silverwolfcc (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silverwolfcc) wrote2009-01-03 10:01 pm
silverwolfcc) wrote2009-01-03 10:01 pm
A Favor (Jitte vs Sword)
Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece, Smoker, or any of the One Piece world and its awesomeness.
Pairing: Smoker/Keitha
Title: A Favor (Part 1 of Jitte vs Sword)
Rating: PG-13 for language and violence (this part)
Lyrics/Music: Out of the Frying Pan (And Into the Fire) is written by Jim Steinman and usually performed by Meatloaf. It's a good song (in my own admittedly Meatloaf obsessed opinion) so you should check it out some time.
"I have a favor to ask of you, Lieutenant," Smoker said in a low hoarse voice shooting glances around to make sure he wasn't heard.
"Oh yeah?" Keitha asked hopefully, "Does it involve something kinky? Because any time you need to be whipped..." She let the suggestion hang in the air. It was pretty obvious by his flat stare that was not his request. "What's the problem?"
Smoker ducked inside the safety of his office muttering to her as he passed, "Act like I'm yelling at you."
"There's no one around Taisa," Keitha protested but put on the facade nevertheless. No matter how safe something looked, appearances could be decieving and it was just stupid to fall into bad habits. Putting on her most chagrined face, Keitha slowly shuffled her way in as though putting off her impending doom. Once she closed the door, she plopped down on one of the blue sofas kicking her feet up onto the table in Smoker-y fashion. "What's up Captain?" she inquired nonchalantly.
To the spy's surprise, the White Hunter was actually pacing back and forth and even looked serious. He paused, inhaling the cigar smoke deeply and pondered on how to continue. "I don't regret eating the Moku Moku fruit," he started. Keitha arched an eybrow. He was actually being serious. Not that Smoker wasn't usually serious but this was a more frightening kind of serious; one where he wasn't angry or even angry just hiding it, the kind of deep low serious that spoke of . . . troubled? Smoker troubled? It couldn't be possible. Smoker didn't get troubled, he got annoyed, he got mad and he got REALLY pissed off, but he didn't get worried or concerned.
"But sometimes..." he trailed off, inhaling more smoke as if to remind himself that the smoke was a blessing not a curse.
"Taisa, if it's any help, I think your smoke is sexy," Keitha informed him, completely amused by his predicament.
"That's not what I wanted to ask you," Smoker said flashing irritation. Keitha was comfortable with the irritation; it was familiar.
Still, Keitha frowned, if it was something to bother Smoker that deeply, it had to be big and that in itself was pretty scary. "What's wrong, Taisa?" she echoed softly.
Smoker chewed his cigars, clearly not wanting to bring this up with her. "Seastone is like the ocean for devil fruit users," he stated the obvious. Keitha wanted to smack him in the head for dragging this out, both of them already knew that. That's why she carried seastone cuffs at all times, that's why he even USED a seastone weapon. The spy found herself rubbing a temple in frustration, ignoring that this was a habit she was picking up from Smoker. "I think... what if pirates get ahold of some it," Smoker finally explained what was bothering him.
Despite her attempts at being understanding, Keitha failed. "Taisa," she fixed him with an irked glare, "The odds of pirates getting their hands on seastone... Do you even know how hard it is for marines to get? You should know since you have some..."
The captain frowned, "I know but it's still possible."
Pausing Keitha added, "Well sure it's possible. In the same sort of sense that whales might fly. It's possible but so extraordinarily unlikely..."
Smoker cut her off huffily, "Look I don't want to argue about it being likely or not! I just want to be prepared either way!"
The lieutenant arched an eyebrow, "Did they invent an anti-seastone sheild I don't know about?"
"No. I want to practice fighting against it," he explained crankily.
"That sounds painful," Keitha mused, "Are you sure you wouldn't just prefer the whips and chains?"
"Lieutenant!" growled Smoker furiously.
Keitha sighed, "Hai hai... practice against it... What did you have in mind?"
"I want you to use my jitte against me," he answered, rubbing his chin with a glove hand.
Uncertainly Keitha ventured, "Sir, with all due respect, that sounds like a bad idea."
"Lieutenant," he growed again. "Just..." he ground his teeth on cigars. He wasn't ever going to say "please" and the almost begging look in his eyes was as close as he was going to get.
"Okay Captain," Keitha said with a resigned sigh, "When do you want to do this?"
Smoker took to pacing his office again, "At night. So no one can see."
Keitha looked out his windows. It was already getting dark out but she assumed he meant quite a bit later so that the place would be abandoned. "And where do you want to do this?" she asked unable to keep from sounding dubious about the whole plan.
The White Hunter frowned, thinking his options over. "The practice yard will be fine," he decided.
"Okay," she nodded. "I'm going to warm up. Meet me there when you're ready." She half-expected it was some kind of prank where he would leave her waiting all night. Smoker nodded to her in reply and she wandered down the hallways along the familiar path to one of the fort's courtyards. Some forts like G6 and G4 were known to have quite a few courtyards and other places only had one that they used for everything. Loguetown had 3. A public one for executions that was almost more part of the town than the marine base, one that was used almost exclusively for swordfighting practice (which was lined with very nice trees and a shed of weapons) and another for shooting, calistenics and anything else.
Walking around the trees, Keitha stretched her legs, occasionally pausing to bend in strange angles. The courtyard was empty, the men all inside and no patrols scheduled to go through there. There were a few lanterns lit up in places. While it was "officially" closed, the fencing courtyard was always kept open for any men wanting to practice no matter what time it was. It was hard work training men to fight pirates and the extra practice was always encouraged, even if unofficially.
Keitha was strangely fond of this particular courtyard. Its trees were quite beautiful and the lanterns were just dim enough to be discreet (perfect for sneaking) and yet still bright enough to see well. Plus, unlike many cities' lamplights which were orange or yellow (obnoxiously colored in her opinion), these lanterns (in order to not be as bright) were darker tinted with greens and blues and it cast a very nice effect on the almost-garden-like field.
There actually was a small garden off to one side. Though more of an orchard really; and the red-head truly loved the contrasts of city life, wildlife and ocean, all in such close proximity to each other. She spent most of her time waiting just stretching and wandering around trying to be limber. While she occasionally danced through a few sword-forms she didn't want to be tired before he even came out there.
She certainly couldn't jump around waving his jitte in the air to practice or even get used to its weight, there were still the occasional groups of marines passing through, sometimes having a small battle or enjoying the trees, and other times just using the courtyard as a shortcut to the other side. It would have been impossible to explain why she was borrowing the captain's unique weapon and eventually assuming it was some sort of devious prank to rile Smoker's anger, someone would rush off to the man out of loyalty and inform him of her theft; thereby erasing the entire point of waiting until no one could see.
The lieutenant found it strange that Smoker wanted to wait for all his men to be gone. Did he expect to lose and didn't want to be embarrassed by it? He had to be overestimating her skills if he thought that. She was flattered but it still seemed there had to be another reason. Suddenly it clicked, was he trying to practice against seastone in case he had to fight other marines? It was the only thing that made sense and it explained quite a bit about his odd behaviour. Pirates weren't likely to ever get their hands on seastone and it'd make just as much sense to practice against obscure devil fruit types. Marines on the other hand...
If at some point the brass decided Smoker was too loose a cannon to be left to live....
The thought sent shivers down her spine. That was the very reason she'd been sent to Loguetown. To find out whether Smoker had learned his place in the marines. To find out how much he was chewing at the bit and whether he would break free without warning. She actually wished Smoker would break free. Keitha hated the marines for what they'd done to him, even though she didn't really know most of it. The spy hated that even more, that there could be so many things and some of them so awful that no one would talk about it. The idea that Smoker considered it a strong possibility that he'd have to face seastone, to fight other marines.... Keitha didn't like it.
It was a strange feeling. She could recall all her original animosity towards the captain, it was an understatement to say they'd made a bad first impression on each other. And for weeks afterwards they'd still butted heads about everything. Yet now, she had a strange affection for the old pirate tracker. Not just because they were sleeping together but precisely because of his attitude towards the brass. His attitude towards life.
Suddenly Keitha found herself wanting to protect the scruffy captain. The tall marine hardly needed protection usually but perhaps it was because of that that he would be so quick to jump into danger, never thinking he could be hurt. There were a lot of people Keitha wanted to keep safe but the only one she was used to be willing to do anything to protect at all costs was Aiden. To add another face, another smell, another name, another love to that list was strangely intimidating. She wanted to brave the entire marine corps for him, to keep him safe.
Try as she might to rationalize it (by protecting him she was trying to protect true justice, truth, and integrity in the face of people who disregarded such things) there was no escaping the fact, she'd gotten in too deep. What had started off almost as a dare in her own mind had far exceeded her plans and was getting more dangerous every day. It was dangerous enough to begin with but to get attached was worse. To be willing to sacrifice other things that she couldn't afford to... Danger no longer was the right word, it was beyond dangerous. Stupid perhaps.
She frowned as she leaned her back against a cherry tree. It was possibly already too late to find her way out of this. Even if she stopped everything in its tracks, there was no going back. A thousand warnings and reasons against such things coursed through her head. Academy instructors' rules, marine guidelines, expectations of officers, even just common sense screamed everything wrong with this situation. Spies were always on the run, she'd get orders to leave this port any day. Keitha couldn't afford attachments left behind.
More was demanded of officers; if an enlisted personnel got involved with someone it was because they were too naive, ignorant, or just plain stupid. To be an officer meant you had to do better than that. That you assessed and understood your every action and knew the consequences was crucial and expected even in your private affairs. Something like this was unacceptable. The kind of thing where if you weren't extremely careful you'd be demoted at best and kicked out of the marines at worst.
Attempting to get blood circulating through her legs again, Keitha resumed her walk. Could Smoker be worried their relationship would be found out and that's why he would have to fight marines? That was crazy. Even if they did get discovered he should just blame her; it was her fault anyways. And she could just brush it off as part of her attempts to investigate him. It'd be embarrassing and she'd certainly be reprimanded and punished but there was no need to fight marines over it.
No. There had to be some other reason. The idea that he was worried about her didn't make sense. They still hadn't discussed how long they would continue this or when they should stop or really anything about it at all. Almost as though by not talking about it they could pretend it wasn't happening, just a random one-time event. But Keitha was sure, no matter how worried Smoker might be, (though she doubted he even was or else he'd have called it off all ready) he was smart enough to know that things didn't have to go that far.
So then why did he think he would have to fight other marines?
The spy chewed a fingernail in thought. She didn't have an answer and that was driving her crazy. The red-head wanted to demand an explanation from Smoker but she knew it wouldn't come. Whatever reason he held, he was keeping it secret. The captain hadn't even seen fit to admit that it was marines he was worried about fighting; there was no way he was going to admit why he thought it might be necessary.
A quick scan of the courtyard revealed that no one was left. Everyone had left for the night. In bed, or at least pretending to rest. It was only a matter of time before Smoker joined her. Keitha spread out on the ground and tilted her head back to look up at the stars, it was pretty cloudy but the few brighter ones peeked through the mist. The moon was too small a sliver to be of any use as light so Keitha was grateful for lanterns.
She could smell his smoke long before she could see him. Idly musing to herself that it was a good thing he was fast or he'd never be able to sneak up on anyone Keitha grinned. "It's about time Taisa. I've been waiting for ages."
Smoker merely grunted grumpily. "You ready?" he asked hoarsely.
"Mnnn," she climbed up from the plush grass, "I still think it's a bad idea." Smoker scowled and looked about to yell at her again that he didn't want her opinion, but Keitha continued, "But I'm as ready as I can be under the circumstances."
The captain nodded to himself. He took off his jacket, handing the jitte over to the much smaller woman who nearly dropped it. Smoker arched an eyebrow at her in amusement as she grunted and tried to swing it with both her hands.
"Holy fuck!" she growled, "This thing weighs a goddam ton! How do you even weild it?"
Slightly hiding his smirk, he corrected her grip, chewing on cigars and not saying a word. The lieutenant stared at him flatly.
"Taisa," she growled again, "That doesn't help."
"Toughen up," he retorted with a small eyeroll. The anger that flashed over her face like she wanted to tear him apart with her nails was a little reassuring but she looked down at the weapon skeptically.
"This is stupid," she complained swinging the jitte awkwardly. "Fuck, I can't even move the damn thing." She wanted to kick it, or maybe throw the stupid pike but she was extremely certain that Smoker might kill her if she did, after all she'd feel the need to kill anyone who kicked the Benton.
Smoker sighed, "Just do your best lieutenant."
Keitha hefted the jitte, trying to get a better grip and awkwardly swung it at the captain's chest. She swung much too hard though and completely threw herself off balance, tripping over her feet and wound up having to use the jitte to prop her up from doing a faceplant into the grass. "This is stupid!" she yelled furiously. "No this is insane. Taisa, this is not going to work."
Smoker's eyes narrowed irritably, assessing her stubborn attitude.
"Look," she said trying to hand him back his seastone weapon, "Think about it. Even if mar -- pirates get their hands on seastone they're not going to fight with you with your own weapon and you're not going to defend barehanded. Even if marines attack you with seastone they're going to use something else. Swords probably. Not a jitte. And definitely not your jitte."
Chomping on cigars irritably, Smoker fumed lightly, the waves of smoke rising off his head faster than usual. "And what do you suggest?" he asked frostily.
She rubbed her arms. The lieutenant didn't remember smacking herself with the jitte but she could feel the bruise already forming. The desire to kick the weapon and Smoker for being stupid inclined sharply. "What if I get something else that's seastone?" she reasoned, "And you'll defend with your jitte. The seastone from your jitte will be an added weakness, right? And you'll still have to fight my seastone."
Smoker blinked as he thought it over. "I suppose that makes sense," he conceded.
"Good," Keitha sighed with relief. She was beginning to wonder at all the rumors calling Smoker a monster. They almost had a point with his freakish strength.
"But you can't use your cuffs," Smoker pointed out, "They're too short and won't reach over the jitte."
"No," Keitha agreed, "It'd have to be a sword or something else I guess."
"And you'll get that where?" rumbled the captain.
Keitha rubbed the side of her head, "It's a marine base! There must be something here."
Smoker frowned, "As you said earlier, it's very hard to get seastone."
"Yeah but Tashigi has a sword fetish. She must have something with seastone," Keitha grinned evilly.
Arching an eyebrow Smoker added, "I'd rather that the Sargeant Major wasn't involved in this."
For a quick racing second, Keitha wondered with some slight paranoia whether Smoker had anything to fear from the bespectacled woman. "I didn't intend to ask her," the spy confessed dryly.
"You're not going to steal from her," the captain growled angrily.
"Steal is such an ugly word," Keitha grinned as she walked over to the shed where extra swords and bokken were kept, "I prefer 'borrow.'"
"Are you asking for permission?" Smoker objected. When the red-head shook her head no he added, "Then it's stealing."
"Fine, stealing but giving back," she grumbled fiddling with the lockpicks she kept in a small jar.
Smoker's eyes narrowed, "Where the hell did you pull those from?" he demanded.
Grinning impishly, Keitha laughed, "Where do you think?"
The stunned captain blinked at her in amazement, "How much do you keep in there?"
Still laughing, Keitha held up a hand with 3 fingers, uncorking the bottle that held her needle-like tools and fiddling one into the lock, listening for a click.
"Hmmm," Smoker mused, counting to himself, "There's your badge and seastone cuffs key.... lockpicks... what else? How the hell do you even fit anything else?!"
Keitha chuckled and pulled out a small sheathed dagger. "Backup," she explained simply, "Just in case."
"You're a freak," Smoker stated watching her flick open the lock to the door and stuff several objects back into places around her bra.
Keitha shrugged but continued grinning with amusement, "Takes one to know one, Taisa. And I guess that would make you our King."
Smoker grunted as he followed her into the completely dark shed.
"Ugh," she scowled, "It's too dark. I can tell this is a scimitar but seastone? Oh wait, here's another one. I think this is just an ordinary sabre." She frowned, she would have loved a seastone sabre. "Here Taisa, I can't tell if any of these are seastone. They all could be for all I can see. This is a rapier," she passed it to him but he passed it back with a short no. "And this is a shortsword," she handed him another one. They went through a few more, Keitha chuckling to herself, "Well this is bokken so unless they make synthetic seastone bamboo...." but Smoker seemed completely unamused so Keitha continued her search.
"Hmmm," she frowned in the dark. She'd come across a large cache of intricately hilted weapons. This had to be Tashigi's secret stash of confiscated blades. And while there was no way the Sargeant Major had "rescued" a seastone sword, she might have one saved there just in case. Keitha ran her fingers across a few finding yet another scimitar, "How about this one Taisa?"
The captain barely touched it before handing it back as though burned, "That'll do," he growled.
Keitha attempted to peer at it but without the lanterns she really couldn't see anything about it. It looked like a regular scimitar: loved by pirates, wider than a sabre but with similar curves and comparable balance. "You're not just saying that so we'll stop, are you Captain?" she joked.
The White Hunter glared at her furiously and while she couldn't see it, she definitely sensed it, her spine tingling with the sense of impending doom. "Right, let's get this over with then," she said pushing him towards the exit.
"You're not going to lock it?" Smoker asked once they were outside and the spy was tossing the sword and rolling it around her back to make sure she had the feel down.
"Why?" she arched an eyebrow at him quizzically, "I still have to return it, remember?" Smoker stood still, arms across chest, jitte jutted into the ground at his side and glowered, same as always. Keitha sighed, "I'll lock it when I put it back," she explained defensively. Smoker continued with the same expression, so Keitha growled, "Stop looking at me like that! It's not like any of the swords are going to get stolen while we're standing here right next to the thing!"
"I didn't say anything," Smoker stated simply.
Keitha grumbled crankily about that wanting to smack him in the head. "Stupid freaking... you just... grrrr. Meh. Fine. You ready?" she asked venomously.
Smoker nodded as if he'd been ready the whole time, just waiting for her to charge.
"Okay," Keitha nodded wondering if he was even a tenth as nervous as she was. "If you want to stop at any point just say so."
The captain nodded again to note that he understood. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Keitha quickly ran through some basic battle strategies, attempting to memorize the terrain. She waited for Smoker to do something but he just stood there... waiting. Waiting for her to make the first move she realized. Which meant his style had to be almost completely defensive. She really hated fighting defensive types (she was too used to dodging Aiden who was much more a rush in there and think up a plan as you go type) but she shrugged it off, it would give her the opportunity to work on her attack.
She darted in closer, hoping to take the older marine by surprise, flicking the seastone blade up near his chest before quickly reversing the direction to the left near his kneecap. Smoker blocked with his jitte in one fluid motion as if the weapon wasn't just a part of him but WAS him. Keitha growled, pulling the scimitar away from the tine where it would be easily snared and forcing Smoker to take a step back, she sliced near his other thigh before sliding up towards his chest again.
Smoker easily sidestepped around her attack and brought the jitte much too close towards her ears for her liking. Her eyes widened and though she mentally swore at his strength and her own ineptitude, she ducked, throwing her strength into the hilt of the sword hoping to press him further and maybe get him off balance enough for a real attack. No such luck as he stood fast, simply flicking his wrist just enough to keep the sword at bay and enough off balance she couldn't easily turn the blade in another direction quickly enough.
Keitha decided the only way she was going to be able to do anything to the captain was to put all her strength into her attacks. Speed didn't mean enough and while he would easily defend the attacks, if she pushed enough when she lightened up for the quick speedy attacks he might not be expecting it. With a small grunt she thrusted towards his neck again, virutally throwing it at his midsection with all the power she put behind it and despite all of it, Smoker didn't even need to take another step back. Sweat was all ready beginning to bead on the red-head's forehead and stepping back herself she went into a series of much smaller and much faster attacks.
It felt almost weird not to shout out "Xylophone scales in 8th octave!" each thrust of her blade clashing loudly with his jitte and hitting a corresponding music note in her head. She couldn't even remember how long ago she'd made up the attack or when or how Aiden had named it for her, she'd been using it for so long now. The red-head swordswoman grinned at Smoker's nonchalant response to each of her attacks. He defended effortlessly, seastone not seeming to bug him at all. Not sure whether or not he was just hiding any effort or genuinely as at ease as he pretended, Keitha didn't care. She launched into another series of flicks, one near his ear, one near his neck, another near his hand before darting back towards his stomach. This time she ducked down to one knee, driving a slice near his kneecaps with full force.
Smoker nearly jumped in order to dodge her, moving well to the side and foward. But before the lieutenant had time to gloat, Smoker swept the jitte back towards her and already down on knee, Keitha had to retract the scimitar to the side and roll out of the way to not get caught in the blast. She gulped, tossing the Benton off to the side. Understandably, the spy didn't appreciate getting knocked in the head by its hilt simply by trying to move but she almost felt a pang of guilt at its seeming protest. It was already grumpy about having been replaced by seastone and it definitely didn't like being tossed aside.
"It's just a sword," she reminded herself, "It can't have feelings about being replaced. Stop turning into Tashigi."
Quickly shaking herself off, Smoker giving her a courtesy pause, the red-head darted back towards him with another attack. She could almost hear Aiden laughing at her, singing softly in his mocking voice, chiding her clumsy attacks. She exploded with strikes, scimitar weaving in and out like a viper trying to find the right place to strike. Smoker's eyes were focused on her blade but Keitha tried to take in her surroundings. She was pushed back but even as she went on the defensive herself, she continued whipping the blade faster than her own eyes could keep up, in order to push Smoker back.
Several more loud crashes of fury sent the rush of waves and beat of drums coursing through her brain. Her blood seemed to boil with excitement. It was nice to give it her all and still get her butt kicked for a change. She surged foward with a flurry of movement, still holding back enough to flick off any attakcs Smoker threw at her. She was determined to get close enough to do something, to prove she wasn't weak, to prove she was as skilled as she thought she was and more.
A few sparks flew as Smoker brushed off her attacks, still making it look effortless. Keitha growled with animalistic frustration. She was going to prove her worth, make him realize that asking her for a sparring match wasn't something to be taken lightly. Sliding the jitte upwards, Smoker came dangerously close to catching Keitha's blade in between. The force of her swing kept her aiming right for being caught but she quickly flipped the handgrip on the hilt, something she never could have done with a sabre, reversing it completely and whacking the edge of jitte hoping to throw the older marine off balance. It failed completely as Smoker realized her plan and jerked the jitte away before the scimitar could do anything more than tap it. However, it gave Keitha the chance to dodge out of the way and launch another xylophone scale of attacks: light speedy and hitting their way in a pattern up (or down) the body.
Smoker blocked it again in a fluid swoop but Keitha was able to force the captain to step back on the defensive. As she was just about to start congratualating herself, Smoker grinned evilly much to Keitha's confusion. He swung the jitte across her legs but she easily parried it back towards him with the sword and as he started to hook the pike to her side, before the swordswoman even had time to understand what he was doing, the scimitar went flying out of her hands in a high arc several dozen feet away. She blinked in astonishment as Smoker held the jitte tine at her shoulder, the White Hunter mocking her with a rare smile.
Keitha didn't know what to say. She could hardly believe it. The lieutenant didn't even fully understand what he'd done. The swipe at her legs was an obvious diversion but then had that forced her to move the Benton more upwards to block? How? Hadn't she been aiming it lower? Only the swipe at her side hadn't taken her by surprise so had he managed to win so quickly? The captain lowered his jitte so she could retrieve the seastone blade. Running a hand through her hair embarrassedly, Keitha still couldn't figure out what he'd done.
"Again," she said determination shining in her eyes.
Captain Smoker grinned evilly, "Who's the masochist now?"
Glaring balefully in response Keitha muttered to herself, "I'll find out what you did and turn it against you."
"You can try," replied the captain softly.
She launched into another series of attacks, this time paying much more attention to how he blocked and attacked than trying to bull-rush him. Again and again they fought. The lieutenant lost track of how many times he managed to pin her down, lose the scimitar or just plain defeat her. It had to have been hours of practicing. It seemed as though every muscle on her body ached in pain from being bruised or whacked though she hoped none of it showed. Even Smoker despite his endless stamina seemed to be wearing down. Slowing as though moving through jello, and with a touch less force behind the swings, Keitha was relieved that she wasn't the only one getting sleepy.
Even with all the adrenaline coursing through her veins, it was starting to wear off so that in the midst of switching hands (which didn't throw Smoker off even the first time but at least gave one arm at a time the chance to rest) she was more likely to use her off-hand to stifle a yawn than for balance. After Smoker flicked the blade out of her grip yet again, Keitha yielded. "Break," she panted.
Smoker nodded, also seeming relieved at the interruption. The White Hunter ran gloved hands down his arms which Keitha bitterly hoped were aching just a little from swinging the stupid jitte for so long. Leaning against one of the many trees, Keitha started to realize that the lanterns seemed dimmer. Were they running out of fuel just as she was? She looked up through the leaves and in the distance spotted a spot of yellow and a tiny sliver streak of orange and pink.
Wearily, Keitha pointed at it, asking in numb amazement, "It's dawn?? Already?" 'All ready' was probably a poor choice of words on her part. As far as she was concerned it should have been dawn weeks ago and they must have been fighting for months. That Smoker not only continued fighting without much break but expected her to keep up was. . . intimidating. She respected him more than before, but it came with a small edge of fear that said, "This is not a man to mess with." Of course being Keitha, she rather liked it.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, taking a long drag from his cigars Smoker muttered, "Looks like it."
Keitha stared at him. "Please say this means we're going to stop," she begged. "Marines are going to be out here any second."
She was now convinced that whatever embarrassment he was trying to save wasn't on his end. He'd crushed her. Had she even managed to hit him once or twice? Had even felt weakened by the prescence of seastone so close at all? Almost hating herself for thinking it, Keitha suddenly understood where all the claims that he was a monster came from. He wasn't human; that was certain. Why had he wanted to keep it secret? Having a captain that was able to face down any swordsman he came across would have been a morale booster for his men. Were her suspicions true, was he really practicing in case he had to fight other marines?
Smoker nodded that they were done for the night. Seeing his assent, Keitha lost all pretense of endurance and slumped down to the ground heaving a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God. The last time I was beat this badly, Aiden made me wear a dress and sing 'I'm a little teapot' for pennies."
The marine captain grinned smugly, "I didn't say it would be easy."
"Easy?" Keitha choked, "I've never pitied pirates before but anyone on the end of your jitte deserves some sympathy. Ugh." She laid back rubbing sore muscles, "I'd hate to think how it would feel if I was a devil fruit user to boot."
Still grinning over his cigars Smoker retorted, "Next time I'll have to make a wager then."
"I think I learned my lesson on that with Aiden," Keitha frowned.
"Too bad," Smoker mused, "I was thinking of making it worth your while."
"Yeah?" Keitha's ears perked with interest as she got up to put the borrowed scimitar away.
Smoker nodded, "Of course you're still a thousand years too young to beat me."
Keitha grunted as though he'd just poked her in the ribs, "You're a very evil man sometimes Taisa," she complained.
Smoker continued grinning cockily as he headed for bed.
"Worried about seastone my butt," Keitha scowled to herself, placing the sword in its shed, which was much easier to do with the added light. "He's got nothing to worry about." She shivered slightly, the sweat which had been so sticky and uncomfortably warm earlier suddenly turning into ice in the cool morning air. As was too frequently the case for Keitha given that she was a spy, she'd been telling the complete truth about pitying anyone on the recieving end of his jitte attacks. They'd only been practicing and she mildly suspected he'd been going easy on her and even with that, he'd been ferocious. Scary even.
The lieutenant worried about her own mental stability sometimes. As scary as the captain was, for some reason that just made her more attracted to him. "Ferocious should NOT be an attractive quality," she scowled, relocking the door. The image of Smoker grinning with that stupid cocky I'm-so-much-better-than-you look came back to her. Despite being exhausted, her pulse quickened and she couldn't help grinning. He was adorable; that obnoxious monster of a captain. She still wanted to kick him in the head (just to prove that she's done it before and can and will do it again if she feels liek it) but it was coupled with a desire to kiss him and tangle fingers in his spikey green-grey hair. Clearly, she was insane.
Tilting her head to the side, Keitha caught the morning cries of seagulls and kitchen workers getting breakfast ready. If she didn't hurry she wouldn't make it to showers before they were all full. They might be full already. She sighed. She refused to go to bed still soaked in sweat, it was just too gross. Wondering if Smoker's showers had been fixed yet, a devious plot began forming in the lieutenant's head.
Hmmm it is harder to find time to write with Kyle around. Not that that's a bad thing ;)
Pairing: Smoker/Keitha
Title: A Favor (Part 1 of Jitte vs Sword)
Rating: PG-13 for language and violence (this part)
Lyrics/Music: Out of the Frying Pan (And Into the Fire) is written by Jim Steinman and usually performed by Meatloaf. It's a good song (in my own admittedly Meatloaf obsessed opinion) so you should check it out some time.
"I have a favor to ask of you, Lieutenant," Smoker said in a low hoarse voice shooting glances around to make sure he wasn't heard.
"Oh yeah?" Keitha asked hopefully, "Does it involve something kinky? Because any time you need to be whipped..." She let the suggestion hang in the air. It was pretty obvious by his flat stare that was not his request. "What's the problem?"
Smoker ducked inside the safety of his office muttering to her as he passed, "Act like I'm yelling at you."
"There's no one around Taisa," Keitha protested but put on the facade nevertheless. No matter how safe something looked, appearances could be decieving and it was just stupid to fall into bad habits. Putting on her most chagrined face, Keitha slowly shuffled her way in as though putting off her impending doom. Once she closed the door, she plopped down on one of the blue sofas kicking her feet up onto the table in Smoker-y fashion. "What's up Captain?" she inquired nonchalantly.
To the spy's surprise, the White Hunter was actually pacing back and forth and even looked serious. He paused, inhaling the cigar smoke deeply and pondered on how to continue. "I don't regret eating the Moku Moku fruit," he started. Keitha arched an eybrow. He was actually being serious. Not that Smoker wasn't usually serious but this was a more frightening kind of serious; one where he wasn't angry or even angry just hiding it, the kind of deep low serious that spoke of . . . troubled? Smoker troubled? It couldn't be possible. Smoker didn't get troubled, he got annoyed, he got mad and he got REALLY pissed off, but he didn't get worried or concerned.
"But sometimes..." he trailed off, inhaling more smoke as if to remind himself that the smoke was a blessing not a curse.
"Taisa, if it's any help, I think your smoke is sexy," Keitha informed him, completely amused by his predicament.
"That's not what I wanted to ask you," Smoker said flashing irritation. Keitha was comfortable with the irritation; it was familiar.
Still, Keitha frowned, if it was something to bother Smoker that deeply, it had to be big and that in itself was pretty scary. "What's wrong, Taisa?" she echoed softly.
Smoker chewed his cigars, clearly not wanting to bring this up with her. "Seastone is like the ocean for devil fruit users," he stated the obvious. Keitha wanted to smack him in the head for dragging this out, both of them already knew that. That's why she carried seastone cuffs at all times, that's why he even USED a seastone weapon. The spy found herself rubbing a temple in frustration, ignoring that this was a habit she was picking up from Smoker. "I think... what if pirates get ahold of some it," Smoker finally explained what was bothering him.
Despite her attempts at being understanding, Keitha failed. "Taisa," she fixed him with an irked glare, "The odds of pirates getting their hands on seastone... Do you even know how hard it is for marines to get? You should know since you have some..."
The captain frowned, "I know but it's still possible."
Pausing Keitha added, "Well sure it's possible. In the same sort of sense that whales might fly. It's possible but so extraordinarily unlikely..."
Smoker cut her off huffily, "Look I don't want to argue about it being likely or not! I just want to be prepared either way!"
The lieutenant arched an eyebrow, "Did they invent an anti-seastone sheild I don't know about?"
"No. I want to practice fighting against it," he explained crankily.
"That sounds painful," Keitha mused, "Are you sure you wouldn't just prefer the whips and chains?"
"Lieutenant!" growled Smoker furiously.
Keitha sighed, "Hai hai... practice against it... What did you have in mind?"
"I want you to use my jitte against me," he answered, rubbing his chin with a glove hand.
Uncertainly Keitha ventured, "Sir, with all due respect, that sounds like a bad idea."
"Lieutenant," he growed again. "Just..." he ground his teeth on cigars. He wasn't ever going to say "please" and the almost begging look in his eyes was as close as he was going to get.
"Okay Captain," Keitha said with a resigned sigh, "When do you want to do this?"
Smoker took to pacing his office again, "At night. So no one can see."
Keitha looked out his windows. It was already getting dark out but she assumed he meant quite a bit later so that the place would be abandoned. "And where do you want to do this?" she asked unable to keep from sounding dubious about the whole plan.
The White Hunter frowned, thinking his options over. "The practice yard will be fine," he decided.
"Okay," she nodded. "I'm going to warm up. Meet me there when you're ready." She half-expected it was some kind of prank where he would leave her waiting all night. Smoker nodded to her in reply and she wandered down the hallways along the familiar path to one of the fort's courtyards. Some forts like G6 and G4 were known to have quite a few courtyards and other places only had one that they used for everything. Loguetown had 3. A public one for executions that was almost more part of the town than the marine base, one that was used almost exclusively for swordfighting practice (which was lined with very nice trees and a shed of weapons) and another for shooting, calistenics and anything else.
Walking around the trees, Keitha stretched her legs, occasionally pausing to bend in strange angles. The courtyard was empty, the men all inside and no patrols scheduled to go through there. There were a few lanterns lit up in places. While it was "officially" closed, the fencing courtyard was always kept open for any men wanting to practice no matter what time it was. It was hard work training men to fight pirates and the extra practice was always encouraged, even if unofficially.
Keitha was strangely fond of this particular courtyard. Its trees were quite beautiful and the lanterns were just dim enough to be discreet (perfect for sneaking) and yet still bright enough to see well. Plus, unlike many cities' lamplights which were orange or yellow (obnoxiously colored in her opinion), these lanterns (in order to not be as bright) were darker tinted with greens and blues and it cast a very nice effect on the almost-garden-like field.
There actually was a small garden off to one side. Though more of an orchard really; and the red-head truly loved the contrasts of city life, wildlife and ocean, all in such close proximity to each other. She spent most of her time waiting just stretching and wandering around trying to be limber. While she occasionally danced through a few sword-forms she didn't want to be tired before he even came out there.
She certainly couldn't jump around waving his jitte in the air to practice or even get used to its weight, there were still the occasional groups of marines passing through, sometimes having a small battle or enjoying the trees, and other times just using the courtyard as a shortcut to the other side. It would have been impossible to explain why she was borrowing the captain's unique weapon and eventually assuming it was some sort of devious prank to rile Smoker's anger, someone would rush off to the man out of loyalty and inform him of her theft; thereby erasing the entire point of waiting until no one could see.
The lieutenant found it strange that Smoker wanted to wait for all his men to be gone. Did he expect to lose and didn't want to be embarrassed by it? He had to be overestimating her skills if he thought that. She was flattered but it still seemed there had to be another reason. Suddenly it clicked, was he trying to practice against seastone in case he had to fight other marines? It was the only thing that made sense and it explained quite a bit about his odd behaviour. Pirates weren't likely to ever get their hands on seastone and it'd make just as much sense to practice against obscure devil fruit types. Marines on the other hand...
If at some point the brass decided Smoker was too loose a cannon to be left to live....
The thought sent shivers down her spine. That was the very reason she'd been sent to Loguetown. To find out whether Smoker had learned his place in the marines. To find out how much he was chewing at the bit and whether he would break free without warning. She actually wished Smoker would break free. Keitha hated the marines for what they'd done to him, even though she didn't really know most of it. The spy hated that even more, that there could be so many things and some of them so awful that no one would talk about it. The idea that Smoker considered it a strong possibility that he'd have to face seastone, to fight other marines.... Keitha didn't like it.
It was a strange feeling. She could recall all her original animosity towards the captain, it was an understatement to say they'd made a bad first impression on each other. And for weeks afterwards they'd still butted heads about everything. Yet now, she had a strange affection for the old pirate tracker. Not just because they were sleeping together but precisely because of his attitude towards the brass. His attitude towards life.
Suddenly Keitha found herself wanting to protect the scruffy captain. The tall marine hardly needed protection usually but perhaps it was because of that that he would be so quick to jump into danger, never thinking he could be hurt. There were a lot of people Keitha wanted to keep safe but the only one she was used to be willing to do anything to protect at all costs was Aiden. To add another face, another smell, another name, another love to that list was strangely intimidating. She wanted to brave the entire marine corps for him, to keep him safe.
Try as she might to rationalize it (by protecting him she was trying to protect true justice, truth, and integrity in the face of people who disregarded such things) there was no escaping the fact, she'd gotten in too deep. What had started off almost as a dare in her own mind had far exceeded her plans and was getting more dangerous every day. It was dangerous enough to begin with but to get attached was worse. To be willing to sacrifice other things that she couldn't afford to... Danger no longer was the right word, it was beyond dangerous. Stupid perhaps.
She frowned as she leaned her back against a cherry tree. It was possibly already too late to find her way out of this. Even if she stopped everything in its tracks, there was no going back. A thousand warnings and reasons against such things coursed through her head. Academy instructors' rules, marine guidelines, expectations of officers, even just common sense screamed everything wrong with this situation. Spies were always on the run, she'd get orders to leave this port any day. Keitha couldn't afford attachments left behind.
More was demanded of officers; if an enlisted personnel got involved with someone it was because they were too naive, ignorant, or just plain stupid. To be an officer meant you had to do better than that. That you assessed and understood your every action and knew the consequences was crucial and expected even in your private affairs. Something like this was unacceptable. The kind of thing where if you weren't extremely careful you'd be demoted at best and kicked out of the marines at worst.
Attempting to get blood circulating through her legs again, Keitha resumed her walk. Could Smoker be worried their relationship would be found out and that's why he would have to fight marines? That was crazy. Even if they did get discovered he should just blame her; it was her fault anyways. And she could just brush it off as part of her attempts to investigate him. It'd be embarrassing and she'd certainly be reprimanded and punished but there was no need to fight marines over it.
No. There had to be some other reason. The idea that he was worried about her didn't make sense. They still hadn't discussed how long they would continue this or when they should stop or really anything about it at all. Almost as though by not talking about it they could pretend it wasn't happening, just a random one-time event. But Keitha was sure, no matter how worried Smoker might be, (though she doubted he even was or else he'd have called it off all ready) he was smart enough to know that things didn't have to go that far.
So then why did he think he would have to fight other marines?
The spy chewed a fingernail in thought. She didn't have an answer and that was driving her crazy. The red-head wanted to demand an explanation from Smoker but she knew it wouldn't come. Whatever reason he held, he was keeping it secret. The captain hadn't even seen fit to admit that it was marines he was worried about fighting; there was no way he was going to admit why he thought it might be necessary.
A quick scan of the courtyard revealed that no one was left. Everyone had left for the night. In bed, or at least pretending to rest. It was only a matter of time before Smoker joined her. Keitha spread out on the ground and tilted her head back to look up at the stars, it was pretty cloudy but the few brighter ones peeked through the mist. The moon was too small a sliver to be of any use as light so Keitha was grateful for lanterns.
She could smell his smoke long before she could see him. Idly musing to herself that it was a good thing he was fast or he'd never be able to sneak up on anyone Keitha grinned. "It's about time Taisa. I've been waiting for ages."
Smoker merely grunted grumpily. "You ready?" he asked hoarsely.
"Mnnn," she climbed up from the plush grass, "I still think it's a bad idea." Smoker scowled and looked about to yell at her again that he didn't want her opinion, but Keitha continued, "But I'm as ready as I can be under the circumstances."
The captain nodded to himself. He took off his jacket, handing the jitte over to the much smaller woman who nearly dropped it. Smoker arched an eyebrow at her in amusement as she grunted and tried to swing it with both her hands.
"Holy fuck!" she growled, "This thing weighs a goddam ton! How do you even weild it?"
Slightly hiding his smirk, he corrected her grip, chewing on cigars and not saying a word. The lieutenant stared at him flatly.
"Taisa," she growled again, "That doesn't help."
"Toughen up," he retorted with a small eyeroll. The anger that flashed over her face like she wanted to tear him apart with her nails was a little reassuring but she looked down at the weapon skeptically.
"This is stupid," she complained swinging the jitte awkwardly. "Fuck, I can't even move the damn thing." She wanted to kick it, or maybe throw the stupid pike but she was extremely certain that Smoker might kill her if she did, after all she'd feel the need to kill anyone who kicked the Benton.
Smoker sighed, "Just do your best lieutenant."
Keitha hefted the jitte, trying to get a better grip and awkwardly swung it at the captain's chest. She swung much too hard though and completely threw herself off balance, tripping over her feet and wound up having to use the jitte to prop her up from doing a faceplant into the grass. "This is stupid!" she yelled furiously. "No this is insane. Taisa, this is not going to work."
Smoker's eyes narrowed irritably, assessing her stubborn attitude.
"Look," she said trying to hand him back his seastone weapon, "Think about it. Even if mar -- pirates get their hands on seastone they're not going to fight with you with your own weapon and you're not going to defend barehanded. Even if marines attack you with seastone they're going to use something else. Swords probably. Not a jitte. And definitely not your jitte."
Chomping on cigars irritably, Smoker fumed lightly, the waves of smoke rising off his head faster than usual. "And what do you suggest?" he asked frostily.
She rubbed her arms. The lieutenant didn't remember smacking herself with the jitte but she could feel the bruise already forming. The desire to kick the weapon and Smoker for being stupid inclined sharply. "What if I get something else that's seastone?" she reasoned, "And you'll defend with your jitte. The seastone from your jitte will be an added weakness, right? And you'll still have to fight my seastone."
Smoker blinked as he thought it over. "I suppose that makes sense," he conceded.
"Good," Keitha sighed with relief. She was beginning to wonder at all the rumors calling Smoker a monster. They almost had a point with his freakish strength.
"But you can't use your cuffs," Smoker pointed out, "They're too short and won't reach over the jitte."
"No," Keitha agreed, "It'd have to be a sword or something else I guess."
"And you'll get that where?" rumbled the captain.
Keitha rubbed the side of her head, "It's a marine base! There must be something here."
Smoker frowned, "As you said earlier, it's very hard to get seastone."
"Yeah but Tashigi has a sword fetish. She must have something with seastone," Keitha grinned evilly.
Arching an eyebrow Smoker added, "I'd rather that the Sargeant Major wasn't involved in this."
For a quick racing second, Keitha wondered with some slight paranoia whether Smoker had anything to fear from the bespectacled woman. "I didn't intend to ask her," the spy confessed dryly.
"You're not going to steal from her," the captain growled angrily.
"Steal is such an ugly word," Keitha grinned as she walked over to the shed where extra swords and bokken were kept, "I prefer 'borrow.'"
"Are you asking for permission?" Smoker objected. When the red-head shook her head no he added, "Then it's stealing."
"Fine, stealing but giving back," she grumbled fiddling with the lockpicks she kept in a small jar.
Smoker's eyes narrowed, "Where the hell did you pull those from?" he demanded.
Grinning impishly, Keitha laughed, "Where do you think?"
The stunned captain blinked at her in amazement, "How much do you keep in there?"
Still laughing, Keitha held up a hand with 3 fingers, uncorking the bottle that held her needle-like tools and fiddling one into the lock, listening for a click.
"Hmmm," Smoker mused, counting to himself, "There's your badge and seastone cuffs key.... lockpicks... what else? How the hell do you even fit anything else?!"
Keitha chuckled and pulled out a small sheathed dagger. "Backup," she explained simply, "Just in case."
"You're a freak," Smoker stated watching her flick open the lock to the door and stuff several objects back into places around her bra.
Keitha shrugged but continued grinning with amusement, "Takes one to know one, Taisa. And I guess that would make you our King."
Smoker grunted as he followed her into the completely dark shed.
"Ugh," she scowled, "It's too dark. I can tell this is a scimitar but seastone? Oh wait, here's another one. I think this is just an ordinary sabre." She frowned, she would have loved a seastone sabre. "Here Taisa, I can't tell if any of these are seastone. They all could be for all I can see. This is a rapier," she passed it to him but he passed it back with a short no. "And this is a shortsword," she handed him another one. They went through a few more, Keitha chuckling to herself, "Well this is bokken so unless they make synthetic seastone bamboo...." but Smoker seemed completely unamused so Keitha continued her search.
"Hmmm," she frowned in the dark. She'd come across a large cache of intricately hilted weapons. This had to be Tashigi's secret stash of confiscated blades. And while there was no way the Sargeant Major had "rescued" a seastone sword, she might have one saved there just in case. Keitha ran her fingers across a few finding yet another scimitar, "How about this one Taisa?"
The captain barely touched it before handing it back as though burned, "That'll do," he growled.
Keitha attempted to peer at it but without the lanterns she really couldn't see anything about it. It looked like a regular scimitar: loved by pirates, wider than a sabre but with similar curves and comparable balance. "You're not just saying that so we'll stop, are you Captain?" she joked.
The White Hunter glared at her furiously and while she couldn't see it, she definitely sensed it, her spine tingling with the sense of impending doom. "Right, let's get this over with then," she said pushing him towards the exit.
"You're not going to lock it?" Smoker asked once they were outside and the spy was tossing the sword and rolling it around her back to make sure she had the feel down.
"Why?" she arched an eyebrow at him quizzically, "I still have to return it, remember?" Smoker stood still, arms across chest, jitte jutted into the ground at his side and glowered, same as always. Keitha sighed, "I'll lock it when I put it back," she explained defensively. Smoker continued with the same expression, so Keitha growled, "Stop looking at me like that! It's not like any of the swords are going to get stolen while we're standing here right next to the thing!"
"I didn't say anything," Smoker stated simply.
Keitha grumbled crankily about that wanting to smack him in the head. "Stupid freaking... you just... grrrr. Meh. Fine. You ready?" she asked venomously.
Smoker nodded as if he'd been ready the whole time, just waiting for her to charge.
"Okay," Keitha nodded wondering if he was even a tenth as nervous as she was. "If you want to stop at any point just say so."
The captain nodded again to note that he understood. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Keitha quickly ran through some basic battle strategies, attempting to memorize the terrain. She waited for Smoker to do something but he just stood there... waiting. Waiting for her to make the first move she realized. Which meant his style had to be almost completely defensive. She really hated fighting defensive types (she was too used to dodging Aiden who was much more a rush in there and think up a plan as you go type) but she shrugged it off, it would give her the opportunity to work on her attack.
She darted in closer, hoping to take the older marine by surprise, flicking the seastone blade up near his chest before quickly reversing the direction to the left near his kneecap. Smoker blocked with his jitte in one fluid motion as if the weapon wasn't just a part of him but WAS him. Keitha growled, pulling the scimitar away from the tine where it would be easily snared and forcing Smoker to take a step back, she sliced near his other thigh before sliding up towards his chest again.
Smoker easily sidestepped around her attack and brought the jitte much too close towards her ears for her liking. Her eyes widened and though she mentally swore at his strength and her own ineptitude, she ducked, throwing her strength into the hilt of the sword hoping to press him further and maybe get him off balance enough for a real attack. No such luck as he stood fast, simply flicking his wrist just enough to keep the sword at bay and enough off balance she couldn't easily turn the blade in another direction quickly enough.
Keitha decided the only way she was going to be able to do anything to the captain was to put all her strength into her attacks. Speed didn't mean enough and while he would easily defend the attacks, if she pushed enough when she lightened up for the quick speedy attacks he might not be expecting it. With a small grunt she thrusted towards his neck again, virutally throwing it at his midsection with all the power she put behind it and despite all of it, Smoker didn't even need to take another step back. Sweat was all ready beginning to bead on the red-head's forehead and stepping back herself she went into a series of much smaller and much faster attacks.
It felt almost weird not to shout out "Xylophone scales in 8th octave!" each thrust of her blade clashing loudly with his jitte and hitting a corresponding music note in her head. She couldn't even remember how long ago she'd made up the attack or when or how Aiden had named it for her, she'd been using it for so long now. The red-head swordswoman grinned at Smoker's nonchalant response to each of her attacks. He defended effortlessly, seastone not seeming to bug him at all. Not sure whether or not he was just hiding any effort or genuinely as at ease as he pretended, Keitha didn't care. She launched into another series of flicks, one near his ear, one near his neck, another near his hand before darting back towards his stomach. This time she ducked down to one knee, driving a slice near his kneecaps with full force.
Smoker nearly jumped in order to dodge her, moving well to the side and foward. But before the lieutenant had time to gloat, Smoker swept the jitte back towards her and already down on knee, Keitha had to retract the scimitar to the side and roll out of the way to not get caught in the blast. She gulped, tossing the Benton off to the side. Understandably, the spy didn't appreciate getting knocked in the head by its hilt simply by trying to move but she almost felt a pang of guilt at its seeming protest. It was already grumpy about having been replaced by seastone and it definitely didn't like being tossed aside.
"It's just a sword," she reminded herself, "It can't have feelings about being replaced. Stop turning into Tashigi."
Quickly shaking herself off, Smoker giving her a courtesy pause, the red-head darted back towards him with another attack. She could almost hear Aiden laughing at her, singing softly in his mocking voice, chiding her clumsy attacks. She exploded with strikes, scimitar weaving in and out like a viper trying to find the right place to strike. Smoker's eyes were focused on her blade but Keitha tried to take in her surroundings. She was pushed back but even as she went on the defensive herself, she continued whipping the blade faster than her own eyes could keep up, in order to push Smoker back.
Several more loud crashes of fury sent the rush of waves and beat of drums coursing through her brain. Her blood seemed to boil with excitement. It was nice to give it her all and still get her butt kicked for a change. She surged foward with a flurry of movement, still holding back enough to flick off any attakcs Smoker threw at her. She was determined to get close enough to do something, to prove she wasn't weak, to prove she was as skilled as she thought she was and more.
A few sparks flew as Smoker brushed off her attacks, still making it look effortless. Keitha growled with animalistic frustration. She was going to prove her worth, make him realize that asking her for a sparring match wasn't something to be taken lightly. Sliding the jitte upwards, Smoker came dangerously close to catching Keitha's blade in between. The force of her swing kept her aiming right for being caught but she quickly flipped the handgrip on the hilt, something she never could have done with a sabre, reversing it completely and whacking the edge of jitte hoping to throw the older marine off balance. It failed completely as Smoker realized her plan and jerked the jitte away before the scimitar could do anything more than tap it. However, it gave Keitha the chance to dodge out of the way and launch another xylophone scale of attacks: light speedy and hitting their way in a pattern up (or down) the body.
Smoker blocked it again in a fluid swoop but Keitha was able to force the captain to step back on the defensive. As she was just about to start congratualating herself, Smoker grinned evilly much to Keitha's confusion. He swung the jitte across her legs but she easily parried it back towards him with the sword and as he started to hook the pike to her side, before the swordswoman even had time to understand what he was doing, the scimitar went flying out of her hands in a high arc several dozen feet away. She blinked in astonishment as Smoker held the jitte tine at her shoulder, the White Hunter mocking her with a rare smile.
Keitha didn't know what to say. She could hardly believe it. The lieutenant didn't even fully understand what he'd done. The swipe at her legs was an obvious diversion but then had that forced her to move the Benton more upwards to block? How? Hadn't she been aiming it lower? Only the swipe at her side hadn't taken her by surprise so had he managed to win so quickly? The captain lowered his jitte so she could retrieve the seastone blade. Running a hand through her hair embarrassedly, Keitha still couldn't figure out what he'd done.
"Again," she said determination shining in her eyes.
Captain Smoker grinned evilly, "Who's the masochist now?"
Glaring balefully in response Keitha muttered to herself, "I'll find out what you did and turn it against you."
"You can try," replied the captain softly.
She launched into another series of attacks, this time paying much more attention to how he blocked and attacked than trying to bull-rush him. Again and again they fought. The lieutenant lost track of how many times he managed to pin her down, lose the scimitar or just plain defeat her. It had to have been hours of practicing. It seemed as though every muscle on her body ached in pain from being bruised or whacked though she hoped none of it showed. Even Smoker despite his endless stamina seemed to be wearing down. Slowing as though moving through jello, and with a touch less force behind the swings, Keitha was relieved that she wasn't the only one getting sleepy.
Even with all the adrenaline coursing through her veins, it was starting to wear off so that in the midst of switching hands (which didn't throw Smoker off even the first time but at least gave one arm at a time the chance to rest) she was more likely to use her off-hand to stifle a yawn than for balance. After Smoker flicked the blade out of her grip yet again, Keitha yielded. "Break," she panted.
Smoker nodded, also seeming relieved at the interruption. The White Hunter ran gloved hands down his arms which Keitha bitterly hoped were aching just a little from swinging the stupid jitte for so long. Leaning against one of the many trees, Keitha started to realize that the lanterns seemed dimmer. Were they running out of fuel just as she was? She looked up through the leaves and in the distance spotted a spot of yellow and a tiny sliver streak of orange and pink.
Wearily, Keitha pointed at it, asking in numb amazement, "It's dawn?? Already?" 'All ready' was probably a poor choice of words on her part. As far as she was concerned it should have been dawn weeks ago and they must have been fighting for months. That Smoker not only continued fighting without much break but expected her to keep up was. . . intimidating. She respected him more than before, but it came with a small edge of fear that said, "This is not a man to mess with." Of course being Keitha, she rather liked it.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, taking a long drag from his cigars Smoker muttered, "Looks like it."
Keitha stared at him. "Please say this means we're going to stop," she begged. "Marines are going to be out here any second."
She was now convinced that whatever embarrassment he was trying to save wasn't on his end. He'd crushed her. Had she even managed to hit him once or twice? Had even felt weakened by the prescence of seastone so close at all? Almost hating herself for thinking it, Keitha suddenly understood where all the claims that he was a monster came from. He wasn't human; that was certain. Why had he wanted to keep it secret? Having a captain that was able to face down any swordsman he came across would have been a morale booster for his men. Were her suspicions true, was he really practicing in case he had to fight other marines?
Smoker nodded that they were done for the night. Seeing his assent, Keitha lost all pretense of endurance and slumped down to the ground heaving a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God. The last time I was beat this badly, Aiden made me wear a dress and sing 'I'm a little teapot' for pennies."
The marine captain grinned smugly, "I didn't say it would be easy."
"Easy?" Keitha choked, "I've never pitied pirates before but anyone on the end of your jitte deserves some sympathy. Ugh." She laid back rubbing sore muscles, "I'd hate to think how it would feel if I was a devil fruit user to boot."
Still grinning over his cigars Smoker retorted, "Next time I'll have to make a wager then."
"I think I learned my lesson on that with Aiden," Keitha frowned.
"Too bad," Smoker mused, "I was thinking of making it worth your while."
"Yeah?" Keitha's ears perked with interest as she got up to put the borrowed scimitar away.
Smoker nodded, "Of course you're still a thousand years too young to beat me."
Keitha grunted as though he'd just poked her in the ribs, "You're a very evil man sometimes Taisa," she complained.
Smoker continued grinning cockily as he headed for bed.
"Worried about seastone my butt," Keitha scowled to herself, placing the sword in its shed, which was much easier to do with the added light. "He's got nothing to worry about." She shivered slightly, the sweat which had been so sticky and uncomfortably warm earlier suddenly turning into ice in the cool morning air. As was too frequently the case for Keitha given that she was a spy, she'd been telling the complete truth about pitying anyone on the recieving end of his jitte attacks. They'd only been practicing and she mildly suspected he'd been going easy on her and even with that, he'd been ferocious. Scary even.
The lieutenant worried about her own mental stability sometimes. As scary as the captain was, for some reason that just made her more attracted to him. "Ferocious should NOT be an attractive quality," she scowled, relocking the door. The image of Smoker grinning with that stupid cocky I'm-so-much-better-than-you look came back to her. Despite being exhausted, her pulse quickened and she couldn't help grinning. He was adorable; that obnoxious monster of a captain. She still wanted to kick him in the head (just to prove that she's done it before and can and will do it again if she feels liek it) but it was coupled with a desire to kiss him and tangle fingers in his spikey green-grey hair. Clearly, she was insane.
Tilting her head to the side, Keitha caught the morning cries of seagulls and kitchen workers getting breakfast ready. If she didn't hurry she wouldn't make it to showers before they were all full. They might be full already. She sighed. She refused to go to bed still soaked in sweat, it was just too gross. Wondering if Smoker's showers had been fixed yet, a devious plot began forming in the lieutenant's head.
Hmmm it is harder to find time to write with Kyle around. Not that that's a bad thing ;)