Bounty Hunter [REWRITTEN VERSION]

Chapter 38: Contemplations

MAIZE

She felt better after the workout she had received sparing hand-to-hand with West. A much more satisfying workout than she would have gotten simply training on her own.

She had to admit, the detective had surprised her. Contrary to what she had said about his best shot being terrible, he wasn't entirely unskilled. That being her speak for; he was actually a good sparing partner.

They had both been pulling their punches with each other, not intending to cause any real damage other that a few harsh taps and maybe a few light bruises, but there was a lot you could tell about a person when you fought with them, and Maize had not wasted the opportunity to properly study the detective's combative strategies. Any other chance she had ever had to see him truly fight, she had been distracted with her own pesky annoyances.

He knew what he was doing, she wouldn't mind admitting that much to his face if it came down to it.

She did win their little sparring match, that fact was indisputable, despite the detective's more recent ending stunt that involuntarily left her face flush warm at the memory. She had to clear the flash back from her mind instantly before she started dwelling on it.

Maize had always narrowed it down to the fact that there were two types of fighters; those who thought and those who didn't. Those who thought always analysed their opponent before combat; studying their stances, searching for weak points, and then striking where they knew it would hurt. It wasn't something that everyone could do, and took years of training and experience to be able to the point where you always secured a victory. While those opposite to this methodology, did not. The detective was in the latter, relying on instinct and reflexes. While he did watch her movements, he wasn't planning ahead to calculate his next move. While he did end up falling for a lot of her tricks, he still managed to dodge out of the way just in time.

And what he couldn't dodge he made up for by blocking with his body. Evidently, the toned muscles beneath the fabric of the shirts her wore, that Maize had been privy to seeing on more than one occasion, were not just there for nothing. And to try and hit him anywhere more often than not in the time they were sparring, had left her knuckles slightly sore. Not that she would dare give him the pleasure of having any idea of that, knowing full and well that it would just go straight to his head.

He was an adequate fighter. Not as skilled or quick as she was, but he adapted. He was more brawn than agility compared to someone like her, and he knew that, so she could see him always making sure to keep his eyes in his weak spots. He knew where he was left open, and he knew that Maize was the type of opponent to exploit that weakness.

Maize's mind flashed back to the story Alec had told her about his childhood, and now she wondered if perhaps that cop that had raised him had taught him how to properly handle his own. Much like her own mentor had.

They weren't so different. The two of them.

But at the same time we are more different that not, she thought absently.

Then she shook the thought away.

There was no point in ruining her good mood with a grating slap of reality. Not now anyway, or so she thought. Then of course without a hint of warning the embarrassing image of her falling straight on top of him just had to jump into her mainstream of thoughts. Curse him, she mentally damned. Such a stupid little last minute stunt that had been completely unnecessary in her opinion, but that didn't matter, because it had happened anyway.