She started talking more about combat, and he smiled a bit as he nodded. "Expectation is different from reality." That was always the case. He'd run into many who had an expectation for what a fight was, and thus, when he killed them, they often died too fast to be surprised. Though some also spoke to the trauma of killing, he couldn't say he felt too much of a burden from it.

"It helps with muscle memory. Form is important, though alone it is just a framework." Just as soon as their interesting conversation about killing had started, it was over. He watched her limp out of the room, and his eyes widened.

Oh. She was going to slip into something more comfortable.

He stood, and looked around. The bed was laid out, No, wasn't the type to lay and wait. He would be better off getting out of these sweaty clothes. Taking off his track suit jacket, and his under shirt, he looked over as the sun peeked through the blinds, showering him in rays of light.

He heard her voice from the other room, stretched lightly as he responded. "I have not. Though I usually eat after." He looked over as she appeared again with the sheets to the bed in hand. As he reached out to grab them, he noticed the knee brace.

That might complicate things... Though... No, he knew plenty of ways to make things happen with that in the way. If she was determined, he would accommodate.

Setting up at bed at 9am was pretty determined, if you asked him.

Ah, so he liked to jog on an empty stomach? Eh. Personal choice she supposed. Annie at least liked to have a cookie and a cup of coffee in her beforehand.

She'd been about to say more but then she turned and actually caught sight of him and the words died on her lips. She might have stuttered a little. Eyes widened, face flushed almost nearly entirely red, and she suddenly had an iron-clad grip on the sheets and pillowcases in her hand.

... when had he removed his shirt?!

The light filtering in from outside hit him in just such a way that her breath was stolen from her and she had to stumble back a little into the doorframe for support. He was striking, for lack of better words. The light hit all his muscles and tattoo's just right. She would have bet money on there suddenly being some kind of steamy effect in the room.

She definitely felt her blood pressure spike to... honestly concerning levels, and the worst part is she didn't know what to do! The sultry tiger that she liked to think lived inside of her was being super LOUD right then with all sorts of directions.

Tackle him!

Ravage him!

Show him your garter! Get it, gurl!

But her actual creampuff filling was desperately clinging to this being all some painful sort of misunderstanding. Like.... he'd totally taken his shirt off because it was sweaty, right? Totally! That was the whole reason she had changed, too.

He stepped closer and she could feel her skin prickle in a warning. She wasn't sure what the danger was, probably only just her own big dumb head trying to get her to spring on him again, but it caused her to lock up a little. When he reached for the sheets that seemed to snap her out of it a little.

"O-oh! Hang on a second, I think I have something that will work."

... Had she even said out loud what she was responding to herself with? She didn't think she had. He was definitely going to think she was crazy.

She pushed the sheets at him and turned to vanish into her room again, not bothering to close the door this time as she wasn't changing. She ruffled through her t-shirt drawer until she found it, twitched nervously, and then turned to head back out to give it to him.

It was her Pizza Cat t-shirt. Entirely too big for her (she swam in it) but the only thing she owned that might fit him. He was pretty m.... muscular.

He placed a hand on the sheets, watching her quietly as she warmed at the face. Interesting. Was she running a fever? No... He'd seen this before. A small smirk made its way onto his face, which was interrupted when she suddenly pressed the sheets onto him, and he grinned as she stormed off.

He tossed the sheets onto the fold out bed, letting them land in their folded state.

She returned moments later, and handed him a silly shirt that he was absolutely going to be wearing later. He reached out to grab it from her hands... and tossed it to the side as well, before grabbing her hand gently, and placing her palm against his chest. With his other hand, he would aim reach down to the base of her neck, and pull her into a deep kiss.

Her face continued to redden. All of her blood was rushing to her face and if she didn't calm down soon she was absolutely sure she was going to pass out.

Or explode.

Something bad, anyway!

It worsened when the shirt she'd gotten him was instantly abandoned with the sheets, and then she was touching his chest, and then he was touching the base of her neck and then leaning in and--

Her phone, which was across the room where she had abandoned all of the other stuff from jogging, started ringing in an elegant chime. She immidiately took initiative to duck right out of his grip and all but flew across the room to it. Leg brace be damned!

As she checked it, it turned out to only be a reminder of her approaching range appointment. She tried to ignore how jostled she was due to a damn close near kiss. Her hands were shaking a bit! Arg!

"Shit, I almost forgot about the range today!"

Her phone clacked back onto the table and she reached for her bellyband holster to hook it back on around her waist.

"Would, you.. um... wanna come? I could show you proper technique since you are interested and all."

Was her face still red? Yup. The slight reflection of her window didn't lie. She was definitely still cherry tomato red. She tried to calm herself back down again as she tucked away her extra clip, folding knife, and pepper spray.

He... by nature, destroyed a lot of phones. Phones didn't agree with him. He was a fighter. He tended to fry phones that were minding their own business in his pocket. Hundreds of phones had been lost to him, and never once had he just wanted to break a phone of his own volition. Until now.

He hated that phone. He wanted to throw it off of a cliff into spikes, hit it with lightning bolts on the way down. He looked over to the source of the sound, and she took that opportunity to duck away and make range.

@#$%.

His lingering neck bracing hand clenched into a fist for a second, and he stood tall, watching her with a raised eyebrow as she announced that she had a planned stip to the range. Range... Home on the range?... wilderness? She invited him to the wilderness to show him proper technique... Interesting."

He smiled a bit. "Yes." It was cramped here, after all, and perhaps what she had planned required more space. Okay, he was in. He was excited, even!

He put on the pizza cat T shirt. "I am ready."

Yes! He agreed! She was given a very welcome excuse to hide behind reprieve from the moment of...um... romance? Oh, gosh, that had been awfully romantic. Like one of the scenarios ripped straight out of a movie. Which, funnily enough, what Annie loved to fantasize about the most. Passionate kissing and firm embraces and-

Stopityou'llrileyourselfupagain!

"Great! I'll drive us there."

She gathered up the few other things she would need, snagged her car keys, and then led him out of her apartment and down to the street again. Her car was parked not too far away, just around the back of the building where there was "resident parking"... which in reality was nothing more than an empty lot from when the Laundromat had used to be a small grocery store years ago. Now, instead of trucks pulling in back there to deliver goods, everybody who was lucky or brave enough to own a car parked there. Her's was a red, mid-sized four-door, with black interior. It was in great condition for being a handful of years old by that point because she made sure to take care of it.

She unlocked it as they approached so that he could get in, showed him where to move the seat back if he needed more room for his swords, and started it up. It wouldn't take long for it to become obvious that she was a New Yorker through and through, and that while she'd moved out of her old neighborhood many years ago, it was still in her just under the skin.

They made it to her time slot in time, but not before she'd threatened physical violence on numerous bad drivers multiple times, even getting out of the car shortly at one point so that she could better yell at another driver in the opposing lane, while all cars were stopped. The few sips of alcohol she'd had didn't help at all.

They made it there in one piece and after getting 'checked in' with a guest, the writer could finally stop filling in backstory.

"Do you want me to pick you out a gun to use, or do you wanna test fire some? I'm paying, so whatever you like." She had hers's obviously, and was visually excited. She loved shooting in a large number of forms, which was why it wasn't often she would willingly miss one of her own bookings.