>>”A-A-Ah-ouch. First blood’s on you.”

Sveta laughed, lighter this time. The guy was nothing is not entertaining, in a goofy, big-softie kinda way. He seemed good-natured, despite the ego (which was well founded, she had to admit, in his looks if nothing else). Also, Sveta liked to win, whether it was banter, or an actual fight. And she liked an opponent that knew when he had been burned.

He followed her into the ring, and Sveta rolled her shoulders again, readying herself for a fight.

>>”Whenever you’re ready.”

He was definitely... larger than her. Taller, heavier, more muscular (damn), but that had never bothered Sveta beyond healthy caution. He obviously knew how to box, and was ready for her to make the first move. There was nothing else to do but comply.

The moment he said he was ready, Sveta lunged forward, throwing a rapid series of punches at the guy. Her gloves hit in quick succession, not expecting all of them to land, but hoping that sheer speed would keep him from blocking quite all of them. She bounced on her feet, substituting momentum for size and strength, peppering Booker with punches to keep him off balance.

The laughter was lyrical. Booker grinned as he followed the chuckling woman into the ring. Booker was a fan of making fun of himself, it was one of the ways he found make others giggle or snort the quickest. Besides, if you couldn’t make fun of yourself, what right did you have to make fun of others (not that Booker did that in any mean-spirited way). An added perk was that Svetlana’s laughter was actually quite pleasing to the ear. How fortunate for him to make a new friend that he could make laugh and who could make him laugh in return.

Once in the ring, however, it was an entirely different story. Both their strides were confident with a dash of cockiness mixed in. They both had an idea of what they were doing but it was a little like David facing off against Goliath. Then again, look what happened to Goliath in that scenario…

Booker wanted to feel like he had too much of the upperhand but he knew better than to underestimate a smaller opponent. He may have been bigger and stronger and had the superior reach, but she was smaller, probably harder to hit, and he was going to guess a bit faster than him. The downside of having a tightly compact muscles as Booker did was that he telegraphed like a sonnavab****. Thankfully his time doing speed drills was working off and his trainer said that he didn’t showcase as much; still some, but not a lot.

An invisible bell went off the second that Booker passed the first move onto her. She came in, fast, a little angry puff ball with nubby little dukes up, ready to fight. Booker was already in his stance so he immediately brought his fists up to protect his face and curled her arms slightly lower to keep his body safe and accommodate her much shorter reach. Curled in like a protected armadillo, Booker winced when he felt punches flurry against his forearms, biceps, ribs and side. He did his best to maneuver and keep himself guard but, like he suspected, she moved fast and managed to get a few kidney shots in he wasn’t expecting.

Still, Booker didn’t break his guard. He kept his arms up, protect, protect, protect, until finally he spotted that signal he was looking for. You see Booker wasn’t just on his guard, he was scrutinizing her, studying, watching her movements until finally he could see a pattern. As much as everyone wanted to believe that they didn’t have one, they did and with Booker’s eidetic memory and his knack for following patterns, he managed to pluck it out.

Wait…

Wait…

Wait…

…there. He saw it and the man pounced. Before she could lash out with another punch, Booker suddenly jabbed out his glove-covered fist with surprising speed. This was followed by the same arm once it retracted back, and lastly was followed up by his other fist from his stronger arm, the one that had been coiled the whole time, tensing, and ready to snap. And snap it did, fast and hard, directly towards her…

Sveta's tactics seemed to be working. For a while. She was light on her feet, and did not give the guy a break to collect himself. He curled in on himself like an armadillo, attempting to offer the smallest possible surface for attack - and yet, she managed to get a few good hits in, even though he was tough enough not to give her much of a reaction.

And then, all of a sudden, he was on the offensive.

Honestly, Sveta did not expect this kind of speed from a guy his size, and that was a mistake all of her own. The first jab she managed to block, but the second threw her for a loop as she shifted, expecting and attack from the other side; her defenses scrambled, she was hit square in the ribs by the third, air being knocked out of her lungs as she stumbled back against the ropes of the ring. It took her a moment to draw a breath again, and she shook her head, giving Booker an appreciative look.

"Not bad." she noted, getting back on her feet. At least he did not break her face. This time. Sveta bounced back, ignoring the sore ribs, and took on a defensive position.

"Your turn, big guy."

Booker lashed out like a man ready to fight. He had taken some punishment from Svetlana but it wasn’t the worst it could have been. Thanks to his larger stature and his curled defense, he managed to stave off most of her attacks except for a few that managed to weedle in plant. Booker didn’t appear as if they had hurt but they did sting just enough to cause a distraction. If she kept it up he eventually would have gone down from each strike and his defense would have been ruined. It was that reason, and that one alone, that he lashed out the way that he did, delivering two solid jabs, which she blocked, but the third snuck in, catching her in the ribs.

It was a good thing that he had pulled back some of his strength. He didn’t want to take it easy on the young woman (that would have been insulting) but he didn’t want to murderize her. This was just a sparring match and nothing more. He could have aimed for her face and easily broken her nose but, on top of not wanting to hurt her, it was a cute widdle nose too.

Ahem.

Watching as Svetlana stumbled back into the ropes with a huff. Booker momentarily broke his stance, straightening up and moving towards her, hand outraised to make sure that she was okay. The chivalrous side of him was hard to quiet down from time to time but the man managed to keep it somewhat in check. Again, he didn’t want to insult her. It was her suggestion that they get into the ring so she should know that doing so meant getting hit. Still, there was no harm in asking.

”You okay?”

>> "Not bad."

He smirked at her response. Thankfully she seemed fine. After a second, she grinned at him and bounced off the ropes, straightening her posture. Moving back towards the center of the ring, he joined her and watched as she slipped into a more defensive position. Hands up, stance lowered, Booker momentarily grumbled to himself about how small of a target she was able to make herself. THIS would be easy…

>> "Your turn, big guy.

Another grin on his lips and Booker provided her with an elegant bow of respect before he slipped into his own fighting stance. Gloves up, he bounced light on his feet as he moved around her, keeping her in his sights. When enough time had passed, Booker then took the offensive, striking out with a one-two jab combo before, dancing back and moving around her. He kept this up, testing her defenses with jabs, then moving back, then more jabs. When he finally jabbed and thought he spotted an opening, Booker arched his arm, aiming for a kidney hit.

Yeah, she was okay. Sure, her pride was bruised, but if one could not handle getting hit, she had no place in the ring in the first place. Sveta shook the frustration off and grinned as they got back into the fight.

This time, it was his turn to be on the offensive. Sveta took a stable stance and pulled her arms close to her body, ready to block the attack whenever it came. Booker threw some jabs at her and she managed to block and dodge, feeling the strength of his hits through her gloves and arms. The guy was not pulling punches. Good. Otherwise, she would have to kick his ass on principle.

The hits came faster now, and she knew he was looking for an opening - but that did not help her with keeping from offering one. Eventually, he shifted and threw a kidney hit. Sveta reacted on instinct; she was familiar with these kinds of attacks, but she was not formally trained in boxing enough to know how to avoid them. So instead, she instinctively dropped lower and swept a leg out, aiming a kick at the back of the guy's calves, hoping to throw him off his feet.

Okay, so not really a boxing move. Sveta was just too good at survival.

She had a good defense. Booker could admit that as he danced around Svetlana, his hands up and in position. While Booker wasn’t an expert in this field of fighting, he was practiced enough to know what to do when presented with certain situations. In the case of the young blonde, he was popping and weaving, getting in a few experimental jabs with hopes of discovering a weak spot somewhere on her person. Her positioning was tight but there were a few spots that seemed ripe for a punch or two. While they weren’t vital, they would cause enough of a twist or distraction from the woman to open herself up for another hit.

He went in for it. Booker distracted with a few jabs, which she took, and then ducked in for a quick punch to the kidneys. He would pull back some of his strength as to not hurt her; however, none of it would go as planned. Just as Booker felt like he was about to make contact with his target, the blonde moved in a manner that he most certainly didn’t expected.

She dropped, low. But it wasn’t as a result of his punch landing (which it didn’t) but more because she purposefully dropped low to the ground and lashed out with her leg. It was such an unexpected move (because this was boxing) that the much larger man was unprepared for the kick. Feeling her leg connect with his, he stumbled, feeling his leg bend under the pressure she added.

”Whooa WHOA!!” he shouted and squeaked, feeling himself dance awkwardly backwards before gravity got a good hold of him and pulled him down to the ground with an unforgiving THUD! The breath momentarily knocked out of him, Booker just laid there, staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember how to breathe again. Once he did, he had a critique or two for her. ”Huh. I don’t recall being taught that kicks were allowed by my trainer…”

>>”Whooa WHOA!!”

Booker hit the ground with a satisfying thud. Sveta realized as soon as she did the leg sweep that she was way outside the limits of conventional boxing; still, bringing down someone larger and stronger than herself was a rewarding experience. She bounced back on her feet, looking down at him as he caught his breath.

>>”Huh. I don’t recall being taught that kicks were allowed by my trainer…”

"Sorry. Force of habit." Sveta grinned, which made it doubtful that she was sorry at all. Okay, so maybe she was a little sorry. "I'm... mostly self-taught." she admitted, waiting for him to get back on his feet. Sam would have been proud to know that her instincts kicked (heh) in like that. Even if it was not okay in boxing, it would have saved her a bruise (and possibly a life) in a real fight.

"I'm used to sparring with... less rules."

Okay so this was certainly not what Booker was expecting. When he agreed to spar with the young woman, his mindset had been totally set on a regular boxing match, not a free-for-all. She didn’t necessarily hurt him when she swept his legs out from under him but the man hadn’t been prepared for it so when he tumbled to the ground he was caught just a little off his guard. Lying flat on his back, he took a second to regain his sense of being, commenting that he wasn’t aware that sweeping the leg was in boxing. Thankfully the woman was at least a little remorseful for having done it to him.

>> "Sorry. Force of habit…I'm... mostly self-taught."

He chuckled and sat up, pulling himself up onto his feet. ”S’all good,” he said with a grin. ”Never could say it before but I guess I can now tell people I got swept head over heels.” His own words of wit made the man grin. He was so intelligent.

Standing and brushing himself off with those oversized gloves, the man shook his head a little as he rubbed the back of his head with the padded fists and took a deep breath to shake off the last of the discomfort he felt from landing so hard. With that taken care of, he turn Svetlana who was further explaining her training history.

>> "I'm used to sparring with... less rules."

He nodded his head understandingly. ”Duly noted,” he said lightly. ”Though, you know, maybe keep the legwork to just bobbing and weaving?” He gave her a well-meaning, suggested smile. ”After all, everyone says that the best part of me are my legs.” He lifted one to show off his calf muscles in a joking manner.

When he was clearly ready to continue, Booker resumed his stance, waiting for Svetlana to do the same. When she did, he continued his testing technique, bouncing on his feet around her, fists up. He threw another few testing jabs, nothing too strong or weird. After a jab he stepped back started to walk around her, his fists lowered briefly to give his arms a rest. A look of curiosity rolled across his features as he continued to eye the blonde he was sparring with. There was a question on his lips.

Arms up, he moved in again for few more testing jabs. ”Mind if I ask you a question?” he started. Jab. Jab. ”Feel free not to answer – and I promise it’s nothing creepy.” Impish grin. Jab. ”You know what I am. I take it that means you’re one of…you…them? A mutant, right?” He didn’t say the name in any detesting way but more out of respect. And he kept his voice low so that only she could hear. Jab. ”What can you do? If I may ask?”

>> ”S’all good. Never could say it before but I guess I can now tell people I got swept head over heels.”

Sveta snorted and rolled her eyes. The flirty one-liners just kept on coming. It was almost like the guy wanted to be hit on. Or just hit.
She was still amused by the way she managed to sweep his feet from under him. The guy must have been used to clear rules, and people who kept them. She imagined Sam would be amused by the idea. When one was a vigilante, survival beat rules, every time.
Well, most of the time.

>>”Duly noted. Though, you know, maybe keep the legwork to just bobbing and weaving? After all, everyone says that the best part of me are my legs.”

Sveta shook her head, making a show about giving in to his rules.

"Sure. I'll play nice." she did not usually like playing nice, but this was a person she just met, and one who had not done anything wrong, so she did not want to piss him off or seriously hurt him just yet. Boxing was okay, for now.

They danced around each other, getting a few hits in, and blocking others. They traded jabs and hits, more as a show of speed and strength, rather than a real fight. Sveta could see Booker was about to say something before he did, but she kept her defenses up, in case it was a distraction.

>>”Mind if I ask you a question?... Feel free not to answer – and I promise it’s nothing creepy. You know what I am. I take it that means you’re one of…you…them? A mutant, right? What can you do? If I may ask?”

Oh, there it was. It only made sense that if someone reacted to an adapted aura, that someone would be a mutant. Sveta knew she'd given herself away, but she hoped he would not pry. Now that he did, even though he gave her a way out, she wanted to find the least suspicious way to answer.
Good thing: She could claim any power she wanted. He had no way to check.

"I'm... I have an aura, like you" she said finally, keeping close to the truth, since that was the easiest way to lie "I am like coffee, to people. Like a coffee buzz." it was true. It was not the whole truth, but it was enough. "I give extra energy to people who stand close to me."

>> "Sure. I'll play nice."

He smirked as he bowed his head. ”Thank you for your most gracious generosity.”

Booker was all for people having varied styles but considering that he knew nothing about it, and it didn’t want to flail spastically or hurt the young woman, he figured it was best that they worked within the confines of some kind of rules. It was just appropriate that way and, let’s face it, just a little more fair. He had a pretty face, after all, and he didn’t want to risk it getting smooshed onto the ground.

Now that they were sparring under a better sense of the rules, Booker had a clearer head to think. The woman was talented but it was clear that she had a wider set of skills than Booker did. He jabbed, she blocked and dodged, and the two of them continued to dance around one another. He was sure that she could probably really kick his butt if she wanted to, and it was a challenge that he didn’t want her to take on just yet. For the time being he was find with some friendly sparring as it had been some time since he had a willing partner – or, well, a partner of any kind to train with.

Still, as the two continued to jab and test the other’s defenses, Booker couldn’t help a nagging question that formed in the back of his mind. She knew what he was, that was an adapted, but that could only mean one thing – she had to be a mutant. A human wouldn’t have known on sight alone that he was one, so the only way that she would have known was if her powers were affected. She did seem extremely skittish when she first stepped up to him but, after a few moments, was almost…relieved? It begged the question – what exactly could she do?

So, without beating around the bush (and giving her the opportunity to opt out) he inquired. What could she do?

>> "I'm... I have an aura, like you…I am like coffee, to people. Like a coffee buzz…I give extra energy to people who stand close to me."

He raised his eyebrows as he listened to her. That sounded like…quite the ability. Maybe not as impressive as firing beams from your eyes or summoning water with a gesture, but still it sounded like it was something that was tough to live with. He couldn’t imagine what that was like, to be near someone and to know that you were affecting them without meaning to. And he knew some people were didn’t drink caffeine because it made them anxious – would being around Svetlana just be absolute hell? He could scarcely wrap his mind around it.

Now would have been the time that Booker would have made some joke along the lines of “Wow, so you’re the best part of waking up?” or something that could be taken wrong like that. Booker did have a tendency to put his foot in his mouth. But the man also had an unbelievable amount of compassion and understanding a little of what the woman could do immediately made him feel just a tinge of sympathy for her. Not pity, mind you, but sadness that she can affect people without their knowing. In some ways, he was the same…

He sighed. ”Wow…sounds tough,” Booker said. Jab. Jab. ”And, like, all the time, I’m guessing?” Jab. Dance dance. Jab. ”Heh, and guess we’re more alike than figured.” He gave her a beaming smile before he shrugged. ”Except for the obvious…I’m way prettier.” Cocky grin and another jab.

They got into a comfortable rhythm. Not too monotone, but not too intense either, as Booker had started a conversation, and now they were punctuating sentences with jabs, dancing around each other.

>>”Wow…sounds tough. And, like, all the time, I’m guessing?”

"Yeah." Sveta nodded, dodging a jab and a punch and dancing another half turn before she threw some of her own. She was not going for serious damage, but she also had to consciously stop herself from using some moves unfit for a boxing match.

>>”Heh, and guess we’re more alike than figured. Except for the obvious…I’m way prettier.”

"You are!" Sveta agreed in an overly saccharine voice, as if talking to a little girl who asked if she was pretty. It was entertaining, this banter with the guy. "And you are really good at turning me off, too!"

Turning her powers off. Obviously.
The pun was an added bonus.

It was comfortable. Boxing with the young woman, having a rather fun conversation with her. Booker had only known a few mutants in his lifetime (one being his sister and another being an ex-boyfriend) but the man had always found them fascinating. Not in some kind of lab animal / freak kind of way that a lot of people saw them as. In reality, they were just like everyone else and Booker understood that. It was like race, only instead of ethnicities, some people could just fireballs from their nostrils (not that he knew anyone who could do that). And even though Booker himself had been denied the wonders of the X-Gene, he was special in his own and unique way. The world just had a way of going ‘round.

Svetlana proved to be utterly interesting. From the description of her abilities, he found himself both impressed and a little saddened for her. To have that ability over people, without even trying, must have had it a hard life for her. Not everyone could withstand a sensation like that. Booker remembered when he was in college, the number of times he pulled all-nighters, sucking down cup after cup of coffee and the heart-racing, pulse-pounding night that followed. Booker felt like his heart was going to explode. And if this was the sensation that the woman could inflict upon others, then damn, that sounded like a burden.

She somber “Yeah” could have been in agreement to his sympathetic comment, or merely answering that her powers were on all the time. Booker said nothing more on it, though, as he just continued to get swept in the little sparring match the two of them had. She dodged and weaved and struck back, Booker blocked and continued to hop. It was a good work out. However, him being him, he couldn’t help but drop a little crack at their abilities and the fact that he was the prettier of the two.

>> "You are! And you are really good at turning me off, too!"

The condescension in her voice (even though she was joking) was clear to Booker and the man couldn’t help the genuine grin that crept over his lips. The woman before him certainly had a way with her words and the man was thoroughly impressed. He couldn’t help the chuckled that passed through his lips as he tried to keep his fists up and offering a jab or two in initial response.

”Hey, a man’s gotta play up to his strengths,” he said with a small wink. A brilliant smile and suddenly Booker went in. That didn’t have the same strength behind them but he punched outward with two solid jabs.

They were having a good time. Making new friends, not being on guard all the time, and joking around with an almost-stranger were still fairly new experiences for Sveta, but one that she found lovely. A little voice in the back of her mind still told her that he might be a spy, or an undercover agent, or that the sky was going to fall... but that was mostly the adrenaline from the fight speaking, and she knew how to shut it out. Mostly.

Booker laughed at her comment.

>>”Hey, a man’s gotta play up to his strengths,”

He went in for another attack, and Sveta dodged one jab, but caught the other on the side. She danced back, catching her breath. Boxing by the rules was harder than she thought.

"So... what are your strengths?" she grinned at him over her gloves "I mean, other than being... pretty." Pretty hot, actually, but the guy did not need another ego boost "Are you a model or something?"

She dodged his jab but she took his other hit like a champ. Damn she was good at this. It honestly felt like she was holding something back which, to be honest, he more than understood. She did manage to get a good sweep on his earlier but he had asked if they could please stick to the rules just so because it was proper. She conceded but it did seem as if she was now fighting with one hand tied behind her back. Still, Booker was appreciative of the woman’s efforts and wouldn’t call too much attention to it. Besides, if she was doing this well at less than her full ability, then he could only imagine the beast that she was when she really let loose.

Their banter was another story, though. It was extremely fun for the man because there were few people in his life who actually cared for bantering with the man. Aside from his sister and her ex-girlfriend, Booker had a small number of friends who actually appreciated his wit or possessed the ability to trade fun-barbs with him.

Not the mention the fact that the woman was an absolutely knock-out to perceive. She was quite pretty and the accent and mental acuity only upped her attractiveness. However, despite his teasing and his stupid jobs, Booker was actually a gentleman in most respects so he it was not something he would voice at the moment. Knowing women like her in New York, she probably heard her fair share of clumsy pick-up lines or compliments that were taken the wrong way. He wasn’t about to be another statistic. Especially when she punched as hard as she did.

>> "So... what are your strengths? I mean, other than being... pretty…Are you a model or something?"

Booker snorted. He dropped his boxing stance for a moment, placing his gloved hands at his hips as he strolled around her but keeping a safe distance in case she tried to get brave. ”That’s quite the compliment,” he said with a chuckle. ”But no. I’m a librarian, actually.” He said this in a very proud, very matter-of-fact manner. ”Though my co-workers have suggested the option before.” He then slowly slipped back into his stance. ’What about yourself? I already surmised that you have to be a model, right?”

Okay so maybe a cheesy pick-up or two wasn’t all-together a bad thing right now. Heh.

>> ”That’s quite the compliment. But no. I’m a librarian, actually.”

Sveta blinked, this time in genuine surprise.

"Wait, seriously?" or in an adult movie?... She had heard about sexy librarians before, but they were usually skinny women in pencil skirts. Not that she had anything against gender equality in the workplace or anything. But damn, the guy was hot and smart? That was just unfair. Sveta signalled her frustration by throwing a few punches as they talked.

>>”Though my co-workers have suggested the option before. What about yourself? I already surmised that you have to be a model, right?”

Sveta snorted and dodged, danciong back.

"PR assistant, actually" she shrugged, using the easiest term to explain the mostly recruiting work she had done for Haven since she joined. He did not neet to know about the rest... the former vigilante, former-former mail order bride, or any of that. "But I have done a lot of odd jobs. Like, teaching Russian." his job bugged her more than hers, though. "So you... how did you end up being a librarian?"

Out of all things.