Threatmantic!

Watching The Fairly Odd-parents today with the children and a line caught my attention. "It's threatening and romantic! It's threatmantic!" It made me laugh -- and think of another line that amused me a few years ago.

Wanda had some time on her own without godchild or husband and decided to write the romance to rock the ages. A typewriter appears and she started with "It was dawn. I was in my towel when the ninjas attacked."

She got distracted, but I loved the beginning. It needed to go on. This is what I did with it.

------

It was dawn. I was in my towel when the ninjas attacked. That I could handle. It only got difficult when one of them snatched my towel. Bastard.

I mean, I'm not that flabby, you can't be and still have a chance of fighting off four ninjas on your own, but things bounce, and even if it is just a towel wrapped around your breasts it provides some support. Alright, maybe it doesn't. Maybe I just got panicky when I had to start fighting naked, but who wouldn't?

Anyway, that's how they got the upper hand. I'd taken down two but two were left and I could feel myself hesitating without my towel and holding my hands low, more protective of my bare breasts than my face. It was hard not to. While naked was technically natural, I didn't feel it right then. One nice roundhouse kick from the tall ninja and I was through the window.

One more good reason for clothes. Going through glass hurts a lot more without clothes than with, and then I was standing naked on my front lawn in front of my brand-new neighbors (I'd only just moved in this week -- condos for professionals -- though they'd never specified the type of professional they wanted) with ninjas climbing through the glass after me.

I took up a defensive stance trying hard not to notice my neighbors or notice my neighbors noticing me, when the handsome one, the one that caught my eye while I'd been pulling things from the moving truck, stepped out his front door. I winced and kicked one of the ninjas in the face -- take that for embarrassing me in front of Mr. Nameless Handsome Guy!

The taller ninja obligingly fell backwards, stunned if not out. I turned my attention to the only one still standing.

"Holy shit, are those ninjas?" Mr. Nameless Handsome Guy crowed stepping closer.

Still-up Ninja threw two stars at me as I skipped side to side trying to avoid the weapons while getting closer. They missed skipping right over Down-But-Not-Out ninja as he moaned and moved a hand to his jaw. He'd be up soon and I needed to get this last ninja before getting double-teamed all over again. Still-up Ninja was certainly not cooperating with my plan.

I'd dance forward and he'd hop back. I went right, he'd circle left. I'd notice the crowd of neighbors gathering just outside their front doors and he'd throw something sharp and pointy at me that I'd have to dodge and we'd start all over again.

I was just about to give up and charge him risking all sorts of bodily damage when I noticed Mr. Nameless Handsome Guy had gotten around behind Still-up Ninja and had found himself a shovel. Go Nameless Handsome Guy!

Still-up noticed me noticing and his slight turn meant he got full-on shovel in the face when Mr. Handsome swung. He went down. I nearly threw myself into Mr. Handsome's arms before I remembered my missing towel and instead kicked Down-But-Not-Out in the head again to keep him down.

I stopped and stared at Mr. Handsome for a moment trying to decide whether it was more important to say thank you and introduce myself or get some clothes. It was the first time in my short dangerous career as spy-bait (I'm not the actual spy, but just the decoy or guessed spy that makes everyone feel safe) that anyone had tried to help me and I was impressed.

I smiled pouring as much friendliness as possible into it, since I didn't think I could really talk anyway (I think my voice stayed with my towel) and I walked back to my broken window. Honestly, the first step was a jog but the first corresponding bounce slowed me to a quick-smooth walk.

The front door was always locked when I was in the shower -- which was where I had been just before the ninjas attacked. A quick peek let me know that where ever they'd broken in, it wasn't the front door, so my only quick entrance was the same place I'd made my quick uncontrolled exit, despite it's jagged unwelcoming edges and the fact that this first floor windowsill was nearly shoulder height for me.

I glanced around. Though most of my neighbors weren't going away they hadn't gotten any closer either. The only exception was Mr. Handsome. He moved up behind me cupping his hands stirrup style.

Accepting the offer quietly, I put a hand on his shoulder for balance and tried to avoid noticing how close to his mouth my shouldn't-be-naked parts were. We worked well together though. His quick push, and my small jump, shot me through the opening without me gathering any new scrapes or glass.

I landed poorly but low enough he couldn't see my quick struggle for balance. Of the two ninjas that hadn't followed me out, one was still unconscious and the other was gone. At least there was no lost face there.

"I hope it doesn't seem forward," I heard Mr. Handsome say through the window, "but I believe you have glass in your ass."

I winced and peeked back just in time to catch him wincing too, which cheered me considerably. As long as he didn't think that line was suave or debonair we might still be able to go somewhere with this. Sure, he saw me naked before he even learned my name, but really how bad could that be?

I grabbed my terry robe and threw it on before moving back to the window. There was as much glass in my back and shoulders as in my ass, so it wasn't pleasant.

"I meant," said Mr. Handsome as I leaned over the jagged frame, "that you, that I noticed that you lived alone -- or at least I haven't seen anyone else yet -- not that I've been watching, that is...."

He trailed off and closed his eyes. It looked like he might be counting to ten. When he opened them again his eyes caught mine and they were so open and trusting I almost couldn't breathe. I wanted to touch him.

"I mean," he tried again, "that if you need help, I'm available."

"I'm Janice," I replied, extending my hand through the broken glass. Available was such a nice word.

"Rick." He wrapped his warm fingers around mine. My hand was lost inside his larger one, my paleness swallowed up in his golden tan. I was lost in the sight and the sensation until he released me, turning to go.

'What the hell is wrong with me?' my brain demanded of my currently breathless over-sensitive body. My loss of self-control worried me. I glanced back to be sure the remaining ninja behind me was still out. He was, and suddenly I panicked that Rick was getting away.

"Did you mean it?" I called out the window to his already retreating form. His head popped up hopefully, it seemed. Did I dare hope?

"The offer to help?" he asked.

I nodded, then he did. It seemed we were both having troubles with our voices.

"Front door?" I asked. He nodded and we both moved that direction. The ninja on my floor was conscious now, but playing dead, waiting for me to leave the room so he could escape.

I considered kicking him again, considered calling my superior to report the trouble, considered --- then I heard Rick at the front door and I walked out of the room. As I heard the ninja scramble out the window, I smiled. Life was all about having the right priorities.

I let Rick in and poured us both some vodka. Though the red shades of dawn hadn't entirely faded from the sky, I was in pain, and had spent entirely too much time naked in front of my neighbors. He didn't have to drink his, but it would have been rude not to give him one. I wandered off to the bedroom for some tweezers and downed mine in one big gulp.

"I usually try to get to know a girl first," he said in that voice that knew it screamed cheesy line, "but the blood seeping through the terry cloth says you need to get naked again."

I laughed enjoying a man able to make fun of himself. His glass was empty too, so he must have needed the liquid courage as much as I had. The new condo had a countertop separating the kitchen from the living room so I leaned across it to get another drink.

"You know," he asked, as I dropped my robe and leaned over the bar, "our grandchildren will never believe this how-we-met story."

I grimaced at the glass removal and at his dripping cheesiness, and decided to find it all romantic.