"Don' think I'll take it easy on ya.."

John trailed off, his eyebrows quirking up with his cheeky smile as he did. He couldn't help but boast just the smallest amount in an attempt to impress his opponent, keeping your attention on him as he balled up his fists and adopted a firm stance.

John 'Soap' Mactavish, your friend and colleague in the Task Force, had challenged you to a sparring match for the afternoon. Of course, his experience in both the battlefield as well as the training ground's exceeded yours to some amount, but there was no harm in trying.

No harm other than his persistent jabs and lunges, anyway. To him, the spar match was an opportunity to see you flat on your ass- or better yet, forced into submission by his hands. It could've been his spirit for a challenge, or the teensy, overwhelming crush on his coworker he had aquired over the span of time that you had been in the base.

Johnny was forced out of his train of thought by a particularly strong punch to the side of his ribs, making him grunt in mild surprise and pain.

"Uff-- c'mon, that the best ye can do, lass?"