Buildings and bridges are made to bend in the wind to withstand the world...
A car loaded with teenagers pulls up in front of the Conrad. Finding parking in downtown Chicago is never easy, and Buffy is not willing to wait. She springs out of the car and races into the lobby - only to realize that while she knows the basement is where they keep the wanderers, she has no idea how to get there. Um.
The Doctor is wandering ( Read more... )
The Doctor is wandering ( Read more... )
If that's not what you need, you're getting it anyway. Sark's had it up to here with the universe and to deal with that, he is seeking out a sparring partner, preferably a Sydney, because at least they're generally evenly matched and between the fact that she's out of practice (probably) and he feels like someone punched him repeatedly, they'll somehow make wonderful sparring partners.
This is the idea anyway.
"Dare I ask when the last time you've had any practice was?" He asks, dropping the stick on the ground in front of her, clearly not particularly caring that this might disturb the cat. He is more important.
He is also wearing a turtleneck. DO NOT QUESTION THE TURTLENECK.
Reply
"Are you asking to spar with me, or are you only asking in order to weigh the odds of me kicking your ass if you just hit me with that thing?" With Sark, you really can't be too sure. Because he couldn't just ask like a normal person, no.
Reply
Yes. Yes, he does want you to spar with him. Asking is for other people.
Reply
"Did you have a place in mind?" You know, unless he really thinks it's a good idea to start hitting each other with sticks out in the street, but people tend to get alarmed about things like that.
Reply
He shoulders the stick and jerks his head in a direction. "There's an empty lot I've been commandeering for this purpose just over that way." And he is doing a wonderful job of not showing how relieved he is that she's not putting up a fight about this- really there are only so many people who are on his level. Either they kick his ass or they're not good enough. Happy mediums are good to have.
....Also he just likes fighting with Sydney. It's a thing. A thing no one should question too much. Get used to this, Syd. It will not go away. Ever.
He uses the stick to wave her forwards with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Shall we?"
Reply
It surprises her to realize how excited she is about getting the chance to spar with someone, how much she missed it. And now that she thinks about it, Sark probably knew she would have missed it. She can't decide whether that annoys her or not.
Reply
Of course, asking that much is pointless when he already knows the answer. Sark's a little bitch and has never pretended to be anything else. It's just so much fun to annoy her. ...One of these days it will occur to him that he treats her like an obnoxious older brother treats his big sister and will have to sit down and ponder that for awhile.
Reply
She knows perfectly well he's trying to aggravate her, and she's doing her best not to rise to the bait. She'd be almost willing to bet he hasn't had much more practice than her, at least not with an opponent, because who else would agree to spar with him?
Reply
He strolls into the lot, which, honestly, if his intentions were less than innocent, it probably would be isolated enough to commit murder.
And this doesn't go unnoticed by Sark who takes the moment to roll his eyes after giving it a quick glance around, "Before you say anything about the location, I hesitate to remind you that I don't actually want you dead, which should should be rather obvious by now."
Reply
Sydney doesn't find you scary, Sark. Just aggravating.
Reply
Sark twirls his stick in one hand, shifts it to the other in one fluid movement and then grabs it with both hands to mimic Sydney. Yes, he's a bit of a show-off.
"Of course not. I'm much more elegant than that."
He bows. There's... Something eerily familiar about this. It might come to him in a minute. He always sort of had an assumption about that woman in Denpasar...
Reply
She waits, for just a second, locking eyes with him as her smirk grows just a little more, and then lunges, driving the end of the stick toward his solar plexus. It's not like it's sharp, but it would probably hurt a hell of a lot if it made contact.
Reply
Aside from the faint twinge of the bruises on his chest when he moves a certain way, he can almost forget there are a thousand things he ought to be worried about right now.
He steadies himself and lunges in turn, taking a swing at the direction of her head- easily ducked, but he's not really fighting to make contact... Not at the present moment, anyway. Give it a moment.
Reply
But the immediate rush of adrenaline, the strain of muscles out of use for too long... Sydney's enjoying this just as much as he is, though her expression is determined and focused. Out of practice as she is, her movements are a bit slower and less precise than Sark may be used to, but that's nothing beside the sheer pleasure of doing this again, something so familiar and instinctive and right that everything just flows, easy as breathing.
She sidesteps and ducks at the same time, whipping one end of her stick up to block the blow while the other end moves down and toward him, to strike at the back of his knee.
Reply
This... This really is what he's missed all this time. The adrenaline, the thrill, the feeling that he might actually win, but if he doesn't, the loss won't be devastating. God, he's needed this. Badly. If he weren't usually so maniacally cheerful in the middle of a decent fight, there's really no reason for him not to be right now.
Reply
She blocks the strikes, falling into a calm, detached space where she's not actively anticipating the blows, just reacting, until one strike slips sideways past her parry, hitting her stick in a glancing blow and striking her hip. Sydney winces just a little and pivots away - it hurts, but not enough to make her even slow down.
She lunges forward and whips her stick in an arc, from a low guard to the side of his head, her eyes locked on his face as she does.
Reply
Leave a comment