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The worn mat provided an unsteady surface for her feet, and Crowe flexed her fingers at her sides, looking at no one and trying not to let her nervousness show up in her expression. The instructor’s voice was stern.
“All right. You’re mages, but that doesn’t mean that you get out of learning basic self-defense. Watch, imitate, and learn. Those of you who’ve fought before are probably used to resorting to cheap shot fighting, but you’re going to learn how to do it right.”
Crowe’s eyes narrowed. “Cheap shot fighting” had always proved superior, in her experience, especially in the dark corners of the world where fighting really mattered, and especially when you were smaller than almost everyone.
Elea demonstrated a basic throw, and paired them off to try it on one another. Crowe crouched into the unfamiliar hold, and then when her partner was about to throw her, yanked the other woman down to the mat by her blonde hair, delivering a sharp kick on the way. Her partner glared up at her, slightly winded.
“Sorry, instinct.” And also this is stupid. Crowe’s chin lifted defiantly at the instructor. Elea marched over briskly and separated them. “Unacceptable. This happens again and you can look forward to three demerits and a five-mile hike with a ten-pound pack. Do it right.” Crowe scowled, but lowered her eyes to her feet and nodded. Seriously, like this fancy spinning is going to help me when someone’s trying to claw my eyes out?
Elea let them continue to practice with one another. She excused herself briefly, and returned with two senior students. Crowe knew them both. Tredd’s epically gross jokes had somehow welcomed her to the bizarre little family that was the waitstaff at the Crossbones faster than anything else. She grinned at him, eager to see him flipped to the mat by -
Aranea. Crowe’s discomfort swelled in her chest. So the cute older girl who’d bothered to ask her to hang out after work was going to get to see what a grubby little street punk she was. Great.
“Some of you seem to need a little - convincing - that the methods you’re learning are worthwhile. Please take a look.”
Crowe was stunned by Aranea, despite, or maybe because of, her simple training gear. Crowe tried to look everywhere else, but her eyes returned to the long, firm shape of thighs underneath tight black fabric. She felt her eyes widen at the contrast between pale skin and black shirt, and felt her gaze pulled magnetically to the round shape of breasts curving under the stretch of a tank top. She felt her lips grow extremely dry and realized licking them would be a complete giveaway, but was unable to avoid it. Crowe knew she was blushing, and the smirk she was getting from Tredd let her know she’d never hear the end of this at work.
Aranea and Tredd circled one another, knowing glances making it clear that they’d done this dance before. Aranea feinted, and Tredd flinched. She took the advantage and threw him, using the precise move they’d been studying. He laughed from the mat and took her hand, springing back to his feet. She slapped him on the back and they smiled.
“Good? Now, if any of you think underhanded methods are still the better ones, I’m sure these experienced students would be happy to disabuse you of that notion.”
Crowe stayed quiet, attempting not to draw any attention to herself, but Elea had not forgotten her earlier antics. She led Aranea over to her.
“Aranea, this is Crowe, one of our first-year mages. Crowe, Aranea is a senior and one of our best with hand-to-hand. Enjoy your lesson.” Elea’s voice reprimanded her as she leaned back and crossed her arms.
Aranea smiled. Crowe took a deep breath and crouched into the pose they’d been taught. As Aranea circled her though, her heart beat too hard and too fast in her chest. She dropped out of the stance they’d been taught and lunged forward to drop a shoulder into Aranea’s ribs.
Aranea was ready for it, and swept Crowe’s feet out from under her, pinning her instantly with an arm wrapped around her neck. The skin touching her neck was soft, and smelled a little bit like sweat and a little bit like some kind of flower. Jasmine, maybe? Crowe pondered it, and Aranea laughed at her distraction.
“Street tactics will only get you so far. There’s a reason to learn this stuff,” she grinned. Crowe just stared at the silvery strands hanging in her eyes. It was a safe thing to look at, safer than focusing on the press of hips against hers, or the divot of collarbone that was so close to her face. She wondered briefly what it would feel like to brush her lips against it, and the thought paralyzed her for a moment.
Aranea eased off Crowe and offered her a hand up. Crowe glowered and scrambled back up unassisted. “Thanks. I get it.” She shot a resentfully apologetic glance at Elea and walked back over to her assigned partner. As she watched Aranea leave, she wished she hadn’t. The rear view in those leggings was just as dangerous as the rest. Crowe rolled her shoulders and attempted to clear her head, and was immediately thrown by her partner. As her head bounced off the mat, she laughed ruefully. Ass kicked by my own libido, that’s a new one.
Aranea opened her locker and rummaged through for her towel. She grinned to herself, remembering the hour before. It wasn’t so terribly long ago that Ulric had schooled her in almost exactly the same way, and she laughed a little, remembering, as she unbraided her hair. The feisty, scrappy determination Crowe had shown on the mat had done nothing to cool Aranea’s rapidly growing crush. She admitted to herself that she’d enjoyed pinning Crowe, too. She hoped she’d get an opportunity to talk to her again in a less-crowded room.
Aranea thought over potential strategies for making that happen as she rounded the corner to the shower. The locker room was pretty much deserted, and it looked like she might have the place to herself. Many of the cadets went home to shower after this last class of the day. A small noise distracted her, and as her gaze flicked over, she immediately darted back behind the tiled wall.
She hadn't at all planned on having to shower with Crowe, but that was apparently going to happen now. It's just a body, she tried to tell herself. We've all got one; don't make this weird.
But it was a body she'd already spent a few nights imagining, and seeing it all so soon felt like cheating. She took a deep breath. Keep it together, Highwind.
“Hey.” She tried to keep her tone businesslike as she hung up her towel and picked a shower. Not the one right next to Crowe, but not the one furthest away, either. She didn't want to look like a coward.
“Hey.” Crowe kept it short and turned her back on Aranea, which helped a little bit. Just a little.
“Good job picking up that throw.”
“Thanks. Good job kicking Tredd’s ass.”
Aranea laughed, a little nervously. She tried to keep her eyes forward, but the gentle curve of the side of a round breast was just visible in her peripheral vision, water droplets tracing over the surface like a soft touch.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Crowe turn the water off. Dark, wet strands trailed down her back, and Aranea wrenched her eyes away.
Back at the lockers, Crowe was lacing up a boot as a towel-clad Aranea combed through her hair.
“Hey, I need to go into town tomorrow morning to pick up some stuff for class I didn't have. You wanna come?” Her eyes were on her boot.
“Sure, that'd be great. I can pick you up on my bike.” Aranea grinned, happy to have been beaten to the punch.
Crowe laughed. “You're always pulling rank around here. Why don't you let me pick you up? Bring your helmet though.”
“Ok. I'm in Archaean. Ten?”
Crowe winked in response and slung her bag over her shoulder, swinging out of the locker room.
Aranea, still in a towel, sat down on the wooden bench, amused at how starry-eyed she was. Tomorrow, and the prospect of riding through the wind behind that gorgeous girl, couldn't come fast enough.