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Rated: · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1629056
A brief short story that is a companion piece to my novel (part of an FBI series)
The Fight
Takes place during the novel Waiting.


McLaughlin leaned against the wall, keeping the rubber mat well in sight. Brockman stood to his left, Hellbrook was on his right. They kept their eyes trained on the two combatants.

The fight hadn’t started yet. Fin ran one eye down his favorite competitor, taking in the tight white t-shirt that clung to smallish curves, to deep red hair tied back with a simple hair band. Her shorts were tiny, and dark, with white stripes running up each side. They did little to cover her ass.

Her opponent was dressed just as simply, though a sheen of expensiveness covered her. Georgia Dennis wore her background just as clearly as the redhead did.

It surprised him they were such close friends. The Princess and the Pauper. But they were, and from all accounts, were fiercely loyal and protective of one another.

He looked at Brockman, who watched the two women with a light of indulgence in his eyes. “They really do this?”

“Twice a week.” Brockman nodded. “They say it keeps them on their toes, but I think it’s more than that.”

“Why are we here again?” Hellbrook demanded. Fin knew he demanded a lot of things. It was just his nature. He wondered quickly if the larger man was an only child.

“So the two of you will stop doubting their capabilities.” Brockman said. “They’re the best I’ve got. At shooting, at hand-to-hand, strategy, and profiling. Together, they are probably one of the best partnerships in the Bureau. They’re about to start, so watch.”

Fin watched Ana and Dennis bow slightly toward each other, their right hands both rising to grasp the other’s elbows briefly. Ana said something to the other woman, in a language he didn’t understand. Dennis smiled, nodded, her own expression taunting.

Then as if coordinated by an unseen puppeteer, the two women launched. Ana’s feet left the ground in a one-two graceful kick that shouted restrained power to Fin’s experienced eye.

Dennis wasn’t as aggressive, remaining cool as she countered. She waited for Ana to come to her, sneaking in blows when Ana was most vulnerable.

“They’re good.” Fin said. “When did Ana learn?”

“About nine years ago, I think. George has a few more years on her.” Brockman watched the fight. “But Ana’s a little more aggressive.”

Dennis took the offensive. Ana hit the mat. Fin winced reflexively. Dennis stepped back as Ana hopped to her feet. Fin watched money change hands in the small crowd of men who watched. “They bet on them?”

“Yes. Whoever scores the first point. And whoever finishes.” Brockman smiled. “According to our odds keeper, Tompkins, they’re currently tied overall. It happens that way. They are pretty well evenly matched.”

“Dammit. That’s got to hurt.” Hellbrook said, as the trio watched Dennis take a shot straight to the left knee. She didn’t stay down long, bouncing back to her feet gracefully.

She reminded Fin of a dancer, while Ana was more a whirlwind. Ana ducked, a good thing as Dennis had taken a more aggressive move. Ana brought her down.

“How long do they do this to each other?” Hellbrook asked.

“There’s a time limit of fifteen minutes. If they’re both still standing it’s a draw.” Brockman kept his eyes trained on his two fighters, a light of indulgence in his eyes.

“Ana’s happy with you, isn’t she?” Fin demanded.

“I would assume so. Ana’s quite complex, you know that. Wounded. But she’s a part of my team. An integral part, her and Georgia.” Brockman turned to him fully. “Why do you ask? Something I should know?”

“No.” How was he to put it, Fin wondered. Should he tell this man who obviously cared about Ana that nine years ago Fin had blamed her for the injury to his hand? Blamed her and took that anger out on her? She’d been so young, not even twenty-four, and so…insecure. And he’d battered at every defense she’d had, ripping her to shreds, doing a number on her entire sense of identity. And he’d done it on purpose. Deliberately. Cruelly.

And she was still so insecure. He hadn’t missed it; he was a seasoned behavioral analyst. He knew she looked at women like her friend Dennis, looked at some of the women in the unit, and found herself wanting. And it made him angry, mostly at himself. He remembered how she’d been her very first week with his team back then. How her eyes had sparkled with enthusiasm, naivety, and youth. How those eyes had dragged him in, made him aware of her every breath, every sigh, every smile.

Didn’t she see that she was just as special, just as beautiful as Dennis?

He also remembered that it had been him that was responsible for that light leaching from her eyes. Remembered how she’d looked when he’d cornered her in the supply closet, kept her trapped between him and a stack of computer paper. How he’d told her just exactly how he’d felt about her.

He remembered how she’d trembled against him. How those eyes had filled with tears, how she’d bit that bottom lip to keep it from trembling. How he’d berated her, calling her a baby, a child. Told her to go home where she belonged.

God, he’d been a bastard that day.

Dennis was down, Ana the clear victor, and the crowd broke into applause. Ana helped her friend up and they took a bow, playing to their audience. Fin wondered briefly if it was the draw of the fight that drew the men to watch, or if it was the sight of two very beautiful, very sexy women in gym clothes battling it out, showing off two perfectly toned bodies.

He’d lay money on the second option.

Ana’s face was flushed, her skin glowing with sweat, and he wondered briefly what she’d look like beneath him with that same sexy shine. God, he wanted that. And he’d have it, he decided.

And then she looked at him, and her eyes flickered, she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. Dennis said something, her own eyes flicking in Fin’s direction. He didn’t miss the look of protectiveness that flashed over the brunette’s face.

Dennis knew, he realized, knew exactly why Ana hated him.

And from the way Dennis glared in his direction—his and not Hellbrook’s—it was obvious she wanted nothing more than to kick Fin in the ass.

And Fin almost felt like he should let her.

(To read an the first two chapters of the novel "Waiting" visit my website at http://bglashbrooks.com.)
© Copyright 2009 BGLashbrooks (fotobridget at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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