She'll come back if he beats her.

Only if he beats her.

He knows this. It's been the same for years. He listens to her challenge and feels his blood in his veins. His clenched fists feel natural. His smirk falls into place. As the adrenaline spikes, he wonders if this is the last time this will ever happen. Likely not. This is more than a fight to him. The second he losses this fight, he losses this opponent and that is not a loss he is willing to take. He doesn't even talk back, simply shrugs, and the fight is on.

As Jann blocks Lei's kick, one that has gotten much more powerful over the years, he feels the pain erupt in his forearm. He lets the pain clear his head and fuel his motions. He grabs her leg and turns it to kick her. As she stumbles, he finds himself on guard. He should want to catch her and whisk her away; he should want to protect her. Instead, he smirks at the gasp she lets out as the concrete hits her knees. He flicks his nose and taunts her. She gets up with determination and he is her sole focus. Jann likes being Lei's sole focus, he has been for years, and he will be for years to come, if he keeps up.

When he first saved her, she wasn't someone he thought would make an impression; just another person in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong training. She hadn't thanked him, hadn't kissed him or offered him money; she scorned him. When all of the world would expect a thank you, she gave him a challenge. She wanted to prove she didn't need him. At first it was annoying, but then…

Jann hits the ground hard after a nasty punch.

But then she got good.

And oh is she good.

And this is so much better than a thank you.

He cracks his shoulders as he gets up because he can't admit that hurts or that she caught him off guard because he needs to be her goal. If she can beat him she'll just go ahead and find the next person to pester and defeat. That what he reminds himself of every day he doesn't want to train, every time he is in pain, and every time he feels like he's good enough. She's right there on his heels so he can't stop for a moment.

He wonders if this is love.

Not that he wants to kiss her, or marry her, or have a family with her. He'd be bored with that. He's got a life to live that is all about him, and that other world seems lifetimes away. She'd be boring if she wanted that. Instead, she is fire and light and passion. She keeps him going and gives him an ever changing goal. There is no number for him to hit; he has to be better than her unknown strength, which could be anything. The anticipations for their fights leave him breathless. Did he do enough? Will this be the last time? What new moves has she learned?

He knows he's not like many others, enjoying a great fight better than a night with a lover, but when he catches Lei's leg in the air and grabs her thighs to throw her, sex seems like the lesser of the two. He could pull her close and try to kiss her, but his heart beats faster when she's spinning and he can't tell if a low or mid kick is coming. Why have her moan his name when she could taunt him instead. Sex is boring. He could have it with anyone.

Who else could he fight with like this?

She keeps him on edge all the time because he has to be better to keep her. He has to keep growing to keep her interested. Each bruise means he needs to do better, each blocked move means he needs to be better, and he practices counters for her style as he learns more of his. He traces her every movement because any of them could be the one who defeats him. He doesn't lose often, and he never likes to imagine it, but in his darker moments, he imagines his eventual defeat at her hand.

The last image he will likely have of her is him at her feet and her standing. She'll be going on about how she's finally done it. She'll tell him she's done with him. It will break him in a way he's never been broken before.

That day is not today, he realizes as she stays down. She wipes blood from her mouth and he wants to feel bad, but he doesn't. He lives to fight another day. They will fight another day. He crosses his arms and smirks. He's done it.

He should say good job. He should congratulate her on her improving strength. He doesn't. Congratulations won't make her come back to him. The feelings of defeat and anger will. Him being an ass will. So he taunts her. He reminds her why she lost this fight and insists she will lose all of the ones that are yet to come. She won't. One day she'll beat him but she can't know that. He tells her she's not strong enough, that she is not ready. He pulls on his suit and turns to leave, because he has to be aloof. It is what draws her back to him.

Jann thinks of his most memorable moments with her as he walks away, and he knows he sees more than a sparring partner in her. What could he say? What could he do? He's never had real meaningful relationships with anyone other than Bruce Lee on the other side of the screen. He won't have one with her if it's not on the battlefield. He rubs the back of his head and winces at the pull it causes. He lets out a small chuckle and breathes out, enjoying the effects of a well-earned victory. He can't wait to get in the shower and look at the handiwork Lei has left on his body.

When he's honest with himself he imagines the bruises are Lei's version of a love note. When he's most honest with himself he imagines the love letter he leaves on her skin and admits he wants to trace them over one day; make new marks without violence, say tender words, and do a difference dance.

One day, but not today.