darker_london | A fool's devotion was set in motion

In the backyard of the Vatican, Flick had set up her boxing bag. Some days she forgot it was there and would note it looking forlorn in the rain while she made coffee in the kitchen. Other days she could hardly be torn away, letting out all her energy and frustrations on that heavy dead weight. Some days she looked out there and found Davis. His arms were very distracting when he punched and she liked when he looked so focused.

She was running out of excuses to deny him what he wanted: to try being a hunter.

It wasn't that she disapproved of the lifestyle - obviously that wasn't the case, as Flick couldn't even make herself pull back from it when she tried. But hunting, as great as it was, was a career with a short lifespan, and while that always seemed okay for Flick - she'd never expected anything more - it wasn't what she wanted for Davis. Flick wanted Davis to live a long and happy life but... well, Flick wanted to be in it. And she wanted him to understand better her own life.

Dropping her hands in front of the punching bag, Flick leaned forward to press her forehead against it. Yep. Time to do it.

When she leaned in Davis' doorway she was still breathing hard, her ponytail sweaty and messy. "Do you still want to go hunting?"

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Davis had a very sweaty girlfriend, which he liked quite a lot. He was obviously bias, but she looked great sweaty. She acted pretty great when she was sweaty, as well. They'd had a bunch of sweaty fun times since they had got together, although they'd also had a few horrifying sweaty times as well. Couldn't forget about those.

So when she appeared like a sweaty vision in his doorway, he said, "Yes, I do still want to do that." He knew he was only human, not super strong and flightful like Alannah or immortal like Lucas, but hey, humans were pretty great at finding ways to survive, and Davis wanted more chances to make this world easier to survive for human who weren't as clued up as him about the world's supernatural underbelly.

"Okay," Flick told him, leaning a little more heavily against the doorframe. It felt settled. She'd sort of hoped that Davis would say he'd changed his mind.

"Okay," she said again and then added, "then put on something that can get sweaty or bloody. We're going to see how you fight."

"Aw yeah!" Davis grinned, pulling his shirt off over his head to exchange it for an older one. He thundered down the stairs after Flick, wrapping his arms around her from behind when he caught up with her.

Flick wanted to be serious and John-like about this but Davis was so adorable and she ended up giggling a little when he got hold of her, pressing her head back against his chest affectionately.

"You big dork," Flick told him, pulling him outside by the hand. On the grass she turned to look at him a little more seriously. "Okay, so show me what you've got. Come at me, like you're actually going to kill me."

"Alright," Davis slid back into what he thought was a pretty decent fighting pose. He hadn't needed to do much fighting in his life, he was almost always bigger and stronger than other kids at school, which put them off. He'd wrestled as a hobby in high school, but since he'd left high school as soon as he legally could he'd only wrestled with mates since then. He could still pin Cooper, which wasn't a huge accomplishment, and he could get the best of Lucas roughly half the time. Lucas fought dirty, though, despite being smaller than Davis. Or probably because he was smaller than Davis.

Flick was even smaller than Lucas, and though Davis knew she could hold her own in a fight, it was different when he was the one attacking her. He wasn't going to come at her like he was actually trying to kill her, as she'd asked. That was crazy.

He might be able to wrestle her to the ground and pin her, though. Davis was pretty sure he could manage that.

He looked for a way in through her defenses, and when he thought he'd spotted one, he went for her.

Oh Davis, Davis, Davis. It was almost cute but she had to remember that he wasn't some cute little kitten and almost cute would get him flat out ripped apart. Hell, hunters got ripped apart even when they were the very best at what they did, so there was no good being rubbish at it.

When Davis lunged, Flick sidestepped and - partly to teach him a lesson - threw out a leg to trip him over. "You telegraph your moves a mile off," she told him with a sigh.

Davis tripped but caught himself before he could fall, spinning around as quickly as he could in case she was plowing in while his back was turned.

Alright then, how did you stop telegraphing your moves? Davis tried to put on his best poker face. He was excellent at poker. He lunged in again.

This time Flick grabbed his arm as he came at her, using his momentum so that she could spin him, pinning his arm hard against his back. (So maybe a little harder than she needed to, but she was going easy on him compared to the way she and her brothers had learned!) "This arm," she said, giving it another little uncomfortable shove into him. "Don't drop it like that when to move."

"Oof," said Davis, glad his back was to Flick so she couldn't see him wince. "Alright," he said, shaking her off. "So what, should I come at you again the same way without dropping the arm, or shall I try and fail to surprise you again?"

"You have to learn to either not show me what you're going to do," Flick said, feigning left before moving in right, pinning one arm to his side and grabbing his throat, "or make me think you're going to do something else."

"Okay," Davis said, trying to look at her hand around his throat but that was impossible because it was his throat, so adopting a slightly desperate look instead. "You wanna show me how to do that?"

"I think so?" Flick said, releasing his neck, hoping she hadn't just hurt him. "I've never had to teach before," she admitted, brushing her hands down on her shorts. "And I learned all this stuff when I was young and, uh, like not in super unbruising ways?"

Davis restrained himself from rubbing his throat; it hadn't hurt that bad, and it didn't need soothing.

She brushed her hands on her shorts which meant her arms were down - Davis shot himself forward and wrapped his arms around her body, pinning her arms to the side. "Ha," he said in triumph, lifting her up off her feet.

Flick's first response was to hit him, but she fought that automatic reaction and instead found herself grinning proudly. "Very nice," Flick told him, because she was pretty sure encouragement was good for teaching.

"So what do I do with you now?" He asked, with a grin in his voice as he swung her back and forth, keeping her up in the air.

"You could kiss me," Flick told him with a smile, "and then you could either put me down or I could break free."

She gave such excellent choices, that was one of the reasons Davis liked Flick. So reasonable and fair. He did kiss her, because it was hard not to, then chose option one of putting her down nicely.

"Promise I won't be picking up evil things and kissing them to disarm them," Davis thought he should probably add.

"Good idea," Flick said, "cause it probably won't work. But," Flick grinned as she remembered it, "it's not a few times that I've been Sexy Bait. Even monsters sometimes can't resist the idea of easy tail. Like, there was this incubus up Aberdeen way and the boys thought- actually, not important, I don't think we're going to ever need you to be sexy bait."

"Dad always taught me that once the fight starts, you don't talk," Flick told him. "Clench your jaw, because then blows to the face are less likely to break your jaw or teeth and you might not bite your tongue off too." Not that Flick ever did that, because Flick could never stop herself from saying something sarcastic or gloating or complaining during a fight.

Davis pulled a face that clearly said: Gross. Your brothers are gross. I know what they thought and that is just gross.

Instead of speaking, because she'd told him not to, he nodded, his jaw clenched up.

Goddamn gross brothers.

"Okay," she said, glad he was taking it seriously. "Now forget the bullshit movies say about letting the other guy make the first move. No. Make the first move and make it count. A punch to the throat, knee or kick to the genitals, the eyes, the temple, the chin. Got those?"

"If you're up against someone dancing around like some kind of fairy, then don't watch their face. They want to fake you out." She pointed at her eyes as she bounced side to side on her heals. "Focus on their body instead." She moved her hand low, pressing it against her upper stomach. "With women, watch the stomach, with men watch the chest. Usually that's where each gender carries their centre of gravity and it has trouble lying to you."

Davis had been starting to bounce around on the balls of his feet like some kind of fairy, but slowed it down. "Okay, show me what your stomach looks like when you're about to do something?"

Flick nodded and then began bouncing across in front of him again, raising her fists in a fighting stance. "Okay, so I'm gonna throw a left hook, but I'm going to feint a right hook. But if I want it to be a good blow, then I need to have my centre of gravity working for me. Power comes from the body, not from the fist."

She bounced back from him another step so she wouldn't hurt his pretty face, and then faked the right punch before quickly putting her real force behind her left fist. "You see the body correction? The way my stomach and hips don't follow the first movement?" She did it again to make sure he'd noted it. "Sometimes the body won't move much so you won't spot it, but that's gonna be okay because there won't be as much force behind it when they hit you anyway."

"Fuck, but you're hot," Davis said.

He'd noted her movements. He really had! But he'd noticed with more than just his sensible forward planning brain, the one that had concocted great, dramatic and dangerous situations he'd struggle to fight his way out of but emerge victorious at the last.

Flick did not blush! She did not blush!

"Focus," Flick told him, steering him back to the point at hand. "I should really find out how you throw a punch before any of this. Okay," she said, changing track, "I want you to hit me."

"Uh," said Davis, but he didn't protest because, he figured, if he refused to hit her she'd probably just hit him instead. So he gave it a go, although all of his instincts told him it was wrong; even though she had told him to, and was ready, she was still his small girlfriend and he'd been raised not to go around punching small girlfriends.

He danced around on the balls of his feet for a bit, feinted a couple of times and eventually punched her in the arm.

Flick blinked at him, unimpressed. "wow," she deadpanned, "you really tried to flat out murder me right there. Are you uncomfortable with the idea of hitting me?"

"Kinda," he said, like it was obvious. "Don't look at me like that, I know I shouldn't be," he made a face at himself, then shook himself out, cracked his knuckles. He was being stupid; Flick could handle it, he knew it. He lashed out again, quickly, still pulling his punches but this time not quite as much.

By instinct she ducked out of the way of the blow, forgetting that she'd wanted to test his strength. She was pleased that he'd gone to hit her properly though. There was hope for him yet, and Flick thought it showed he understood the importance of this whole thing.

"Good," Flick told him, trying to hold herself still instead of thinking ahead to escapes and offensives. "Remember to keep your jaw set. And watch my body."

Davis nodded sharply, set his jaw and came at her again. The fact that she hadn't flinched gave him confidence, not that he'd ever actually thought she would flinch. They went at each other, building up speed and sweat.

He even tried throwing out a kick to try and knock her legs out from underneath her but she saw through that as well and used it to throw him off balance. He looked up at her from his back on the grass, panting heavily, giving himself a moment just to lie ther but watching her carefully to see if she'd kick him while he was down.

Flick grinned down at him, her chest rising and falling with her breath, and held out a hand to him where he lay. "Not bad, rookie."

Davis grabbed her wrist as it was offered, and pull her down on top of him. He was fairly sure she was expecting that but he did it anyway, wrapping his arm around her waist once she was down and rolling to pin her to the ground so he could kiss her.

Flick was delighted in his arms and this was definitely not how any of her other sparring had ended. "You can't vanquish the rest of your enemies like this," Flick told him when she broke the kiss. "I'd be jealous."

"Aww," pouted Davis, "but I want some hot hairy weregirl action. Damn," he grinned at the look on her face and kissed her again. "Okay deal," he said, sliding muddy hands under her shirt. "These are just for you."