Andrew had bought a pair of boxing gloves. He'd called Jorge and they'd worked out a time that was good for both of them. Andrew was wearing a loose t-shirt with a tank underneath and a pair of shorts. He had a pair of pants he could change into after the work out in a bag. Andrew did not want to walk back into the mansion smelling like the gym.

Either way he'd found the place just in time and was waiting just inside for Jorge. Today Jorge meant to teach him how to defend himself. It was something he'd been meaning to get to for some time so he was glad the opportunity had presented itself. No more having to fear the alleyways he walked past. At least without good reason anyway. If a slobbering hell beast with fire and brimstone issuing from it's mouth resided in said alley that would be a good reason to be afraid. If Sam wasn't with him to cool the hotheaded mongrel down anyway.

Thought tangents aside Andrew was looking forward to seeing the older guy again. Friends his own age were great but sometimes you just wanted an older voice of reason. Or in this case humor, law, and water. Just this once Andrew skipped figuring out why he liked Jorge, chalked it up to the guy just being likable, and went back to waiting. Well waiting and daydreaming about what it might be like to have powers that could actually be of use or some decent fighting abilities. Maybe then he could do more than just be Sam's assistant. For now though this was all he could do to work up to that. Kealey had told him to do what he could. Since he couldn't do anything yet he'd just have to learn.

Jorge had received the call from Andrew, the meeting had been set up and now here he was, pulling up to the front of the gym in his Impala. He was glad that the kid took him up on his offer. Unfortunately due to the jumpiness he noted in him at their last meeting, he had a feeling that the kid was one of those constant victims of being picked on. Not because he was necessarily weak, but really because went by his own beat. That tended to make people targets though they never asked for that lot in life. So it would probably be beneficial for Andrew to learn a thing or two.

As he climbed out of his car, he pulled a duffle bag which contained a change of clothes and his boxing gloves from the backseat and headed into the gym. He was dressed in baggy black sweatpants and a hoodie that had a cartoon Horse flexing a bicep which was all together a slightly disturbing sight and underneath that the edge of his dark blue tank top could be seen.

With duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Jorge into the gym and glanced about. He figured that he would get here before Andrew but as he turned he immediately caught sight of him already sitting off to the side and waiting for him. A small smirk he headed over and got the kid’s attention immediately.

“Morning Andrew,” he said as he pulled his dufflebag off his shoulder. “I take it that you’re ready to get this started huh? Come on,” he headed over to the desk to sign them in. “I’ll get us signed in, you get your gloves out but don’t put them on yet.”

The kid’s eager, good. At least that means he wants to learn, Jorge thought to himself as he walked up to the front desk. He immediately signed both him and Andrew up. Though Jorge was no real teacher, he had hoped he could at least impart some knowledge onto him. After all, everyone needed to know how to at least throw one punch. Just in case.

"Morning Jorge."

Andrew stood from his seat and grabbed his gloves out of his bag. Jorge looked like he felt better than the last time he'd seen him. That was good. A grumpy detective was the last thing he wanted to deal with today. A smirk crossed Andrew's face as he thought about it and was soon gone. While Jorge took care of the signing in Andrew looked around. He'd never really seen the inside of a gym before.

In high school he'd been more academic and social than concerned about his physique. After his mutation had manifested itself he'd turned strictly academic. Even though he was making friends again now that still stuck with him. Andrew set himself a pretty strict study schedule. Sure he appreciated the ability to throw a punch, even more so now that he had when he was younger. But he preferred books and learning over such things.

He couldn't really think of anything to say at this point so Andrew just stayed quiet. Unlike the other day this wasn't a first meeting or anything. Andrew couldn't really think of anything to say or ask that wouldn't sound like he'd just pulled a topic out of thin air. Oh the joy of social awkwardness.

After signing in Jorge headed back over to Andrew and noticed that the kid seemed to be just slightly quiet. He could not blame him. What was there to really say right now other than hello? Andrew was surrounded by gruff looking men who seemed that they would rather beat someone into a pulp rather than wish them a good morning, so there was no surprise that he was quiet. Still, Jorge hoped to get the kid out of that shell.

As he headed over he walked a little past Andrew and opened the door to the boxing training area. “Come on,” he said encouragingly and walked in, waiting for Andrew to follow after.

Inside the gym the air smell of perspiration, echoed with punches and shouts, and looked like a haven for any red blooded male in need to punching out some aggression. A single boxing ring dominated the center of the room that already had a couple of boxers inside, who dodged and wheeled around each other like they were gladiators at the coliseum. Around the edges of the room were several pieces of useful equipment such several types of punching bags, including heavy bags, speed bags, Slam men and etc. as well as weight training equipment and specially designated areas for boxers to work with their trainers.

Jorge patted Andrew on the arm and headed over to an empty bench that was near one of the small sectioned off floor of training. He dropped his bag onto the floor and started to move things around until he found two rolled up masses of gauze and tossed one of them over to Andrew.

“Okay, first and foremost, you need to keep your hands protected. Gloves are essentially just big padding for your hands, but they can’t absorb all the force of the punch. So,” he held up the gauze like the kind he tossed Andrew and started to slowly wrap it around just under his wrist and up towards his hands, covering his palm until he ripped it off the end of it. “You’re going to wrap your hands just like this. The gauze will add some protection to your hands by keeping your fist padded and prevent putting the bones in your hand at risk with each punch.”

Well it was safe to say Andrew felt out of place. He just followed the detective. Once he was seated on the bench he listened to Jorge's statements and did as directed.

"Ok then."

Of course his attention eventually skewed from the task at hand, literally, to the other people in the room. Why this appealed to some people as anything more than a way to defend themselves boggled the college student's mind. He just wasn't an aggressive person. Yeah he got mad but it took a lot. Nine times out of ten even when he was mad it stayed bottled up. Oh well, to each their own. After all he liked to bake and was considering taking theater courses. Who was he to cast stones?

Once he finished wrapping his fists he looked over to the older man. He wondered what it had been like for Jorge, dealing with his mutation. This was hardly the place to talk about it but that didn't stop him wondering about it. No mutant had it easy but every story was different. Eh, he'd bug him about it some other time. Right now he was supposed to be learning how not to get his face pushed in.

Jorge nodded once he saw that Andrew had his hands properly wrapped up. He had to admit that he was a little impressed with that. In his time going into boxing gyms, he had rarely ever seen newbies put their wrappings on correct and here Andrew was able to do it on the first try. So maybe there was some fight in this kid after all. He liked that. Meant that there was more potential in him than he originally thought. This would definitely help out in the long run.

“Okay, so here are a few basics,” Jorge said as he stood next to Andrew. He still had not put on his gloves. “So what you’re going to do and stretch out a bit first. You need to limber up your muscles and warm them up otherwise you’ll be sorry, especially if you’ve never done this before. Your body will be in a world of hurt.”

Jorge than showed Andrew a few stretches. He extended out his arms, twisted his core a little from side to side, and made sure his legs were stretched. He had Andrew copy him exactly and though he was sure that some of these stretches might had hurt Andrew a bit, he knew that in the big picture they would be helpful. He chuckled as he then took a boxer’s stance and held his fists up in the exact way that he wanted Andrew to copy him. It was a basic stance, knees bent just a little but kept strong and fists up, tightly wound in the gauze.

“Now, the key to boxing,” he explained as he stepped away from Andrew the moment he saw he had the correct stance. “is to know that the power does not come from your fists. It comes from your feet. When you twist to punch, you putting all the momentum into it, that your gathering from the ground as punch out. Watch.”

Jorge grabbed his hoodie and pulled it off to reveal the dark blue tank top underneath. In doing so Jorge Cervantes also revealed the hard life he too has had. Across his one of his arms there was an old scar or two that looked like they had either been near miss gunshots or knife wounds. The worst of them all was a scar that peeked out from behind his right shoulder. It was a gunshot scar and a particularly bad looking one. Yes, this cop did have a hard career and hard stories that went with it.

He then got next to Andrew, got into his boxing stance and began to show him the first and most basic move that a boxer should know. The Jab. And with that first punch, their training began.

They delved right into it after Andrew stretched out. Proper stance and the technique behind how to throw a decent punch flew by as Andrew worked at it. So maybe there was something to it. The repetitive motion was actually pretty relaxing. Similar to his baking but a lot more active. Andrew picked it up fairly quickly and what he didn't learn quickly he worked at until he did. Giving up just because something was difficult was not what Andrew did.

That said he just knew he would be feeling all this tomorrow. As the various punches went past Andrew thought of how he could put this to use. And when he got tired he'd just picture one of the various thugs he'd encountered. That helped keep him going until they took a break.

Andrew sat back on the bench and focused on getting his breathing in check. While he did he thought about the scars he's seen on Jorge. The man obviously hadn't had an easy career. Andrew wasn't going to pry here but he was curious. Of course since he'd divested himself of his t-shirt his own scars were showing too.

Two on his right arm. Both of these were slight. The one on his forearm looked a lot fresher than the one on his bicep though. The worst one however showed only a hint as it was on his back at the right shoulder and partially covered. It was however large and not particularly neat. Once he'd caught his breath Andrew stood back up, ready to get back to work or whatever Jorge might have in mind.

There was conviction. Jorge clearly saw that in the boy and obviously he had some of his own issues that he needed to work out while they were training. But in a way he was thankful for that because it was clear that while Andrew may have had a hard life, he had the drive to learn from it. He wanted to learn how to fight, not because he wanted to run around and beat up everyone, but because he wanted to be safe the next time someone decided to take advantage of him. Jorge couldn’t blame him for that. Who could?

As he set up their next exercise, the detective noted the scars that Andrew had on his person. It again, it must have been a hell of a life. Jorge had his own marks from life so there was another thing they had in common. But it seemed almost funny. Here were these two, of vastly different ages, with vastly different paths and mutations and yet they probably shared some of the same types of tragedies. Life could be funny that way, when mixing together two types of people.

He took a deep breath as he rifled around in his gym bag, pulled out two bottles of water and tossed one to Andrew. He took only a quick sip of his before he pulled out a piece of paper from his bag and headed over to the heavy bag.

“Okay Andrew, you have a lot of the basic’s down. You’re picking it up quicker than I thought you would. That’s good. Keep that attitude when your training and don’t give up.” he turned around and placed a paper on the heavy bag, but did not turn it around to show him what it was. “Now, it is time to learn some hit points. These are the sweet spots you want to aim for when your are fighting. And to help you keep your focus…” he turned the paper over and taped it to the heavy bag. It was a printed out, grainy photograph of a face. The face of Mittens.

Jorge stepped back and looked for that connection between Andrew and the heavy bag. He was not looking to tease the boy but a thought struck him earlier. It was obvious that the incident was bad for Andrew, but also, it was a wake up call. He wanted to learn to fight for this specific type of reason. To learn to defend himself from bullies like Mittens who pick on those they perceived to be weakest. And Jorge believed that Andrew no longer wanted to be seen as weak.

“Listen up Andrew, for all intensive purposes, until I say otherwise,” he nodded to the dummy, “this is Mittens, the man who grabbed you and tried to dangle you out an apartment window. Now, I’m not trying to make you made. I want you focused. You want to fight, you need to know where to hit. And to remember where to hit, you need to think of someone who really grabs your attention. Get me?” Jorge asked. He then proceeded to point out the various spots, the ribs, the gut, under the chin all the places that would take an opponent down for the money. With that, he stepped back to watch how Andrew would handle this exercise.

Andrew took a drink from the water he was tossed as Jorge started setting something up on a heavy bag. Recognition zinged through Andrew despite the grainy quality of the picture. His hand tightened on the water bottle somewhat as he took a last drink and put it down. That particular mug was a face Andrew hadn't wanted to see again unless he could screw it up royal. It was just a picture on a heavy bag but it would do. It served the purpose Jorge wanted. The faux-Mittens had his attention.

His ears registered Jorge's words about where to strike and Andrew visualized where each of those zones would be on this version of Mittens. The next few minutes were something of a blur as Andrew went to work on the heavy bag Mittens. Each of the places Jorge had mentioned were struck, generally more than once, and all of them with more force than he'd needed to use.

Along with picturing Mittens Andrew was running through the entire incident in his head and each strike was fueled by some portion of the event or another. Perhaps Jorge hadn't meant to make him angry but Andrew had done a good job of getting that way. No wonder these guys came here to punch stuff. It felt pretty good and was especially effective for releasing anger in a way that was less damaging than using it on other people. Andrew tried to dial it back a notch, his more thoughtful side somewhat appalled by the violence. It didn't work that well.

Andrew stopped himself after one particularly vicious blow to what would have been Mitten's temple. Phew, that was more than he'd bargained for. He glanced over to Jorge apologetically. Issues and anger he had plenty of and that had assuaged some of them both for now.

"Sorry, got a little carried away."

Jorge stepped back, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Andrew apparently take out a lot of pent up frustration on the Mitten’s faced punching bag that he had set up. He felt bad for a second because he did not want Andrew to break his hand punching, but it seemed as if he could have really used the therapy. The detective feared that by putting up the picture, he would ignite something in Andrew, but he did not think it would reach this level. But still, Jorge did not stop him. Instead, he watched as the kid hit hard and fast, striking each and every zone with rage-filled precision.

And then he watched Andrew aim high and hit the side of the bag where Mitten’s temple would have been. Jorge knew that a strong enough hit there could end really bad for whoever he was fighting, but the kid seemed to recognize this and take a step back.

>>Sorry, got a little carried away.”

Jorge smirked and shook his head.

“No need to apologize, you only did what I figured you needed,” Jorge said as he uncrossed his arms. “You got some skill, kid. Think I might just make a fighter out of you after all.”

He turned and reached once more into his bag and pulled a pair of beaten, but still in good condition red gloves. There was no look back at Andrew as he slipped them onto his hands and headed towards one of the empty, training boxing rings. He punched each glove into each other to break them in a bit and when he got to the ring, he jumped onto the edge and pried open the ropes. After that he did look at Andrew and waved him over. Around them several of the other training boxers looked up, apparently curious at the sight of the older cop getting ready to spare the young kid. A couple began to step forward, arms crossed as they looked at each other amused.

Jorge spied Andrew, shot him a wink and again nodded him over. “Come on kid. I can talk to you all day, but you need to live this if you want to learn.”

Jorge pardoned his eager barrage on the bag. That was good because it had felt good enough that Andrew couldn't bring himself to feel properly sorry for it. He didn't vent his frustrations nearly often enough and he knew it. It wouldn't change but he knew it at least. Jorge then grabbed his gloves and went to the ring. Oh boy, now it was time for some actual sparring. He was going to suck. Andrew just knew it. Jorge was a cop with experience in this stuff and Andrew was a skinny college kid who had never hit a heavy bag until that very day. Still he fished out his own brand new set of boxing gloves, black as opposed to red, and stuck them on.

Andrew crossed over to the ring and hoisted himself inside. He was well aware of the interest they'd generated. Jorge looked like he belonged here a lot more than Andrew did. Nervous was an apt descriptor of the young man at that particular moment. His movements showed it, as did the rest of his body language. Jeez this was getting tiresome. Note to anyone out there that could read his mind: being shy sucked, majorly.

It was time to focus. So Andrew focused on Jorge. With a little concentration he was able to forget that there were other people in the room. This was a fight. Distraction was only good if it worked in your favor. His face changed from nervous to almost stern as he took up the stance that Jorge had showed him.

"Ready when you are Jorge."

Time to learn by doing.

Having stepped aside the let Andrew into the ring, Jorge stood back and let the kid get his nerve up to start their sparring match. This was little more than an exercise but it was better than punching a heavy bag. It was easy to work off aggression against an inanimate object since it stood there and took whatever hits you could deliver. But the experience was better against a live, moving person. In the ring with someone else, you got the sense of movement, you learn to except to get hit and most of all you learn that anything can happen. That is exactly what Jorge was going to teach Andrew now.

>> “Ready when you are Jorge.”

Jorge smirked as he jumped in place a bit to get his muscles loosened up and then shook out his arms. He nodded as he watched Andrew move into the stance he taught him and stepped forward.

“Good Andrew. Keep your hands up,” he said as he stopped in front of Andrew and kept his own fists up.

Already now a couple of the boxers who were there training had stopped to take interest in what was going on in the ring. Jorge definitely looked like the dominating force, but the few who had looked on while Andrew was at the heavy bag had to admit that Andrew had some speed behind his punches, though they were a bit inexperienced. So they watched as Jorge and Andrew seemed to size each other up, yet Jorge still instructed as he made sure Andrew had the correct stance and posture.

“Okay, you ready for this Andrew?” he asked as he kept his guard up and slowly edged closer. “Let’s see what you got.”

Slowly the elder boxer pushed forward, feigned to make a punch with his left, before he suddenly switched it up and punched out with his right. He felt the punch connect, but it was with the side of Andrew’s arm and he nodded with grin.

“That’s good. Keep your guard up. Don’t let any in.” He then feigned again before he suddenly swung with a right cross.

Jorge closed in, still talking as he did so. Andrew kept his guard up and didn't say anything. He was too busy concentrating on what Jorge was doing. If he was going to use this against someone out on the streets he wanted to make sure he got it right. The same focus and determination he normally reserved for his studies were applied here. He managed to block Jorge's first punch, though his instinct was to avoid it all together.

Jorge praised him for the block but it fell on deaf ears. It was the same as when his mom had tried to call him for dinner while he was studying. She had to come to his room and hit him over the head to get his attention because he was so absorbed. Jorge had feigned left and then punched right the first time. When he did so again Andrew was ready. He blocked the punch as best he could, feeling it impact on side of his arm like the other one had. Then he lashed out with a left jab of his own.

Almost immediately after the jab Andrew swung in with a right hook. He wanted to continue attacking but felt it would likely be a bad idea so he lapsed back into his guard and waited to see what Jorge would do. Too much aggression would leave him wide open. He was still learning so caution was best. Jorge likely had a trick up his sleeve and Andrew didn't want to leave the man an opening to use it.

Jorge was actually grinning as he felt his right hook glance off of Andrew’s defense. He could tell that the kid was finally getting it. He was applying what Jorge managed to show him already and he seemed to be taking to it like a fish to water. Andrew was going to be a quick learner so he knew that he was going to have to up the stakes a little. Not enough to hurt the kid, obviously, just enough so that he could show Andrew that he did have it in him.

He was experienced enough to see that Andrew was intently focused. He was going to use everything he saw and picked up from Jorge, even what he was doing in the ring as they spoke. After his right cross connected with Andrew’s defense, he was almost surprised that the kid lashed out with a jab, following by a quick right cross of his own. It was easy for Jorge to block but still enough of a surprise that the kid had managed to apply it to their fight so quickly. The detective grinned at this turn of events as he watched Andrew back off but remain on the defense still.

“Alright good. Your punches are strong and precise, very good.” Jorge took a couple of steps to the right, staying close to Andrew before he suddenly shifted to the left. “Keep your eyes open Andrew. Look for openings…anything you can use to your advantage…”

As he said this, the detective suddenly lashed out with another jab and followed it up with another. It was easy for the kid to block, but that is what Jorge was counting on. He needed the kid to watch him, to keep his eyes on his movements and decipher from there what he was going to do next. Apparently Andrew was good at this, his focus seemed solid and unyielding. He was not going to let any of Jorge’s moves out of his sight.

Jorge continued this exercise, throwing small jabs high and low and he circled left and right, just trying to keep the boy moving and distracted. Then, before he knew it, Jorge let out a quick combination. He struck out with too fast left jabs and suddenly, quicker than seemed possible for the older man, lashed out with a low, right body blow.

It wasn't through any particular talent that Andrew was doing well. It was simply that he refused to let himself do poorly. The conviction he usually applied to studying that had him working every day until he was fully versed in any particular subject was being used for this. His teachers in high school had loved him for the amount of effort he put forth. Andrew was no genius but he was decently intelligent and he used that. In this situation it helped.

Jorge kept grinning and praised him again. Once again the commentary fell on deaf ears. Andrew was still watching and waiting. As Jorge moved so did he. Keep your opponent in front of you. Don't take your eyes off of him for a second. Andrew weathered the jabs that Jorge threw. The man was moving around far too much. Inexperienced as he was it was difficult to keep up with.

Some of the jabs slipped in. Most did not. Andrew blocked the two left jabs easily enough but the low right body blow he was unprepared for. It connected solidly and knocked some of the wind out of Andrew. Trying to take advantage of the opening left by the blow Andrew threw his own right punch, aimed at Jorge's jaw. The blow didn't have as much power behind it as the previous two punches he'd thrown but Jorge had said to take advantage of any openings he could see.