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Gary shuffled into the quiet kitchen in his robe and boxers. Sheila had already shuttled off for the day, and Malcolm, unsurprisingly had yet to rise. Gary appreciated this window of time each day, before his boss started following him around, harping his orders and commiserations at him.
A bowl of dry cereal in one hand, he opened the fridge to grab the milk. He nudged it shut again with his elbow, turned, and startled, throwing his cereal everywhere with a yelp as he found himself facing a female figure with a switch knife.
“WHA—Whoah!, Who the hell are--?!”
The woman snickered wickedly. A practiced, devilish and sexy laugh. A professional villain for sure, thought Gary. “Is the Blue Morpho home?” Molotov asked, her Russian accent dripping over the words like thick, sweet, syrup.
“I, uh, what? No! You have the wrong house lady!” said Gary, thinking on his feet.
“Somehow I doubt that.” She stepped closer, backing him against the counter and threatening his throat with the knife. Gary’s hands rose defensively, still holding an empty bowl in one hand and a carton of milk in the other.
“I uh, seriously don’t know what you’re talking about,” He felt so unarmed. No costume, no armor, no backup. He wasn’t about to yell for Malcolm and risk revealing his identity to this, probably assassin, woman.
“Don’t insult me,” her knife touched his neck, “Kano.”
“What do you want?” Gary asked, still trying to act like a guy who just thought he was being robbed.
“Your Partner. Where is he?”
Gary’s eyes flicked down at her wrist and back to her. He knew this move. He’d done it in his karate classes. Was going to be a little tricky with a carton of milk and bowl but –
In a flash, He smashed her hand and wrist, whacking her hand open and sending her knife, and everything Gary had held, violently away. She looked surprised a moment, but he showed no mercy, charging against her, intending to force her back against the kitchen island where he could control her.
Seeming to anticipate his plan, she found enough of a footing to spring upward just before he could pin her there. She landed, seated on the island top and wrapped her legs around him, laughing, amused. With her free hand she smoothed back his hair, and caressed down to his jaw,
“Oh, Kano, such a loyal guard dog you are.” She said in a pitying tone. He snatched her hand form his face and forced it against her chest with the other, then made a point of squeezing both her wrists. She responded with a squeeze of her thighs, and a smirk that asked, ‘do you really think you’re in control?’
This chick had style. He couldn’t help but think it. And man, that costume... her tits were like, nearly out. How did she even keep that on?
She suddenly rocked back, shooting her arms high above her head, pulling him prone, doubled over her, with his face planting into her chest. He released her hands instinctively to catch himself. With her hands free, she grasped his hair and cranked his head back aggressively. Gary yelled in surprise and pain, grabbing at her hand and wrestling to distance himself.
Molotov wrapped one leg around his shoulder, and threw herself forward onto him. The pair rolled from the table and tumbled to the floor. Gary landed sharply on his side, but Molotov landed catlike on her feet, crouched over him, still holding his hair.
“Where is he?” She demanded coolly in his ear. Gary attempted a blind swing at her, but she dodged easily and pinned the offending hand to the ground.
‘How much could this woman weigh?’ He thought as he struggled. ‘She can’t pin me! I just need to get the right leverage...’ But that was exactly the problem. She knew how to keep him from ever finding any.
Gary managed to roll himself to his back. He lurched into a move he was not sure he was flexible enough for, swinging his leg in a wide arc and bringing it down between them in a powerful axe kick that threw his opponent off him at last. He knew already he would feel that one for a few days.
He scrambled for his feet, as did she. The two sized each other up, panting. She smiled, “I was not expecting that kind of move from you, tubby boy,” she teased.
The struggle had left Gary roasting in his thick robe. He shucked it off, striking a ready stance. Adrenaline and the hot sting of her little fat-dig had his face flushed and furious.
“What’s going on?! Who the hell is that?” Malcolm’s confused voice interrupted from behind Mol. Her head whipped to see him, but Gary lurched forward and struck her with a fierce jab before she could turn around to get a good look. She stumbled back, returning her attention to him.
“Tranq gun! Now!” Gary shouted to Malcolm, assuming he was probably watching dumbfounded as he often did.
“Right! Er, On it!” Gary heard his partner shout as he traded a few more well deflected blows with the intruder.
Then, out of no where, boom. He was looking at the other end of the room and didn’t know why. Her boot had struck him in the temple so hard, he blacked out for a few milliseconds. He felt as if the whole world had suddenly turned a quarter turn, but left him behind. He stumbled a few steps across a wobbling, floor, holding his head, as his brain struggled to re-orient him. Another boot at the crook of his knee dropped him to a kneeling position, catching himself with both hands to stop from face planting completely.
She pivoted on her heeled boot to pursue her true target. He threw himself at her leg before it left his sight, wrapping around her to drag her down with him as he fell. She yelped, then groaned in frustration, rolling to bring down a hammer fist across his face.
Gary yelped at the sharp pain to his nose, but held firm, turning his face defensively away from her. She landed another hammer fist, this time to his clavicle. That. Fucking. Hurt. With his free hand, he grasped at her face, not really sure what he was doing, just trying to fight back without loosing his grip on her leg. She yanked at her leg, failing to free it, then rained blows down on him mercilessly. His ears, his face, his clavicle again, everything exposed to her.
Then he noticed that she’d freed her other leg from under him, just in time to see it flex impressively high over her head—and come down on his.
He came-to from this second bout of disorientation, to find that she’d slipped from his grip completely. She rolled deftly to her feet. She looked down, satisfied with her work. Her boots slinked through his vision with a catlike grace, as she bent briefly to retrieve her knife.
Everything hurt. Gary weakly tried to right himself, but stopped when he felt the toe of her boot press into the side of his neck. She twirled the knife between her fingers and lowered herself toward him, easing her weight onto the boot. “If you don’t stay down like a good dog…” she cooed. Gary choked and gasped, starting to grab for her ankle, but her knife warned him to stop. “I will put you down.”
The heel of her boot started needling into his neck. He swatted desperately at the knife, grasping and clawing at her boot, wriggling what strength he had left in his body against her in any way he could. The edges of his vision sparkled into darkness. When suddenly--.
Fwthp! Fwthp, fwthp! A much welcomed and familiar sound of tranq darts announced that the Blue Morpho had finally joined the fight. The pressure on his neck changed as the woman applying it became an unconscious heap, sprawled across him.
Gary shoved her foot away and sucked in a grateful gasp of air and lay a moment heaving.
“Woah! Sick!” exclaimed Malcolm. “Man, you have it lucky, how come I never get attacked by seductive ninja women?”
“Well, technically," Gary panted" you just did.” Gary struggled, wishing his boss would, maybe, help him out from under the ‘seductive ninja woman.' “She was here for you, I just got in the way.”
Gary only managed to free himself partially before needing to flop down and pant again, utterly spent. Malcolm finally noticed that Gary probably didn’t want to lay around on the cereal covered floor in his underwear anymore, and grabbed the rag-dolled assassin by the arm to help.
Gary brought himself up to sitting, and brushed a few cereal crumbs from his belly.
"Man, Oh man! She totally wrecked you. You're totally wrecked!" Malcolm had meant more to express how intense the fight must have been, but as usual it came out as more of an insult. Gary was too exhausted to care.
"Holy Shit." Gary sighed breathlessly, as he deflated to sink against the cabinets behind him.