OK, Kdot, how's this?
That rattled Barbara. “You’re good. You could have gotten a lot of that from my dossier, from some sneaky actions on your part. You almost make me believe it. But let’s just see how good you really are.” Turning, her back to the sink, Barbara lunged at Rhiannon.
Rhiannon stepped aside at the point of no return, clocked Barbara on the back of the neck as she skidded by toward the bungalow’s side window.
Barbara fell down, lept up; her robe flew open, displaying a growing pinkish-red color on her knees. She circled Rhiannon, did a leg sweep and push with a knock to the fairy’s neurovasculars. There was a satisfying crack from the neck. The intruder gasped and fell.
The two women wrestled, rolling toward the sofa and back toward the window, threatening the table and Barbara’s OLED television.
Barbara’s focus went from Rhiannon to the device that had cost her two months salary.
Taking advantage of her opponent’s shift in awareness, Rhiannon brought her elbows in toward her torso, and, using her forearms and knees as frames, exploded. Rotating her hips and shoulders, she rolled Barbara off her, jumped to her feet. The vibrations knocked the television over. It made an ominous fizzing noise.
Barbara craned her neck at her television, silently wept for her lost electronic friend, not yet paid for, still noticed that Rhiannon was about to knuckle the soft part of her legs and come down with a ridge hand to her genitals. She jumped to avenge her lost television and subdue the enemy alien.
As Barbara landed on her feet, Rhiannon kicked the marine, who doubled over with a scream, spittle dropping on the Safavieh solid plush shag rug that separated the entertainment table and the sofa. Between the drool, the blood, and the tears from unfriendly feet, the rug too would need a visit to the furniture infirmary.
Cursing, whether to reduce her pain or because of the shambles that was replacing her lounge one couldn’t say, Barbara circled around to Rhiannon’s back. Got her in a hammerlock. Pinched the nerve on the fairy’s wrist.
Wincing in pain, Rhiannon grabbed Barbara’s hand, did an ‘L’ maneuver with her feet, then pressed down on a nerve point on Barbara’s arm and kicked her. Now, it was Barbara’s turn to scream.
Barbara, putting her mass into it, kicked back, forcing Rhiannon with an ‘oof’ to let go of her grip and step back, to prepare for a panther strike. Before Rhiannon could complete the strike, Barbara somersaulted to her visitor, knocking her back down.
Rhiannon thrashed, the cottage cheese ceiling mocking her as Barbara finally put handcuffs on her. Rhiannon screamed, resisted by kicking. Barbara made an iron stomach, as the feet threatened to knock the front of her stomach against the back, Tensing, the marine leg cuffed the fairy.
Rhiannon whistled for her death sword. She realized that was absurd; it hadn’t been forged yet.
She heard Barbara gasp, as a whirring sound got louder and louder, and the Goblin Ice blade appeared out of nowhere and sliced through Rhiannon’s shackles. It floated a fraction of an inch from her side, as she sprung up.