The Lost Girl, part eleven

Morri dropped into a fighting stance, and Chris settled warily into a matching one. He was still in his human form; a half-wolf configuration would be stronger and have a little more reach -- and claws -- but he was trained primarily as a duelist, not an infighter. Taking a half-wolf form would change the shape of his legs, and consequently the way he stood, balanced, and stepped. Morri didn't think he could damage her -- that much was obvious -- and Chris was profoundly reluctant to grapple with her. He was pretty sure that if Morri got her hands on him, he was finished. 

He moved closer, and she came in with her fists up, light on her feet... a boxer's approach. He dodged her first swing, then her second. He pulled back, then stepped in again, provoking a straight punch towards his face. 

He was already stepping offline when it came, and that was all that saved him. His attempt to brush it aside barely nudged it, and his simultaneous knuckle-strike to the inside of her upper arm felt like punching concrete. He stepped back immediately, barely getting his arms up in time to push aside her return blow. 

"Damn," Morri said, though her stance never wavered. "You are strong. I actually felt that."

He took another step back, slid into half-wolf configuration, and attacked with a series of light slashes at the edge of his reach. Morri pulled her arms back, shielding herself, but he'd expected that. If he had the range right... He was already moving back out when Morri's fist came at him like a meteor, and he still felt the bruising impact on his own forearm. She was definitely stronger than he was, and by a considerable margin. His claws had drawn blood from the backs of her forearms -- again she looked surprised -- but she hadn't been kidding when she said she was tough. Out here in the Grey, he thought she could probably shrug off bullets, at least anything short of a lucky shot. 

Then she came forward, pressing in, jabbing and swinging as he backed away. She was still using her arms, so he kept his distance and tried for a kick. 

His claws tore through her pants and drew three lines of blood just above her right knee. She stumbled briefly, but he couldn't follow through and backed away instead. He glanced around, looking for something to hit her with -- hopefully a good-sized tree, if he could lift it -- but saw nothing. 

She charged, going -- he thought -- for a tackle. He had a better measure of her strength and weight now, though, and managed to duck off to the side, cutting her ribs as she passed and tripping her into the fallen leaves. He spun and leapt, hoping to come down on her back, but she was already rolling out of the way and caught his ankle as he landed. 

He only had time for a brief moment of panic as she tried to yank him off-balance; he managed to come down straddling her, and punched down at her face. Maybe he should have used his claws, but he didn't want to risk taking out an eye -- or even damaging her features, really. 

Her head rocked back with the blow, but she still managed to catch his arm and yank him close, trapping it. Then she rolled them over so that she was on top. He tried to slide out as she repositioned herself, but she was faster and more practiced, and a moment later she had his arm and shoulder locked between her legs, his body pinned to the ground by the legs across his throat and chest. 

He could have tried biting, but she'd have dislocated his shoulder. Instead, he tapped her leg twice with his palm, and after a moment she released her lock. 

They climbed to their feet, watching each other warily. Morri looked at the slices on the back of her forearms; Chris rolled his shoulder and heard it pop. 

"All right," she said. "New rules. We take turns. I want you to hit me as hard as you can. I'll just stand here. And then you stand there while I hit you. We go back and forth until one of us can't get back up."

"You did just beat me," Chris pointed out. 

"Yeah," said Morri, "but it wasn't enough. It needs to be..." 

Chris frowned. "More brutal?"

Morri looked... Was that shame? ...but she nodded.

Antoinette said, "Chris..." but he ignored her. 

"If that's what it takes," he said, and stepped in. 

His first punch caught Morri in the diaphragm, and she wheezed but didn't quite double over. She straightened, and he nodded to her. 

She threw a straight punch to the chest, and knocked Chris about three feet back and onto his ass. He shook his head in surprise as much as pain, and got back up. Morri's eyes widened; then she lowered her head. 

He moved to face off with her again, seeming human again as he considered her. Then he spun a kick into the side of her thigh and watched her crumple over, clutching at it. She shook it off and climbed back to her feet almost immediately, though she seemed to be favoring the leg just slightly. 

Then she stepped in with an uppercut that would have broken a mundane's jaw and possibly removed his head, and Chris felt himself lifted into the air. He didn't feel himself land on his back, and for a moment all he could see was a field of faintly blinking lights. There were sounds...

"Aigh--" He swallowed, got control of his voice. "I'm all right."

"Are you sure?" asked Elyssa.

He blinked, focused. She was kneeling over him, one hand on the pulse in his throat. He shifted his head around slowly, then nodded. 

"He's all right!" Elyssa yelled. "Antoinette, back down! He's all right."

A moment later Antoinette was staring down at him, her expression blank. Then she turned and walked away without a word. 

Chris shifted his shoulders, rubbed at the bruise on his chest. 

Peter knelt beside him. "Sorry about that. Morri is--" 

"Don't apologize for your partner," Chris ground out. "I knew what I was doing. If you're going to apologize, go apologize to Antoinette for not warning her that this was going to end up this way." He lowered his head, let it rest against the ground for a moment, then added: "And give her my apologies, too. I know I'm a shitty partner, but I'm trying."

Peter swallowed. "All right."