Disclaimer: That should cover it.
A/N: This is how I study. Yes, I know I'm not doing it right.
Jundao: my OTCP (one true crack pairing)
They've been walking out of each other's orbits for years. Chances were against them, that the bounty hunter and the swordsman would ever meet, that their paths would ever cross for more than an instant. Fate decided otherwise.
If he hadn't heard her laugh, he never would have looked her way. He never would have noticed that the pretty bar girl wasn't a bar girl at all. Because a moment is all it takes, and that was all he had before he was forced to duck to avoid being hit with the man she'd just tossed across his table.
That guy had been staring at her for the longest time. It was beginning to be aggravating. She turned to him.
"Do you have a problem?"
He finally blinked.
"Yes. I don't know your name."
Now it was her turn to stare.
"So what are you, like a wandering swordsman?"
"No, I usually know where I'm going."
"Odd that your destinations happen to be the same as mine. And I am wandering."
"Life is a mystery, isn't it?"
They doubled back to avoid the guard's route, backtracked through an alley, scrambled through a crowded market, and ducked behind a fruit vendor's stand.
It wasn't until after she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and once the tromping of their boots passed that she noticed that they were holding hands. She snatched hers away like she'd been branded.
"Just to clarify, you were holding my hand."
"Whatever you say, lady."
It wasn't like she didn't notice. It wasn't like she was blind. It wasn't that she wasn't straight.
She just wasn't sure that he was her type. He was all privileged, and rich, and oddly considerate, and kept trying to figure her out and…
Yeah, there was something wrong with her.
Two strangers walked into a bar, and the smuggler screamed like a little girl upon seeing the woman. When the man had to duck to avoid being hit with another man, he had the vaguest sense of déjà vu.
She stared down at the blood that covered her hands. Hands that couldn't save a life. Hands that seemed to be able to do little good.
A wash cloth was pressed into her hands. When she didn't respond, the dark hands took hers and wiped them clean.
"He's gone. I'm sorry."
She cleared her throat.
"Will you be all right?"
"...fine. It's just…dammit all! There was just so much money riding on this live bounty!"