hell was he doing, acting like he'd never crossed fists or blades with anyone of import? Where was Suzaku Kururugi, the man who all but invincible in battle, who had fought the most terrifying warriors of his time, and not only survived, but triumphed?

He was in Ireland, in a lovely studio letting in the soft summer sun and air. He was sparring with an incredible woman, and he was about to get his goddamn confidence back. Pushing off his knees to stand, Suzaku idly stretching his shoulders and quads as he watched Aurora move with eagle-like intensity.

Although she mystified the hell out of him on a fairly regular basis, he understood Aurora here, as a combatant. And what insight he did have into her personality would no doubt give him an edge in this bout. As the edgy rap wound to a close, Suzaku resurrected an old habit, dissecting the way the way she moved as Aurora turned and snagged her water bottle. The way she breathed. That intense awareness and attention worked just as well on muscle and tendon as it did on steel and screws.

Aurora finally met his gaze, lowering her water bottle slowly, leveling an odd look his way. For once, he didn't mind making her a little nervy, throwing her a little off guard. It was time to level the playing field.

Not that Aurora was one to allow an unblinking stare from her friend/opponent to bobble her stride too much. Even if the spooky, deep green of his eyes seemed to glimmer in the warm sunlight, making her heart thump a little harder against her ribs. She just tossed him a cheeky grin, humble enough to admit that she was a little relieved with the predatory stark lines of Suzaku's face softened a little with the slight smile he gave her in return. It was proud, and a little cool, but at least he wasn't gazing at her like a wolf judging the best way to take down a deer. Now, he was ready to play.

She picked the next song, rolling her shoulders loose as the bubbling electronic notes rippled out. They circled each other slowly, and Aurora felt her blood heat at the alert power in his eyes. This was the Suzaku of legend, the man who mowed through challengers like a scythe through summer grass. It was a beautiful sight, she had to admit.

And it was a pleasure to see his head in the game, to see him calculating and reacting with leonine grace as they threw a few testing shots, reevaluating each other, applying what they had learned in the first bout. Suzaku certainly had an easier time of it – Aurora didn't think she could change this much in three minutes if she tried. He'd been skilled, but cautious; now, he tested her defenses with raptor-like efficiency and ungodly strength. Aurora couldn't help it; she loved every damn second.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Suzaku launched at her, aiming a swing for her shoulder that would have sent her crumpling like a bag of branches had it connected. As it was, she managed to block it, to keep her ground and her balance, but the shock had her bones rattling. Aurora pushed herself to bounce back, to pay attention as he began a punishing volley of strikes that aimed to disorient as much as dismantle. She fought for a gap, gained a little room as she slithered through it. Took a valuable second to settle before she began her own counterattack.

They were both fast, wickedly so. Where Suzaku obviously outmatched her in strength, Aurora made up for it with sinuous grace and flexibility. It took a moment for her to realize that the music wasn't muffled by the pounding of blood in her ears; the song briefly sounded like it was underwater. Instinctively, they slowed, catching their breaths, reassessing before tangling again. She didn't consciously notice when she bared her teeth in a warrior's grin as she struck like a cobra. Because she was having the time of her life.

That small, fierce smile had Suzaku's heart rate spiking in time with the heightened beat of music. It sent an animal aspect in him, normally drowned into silence under the steady commands of the soldier that ruled his brain during combat, surging. High and bright as a comet, with a mischievous tickle of fun riding on its tail. Swept along by its heat and intrigue, Suzaku loosened the careful leash he kept on his physical ability. Not because of rage or battle fury, pain or fear. But because the glitter in Aurora's eyes seemed to demand it. Because there was a peculiar, tingling joy to be had in the pure truth that when he asked something of himself, even if it should be impossible, his bone and muscle obeyed.

Not perfectly; he was, after all, coming back from three months of enforced medical rest. But the core was there, so eagerly waiting to be tapped into. And he had to, in order to keep up with Aurora, who practically glowed at the prospect of a good head-to-head clash. But keeping up with her wouldn't be enough, not this time. He wanted to win; he had a suspicion that perhaps he even needed to. Because he was afraid to survive what surrendering again would do to him. So, finding another level to click into, Suzaku began to relentlessly push.

Aurora wasn't sure when he cranked into a higher gear, but it had her adrenaline singing like wine through her veins. The guy moved like a ninja, hit like a jackhammer, and parried like a fencer. She was having so much fun, she could have cried. Block, hit, twist, turn, flip, kick. Like their earlier stab at a little street dancing, this competition was rapidly escalating. They sprinted, tumbled, bounced off the walls, and launched into aerials, all in an attempt to outflank the other. At one point, they clashed, locking each other in a mutual hold that neither of them could break or tighten. They were all but glued together, arms tangled and legs poised to strike.

Suzaku was the first to try, a part of his brain quivering with enough panic at the feel of Aurora pressed so thoroughly against him to have him kicking out. But she just rippled out of the way, slithering close, making Suzaku's guts clench with something he refused to acknowledge as desire. He could see himself mirrored in her eyes, and understood that Aurora was more truly his match in this arena than anyone he'd ever met, or would likely ever meet. When it became glaringly apparent that neither of them could wriggle out of it or deepen their holds enough to strangle the other into submission, they simultaneously exploded apart like shrapnel from a bomb blast.

Aurora gained her feet first, but, after a breathless moment of silence, Suzaku moved first. In that blazing lunge for each other, the masks fell away like ash. What was the point of pretending with each other? Not when they recognized what burned through their opponent, a fire that engulfed nerves like they'd been slicked with oil. Not when it scorched inside their own blood, a burning desire to succeed in battle. There was something… wild in the air, as ancient as conflict and carried on the echo of rattling sabers.

For one precious moment, Suzaku felt it unfurl inside him – the knowing, the sweet sureness of seeing every movement as if it was a world drenched in honey. Quiet, gold light lit everything, from Aurora's meteor eyes to the soft shine of her hair to the glimmer of sweat along her collarbone.

Understanding lit his brain like glaring lightbulbs. She was becoming reckless. She was losing focus. She was tiring. The signs would have been invisible to anyone else, but they seemed blatant to Suzaku now. And, like the ruthless bastard he was, he took full advantage of it.

Impossibly, he ratcheted his speed even higher. It was so easy, in that soft gold world, where everything slowed, and he could move with a deliberation that inevitably doomed his targets. He leapt and twisted, turning Aurora's strategy back onto her. And when he had her thoroughly boxed, he wrapped his arm around her throat, and yanked back tight.

Now, as immersed in the match as he was, Suzaku hadn't completely lost hold of himself. He'd allowed just enough time and, true to his expectation, Aurora had managed to worm a hand under his arm to protect her trachea before he'd squeezed the flesh noose around her. It was no less than he'd expected, but he was still impressed. Whoever had trained her had done a spectacular job.

Dragged back against him as she was, it was impossible to Suzaku to miss the panic that raced through her body like a current. Ready to cede his win, unwilling to be the cause of such fear in her, he was just about to loose his hold when he felt the reaction dissipate, leaving her muscles slack. Relieved but not fooled, he waited, knowing that it was inevitably coming.

And come it did, like the pissed-off coil of a trapped python. She brought every available limb to bear, twisted and hurled against him in a violent bid for escape. Reaching back with her free hand, Aurora latched her fingers against the back his neck. When she rolled back against him, Suzaku compensated with his stance to take more of her weight. So well, in fact, that when she locked her confined hand around his wrist and heaved forward with her entire body, she took them both tumbling to the ground. Deeply and thoroughly grateful for the mat as his right shoulder blade slammed to the floor, Suzaku quickly recalculated, perpetuating the momentum Aurora had begun, continuing their grappling, messy roll until he loomed over her. It didn't occur to Suzaku, not right away. The way he had her pinned to the mat like a butterfly in a display – knees braced to the floor beside her hips, his weight tipped forward to the trap her hands above her head, his feet hooked over her knees to prevent any reprisals from those long, tricky legs.

When the implications snickered through his brain, he froze, locking Aurora to the floor as he helplessly breathed her in. Her eyes were like the northern oceans – if he tumbled in, could he ever swim his way clear? Did he even want to? True to her nature, Aurora hadn't yet given up; she writhed and wriggled, but couldn't dislodge Suzaku's hold. He saw the struggle, the unwillingness to give up. It reinforced the bone-deep respect Suzaku had for her. When his thumbs stroked over the pulsing, satin-soft inside of her wrists, he couldn't say why he had done it. But Aurora stilled, so thoroughly that the only movement was her fast breathing, staring at him with a depth that almost undid him. Then, she smiled up at Suzaku with such obvious joy, the warmth from her expression bloomed through him like a sun.

"I yield, you great big bloody bastard," she said with a hearty laugh. "I hate to see it end, but you took me down, true enough. Jesus, that was a gorgeous fight."

He helped her up, and, stupidly, the pair of them dissolved into laughter. Hooking her arm over his shoulders companionably, which had his looping around her waist in return, they managed to keep each other on their feet as they howled and giggled. What was so funny, Suzaku had no idea. But it was enough to make them breathless.

That's what he saw when he raised his eyes to the bank of mirrors – the pair of them, linked and laughing, sweaty and obviously a little loopy from the rush of adrenaline and endorphins. He didn't see how the day could get any better than this.

It suddenly did when Aurora turned her head and pressed a warm kiss to Suzaku's flushed cheek.

Howdy kids! Yes, we have finally breathed the awesome, sweaty air of sparring. I've been wanting to type this out for, oh, ever, and I'm really quite pleased with how it came out. Yes, Suzaku, kick ass. It is what you were born for. Three songs appeared in this chapter – check out my profile for a listing of what they were, if you haven't guessed it already.

I realized we haven't done this in quite a while, but I figured we'd do some catching up. Another voice actor announcement. Cast your minds back to the first chapter – I know. Long, long time ago. The head of covert operations, the man who orchestrated the hit on Zero – Justice Havens. We have not seen the last of him, and I'm excited for what he'll bring to the story in the future. Commander Havens would be voiced by Mr. Matthew Mercer in my mind. Yes, the lovely voice of Levi would be acting as my ultimate spy. Really, how could I resist? Any other characters you're curious about? If they're original, named characters of mine, then they have a voice actor assigned. Even a few interesting characters who were never named have a voice that plays through my head.

Everyone who reviewed – you're absolutely awesome. You guys keep me going, keep me focused and reassured. I appreciate every single one of you (yes, even the grumpy douchebag from a few chapters ago) for taking the time to let me know what you think of Phoenix. Read on and review, rockstars.

Hope you like it!

Love, Tango