How To Train Your Dragon

Taylor felt like she spent half of her life riding a train. Hamamatsu to Tokyo and back, Hamamatsu to Kyoto and back, hours a day almost every day. Sometime it was a total drag when she just wanted to get home and see Johnny or get to a gym and train. Sitting still for any length of time was hard.

But sometimes it wasn't so bad. She was getting used to it, even getting to like it. The crazier the rest of her life got, the more she appreciated the hour or two of quiet between cities. It forced her to slow down and take a breath, and gave her time to read. If she wasn't to techno-stupid, she might've just got lost with a laptop or a phone or something, but it was nice to have an actual paper book in her hands. She was reading more now than any other time in her life.

Today it was a book written by the former manager of the former Flying Pandas, the tag team that had dethroned her mother-in-law's champions the Ice Dragons. It was mostly about the politics of the wrestling scene back then, but Taylor was enthralled by the parts about the girls themselves, and the fights and their struggles.

She lounged back against her seat while she read and crossed her legs, almost completely bare in just a pair of short denim shorts and red Converse high tops. Her blonde hair was up in a perky ponytail, and her red-streaked bangs hung loose, swept to one side and almost over one eye. A sweatshirt was balled up on the seat next to her, and her tight black t-shirt had a large, chalky gray fist on the front over the Rage Against The Machine logo. When she changed positions, she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, and instinctively glanced up at the seats across, facing hers. She had been immersed in her book that she hadn't noticed the guy until just then, who seemed to be paying more attention to her than the average admirer.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You wanna take a picture or something?" She said, eying him cautiously for a second before she tried to find where she'd left off in her book.

Alex hated waiting. Wasting time in any form felt incredibly unproductive to him, even while traveling. Trains were the worst. At least driving was active and responsive. Riding trains felt so uncontrolled. Ironically too, since they were the most reliable ones in the world. He ended up just sleeping to regain some strength. He sat upright in the seat with his hands resting on his thighs. It looked almost as if he was meditating. Like he was fully aware of his surroundings despite closing his eyes. But he wasn't.

When he woke up, he thought he was still dreaming. He blinked several times and looked around. Then back once more to what he thought was the dream. But she wasn't. The dream didn't have blonde hair. Eventually, though, the woman looked back at him bitterly. It was understandable. She probably had to deal with a ton of annoying fans. And that gave him a perfect cover.

"I think I've seen you before," he stated rather plainly. "Are you on TV or something? Like a pop star?" He had a west coast accent, but not much of it showed with how monotone he was speaking.

Taylor only spared a glance up at big, black-haired guy across from her. She turned back a page in her book while she continued to try to find her place.

"No, are you?" She said, in a way that didn't invite an answer.

Fans were one thing. Fans were awesome and sweet and polite and Taylor loved them to death and appreciated so much what they had made possible in her life. This guy wasn't a fan. He was a creep, and while she was not the least big shy about showing off and being flirty and flaunting her body in the arena, she really didn't need some guy hoping that if he started a conversation he'd end up in her pants.

And besides, he sounded boring. She found her spot, and picked up reading about the fights the Flying Pandas had with each other. It reminded her a little of Kamikaze. She and Akashi had been known to brawl on occasion.

The man continued to stare awkwardly. He seemed to get the hint that he didn't need to answer. But he pretended not to get the hint about leaving her alone. "What are you reading?" He asked after a few seconds of awkward silence. "Personally..." He crossed his arms and smiled. "I don't read very often. Not a big fan of books." He continued looking across at Taylor, a certain pleasure hidden behind his already not so innocent smile.

"Oh, it's, uhh..." Taylor readily answered, and turned her book around and looked at the cover, and then back at the man. "A book."

It didn't seem like she was going to get any reading done. Maybe she should try for a nap instead. But then, maybe going to sleep around this potential creep wasn't a great idea.

"Yeah? Looks like it." She marked her page and put the book back in the gym bag she used for traveling, and traded it for a water bottle filled with something slightly cloudy. It was a mixture of water, aloe vera juice, and lemon juice. It didn't taste great, but it made her feel good. She took a drink and hoped that the guy didn't take her putting away her book as an invitation to keep talking at her.

Alex couldn't help but let a grin escape. He could be a real creep if he wanted to be. But it was hard playing the part of something he hated. He closed his eyes and shook his head with a single laugh. "Frustrating, isn't it?" he asked with a low undertone in his voice. "Just trying to do what you do and someone gets all up in your face. Probably because they think they have a right to." He then crossed his arms, laughed once more and looked out the window. "How's the jaw?" he quickly added. He didn't know much about Taylor, and couldn't just leave it up in the air like that.

Taylor mostly ignored him, she put her water bottle down on the seat next to her and pulled out her phone to do whatever, until that last part. That got her attention.

Her face tightened, and she looked him directly in the eye. "What's that supposed to mean?" Was he talking about her match with Ace, where Ace booted her in the face more than once?

Alex kept his gaze out of the window at the country as it based by. "Ah...guess you don't remember that part." He did kick her pretty hard. He then squinted and looked up at the ceiling of the room which had an unlit light which he could make out Taylor's distorted image on. "I have to admit though, you've got heart. Most people wouldn't have fought so hard to escape that hold." He then finally looked back down to her with a small smile. That part should've made it obvious.

What?

There was Ace, then there was Fallon... But Fallon barely put a dent in her, Taylor handled her without too much of a problem. Then there was Uncharted Love, and the bigger one had worked her body over a little, but nothing too bad. She was slightly apprehensive in that match, because she had gone into it with a lingering injury to her hip flexor that she got... from...

Suddenly, Taylor relaxed. She was no longer confused and agitated, now that she knew what she was dealing with. She slouched easily, and put one foot up in front of her on her seat, with her heel against her butt, almost daring him to ogle her sleek, strong thighs. She rested her arm on her knee and fixed her cool, indigo eyes on his, with the slightest hint of a sneer on her lips.

She remembered that attack vividly. The three of them, the ones in the masks, had attacked Fallon. At least the first two of them had, the third one, this guy, had waited until Taylor tried to stop them. He speared her so hard she nearly coughed up her lungs, and his stretch muffler gave her a nagging tear in her hip flexor that took months to heal, not to mention weeks of physical therapy. She remembered him well, and now she had a face to put behind that mask.

"I've got a lot of things. You lookin' to try one?"

Alex's grin grew as Taylor's body language changed dramatically at the realization. There was a certain way she moved about that screamed confidence. She carried herself with such strength. "Only if I'd have to fight for it. The harder you fight for something, the more rewarding it is." He managed not to shift his gaze down her body. He hadn't planned for this meeting, and wasn't entirely sure which direction to go with the conversation. He only knew so much about the wrestler in front of him, even though he wanted to know more.

"What about you?" He lifted up his right leg and rested it on his left knee. "Anything you like fighting for? Other than your opponents."