What the hell? Was this guy some kind of a dancer in a past life? Who even does a pirouette in combat, let alone to avoid a bullet. Couldn't he just tilt his head to the side like anyone else would have done? 

While her mind gawked at robocop's display of dancing prowess, her body and instincts set about doing exactly what they'd been trained to do. Even before the pistol found its target, she was halfway over the cycle she'd been leaning against, and by the time he fired the bullets were whizzing harmlessly through the air above her. Some part of her mind registered that they were .45's, and another not so distant part added that up and told her he only had two shots left, at most. That was good at least. She still had 29 rounds loaded and rarin' to go, though she hated using them as anything more than a way to get things started. She always preferred up close and personal. Always.

Once on the other side of the bike, she didn't stop moving, instead dropping flat on her back and kicking away from it, keeping the pistol raised as she slid across the street and opening fire again as soon as she could see his head over the top of the bike. Once, twice, three times she fired, each time adjusting her aim to compensate for any movement on his part.