Hello boys and girls. Here is the second installment of Fight Night. Thanks to all those who made Part One my most reviewed one-shot ever. I'd also like to thank the man, the myth, the legend, mxpw, for his help with this story. Without his advice and beta work, it'd be a pale shadow of the story it is. I'd also like to thank Wepdiggy, but frankly, he was no help at all. (Just kidding dude).
Oh, and unless something really weird happens, "Innocence Part 20" should be posted tomorrow.
In the plain white surveillance van stopped in the parking garage of the four-star hotel, a low growl rumbled.
John Casey reacted. Wait…did he growl? It sounded like one of his growls. Particularly one of the growls he emitted when Bartowski was annoying him with some inane bit of sci-fi trivia. But he was fairly certain he hadn't just growled.
There it was again. Casey placed a hand on his chest. Nope. Not him. It wasn't the engine, for it was turned off. And it didn't appear to be coming from any of the surveillance equipment…
The blonde sat beside him, her head down, headset tucked over her ears, listening to the operation inside. Listening to Chuck make contact with the mark. A mark, Casey could objectively state, that had really nice legs. And a junction point in back where the legs came together. Actually, the whole package was quite nice.
Oh yeah. This mission was gonna go great.
24 hours ago Castle
On the video screen, General Diane Beckman conducted the teleconference.
"Her name is Anastasia Popova. For several years, it's been thought she had connections to Russian arms dealers. Tonight, we hope to confirm that connection."
Sarah, Casey, and Beckman all watched as Chuck experienced a flash. When his eyes rolled back to their proper place and he had suitably recovered, he said, "Wait, wait, wait. THAT Anastasia Popova?"
"Who is THAT Anastasia Popova?" Casey asked in annoyance.
"Anastasia Popova!" Chuck excitedly said. "She was the number one tennis player in the world! Had modeling and sponsorship contracts out the wazoo! And that was all by the time she was twenty-one. When I was in college, I had this poster of her. It was obviously staged, but she was returning a serve and a gust of wind blew up her skirt…" He happened to glance over and notice the scowl on Sarah's face. He also noticed the daggers she was glaring at him. "Uh, when I say I had this poster, what I mean is Bryce had it…"
"Please, Mr. Bartowski, continue to enlighten us with relevant details…" Beckman implored.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Anyway, she went from number one to done within eighteen months. Knee injuries, drug problems," Chuck's voice dropped off a bit, embarrassed, as he added, "sex scandals." In his regular voice, "That was about four years ago."
"Young, pretty, and disillusioned," Casey said. "Sounds like a recipe for bad behavior."
"So what's our strategy, General?" Chuck asked. He heard a low, angry rumble from the woman next to him.
"Tomorrow, Miss Popova will arrive in Los Angeles. Despite her tumultuous ejection from the WTA, she will be attending the women's final of the Los Angeles Open. Through discrete channels, we've set up a meet with Miss Popova. Mr Bartowski, you will assume your Charles Carmichael cover. Your cover will be as a wealthy computer magnate and long-time fan of Miss Popova. Use this cover to determine if she is indeed moving weapons on the black market."
The volume of the nearby rumble went from 2 to 4.
"How do I do that, General?"
"By any means necessary, of course."
The volume cranked up to a 7.
"I'm sure as a fan, excuse me, as the former roommate of a fan, that you can find a suitable strategy to this engagement."
Do secret agent grumbles go up to 11?
"Miss Walker, are you okay?"
Sarah snapped out of her haze. "Oh, uh, yes ma'am. Just have something caught in my throat."
Casey rolled his eyes. Oh yeah. This mission was gonna go great.
Liam Presents: Fight Night, Round Two
as Anastasia Popova
The Lexington Hotel – Parking Garage
"Would you like a drink, Mr. Carmichael?"
"Uh, sure. And call me Chuck."
The silence of the surveillance van was broken as Sarah snapped a pencil in half.
12 hours ago
Sarah's Hotel Room
"Sarah…" Chuck whined.
Sarah completely ignored him. "One more time," she insisted. "Let's go over the ground rules."
"Sarah, these ground rules are kinda limiting. The General said…"
"Who has sex with you every night?" Sarah snapped. "Me or the General?"
Chuck's eyes glazed over as though he was flashing. "Okay, I really didn't need to experience the imagery related to that last question."
"Charles Irving Bartowski…"
Chuck sighed and began to systematically rattle off Sarah's ground rules.
"No touching, no smiling, no flirting, no touching, no impure thoughts, no double entendres, no words that could be interpreted as double entendres, no touching, no kissing, and absolutely, positively, no sexual contact of any sort."
Chuck considered these ground rules. "Hold on, I think you said 'no touching' or a variation thereof like four times."
Sarah stared at him. "I know," she flatly stated. "And what will happen if you should break any of these rules?"
Chuck cringed. "Please, don't make me relive any of that imagery, either." Chuck then groaned as he relived that imagery against his will. "The feeding it to the dog part was simply over the top."
"I had to make my point clear."
"You know, I wouldn't limit you with these rules. I never like it when you have to get…friendly…with a mark. In fact, I downright hate it. But I would never restrict what you can or cannot do to get the job done."
"I know," Sarah said, straightening his tie. "And I love you for that. It's what makes you a good person and a good agent. There's only one thing."
She tightened the tie to an extreme, nearly strangling him. "I'm not so good a person. You're mine, buddy boy. Don't ever make even the momentary mistake of forgetting that. For if you do…"
"The dogs, gotcha."
"If I may be so bold, Chuck, perhaps we could retire to my room? We can have a drink in private?"
"Oh, you better not…"
"Uh, sure. That sounds great."
Unconsciously, Sarah withdrew her switchblade and flipped out the knife. SNAP!
8 hours ago
Los Angeles West Tennis Forum
As Chuck played the high roller, moving about the private boxes, Sarah and Casey moved about with the masses. Casey was actually into the match, grunting softly at each backhand. Sarah kept her fingers pressed to the receiver in her ear.
"I can't tell you how big a fan I am, Miss Popova."
"Please, Chuck, call me Ana."
Sarah slurped soda through a straw with frightening force.
"Thank you, Ana. I remember that French Open semi-final in 2003. You totally got hosed in that match. No way that ball landed in."
"I know! I have been saying this for years! The judge was blind!"
"Oh, but that Australian Open final in 2002? Total domination! You completely destroyed Jacova. You were never better."
"Thank you! I do consider that match my finest performance."
Sarah's hand slowly began to crush her cup.
"I find you quite charming, Chuck."
"Well, I, uh, I have my moments."
"You have marvelous hands. Would you think me forward if I asked you to demonstrate how strong they are?"
Sarah's blood boiled. Casey had trouble focusing on the task at hand, more concerned with the impending volcanic eruption two feet away.
"Mmm," Ana moaned. "That is so nice. Aaaaahhhh. Right there. Harder, Chuck. Please."
Sarah's left eye twitched. Very coolly, very calmly, she removed the headphones and set them aside. She stood, as much as one can in a van, and opened the rear doors. She hopped out and calmly began to walk towards the elevator.
Casey blinked, staring after her. "Do I stay or do I follow?" After a moment to consider, he threw away his own headphone set. "Screw it. I ain't gonna miss this."
On the plush couch of the suite's living room, a wide-eyed Chuck gave Ana a foot massage.
"Mmm," she hummed in approval. "You have very strong hands, Chuck."
"Well, uh," Chuck stammered. "I really have no response to that."
Both startled at the horrendous and terrifying war cry that sounded from the hall outside the suite. An instant later, something large and heavy impacted the door.
"Open the door, you sonofabitch!"
"Police?!" Ana cried, leaping to her feet.
"Worse," Chuck gulped. "My girlfriend."
Ana stared at him, shocked. "Girlfriend? Humph. And I thought you were a nice guy."
"Not that nice. You're cheating on your girlfriend."
There was another jarring impact on the door. A sharp metal edge broke through. An instant later, there was a crushing blow practically atop the handle and lock mechanism. From the next room, Ana's two bodyguards stormed in, ready to meet the threat.
The door flew open. There, like a blonde hurricane, stood Sarah Walker. In hand, a fireman's axe she commandeered from the hallway. She shot death daggers at the bodyguards.
"Don't be stupid," she warned them. "Because I will administer the circumcision from hell."
The bodyguards turned to Ana in trepidation. "Well?" she snapped. "Get her!"
The men shared a look. The veteran of the pair turned to Ana. "Sorry, Miss Popova, but she seems really scary."
Ana huffed as her bodyguards slid right past Sarah and fled the scene. That left her and Chuck alone with the blonde fury. And right now, her rage was directed at Chuck.
"You son of a bitch," she drawled. "How many times did we go over the ground rules?"
"Shut up!" Sarah shouted. "Or I swear I will cut off what you can't keep in your pants!"
"I said shut up! It was rule one, asshole. Do. Not. Touch." Chuck and Ana backpedaled. Sarah drew closer, clutching the axe to her chest. "And what do I hear over the radio? Her making 'O' noises!"
"I was only massaging her feet, I swear!" Chuck defended.
Sarah's manic eyes widened. She pointed an accusatory finger at Chuck. "Ah-ha! So you admit you were touching her?!"
"Gwah?" Chuck asked. Even a mind like his could understand there was no correct answer to this question.
"And you!" Sarah said, turning to Ana. "What sort of two-bit slut are you that you invite a man you just met up to your hotel room? Or did I answer my own question?"
"I am not a slut!" Ana defended.
"You lost ten million in sponsorship contracts because you were found to be a client of a male escort service!"
"It got lonely being on tour for eight months out of the year!" Ana snapped back.
To Chuck, Sarah said, "Believe me, you and I are gonna have a long talk when we get home." She turned back to Ana, "But you, bitch, get to experience a talking to right fucking now."
At that moment, Casey decided to enter. "Walker…" He promptly hit the deck as the axe impacted the wall, right where his head would have been. In shock, he managed to croak out, "You got this one, right?"
Track Listing: "Looks That Kill" by Motley Crue
As Sarah turned her attention back to Ana—
A roundhouse right hook slammed into her jaw. An instant later, the leggy brunette spun on a dime, executing a spinning kick that caught Sarah in the gut. She reeled from the blow, momentarily losing her breath. Ana smirked and assumed a fighting stance.
"I forgot to mention. Those four months a year I wasn't on tour? I studied various martial arts."
Ana moved to strike again, about to drive her fist into Sarah's nose. With her left hand, Sarah caught Ana's wrist, lifted her arm, and with her right hand tomahawked the brunette in the armpit. The ex-tennis star whimpered in pain.
"Bitch," Sarah scoffed. "Just because you're a weekend martial artist, don't think you can take me. I eat grown men for breakfast. You? You're barely an appetizer. I will chew you up and shit you out, Tinkerbell."
Sarah slammed her fist across Ana's jaw. The brunette stumbled. Sarah reached out and gripped the woman by the shoulders. Ana lashed back, striking her forehead against Sarah's brow.
"What is it you Americans say?" Ana asked. "Do not bite off more than you can chew?"
Ana moved forward, with incredible speed, and delivered a hard backhanded fist across Sarah's jaw. She quickly followed with a knee to the stomach, driving the blonde backwards onto the couch. She then leapt forward, straddling Sarah and wrapped her hands around her throat. As Ana choked her, Sarah blindly reached towards the end table where her hand found a glass ashtray. She brought it up, slamming it into Ana's temple.
Chuck rushed around the room and crouched by Casey, who was still splayed out on the floor. "Casey!" he cried. "Aren't you going to stop them?"
Casey grunted, amused. "Are you kidding? I was thinking about making popcorn."
Sarah used the opportunity to throw Ana aside to the couch. She quickly assumed the power position, pinning the brunette beneath her and wrapping her own hands around Ana's neck. Ana wrapped her long, lean legs around Sarah's waist, holding firm.
"Always suspected Walker would fight to be on top," Casey quipped.
Ana slammed her palms into Sarah's ear, stunning the blonde. Injured, she tried to break contact, but Ana held on, her legs firmly around Sarah's waist. She then wrapped her arms around Sarah's neck as the blonde reached under and around Ana's shoulders to grab two fistfuls of hair. As Sarah stood upright, she spun wildly, trying to shake Ana away.
"Leggo skank!" Sarah screamed.
"You let go!"
"No, you let go!"
Before Sarah even knew what was happening, Ana's lips were firmly pressed to her own. Sarah squeaked in surprise, and for the briefest of instants, she thought about deepening the lip lock—
But Ana broke away, using Sarah's moment of indecision. Legs still wrapped around Sarah's waist, she leaned backwards until she was hanging upside down. She lifted a blue crystal vase off the coffee table, pulled herself back up, and slammed the vase into Sarah's skull.
Ana released her hold and rolled away as Sarah crumpled back onto the couch. She suddenly produced a short dagger and attacked.
With both feet, Sarah kicked the coffee table. Ana saw it coming and leapt high in the air, the table skidding beneath her. It bought Sarah a precious moment. As Ana tried to recover the momentum of her attack, Sarah grabbed a couch cushion and leapt to her feet.
Ana brought the blade down in a violent arc, but Sarah blocked with the cushion, the blade burying deep inside. With a sharp twist, she wrenched the dagger from Ana's grasp and slung both blade and cushion away.
Ana lashed out with her long leg and booted Sarah in the gut. She quickly followed with a scissor kick, aimed at Sarah's chin, but the blonde blocked with her arms. Sarah smoothly countered with a backhand slap, spinning Ana, but the former athlete used the energy to spin and clock Sarah in the arm with a kick.
Sarah stumbled back and around, her eyes scanning the room. Grabbing a table lamp, she turned and threw it at Ana, the brunette ducking the object. But it allowed Sarah to sprint the short distance to the suite's kitchen where she rolled across a countertop.
Track Listing: "She's Got Balls" by AC/DC
Ana was right behind. She slid feet first across the counter, driving her boot into Sarah's gut. Sarah fell back, but grabbed Ana by the ankles.
"Bitch! I'm gonna wipe the floor with ya!"
She yanked hard, pulling Ana right off the counter and crashing to the floor.
"Ha!" Casey exclaimed. "Who knew Walker could pun?"
Sarah dragged Ana across the floor, pivoted, then slammed her into the cabinets. She wrapped her right arm around Ana's ankles and leaned forward, punching Ana in the face. Multiple times. But she got too close. Ana grabbed a fistful of blonde hair and pulled hard, slamming the top of Sarah's skull into the cabinets. Sarah loosened her grip on Ana's ankles and got a knee to the hip as a result, which threw her aside.
Ana stumbled to her feet and rushed towards another counter. She quickly unplugged the toaster.
Sarah got to her feet. She rushed forward—the toaster was spinning towards her face. She managed to throw up her hands to deflect the force of the blow, but she was thrown into the counter.
Like a lasso, Ana swung the toaster around her head, intent on smacking Sarah again. "Want toast?" Ana quipped. She brought it around, aimed at Sarah's head, but the blonde ducked at the last moment, the toaster shattering into the cabinet behind her.
Sarah charged forward, using her football skills again, lifting Ana up and driving her back into the refrigerator. She grabbed Ana by the hair and opened the fridge. "No," Sarah shot back. "But I'll take some juice. Why don't you look for some?"
She situated Ana's head just so, ready to slam the door into her skull. But Ana grabbed the first sold object she could find. She stomped on Sarah's foot, creating some separation. She spun and clocked Sarah across the jaw.
Sarah stumbled and clutched her cheek. She stared incredulously at the object in Ana's hand. "Bitch! Did you just hit me with a roll of summer sausage?"
Sure enough, Ana had smacked her with a roll of summer sausage. "So what if I did?" she snidely remarked.
"Savor it. Because that's the only eight inch sausage you're handling tonight."
Ana's eyes glazed over. "Seriously? Eight inches?"
Casey looked Chuck over, not quite believing it. "Seriously? Eight inches?" Chuck turned beet red and turned away.
"Well," Sarah shrugged. "Eight and a quarter, but who's measuring?"
"Apparently you are."
"Shut up, Casey!"
Sarah charged at Ana, throwing a series of wild punches. Ana blocked or deflected most of the blows, but a few impacted against the kidneys. Ana countered, using the summer sausage to parry a few shots, finally cracking Sarah against the skull once more when an opening appeared.
Ana pivoted gracefully, landing a roundhouse kick against the back of Sarah's shoulders, knocking her headlong into the cabinets. She vaulted across the countertop and raced towards the bedroom.
Track Listing: "Back in the Saddle" by Aerosmith
Ana leapt upon her bed and crawled to the nightstand. She ripped open the top drawer and reached for the hunting blade inside.
Sarah flew across the room, leaping upon Ana's back like a rider upon a bronco. Her hand went over the top of Ana's and she began to slam her foe's hand hard into the nightstand, forcing her to drop the knife.
"I've always wanted a private tennis instructor," Sarah grunted. "I need to work on my serve and volley."
"Really?" Ana snapped back. "That's funny. I was always known for my backhand." Ana blindly threw an elbow behind her, catching Sarah in the gut. It allowed enough separation for Ana to demonstrate her backhand, slapping Sarah hard.
The blonde rolled away to the bed. Ana instantly straddled her and blindly reached back into the nightstand for the hunting blade. She yanked it out and placed the blade to Sarah's throat— only it wasn't a knife. It was an eight-inch long glass phallus.
"Shit!" Ana bemoaned.
Sarah craned her head down and stared at the object pressed to her throat. "I think you gotta stab me about two feet lower for that to be effective."
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ana snapped.
"Honey, I think you're in the position to tell me what I like." Sarah's brow furrowed. "Did I say that aloud? Good Lord…"
With a curious expression, Ana took a moment to study the warm, hard body beneath her. "Wait, are you…"
Wide-eyed, Sarah insisted, "Don't think too hard about it."
Before Ana could think too hard about it, Sarah grabbed onto the phallus and wrenched. She brought a knee up into Ana's groin and threw the girl aside. Ana rolled away, trying to find her feet. But Sarah was too quick. She smacked Ana across the back of her skull like she was wielding a Billy club. Ana collapsed to the floor, seemingly unconscious.
Panting heavily, Sarah stared at the fallen woman and the weapon in hand.
"Holy crap!" Casey said. Her partner was standing in the doorway. Chuck was beside him, horrified. "Did you just beat a girl unconscious with a dildo?" her partner asked. Sarah blankly stared back. Casey erupted into laughter. "Oh yeah! That's going in my diary. Dear Diary, my partner nearly killed a girl with a fake pecker. It was the best Christmas ever."
Sarah dropped her weapon and slid off the bed, where she stood over her adversary's body. As she flipped the woman over—
A palm came crashing up beneath her chin. With a quick leg sweep, Sarah was knocked off her feet and landed hard on her ass.
"Ah!" she screamed. "I landed on the dildo!"
Casey cackled with laughter.
With a sharp kick across the jaw, Sarah was knocked down. Ana got to her feet and clutched a fistful of blonde hair, dragging her foe upright. She slung Sarah and sent her crashing through the bathroom door.
Track Listing: "Stranglehold" by Ted Nugent
Sarah slid across the tile, her head bumping against the toilet. Ana rushed in and grabbed her curling iron. She slashed downward, catching Sarah across the temple as she attempted to get up.
"First off!" Anna yelled. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend!"
She cracked Sarah again.
"If I did, I wouldn't have brought him up! I'm not some boyfriend stealing whore! That's what pay-dates are for. No fuss, no muss."
Another crack against the skull.
"Second! Do not judge me! I was a career woman, with no time for a relationship! I had needs!"
Another crack against the skull.
"And third! Once I kill you, he won't have a girlfriend, will he? So he'll be fair game! Whoop!"
Ana crashed to the floor, felled by Sarah's own leg sweep.
"First off!" Sarah screamed back. "He does have a girlfriend and you are a boyfriend stealing whore!"
Sarah got to her feet first. She yanked a bath towel off the rack.
"Second, only losers pay for it!"
Ana staggered to her feet. Behind her, Sarah rolled the towel up and wrapped it around Ana's neck a couple times like a garrote and began to pull.
"And third! I'm gonna kill you!"
Ana flailed wildly. She leapt up, landing both feet on the sink counter and pushed off, driving them both backwards, slamming Sarah into the wall behind them. But the blonde kept a firm grip.
Ana spun about the room, Sarah practically riding on her back. Their heads crashed into the glass shower pane. Both suffered lacerations, blood flowing free. But still, Sarah refused to let go.
Ana finally began to lose steam. She collapsed to her knees. Sarah dragged her enemy towards the toilet. So she wouldn't lose her grip on the garrote, Sarah flipped the toilet lid and seat up with her foot. She dragged her semi-conscious foe over and forced her face into the stool, giving her a long, cool drink of water.
"Tennis sucks, bitch!"
33 Minutes Later
The Lexington – Master Bathroom
Ana awoke to a warm sensation all over her body. As consciousness slowly returned to her, she noticed how she was stripped down to her underwear. She was also handcuffed and hanging by her wrists from the showerhead.
Sarah Walker stood before her, also stripped down to her underwear, equally soaking wet. And her focus was entirely on the woman handcuffed before her.
"Any opening comments, bitch?" Sarah snarled.
"Whu…why are we in a hot shower stripped down to our underwear?" the Russian asked in confusion.
Whatever Sarah was expecting, it wasn't that. She thought hard for an answer, but could only come up with, "Uh…because." She slapped Ana. Hard. "Shut up! I'm the one asking questions! Now tell me again why you think it's okay to touch my boyfriend?"
"I didn't know he was your boyfriend! It's not like he had your name on him!"
The shower curtain suddenly jerked open. Casey poked in and casually observed the scene, unperturbed by the sight of the two nearly naked women. "Hey, Walker, I realize I'm interrupting crazy time, but if you get a moment, think you could ask her about the weapons?"
Sarah stared incredulously. "The bitch was hitting on my boyfriend and you're worried about illegal weapons? Get some perspective, Casey."
Casey returned her incredulous stare with a blank one of his own. "Uh…okay." He retreated and closed the curtain. Then, a few seconds later, he reappeared and said, "I'm just saying, if you get around to it…"
"Okay." As Casey shuffled away, he could be heard to say, "Crazy bitch."
Sarah brushed a thick strand of wet hair behind her ear and regained her composure. She absently waved about a large carving knife. "Okay, where were we?"
"He's your boyfriend and I shouldn't touch him."
"Right! Do you have any idea who you're messing with?"
Track Listing: "Hair of the Dog" by Nazareth
"Okay," Sarah explained. "Now you get tell me what the fuck you were doing messing with my boyfriend."
"What about the weapons?" Ana grunted. "What if I…"
Sarah simply shrugged away the suggestion. "Yeah, yeah. Weapons shipment, dirty money, bad men, whatever. Don't change the subject. We're talking about how you're a dirty slut."
In the living area, Chuck and Casey waited. The latter seemed quite comfortable, sipping champagne he ordered from room service and watching baseball on the plasma screen. Chuck tapped his foot nervously and kept glancing towards the bedroom.
"Are they…do you think…should we stop her?" Chuck asked.
Casey spared a glance. "Not really. But hey, if you wanna try to talk with an angry, knife wielding, psycho jealous Sarah Walker, be my guest."
"Hey Casey!" Sarah called out. "Can you call room service and order some trash bags? Industrial strength!" There was a loud crash. "Oh! And some bleach and steel wool!" Another loud crash. "Son of a bitch!" A third loud crash. "Casey! Fetch me that axe, would ya?"
2 hours later
Los Angeles alleyway
"Chuck, hand me that last bag, would ya?"
Chuck stared at the bulky, double bagged bundle in the back of their surveillance van. He gulped. "I'd rather not."
Sarah huffed. "Wuss. It's a good thing you have a sweet ass."
She grabbed the garbage bag and slung it into the trash dumpster. She then withdrew a fresh pack of Marlboros. She unwrapped the pack, withdrew a single smoke, and tossed the rest into the dumpster. She lit up, took a single deep drag, and flicked the burning cigarette into the dumpster. An inferno instantly ignited. The job done, Sarah grabbed the two empty gasoline canisters and tossed them back into the van.
"I love you, Chuck. No matter what happens, I'll always love you."
Chuck stood there stiffly, not knowing what to say. "Okay."
"It's not your fault. I may scream and fuss, but it isn't because I'm angry with you. You can hardly be faulted for being so darn irresistible. It's these women who don't know their proper place, who won't stop messing with what's mine."
Sarah snapped away her bloody rubber gloves and stroked his cheek affectionately, a weepy smile upon her face. Chuck continued to just stand there.
"For so long I stood by idly. I let other women sweep in and have you. No more, Chuck. I want you to know, I will always fight for you."
"Well…thanks. I appreciate that."
Sarah softly pressed her lips to his. "Come on. We got the bad guy, she gave up the guns and her contacts, and the world's a safer place. Let's go home and have victory sex."
Chuck shrugged, oddly accepting of the notion. "Okay."
They hopped into the van. Soon as the doors shut, Casey started the engine. "Hey Sarah?" Chuck said.
"Fighting for me…that's good. But next time, you think you can hit the brakes before the killing part?"
Sarah smiled and took his hand. "No promises. But for you I'll try."
"Well. I guess trying is all I can ask for."
Sarah bounced her legs feverishly, full of excess adrenaline. "I am so wired. Our sex tonight is gonna be all-time fantastic."
Both jolted in their seats as Casey unintentionally swerved. He shot them a harsh look. Chuck just stared wide-eyed. Sarah was completely oblivious to both.
"Bit of a shame to kill her," Sarah admitted. "She had a really nice ass."
As Casey swerved again, Chuck couldn't help but cry out:
Coming…sometime…Fight Night, Round 3.