A Clichéd Love Story

She was in the same hideous glasses, and the uniform did nothing for her, but he couldn't get the woman of last night out of his mind. As he fastened her buckles, he began to draw parallels between the fantasy of last night and the woman in front of him now; the long limbs, flawless skin, and full lips. As he went through the motions of tightening the straps of the armor, he indulged himself by tracing the length of her spine between them.

"Do that again, and I'll break your legs," she said slowly.

Moving in front of her, he knelt, while she moved behind him and with a brisk and brutal hand, helped him with his padding. She refused to admire the breadth of his shoulders or the way he smelled. Formal as ever, they bowed, got to their feet and bowed again.

"Don't get yourself killed," was all he said, and then he smiled slightly, his blue eyes twinkling. She wondered briefly if he was flirting, and then dismissed it. She had better things to do.

With a lot of ceremony, the fights began.

With powerful legs and arms Kassandra cut down one after another. She never remembered the details of a fight; for some reason her conscious mind shut off and all she saw were openings, breaches in her opponents' guard. All she heard was the blood beating in her ears and the sound of her own heavy breathing through the thick plastic of her helmet.

By the end of the day, she'd torn her knuckles open on her left hand, and the two she used for punching were severely bruised. Her arms and legs ached, and one of her toes wasn't bending properly, but she'd made it to the semi finals, and that was enough. She was exhausted. For the first time in two days, the only thing she was fantasizing about was sleep.

Kassandra was one of those people who knew her strengths, and one of them happened to be an unnatural knack for avoiding people. She made it back to the hotel without having to deal with Harker or anyone else. She declined Alice's invite to a Broadway show, citing exhaustion and sore muscles and stepped into a hot shower. Twenty minutes of privacy under the steaming spray softened her skin and made her feel almost human again. It also enhanced every one of her aches, making her dream of ice and a professional massage. Stepping out of the shower, she smoothed moisturizer into her skin and pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top.

Room service, a bucket of ice, and a movie sounded like heaven. To her relief, the hallway was clear. Bucket in hand she made her way to the ice machine.

At that same moment, Harker was stepping out of his room. He didn't feel like spending another night cooped up by himself and figured he'd see if there was a Jazz club or something in the area.

The woman in front of the ice machine stopped him dead in his tracks. The tank top she wore exposed the smooth expanse of her back, and wouldn't accommodate a bra. Her flimsy plaid boxers revealed long, gorgeous legs and an ass so beautiful he stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from touching it. Harker's hands fisted as he felt his jeans get painfully tight. He didn't have to talk to her, he told himself. He could ignore her, but try as he might, he couldn't move his legs.

"How are your knuckles?" he asked.

Kassandra's spine stiffened, and with a sigh, she realized she was too tired to pick a fight.

"They feel like they've been run over a cheese grater," she said with her back to him.

"Hit the helmets a lot?"

"It wins points and it's not the first time," she said over her shoulder.

"You know . . . I watched you fight . . . you're quite good." Hard and brutal, but there was a grace to her movements she probably wasn't aware of.

Kassandra turned and raised her brows. "A compliment? From you? Are you feeling ok?"

"I can't give you a compliment?"

"You hate my guts."

"Point taken," he said with a nod, "though I'm not so sure about that anymore . . . "

"Well I am," she said, picking up the bucket, "I still don't like you"

"Why?"

She stopped in her tracks and turned back to him.

"You take yourself too seriously. Isn't it exhausting to frown and nitpick all day?"

"Never," he said with mock outrage, and then he added hastily, "I don't do it all day. The guy you see in class isn't the real, every day me."

Kassandra arched a brow. "I suppose the second you change out of uniform you become the friendly, easy-going guy everyone likes, is that it? You're going to have to do better than that, Harker, if you want my friendship," she said dismissively. Before tonight he'd never noticed the way she spoke; elegant and precise, like the dialogue in an old English novel.

"How can I do better when you've never given me a chance?" the anger was up. It was much more familiar than the arousal.

"You're a hypocrite, Harker!" she spat. "You can't possibly expect me to extend a courtesy that you wouldn't deign to extend to me."

"You're right," he conceded, to her obvious shock. "How about we start fresh? Let's get to know each other not as martial artists, but as garden variety people. Who knows? We might even like each other."

He expected her to answer with that same cold derision, but to his surprise, she put down her bucket and bust out laughing.

"Sure!" she said doubling over, "...when pigs fly! And the Beatles get back together! And Jimmy Hoffa comes out of hiding! Hell Harker! I didn't know you were capable of joking!"

Her laugh was infectious, and despite the fact that she was doing it at his expense, he found himself fighting a grin. "I'm serious," he said at last.

"I know," she replied on a calming breath, "...but I don't think it's a good idea. I don't want any trouble. I'm too fucking tired and I don't owe you anything, so why don't you find a dark corner to meditate in, and I'll bid you goodnight."

Harker grabbed her arm.

"For every time you've accidentally kicked me in the crotch during training, I'd say the least you owe me is a drink."

Kassandra glared at him, and suddenly realized she was in the mood to fight after all.

"I'd say that for every time you've lectured me about inappropriate behavior in the dojo, I'd say we're even. Go to hell, Harker!"

She tried to run off again but his grip on her arm held firm.

"Didn't your mother teach you any warrior's discipline?"

Kassandra laughed. "You colossal moron, do you even know what part of Asia my mother is from? Well I'll tell you. It's not Japan; my mother's people hate the Japanese, Karate included, for what they did to her family during the war. She's notorious for holding grudges!"

"Apparently so are you."

"She's pissed at me for taking up this martial art," Kassandra continued, "and she's pissed at me for being in New York, with you, getting the shit kicked out of me in the hope of winning some trophy!"

"Then why are you here?"

"Travels, thrills, excitement, and more importantly, to fight."

"You are no fighter!" he spat, though they both knew it wasn't true.

"Fine! You're an asshole!"

Neither knew how much longer the shouting went on, nor for that matter, were they entirely sure who moved first. All Kassandra knew was that one minute they were yelling at each other, and the next minute, she was up against the wall, with Harker's mouth fused to hers.

She dropped the bucket and raised her arms, but she wasn't entirely sure what to do with them. She was going to push him away, she had to push him away, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. His lips were soft but firm and as she stood there, nearly numb from a combination of shock and arousal, his body pressed against her and she moaned helplessly. His hands were on her face now, tilting her head to give him better access.

Her lips parted of their own accord, and suddenly his tongue was in her mouth. He tasted clean, as though he'd just brushed his teeth, and suddenly she was kissing him back, her tongue meeting his, her teeth sinking into his lower lip. She knew what to do with her arms now, and as every inch of that hard muscled body pressed her more firmly into the wall, they wrapped themselves around his broad back and held on for dear life. Her hands fisted in his shirt, and as she felt his erection press against her, she gasped and sucked on his tongue.

His hands were in her hair now, wrapping the silky strands around his fingers. He'd expected Kassandra to be sour, acidic even, but to his surprise, she was sweet, and tasted every bit as good as she looked. He couldn't get enough. She went still with shock when their lips met, and then she stiffened, and just as quickly she kissed him back, her kiss as fierce and maddening as when she fought. Just as suddenly she moved, rolling him so he was against the wall and her soft strong body pressed tightly against him, her breasts flattening themselves against his chest. As her busy hands moved over his chest and down his stomach, he fell backward, propelling her toward the door of her room. There was only one thing on his mind, and as she tilted her hips forward and smiled knowingly against his lips, he knew she wanted it just as badly.

They were interrupted by the sound of giggles, and someone clearing their throat. Kassandra and Will, turned their heads their arms still locked to one another. It was Alice, Raph, and five other brown and green belts, all standing stock still, grinning from ear to ear.

As there was no real way to explain it, Kassandra took up the most rational course of action, and with both hands on the wall, thrust a hard and willing Harker away from her. Doing her damndest to calm her breathing, she cleared her throat and tried for nonchalance.

"I thought you guys were going to a show."

"It doesn't start for another hour, and the theater's not far from here. We were hoping the two of you would change your minds."

Kassandra feigned a yawn and picked up her bucket.

"Thanks but no thanks, I'm exhausted. Can I take a rain check?"

Harker could see them biting back smiles as the group looked from him to Kassandra, and shrugged. To the relief of both, the crowd quickly dispersed and they were spared the embarrassment.

He turned back to Kassandra but she had already filled her bucket and was making a beeline for her room. Harker knew he should do the same but his heart rate was up, and he could still taste her. She wasn't going to avoid him now, he decided. He wanted her too badly. With a fast hand, Harker caught her by the seat of her shorts. She stilled, and with one move, spun around, shoving him away with a single back kick. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, and her hair fell over her shoulder as she glared at him, breathing heavily.

"I'm not your type," she said simply.

"Judging from two minutes ago, I beg to differ."

Kassandra swallowed slowly. If she was nervous, it didn't reach her eyes.

"Beg all you want, Harker," she said, running a fingertip over his chest. "As tempting as it sounds, it's not going to happen. I have a tournament to finish. I need ice, food, and sleep, nothing more!"

She turned to open her door, but Harker didn't give up easily . . . not when it came to women. It was more than a little irritating to realize that he finally saw her as one.

"You seem really stressed. You haven't had sex in a while, have you?" he asked with a grin.

With one hand on the doorknob, she turned back to him and glared. "I have no interest in sleeping with you."

"You're very interested," he corrected.

He saw her narrow fingers tighten on the doorknob. Her face colored, and her next words were spoken through gritted teeth. "You want me to admit that I want you? Fine! Dogs and cats fuck all the time; they don't have to like each other. Too bad for you I'm not a dog or a cat. Goodnight Harker, and good luck tomorrow."

"This isn't over Troy . . . "

"Oh it is," she said slowly, and before he could answer, she'd slammed the door in his face.

"The tournament ends tomorrow," he said softly, staring at her door, "after that, you're fair game; good luck getting to sleep, Kassandra," and with that, he went back to his room.

***

"So what do you think?" Raph asked as he and Alice attacked the burger and fries they'd dubbed their dinner.

"Well," she replied, pondering a French fry, "Would it be immature of me to say I told you so?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, I told you so," Alice smiled.

"How long before they're fucking?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"I give them two weeks."

"Two weeks? You think too highly of them. I give them two days, max."

"For how much?"

Raph checked his wallet and frowned. "Ten bucks?"

"Make it twenty."

Raph stared at her proffered hand and shrugged. He knew Harker. The man was as determined as he was stubborn, and he had every bit of faith in Kassandra's involuntary charms. She was hot headed and stubborn; the kind of behavior that would only egg him on. Despite all their fights, he agreed with Alice that Will and Kassandra were too similar for their own good. The only way to put a stop to their blood feud was by giving them a push in the right direction, straight into each other's arms. With a knowing grin, Raph picked up his soda and toasted her with it.

"You're on," he said.

***

And while Raph and Alice were debating how long it would take their friends to jump each other, Harker was thinking strategy. He wanted Kassandra out of his system, and that meant getting her into bed, or on the floor, or a couch, or in the back seat of a car. Despite her sniping denials, she wanted him; he was experienced enough to know that. All he had to do was convince her to act on it. It wasn't going to be easy, he thought with a frown. He knew Kassandra was just as stubborn as he was, which meant she'd put up a hell of a fight.

I'll get her, he promised himself, and then everything will go back to normal. Feeling much better, Harker took a cold shower and slept.

***

The next day, Kassandra was angry and ready for battle. The ointment she'd smeared on her knuckles had taken care of the pain, and a cold shower had temporarily killed the arousal. She'd slept hard and dreamed vividly, reliving that fantasy over and over until she woke up frustrated and irritable. She knew she'd be fine once she entered the ring. There was nothing that took the edge off a strong emotion than pummeling your fists into someone's face. She successfully avoided him at breakfast, and managed to steer clear of him during the morning's proceedings. Harker fought his fights, Kassandra fought hers, and as she made her way into the finals, she congratulated herself for successfully avoiding him. There was a lunch break before the final matches, and she sat herself down in a corner of the room. She was just cracking her shake open when someone stepped in front of her.

She looked up and saw the man she'd beaten in her last fight. He was short, and Asian, with a shaved head and face that vaguely reminded her of one of those cartoon ninja turtles.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

He had one of the kindest smiles Kassandra had ever seen, and seeing Harker brooding in the background only egged her on. The man had been watching her all morning, and the irritation it caused had nearly lost her the first fight of the day. He stared at her like he was going to eat her, and she didn't like it. She had to make it clear she'd rather screw a turtle than an ass. With a smile, she gestured to the mat she was sitting on and engaged in small talk with Jimmy Xang, martial artist from NYU. He was a nice guy, but he didn't exactly make her tingle. She was using him to make a point, and would have felt guilty about it if she'd had any intention of meeting him after the tournament.

Kassandra knew that Harker was watching her. There was no way to ignore those bright blue eyes when they focused on you. It was as though those eyes could see right through you; the intensity of his stare was almost as intimidating as hers. Though they'd looked at her with contempt in the past, today they were mentally undressing her. Kassandra couldn't decide if it was arousing or annoying, but whatever the effect, she managed to get it together for the last few fights.

The rest of the tournament was a blur. The next thing she knew, she was back in her corner, chatting with Alice while the judges tabulated their scores. She saw Harker coming back from the men's finals but refused to look at him as he sat beside her on the bench.

Harker didn't like being jealous. Jealousy clouded your mind and affected your performance. Until he had her, no one, especially some martial artist from New York, was going to touch her. So he placed himself at her side in a gesture he knew was proprietary. Harker didn't know if it was boredom or the interest caused by a hormonal overload, but for the first time he actually listened to her conversation. They were chatting about some event in American politics and as he moved closer, he was surprised by Kassandra's intelligence.

He didn't agree with everything she said, and she punctuated every argument with a bad joke, but it suited her. Despite his better judgment, and all her faults, he found himself liking her more every minute. There was only an hour before the judges made their final announcements, and in that brief period, Will's plans shifted from a simple matter of seducing her to something infinitely more complex...not to mention annoying.

If Kassandra had any idea what Harker was thinking, chances are she would have run screaming for the hills. He spent the last hour of the tournament with his side inches from hers. Listening intently to the conversations she had with the other students. It was irritating as hell, and she was convinced he did so just to make her nervous. He never participated; he just sat there, watching, listening, and undoubtedly judging her.

The judges finally made their announcements. Kassandra placed third in her division, while Will was recognized for his grace in the forms competition. As Harker moved to collect his trophy, he grabbed her, kissing Kassandra soundly in front of a couple of hundred of North America's best martial artists. She let herself taste him for only a second before shoving him violently away in her embarrassment. She fought every instinct to punch that cocky grin off his face, and through a haze of arousal and irritation, she looked at the crowd. Some were smiling, some frowning.

She looked at Janus, expecting a look of consternation, but his expression was one of sudden understanding. No one said anything to her as people bowed and cheered. It was a big deal for such a small school to receive such honors, and Janus congratulated them for their behavior during the competition. There was a lot of hand shaking, bowing, and pats on the back. The proceedings halted only to take a bunch of pictures. With a lot of smiles and cheers, they made plans to meet up at ten for drinks.

Kassandra ate a light supper while Alice showered. When her friend left the room to get some dinner, she stepped into the shower and let the hot water heal the aches brought on by two days of fighting. Hoping to get some work done before going out, she slid into a pair of boxers and a tank top, threw a towel over her shoulders, and seated herself in front of her laptop. She heard the door open and close, and went right on typing.

"It's not time to go yet, is it Alice?"

"We're not going," a deep male voice said.

Her breath caught in her throat and she turned and stood, picking up her hairbrush just so she'd have something to fidget with. Her shriek could have cracked glass. There, against the door of her hotel room, stood Will Harker, the man of her unwelcome dreams, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt that may as well have been painted on. Kassandra tried not to groan.