Round One

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Valmont slid into a combat stance.

Hak Foo studied his opponent. Valmont's suit would surely hamper him, but overall the British man held himself much more skillfully than Hak Foo thought he would. He'd assumed the man was posturing when he requested a sparring session.

"I won't go easy on you," Hak Foo warned.

"I'd fire you if you did." Valmont smiled and raised a hand to beckon him onward.

A sharp grin crossed Hak Foo's face. It had been a long time since he'd fought someone who wanted to fight him. It was exhilarating in a very different way from real combat - the thrill of fear and aggression was missing. In its place was an almost pure, energizing joy.

He launched himself forward. "Bull charging interloper!"

Valmont danced out of the way, quick and light as only a man with an absolute surety of his body could be. He threw a punch, which Hak Foo let hit to get a measure-

It wasn't a good measure, he decided, since Valmont had obviously thrown the punch only for the sake of seeing how fast he would block. The Black Tiger had no intention of blocking, however; this fight, he would win by being tougher than his opponent.

"Sidewinder sweep!" Hak Foo snapped as he dropped and attempted to sweep Valmont's legs out from under him.

Valmont hopped over the legsweep and snapped out a kick at Hak Foo's face. Hak Foo snatched his shoe, twisted, and flung-

Valmont landed credibly, though he favored the foot Hak Foo had grabbed him by. For an instant, the Black Tiger wondered if he'd broken his boss's ankle, but Valmont had known the stakes when he'd made this offer.

There was a manic brightness in Valmont's eyes that completely silenced any worries Hak Foo might have had about hurting the man.

"I hope," Valmont practically purred with satisfaction, "you're open to the possibility of losing, Hak Foo."

Hak Foo grinned ferally. "I hope you've got a doctor on speed-dial, Valmont."

-End-