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Christian and Katerina cross paths in the new underground X-Men facility and find themselves training against one another. The female shape-shifter has a distinct advantage over most, considering her history as a high ranking H.Y.D.R.A. agent--Of which Christian has no idea. Curious as to what the werewolf can do, Katerina really has no sense of privacy and pushes Christian to find out.


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Katerina Force - Ephemeral Spirit
Christian Weiss-Alarcon - Rovek-Winter



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More to come...

A hand shakily palmed at the early alarm set by Christian's bed, taking several attempts to shut off the alarm before he succeeded. Though Christian had plugged headphones into the alarm so it would not disturb his likely-still-asleep roommate, Charlie. Weary eyes double checked the time on the LED screen, confirming the early hours of the morning. No, it was not like the werewolf to wake up this early in the morning, since he usually slept in. Today was an exception, however. He had been feeling restless lately, likely due to not being used to being cooped in what felt like a claustrophobic cage of an underground base. He had tried shrugging it off before, but as his tension built, he found himself yearning to dash like mad through the base's hallways and perhaps break out into the surface and race through the snow. Something to get the wind in his face and feel adrenaline pumping through him. However, the danger of possibly bumping into someone in the hallways during the day was made aware to him, which would be an issue in his transformed state.

He grumbled as he crawled out of bed, making sure not to wake his likely-still sleeping roommate and friend, Charlie. It wouldn't take long for him to groggily grab his clothes and prepare for his new morning workout. He had been informed that the gym contained a nice mix of workout equipment, and it should be easy to build up a sweat there.

By the time he reached the gym, the chilly air had already woken him up quite fair bit, the black tank top he wore not doing much to provide warmth. His uniform pants were all he wore below the waist, since he figured that he would eventually transform sometime into this impromptu training session. Again, warmth was lacking in this attire, but he figured that he'd build up the necessary heat in due time. The priority here was to figure out what he would begin his training on first. A punching bag caught his eye, and he shrugged to himself. Punching something is good for the soul.

He set his bag down near the bag, then limbered up his arms and back, before getting into an amateur fighting stance. Really, he just tried to emulate a boxier's stance from the small boxing matches he was able to catch on television. It felt right, even if it was probably wrong, and he began throwing punches at the bag, the recoil of the bag's weight encouraging him to continue. The faint smell of something familiar entered his nostrils, but without his transformed state's far more superior senses, he had very little to work on, and chalked it up to his mind entering a combat-like state.

His punches, however untrained and sloppy, still had the power his mutancy granted him. A fraction of his transformed strength, yes, but enough to stagger even the hardiest of men. The sensation of a hand pressing against his back froze him, his posture instantly rigid. The unmistakable Italian accent the followed the touch relaxed his posture slightly. Seems like he wasn't imaging the earlier smell then: the mysterious Katerina slid into his view, her hand trailing along his torso. The criticism she gave him was not minced, biting the right areas that would give him notice. Despite her firm push away from the punching bag, it felt as if her voice was what moved him, not her touch. Her warning could have been interpreted as a mentor chiding an inexperienced student. His gaze met hers, his balled fists falling slightly. "Nice to see you again, Italy." he said to her, her continued criticism earning a slight frown from Christian.

His gaze narrowed a bit as her fingers danced up his arm, giving him a look he could describe as bedroom eyes, her accent words calling him that familiar nickname for him she had for him. Likely wolf, since it sounded like wolf. She continued this game of tag that she had sprung onto them, the two of them 'tagging' each other whenever they ran into each other around the base. Looks like it was his turn to tag her then.

Before he could fire a playful retort, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. He allowed himself to be pulled, partly because he wasn't expecting it, and partly because he was curious as to what her intention was. She paused in front of a padded mannequin, earning a curious gaze from the werewolf. She paid him a slight compliment, remarking that a punching bag was not for him, since he was already strong. She stated that what he needed was practice against a partner, one that moved and actually tried to avoid his blows. That's what this padded dummy was apparently for. Christian resisted the urge to state that he just wanted to punch something, not actually train, but from critical way the mysterious shifter explained it all, he found an aura experience oozing off her.

She finally let go of his arm, set the dummy-thing into a mode, and stood behind it, giving him a wink before she set off him. Again, Christian raised his fists into position, slightly unready for the sudden movement from the dummy. Christian, impatient as he was, immediately went for a lazy right hook, to which the dummy made a small movement to avoid it, before springing forward and knocking him back with a thrust. If he hadn't propped a foot behind him, Christian would have likely been put on his a**. Kat had been right: it did hurt. And he didn't like that.

Pride slightly wounded, he came in with a much faster right punch, using a little too much force. The dummy shook, before steadying itself and waited for Christian's next move. Again, Christian's impatience got the better of him, and he came in with a slower left hook. And again, the dummy dodged with a small movement, and thrust forward again. Christian anticipated it, however, shifting his body to the side slightly as the dummy's punch grazed his shoulder and Christian came in with a strong uppercut.The dummy shook again from the impact, before steadying itself again. Christian's posture relaxed slightly, and he cast Kat a look.

"You do this to all the wolves on base? Feel up on them and make them punch a dummy? Or am I special cause I'm your playmate?" he said, a small grin sliding across his features. She could get under his skin with some words and a tap. He could at least fire back with something.

Christian watched intently as Katerina teased his nature, her eyes seeming to glow under the lights of the gym. She likened him to a lamb, earning a raised eyebrow. What an interesting comparison. "What, like a wolf in sheep's clothing? Sorry, all man and beast here." he said simply, not sure what he was going with that. It was better than not giving her a response and letting her win this 'round'. She didn't settle of the issue long, leading him to a training dummy. She needn't use much force: curiosity was just one of the things that made him follow.

He'd never learned any formal fighting styles, finding his strength to be sufficient enough to end any brawls he might be involved in. And even if his raw strength was not enough...it was a simple matter of transforming and changing the game. He had no qualms getting what he wanted in his transformed state, but it led to his human form being neglected, save for weight training and his more human interactions. Katerina stating his obvious strengths did little to flatter him, but the advice she gave him did earn a few questions. Did she pity him, a long wolf throwing his weight around? And what did that make her? What made her seek him out, and play this game of tug of war, his words seeking to refine him?

Still, fat load of help her words did for him initially: his lack of discipline earned him a shove from the dummy, and he knew he had already stumbled in her eyes. Oh, he wouldn't let her walk away from this thinking this was too much for him. He quickly corrected himself, taking into consideration her advice of reacting and learning. It worked, his successful punches (slightly fueled by a hurt pride that a dummy was able to get the jump on him) shaking it and letting both he and she that he learned something from this little test.

Katerina switched off the dummy when it began cooling down, probably content with his display (or having watched enough of his efforts). He threw words meant to prod her, wanting to put up some resistance to her way of getting under his skin. He had no problem admitting that she did so quite easily to him. The sternness in her eyes pulled back slightly, but it did not stop her from correcting his form, taking his arms and placing them in presumably better positions. She stayed on his words, admitting that he was the only wolf on base. That earned a grin, but his expression flinched as she openly admitted to actually feeling up on him, and what it'd lead to if she'd done so before promptly returning back to his posture. She continued this combat lesson, but mind was still stuck on the topic she just finished. His body followed her instructions, but his mind was still stuck 2 moves behind, trying to figure out if what just happened actually happened.

She turned her back to him, still adjusting his posture by aligning his feet properly with hers. Again, he body followed along as his mind struggled to keep up. She began speaking again, and he decided to abandon trying to decipher her statement. He was most likely overthinking it. He listened closely to her words, taking in her advice for whatever reason she had in teaching him. Vital points, letting his opponent do most of the work, reacting, putting more weight into his punches beyond his arms, etc.

She grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips, the action making him flinch, before she demonstrated what she meant. Yes, he could feel what she meant, among...other things. He nodded once when she asked for confirmation, his expression trying to figure her out. How easily she slipped from an educated mentor to teasing banter, mixed in with a hands-on approach. She turned in his grasp to face him, Christian too fully aware that his hands ran over her abdomen and back as she did so. She did not blink or flinch, again returning to a more flustering topic as she picked at his words again. His eyes widened slightly, something clicking in him. She was playing a game with him, just as she played their version of 'tag'. She knowingly did this. Getting under her skin wasn't something she just did...she purposely did it as part of this new game she made. He blinked once, this revelation unfolding before him, before his gaze refocused back onto her eyes. Game on.

He pulled her slightly towards him, his expression trying to remain neutral. "You figure out what I am, leaving me to figure out what you are. You pull me into this game of tag, and I play along. No, I guess we're not playmates. I'm pretty sure we're gonna be seeing plenty of each other." His words were punctuated with a smirk and his grip on her hips tightening slightly, his eyes becoming wolfish for a split second. Check.

She slipped out of his grasp easily, Christian allowed his hands to fall back to his sides. He couldn't read her then, and it'd be a waste to try to. She was good at it, and until he learned more about her, he'd have better luck staring at a wall and hoping it spilled secrets. The topic of battle returned, and Christian resumed his role of a sudden student. It didn't take long for Kat to get the real meat of the lesson: she requested that he attack her.

He blinked once, twice. She knew what she asked, surely. After the game and lessons she put him through, she couldn't expect him to pull punches now. But that also meant that she wouldn't make this easy for him. He looked at her for a few seconds, considering her request. Then, he gave a curt "Okay".

His move again.

He readied his stance, feet positioned just as she showed him, arms just as she had positioned them, and he even clenched his fists to crack his fingers with a satisfying pop. He nodded again, affirming to her that he was ready. Then, he stepped forward with his right foot, his right arm swinging towards her head, fist braced for impact.

Katerina was doing a fine job of keeping Christian on his toes: between throwing him for a multiple loops with her quick comments about "not so ambiguous subjects" and continuing on like nothing happened, she seemed quite intent on it. The werewolf couldn't remember the last time a person had this sort of effect on him so easily, though, it was probably the boldness of her barbs that affected him. Maybe he was just used to a bit of reserved nature from women (or most people, for that matter). Either way, he ended being much more affected then he thought, fumbling through her motions and teachings with delayed grace.

By the time she asked whether he was keeping up, to which he could only muster a nod, trying to give himself some time to keep up. Kat caught his his slip up, and teasingly assured him that he was fine to ask questions if he needed to. "No, I think I've got a good hold on things so far." His words were a play on the situation at hand, but his face made no effort to show that this was his intention.

She turned to face him in his hands, Christian noting that she, like he, was no stranger to close contact. But what put him on edge was the fact that neither of them seemed to be backing down. His dismissal of things people usually were quite stern about (close contact, clothing, personal space, etc.) had people going around his ways, attempting to get used to him. But here came this woman who did not balk at his ways, and even accepted it herself far before he did, for it was he who was kept on guard. When he finally began to make sense of this game she played with him, and decided to become a player, rather than game's ball, her expression changed into something more alluring, the seeing that he had finally caught up. If it wasn't his grip that caused an action, it was his words, punctuated by his true self shining briefly behind his eyes before receding back. She brought her body forward, letting her his form just as much as he could feel hers. The animal in him, the animal that was him, did not push away her embrace, but instead leaned into her subconsciously. She told him, her voice running over his collarbone, that she was looking forward to seeing more of each other, and continuing this task of his to figure out just what she was. Christian's silence was not due to being taken back, but was simply not needed. He didn't need words right now, even as Katerina bade him to not disappoint her. Not planning to.

She pulled away from him all too soon, the feeling of her nails raking against the back of his neck lingering just enough to feel like it was still there. Her expression was hard to gauge, and the werewolf knew that this would become a pesky habit of hers. That expression was everything but expressive, not telling him anything that could be hiding behind those eyes. He could usually figure something out in others that way. She...just made it harder.

And again, Kat continued her lecture about combat, the sudden subject shift once again contrasting sharply with the skinship shared just prior, though Christian was quick to catch on and try to keep up. It wouldn't do much for her next curveball however, when she told him to attack her.

Of course he was hesitant, for she herself stated that he had quite a lot of power behind his swings. One blow in the wrong area, one unprotected strike, and she could find herself out for god knows how long. Yet, there was no hesitation in her tone, her form expectantly standing there, waiting for his move. The ball was in his court, and he had to respond. His one word acceptance surprised even him when he finally respond, but he would not back out.

He swung, and was hardly surprised that she was able to dodge his blow quite easily. Of course she could do that. There was no way she could teach him without having some experience herself. How silly of him to have doubts before. Her goading him didn't provoke a response, despite that clearly being her intention. He knew what she wanted at this point, and although there was no hesitation in doing so, he knew he couldn't just throw punches and expect to get a lucky hit. She was fast, trained in some art he had no knowledge of, and he had minute-old technique and immense strength.

Again, she taunted him, and this time, Christian took action, loosening his form. He could no longer afford to be stiff and defensive. To match her pace, he had to be more fluid, quick. He had enough strength in his swings already: he could sacrifice some power for some more speed and fluidity and this strikes would still have a considerable power behind them. He kept his steps light, to allow him to move in any direction swiftly if he needed to. He didn't need the momentum to propel his punches, he just needed a good rhythm. But he knew strikes weren't gonna cut it: if she had better speed, then strikes would just make her play the cat and mouse game. But, he had reach, and he could put his reach to other uses..."You're asking for it. Careful."

He came in again with a right swing again, and followed it up with a kick, untrained but meant more to move her away: he didn't expect to hit her with it. He moved forward again, his left hand coming in a hook that seemed to slow, almost purposely. He thought himself clever for having his right arm come under at the same time in a lower profile, meant to grab. His intention wasn't to strike, but to seize: his left arm would come behind her, looking like he missed, but would allow his right arm to come out and wrap around her waist, his left arm hooking around her shoulder to grab her. Speed meant nothing if she was in his clutches, after all. Even if she was fast enough to back out of his grip, he would at least be able to make her lose her balance. It would allow him to lunge forward and catch her by surprise, should she let herself be caught off guard by his assault.

Christian Weiss-Alarcón

Their little embrace had put Christian in a different sort of mood, one that didn't factor in gyms or proper exercise. He didn't know how Katerina had done it: going from playful to serious was not something that he could easily by himself. True, this had started as training exercise for him, and there definitely had been some...fun involved, but they had to get some work done. At least, that's what he assumed. Katerina had confronted him because she truly wanted to help, right? None of these odd games she liked to play with him that involved messing with his head? She was quite good at that, and it seemed that for every bit of useful fighting advice she dropped on him, she also found another way to inch deeper under his skin. So when she pulled back, eyes full of the cold stare akin more to a predator than the wistful tint they held before, it took some extra brain power to try and follow the mood. Sure, he could probably try and get under her skin, but he'd seen her in action before: he wasn't going to test how much patience she had, at least not yet.

She seemed much more fond of testing him anyhow, as she instructed him to strike her, something he pondered about for the slightest of moments before agreeing. There was no sense in trying to see if it was a good idea if she seemed quite capable of defending herself already, given her wealth of fighting advice that she tried to impart on him. To second guess her abilities would be an insult, and would probably subtract some of those good points he'd earned her eye. Getting in good with the shapeshifter could hold it's own benefits.

His initial attempts to try and land a blow were met with no success, Katerina dodging them as easily as a feather in the wind. His firm, stiff stance and punches didn't do well against fluid motion like hers, so tried to mimic her: just as she advised, he kept himself light on his feet. He'd been slipping out of the stance she had previously put him in, and with her continued warning, put himself back. He was all for improving himself, but he could only take so much taunting before it started to affect him: he cast his own warning to her, trying to let her know that if he did land a punch, it wasn't going to be pretty. And yet still she continued to dance around him, tossing back his warning. She was still in control of the situation, like she always was. Even her movements looked delayed, as if she was falling into the rhythm of his movements. If he was predictable, if he had a rhythm she could follow easily enough to avoid hits, then he'd might as well practice shadowboxing for all the good it was doing him. So, if he was going to take the advantage and put her a compromising spot, he'd have to be unpredictable. Do something that she wouldn't see coming, or at least not be able to adequately defend herself.

So, his strikes became less powerful and were more focused on keeping her moving, steadily increasing the frequency of his punches as she still evaded him. When he saw her put herself into grabbing distance, it was a matter of just throwing his arms around her, to take her down. A strike it wasn't, but nimble acrobatics meant nothing if you were pinned. That was his winning strategy, but of course, Katerina had the edge over him. He'd thought himself clever for capturing, but before he could bring her to the floor, he'd heard the snapping inside her. s**t, did I do that? he thought, nearly releasing her from his grip from the shock of apparently breaking the petite shifter, but realized a little late that she seemed to grow smaller, slipping out his grip. She turned to him, the blue eyes he was used to now a predatory gold, and the all-too-audible growl that came from her putting him on edge. It had earned a tinge of activity within him, as if to respond to the reaction, but her spinning and striking the back of his knee had stopped any sort of change within him as he grunted and took an involuntary kneel.

Rather than let the knee strike be the only indicator that his maneuver didn't work, Katerina continued her assault and coiled her leg around his unstruck one, and then he felt the most uncomfortable pain in his sides as he felt three fingers digging through his ribs, the werewolf letting out a half pained, half shocked "O-oh!" as his body instinctively bent to the prodded side, trying to deal with the pressure.

She didn't relent, putting him into an even more uncomfortable position by trapping his arm and forcing his neck down by placing her free leg behind it, and he was made a prisoner by her technique. He could feel his face burning, his breathing hitched as he tried to gain some type of leverage, but the incredible pain in his back, on top of his arm, neck, and legs made him feel much more weaker. He barely had the consciousness to hear her reprimanding him. He couldn't even try to find the humor in him to pick at her words, feeling himself starting to lean forward and come seconds from collapsing on the spot.

Thankfully, she showed him mercy and got him off him slowly, Christian finding relief from the release of pain and fell forward, taking heavy breaths as he struggled to regulate his body functions. His everything hurt, and he didn't dare move his head or body to face her, taking his time to recover. In one move, she had shown him just how much pain she was able to inflict on him, as a counter to one of his moves. She proved why she had the authority to lecture him on his nonexistent technique, why she was the one in control in their little meetings. He let out a strained breath as she continued talking, letting him know just how wrong he was to come in for a grapple of his own. Yes, he did go against her order by grappling her instead of going fora strike, but it was one of the few ways he could get a contact in. Actually, he was sure her size shifted when he had her. What was that about?

He didn't grace her with an answer to justify his actions, still choosing to maintain a somewhat healthy breathing rate. He tried to push himself up to a sitting stance, but the effort his back would need to put in to do that set too much pain spiraling throughout his body again, and he instead lay on the mat in pain. He flinched when he felt her hands on his back, afraid she might try something else, but felt her hands slowly push outwards, kneading the pain into more manageable rolls. Her slight pressure was doing wonders for his back, but at the possibility of being put into another submission hold, he offered no resistance to her touch.

She let him know that they'd start up again when he was ready, something he almost scoffed at. "I like you better when you're rubbing me and not riding me." he said dryly, somewhat muffled by his face still buried in the mat. He slowly moved his arm up to the back of his neck and tried to dispel the tension there, still using as little movement as he could. He eventually craned his neck around, but was unable to look up at her from his position. He figured he might as well let her continue her ministrations (not like he wanted to do anything else right now. And, somewhat upset at her with the amount of pain she had just inflicted on him, her little massage did make him feel just a bit more pleasant.

But he knew she wouldn't be doing this long. She did just say that they'd continue his little training once he was able to. "Give me a minute. I just wanna...keep this going." he said, hoping that she didn't take that as a cue to just leave him laying there until he stood up.

"That felt like a lot less like a self-defense move and more of a full-on takedown. A girl that can kick my a** in several different ways...in several different bodies. What a catch." he mused, sliding his arms back to his sides. If he could keep this massage treatment going for a bit longer...it might make going through another grapple all the more bearable if he knew this was what was waiting for him afterwards. His face still showed a lot of pain instead of the brief amusement his mind conjured. He was still trying to get his mind around the amount of personality changes this woman went through. Strict one second, playing and teasing the next, an absolute terror the other, and a gentle healer now. It nearly gave him whiplash.

Christian Weiss-Alarcón

This sparring Katerina had him do (or to be accurate, him flailing around and her avoiding every single swing) was a clear point to their difference in skill. Christian's basis on being a better fighter was based on brute force, something he could bring in troves due to his mutation. He never needed anything more that to overcome his obstacles, human or otherwise, as he grew up. Thus, he never bothered to learn any real combat discipline, save for a few clumsy pantomimes of Bruce Lee epics and Tony Jaa feats after a quick kung fu marathon. He'd like to say it was humbling to see someone dodge his attacks so deftly, and her goading was adding to the impressiveness of it all...but Christian just wanted one damn hit.

So when he went off script and went for the takedown, he was vastly unprepared by her reaction. She moved faster than he could keep up, and he was down before he could express confusion. It was humiliating, someone his size (not that he was the most burliest person around, mind you) being taken down by a woman that looked more VIctoria's Secret Angel than GI Jane. Even as the physical pain was slightly lessened as she let him go and he collapsed, there was little else he could do other than try to catch his breath and cause any more unneeded pain for himself in places he wasn't used to be hurt before. He felt like he'd been played, in both the literal and figurative sense of the phrase, as if this had been some sort of set up to some grand Mother Goose lesson about respect or something.

Of course it is. he replied mentally when she told him what the grapple was called, figuring something that painful had to be called something cool or cliché. Was she explaining the submission hold to him in preparation for him to eventually learn it somewhere down the line? That's how these training montages went in movies: the student gets taken down by the master effortlessly by some advanced technique, then the student does the same technique to some assailant later on in the plot to wow the crowd with how much stronger they've become with training. Only problem was...Christian would have to find some pretty huge goon to try it on, or find the foresight to try it out on some hulking menace while transformed.

What snapped his attention back to Katerina, as she tried to massage away the ebbing pain in his back, was that she was only ten when her instructor did it on her. He would had whipped his head back to look at her, but the still present pain made him settle for blinking. Which she wouldn't notice. "So the girl scouts didn't teach you that. Was the hellish boot camp instructor some kung fu Ivan Drago?" he asked, sounding less concerned and more peeved. Really, she was sounding more like some killing machine than a mysterious athlete.

Or, the girl scouts trained their troops to make sure their customers bought the cookies one way or another.

He tried to switch the tone of the topic to something much more flitatious, a reaccuring theme between them, and she responded as she always did: innuendo up the walls, and subtlety written in neon colors. Then, just as always, she infuriatingly switched the topic to something else of almost an entirely different mood. She talked about brutal training, far beyond some workout routine or even a harsh Russian gymnast regime. There was no mistaking it now: whatever girl scouts she was a part of before had wanted her to be something other than just some little girl. He idly wondered if the Italians were creating some sort of super soldier program, somewhere underneath the Leaning Tower of Pisa. He knew he couldn't vocalize such lighthearted commentary, due to this seemingly real confession of a harsh childhood. Really, just what was she a part of?

"My aim was o-oooauh." he tried to say, but was caught off guard by her nails raking down his back. He hadn't expected that: another recurring theme with Katerina.

Her ministrations stopped after a while and, still feeling her presence next to him, knew that relaxing time was over. This was further punctuated by her asking if he was ready. "Please don't tell me we're moving to weapons." he said, rolling over onto his back propping himself up on his elbows. There was still a little soreness and some slight pangs of pain as he held himself up by his elbows, but it was a lot better than it was before

That being said, he knew that she was serious about...whatever it was they were doing. She expected him to be giving it his all from now on, unless he wanted to go through some other grapples she knew, each with some exotic or needlessly ominous sounding title. But would it be better to try something he was actually good at? On the other hand, he had no idea what was going on here right now anyways: he was originally here to do some morning training after some inspiration from Charlie last night. He didn't anticipate Katerina finding him here and putting through whatever hellish training she could conceive. Or further toss him around.

Christian Weiss-Alarcón

Going against the script had always been Christian’s strongest suits, and while Katerina was certainly very skilled in combat, the werewolf loved to shift the balance of power. However, Katerina was much better than he anticipated, and his grab turned into a very painful submission hold. Pain screamed in his joints as his face strained with muted agony, groaning to try and keep himself composed before she eventually let him collapse onto the floor.

This training wasn’t indicative of any summer program parents send their children, unless the parents were especially paranoid of their daughter in danger. “Regardless of who your trainer really was, I’m not accepting any cookies by you.” he said, refusing to actually life his face off the mat and causing his words to sound slightly muffled. While the odd name of “Leviathan” was curious enough to draw his attention, he only briefly wondered what sort of program called themselves something so showy before returning to the present.

Even when trying to justify his attempted unpredictability, Katerina was having none of it by saying that it was still didn’t work. She pointed out that his lack of patience was his undoing, and even suggested meditation to try and get his wolf under control when he did transform. He scoffed in reply, barely inches from chuckling. “Meditate? Yeah, I’ll just take a nap. I don’t really need help getting my wolfy side in control anyways.”

When his masseuse time was apparently spent, he finally rolled over and moved his shoulders a bit, the large amount of pain that had been in his body minutes earlier much less than it once was. He was wary about future demonstrations if they meant more physical harm like that, and he expressed his concerns with the prospect of weapons. It didn’t help that, how she postured herself right now, she looked like the farthest thing from harmful.

He did not miss the irony that the werewolf was wary of the of the very normal looking woman sitting by him.

She attempted to assuage his fears that she had no intention of hurting him, but she may as well of brandished a knife around with how she worded it, even as she fiddled with his collar. “Jesus, you sure have a way with words.” he said, tone as dry as Death Valley, even as her hand glided from his collar to neck and jawline. Even as she surveyed him, it was all juxtaposed by the secret agent submission hold she had him in a few minutes ago. She may leave his face alone, but that didn’t mean some other part of him wouldn’t be next on the chopping block.

It worried him how much he actually didn’t mind that, if it meant this continued rendezvous. It’s why he followed after her when she asked him to continue their exercises, citing that he needed work.

-----Some weeks later-------

Christian idly wondered if he had masochistic tendencies as his training sessions with Katerina became more routine. They stopped being idle training sessions and become more structured with actual equipment and lessons. It wasn’t as if the gym wasn’t the only place they met: Katerina was surprisingly good at running into him around base when they weren’t training, prolonging the mysterious game of ‘tag’ she invited him to all those weeks ago. But it wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy it all: he couldn’t remember how many other shifters were on base, and Katerina keep him on his toes (in both senses). But, was she really training him out of his good samaritan act, or was there a deeper reasoning, perhaps an incredibly complex ruse by the base’s leaders to get Christian into better fighting shape.

Whatever the case, why did Christian continue to look forward to such hellish training?

His instructor probably had something to do with it. Christian had met other shifters in his mutant life, but Katerina was the first one to approach the mutation with a more...primal perspective. She called to some hidden part of him, and stirred his curiosity while at the same time showing him just how vulnerable he was despite his obvious power. The fact that she carried herself like a walking mystery certainly helped, dropping hints of some hellish childhood (or perhaps just another ruse), and the fact that Katerina tended to shroud everything in some veil of puzzles and secrecy drew his interest. Were he a smarter man, he’d try to solve these puzzles, but he was a simple man(wolf). He was content with having a beauty order him around. The only thing that made him worry was the pain that went along with it, and how much he enjoyed it.

Or at least, that’s what she led on. She must have been stronger than he realized, because even when she blocked his hits, she still maintained posture and didn’t seem too shaken by the impact. Christian’s mutations may not be freakish human strength that others with actual immense physical strength had, but his muscles hid more power than they let on, which was even more amplified when he did transform. Katerina was able to offer pieces of advice even through his swings, prompting an unconscious gritting on his teeth: he wasn’t used to be outfinnessed in combat, as there wasn’t much else that couldn’t be overcome in a fight with his abilities. Still, he kept in mind how many right punches he threw versus his left, and how somehow could take advantage of that.

And Katerina did. As if to demonstrate the knowledge she just shared, she stepped into his range and overtook the dominant position, sweeping his stance from under him and pushing him hard from the same open side she pointed out. Oh boy, here we go again he thought internally, already attempting to mitigate any other losses as he came crashing down onto the mat. However, ever getting the most optimal results, Katerina pressed her advantage and pounced on him, and Christian could hear the familiar sound of something shifting in her, the same sound he heard when they first began these training sessions. He could feel his pulse quickening as the familiar face of his instructor suddenly took on a more feline, feral look. He tried to bring his forearms up to try and block her approach down to him, but her advantage granted her quick access to his neck, feeling more feral teeth pressed against his skin. His body reacted before he knew what to make sense of it, the sound of something in him struggling to come out. He panicked before she halted, the sound of her purring not doing enough to dissuade the stress he just went through.

His position froze as he remained staring up at her with widened eyes, her face receding back into familiar human (or, the form she regularly took, if her shifting led him to believe). As she removed the protective gear on her and began to lecture him on Combat Tips 101, he let his head rest of the mat he lay on, letting out a breath he held in. She was right: if this was a real fight, he’d be dead. There wasn’t enough time to shift into his werewolf form to defend himself if she diligently just killed him before he could shift. Sure, his body could shift into his transformed state as a defense, sometimes a little more quickly, but not quick enough in this instance. He brought his hands over his face, almost wiping away the stress that had built up in him. He was unaware that he had undergone a partial shift himself, his eyes taking on the more lighter color of his werewolf form.

“That’s...yeah.” he said, unsure of what else he could say. Yes, she was drilling him to be a better fighter, but to actually be shown how vulnerable he was in a simulated life or death situation was a jarring experience. She had proven that she had the means to kill him, either unaware or prepared. Though, obviously, she had an advantage in his human form. He never transformed against her, nor did he think she actually saw his form. Still, it was sobering to know that, in this instance, or most really, she did have sway over whether he lived or died, ally or not.

His human form was definitely at a disadvantage against Katerina, and if she was as trained as she let on to be, there was no way that he’d reach her level of experience within a month of sparring sessions. Yet, here she was, tantalizing him and training him all the same, leading him on in more ways than one and leave a few cogs and screws behind him as he tried to make sense of it all. It was still fun most of the time, but he never felt like he had too much sway over these meetings.

Wasn’t variety the spice of life?

“Well, I’ve never ended up on my back this much before, I’ll tell you that. But what pisses me off is that I don’t find this nearly as hot as I did weeks ago.” he said, glaring up at her as he propped his head onto his palm and drummed the side of his head with his fingers. “You must get tired of looking down at me from that angle, right? Wouldn’t you want to see me from some other position? I have multiple good sides, as I’m told. You just happen to punch them a lot.”

“A...nice, girl like you has to have other hobbies besides wrestling with a werewolf.” he said, his free hand going up and poking her thigh with his index finger. “Or are those on halt while you’re playing with me?”