Author's Notes: Glad that some people out there are enjoying these! Here's my second story with the pair!

Never Underestimate a Woman with a Big Stick

Many men, Kenya knew, would go to extreme lengths to impress a lady.

They'd take on challenges and extremes they normally wouldn't brave, and do stupidly over-the-top antics just to show off. And if she didn't know him better, Australia's latest would have fallen soundly into the "trying too hard" camp.

Luckily for him, Kenya was quite aware that Australia considered such things as going about poking some of the world's most venomous snakes with a stick all part of an average day.

The fact he not-too-suavely invited Kenya along "in case she'd like to see any of the little ankle biters" on the other hand was a bit on the showing-off side. But humoring him because it was for the good cause of catching the snakes and milking them to produce antivenom, Kenya agreed.

Little did she know that Australia wouldn't be the only one showing off that day.

"Blimey, it's a might be steamy today. You all right there?" Australia asked, fanning himself with his slouch hat and giving her a smile.

Kenya nodded, sweeping her dreadlocks up off her neck with her scarf and tying them up in a ponytail. "My summers are pretty hot too, you know," she taunted.

Australia had the courtesy to give her that, although by the way his eyes lingered just a bit longer on where the scarf was brushing against her neck, Kenya had a feeling her summers weren't the only think he was thinking to be pretty hot.

They'd been, literally, poking around hoping to lure out some of the snakes. Of course, the snakes were never too happy to be disturbed and often got a bit tetchy when Australia had to milk their venom.

"Right mellow blighters when you leave 'em be, but fuss with them and boy do they not like you for that! Isn't that right you lovely sheila?" He finished, cooing at the snake he'd just finished with before letting it slither away.

Kenya chuckled, thinking of some of her home's snakes and their similarities. "You should see the black mambas at my place. They go off at quite the clip when they hear someone coming. Not too fun to try and catch one when you need it."

Australia gave her a grin. "Bet its speed doesn't have anything on you."

She flushed. "It is the fastest snake in the world, Australia."

"I've seen you outrun a Cheetah."

She smacked his arm gently. "Now you're just talking shonde. Flatterer."

He cocked a grin as if he was just about to flirt with her some more when suddenly he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her down behind a termite mound. "Shh, something rustling near by," he murmured, his eyes scanning around on alert.

Kenya thought at first he meant the small wallaby that had just jumped out of the rocky outcrop nearby, but as Australia darted forward, she looked up to see the real problem.

Poachers. With their guns aimed right at the wallaby, at that.

She felt a wave of hatred trickle down her spine, thoughts of her homeland's own poaching problems and how much it always hurt her when they attacked her wildlife coming to mind. Kenya knew then that Australia had probably felt a similar hatred as these men approached in their stripped down truck.

That's when another, more horrifying thought, registered to Kenya.

Australia had put himself between the poachers and the wallaby, and as the gunshot rang out, Kenya knew she couldn't reach him in time.

Blood was trickling down his leg, but Australia was too busy shooing the wallaby to safety to worry about his own troubles. So working purely on adrenaline and impulse, Kenya snatched up the two sticks they'd been using for the snakes and boldly stood up.

Slipping into her own language, she stalked towards the poachers.

"Wewe mabaya ya watu, nitafunza wewe ni somo," she said with venom in her voice.

Yes, evil people, I will teach you a lesson, Kenya thought to herself as she gripped the sticks firmly in each hand.

Before they could blink, before they could fire another shot, she struck. She'd been trained by the Maasai people well in the art of fimbo stick fighting and she wasn't going to let these men escape to poach another day.

Her dreadlocks spinning wildly behind her as she whirled around, Kenya caught the first poacher's gun on her stick and tossed it towards Australia. Behind her, the two others started to shoot, but she blocked one bullet with the momentum of her stick and dodged the second before racing (with the speed of a Cheetah, perhaps, she thought with a smirk) towards them and effectively pinning one to the ground.

As the other cocked his gun, Australia called out, "Drop the gun!"

He'd staggered over to the gun and was now aiming it at him.

In the few seconds the poacher pondered whether or not to obey; Kenya's stick effectively smacked him in the back of the head and sent him tumbling forward. She stepped over him and pressed the bottom of the stick against his hand as it groped around for his gun.

"Try it and I'll skewer you."

He wisely surrendered at that.

After locking the three poachers in the cage they had in the back of their truck bed and calling in the authorities to deal with them, Kenya shifted her attention to Australia's injury.

As they sat on the dusty ground, she prodded at the wound and Australia hissed.

"That wallaby owes you its life, you know."

Australia gave her a weak grin. "Least I could do for the little guy."

Kenya yanked the scarf from her hair, the dreadlocks cascading down to her shoulders, and she started to wrap it around Australia's leg.

"And this is the least I can do for you."

Australia put his hand down over hers, and he gave her a genuine smile. "Not going to kiss and make it better, huh?"

She cocked an eyebrow at that, then shifted to sit beside him on the ground. Pulling him over against her side, she put an arm around his back. "Take it easy now; you lost a lot of blood blundering around with that gun."

He leaned into her touch, her hand reaching up to stroke at the nape of his neck in relaxing circles. "And you are bleeding magnificent, you know that?"

She flushed. "What's that supposed to mean? Blood loss go to your head?"

He chuckled, reaching over with his hand to take hers where it rested on her knee. "Fighting off three armed men with two sticks and tending to my wounds? Right ace, you are."

Australia gave her hand a squeeze at that and she smiled. She supposed, in this situation, the flattery was warranted.

"Huweza wewe kuponya vizuri, upendo," she murmured, turning to kiss him.

The tang of dust and sweat met her lips as she captured his, Australia's hand reaching up to tangle into her hair as it swished around her shoulders. Pulling back, he gave her a smile.

"What's that mean, Kenya?"

She smiled softly, placing her hand over the scarf binding his injured leg, and locking eyes with him.

"May you heal well, love."

Australia chuckled. "Looks like I should get shot more often."

And holding back her own laughter, Kenya gave him a playful nudge in the shoulder for that. "Don't you dare."

Notes:
[1] shonde means 'shit' in sheng slang
[2] Kenya slips into her language, Swahili, twice. First saying "You evil people, I will teach you a lesson" and the second is the translation she gives to Australia.
[3] The Maasai (also Masai) are an ethnic group of semi-nomadic people located in Kenya and northern Tanzania