Verdy checked the piece of paper with her directions scribbled on it then pushed it into the side pocket of her gym bag. Not far now. Finding gloves hadn’t been too difficult, and with the help of the internet and some ‘hard copy’ researching in the library she had discovered that a few other items needed to join them in the bag despite Jorge’s suggested simplicity. Water and a towel plus a change of clothes, just in case, she wasn’t certain if this was contact boxing or cardio but either way it was bound to make her sweat and the thought of walking back to the mansion, with or without Andrew and Jorge, in sweaty clothes didn’t appeal to her in the least.

Finally she rounded the corner and spied the place. Hitching the waistband of her grey tracksuit pants up and tightening the drawstring she gave herself a quick brush down and checked the time. Not too early, not to late, she had judged her arrival to give her just enough time to scout out where the bathrooms were and find details on session payments. It seemed foolish, but she hadn’t checked with Jorge if he had a membership, or if it was a visit-by-visit type of deal.

After her minor distracters were dealt with she returned to the front of the gym to wait for the others. If they got caught up in a battle of the teasing who knew if they would ever get inside. It was healthy, she was fairly sure, that the two men gave each other a ribbing now and then but it was an affectionate form of teasing with no real malicious intent, she was certain that it was a male thing possibly linked to the gym, which also seemed to be a male thing, judging from the look one of the treadmill runners was giving her. Another gave her a saucy wink and she wasn’t sure if she should take it as a compliment of her loose green t-shirt, or storm across and sock him one. She scritched the base of her ponytail nervously and looked away, praying he would be distracted by his own reflection in a moment and forget about her.

Gym bag in hand Andrew headed to the gym for one of his usual boxing session with Jorge. This one was slightly different from the others though. This time Verdy would be there. Andrew wasn't entirely sure what to think about that but he wasn't going to object. Verdy would benefit from it. He wouldn't be all that comfortable if Jorge had them spar like Andrew figured he would but he would deal. The gym's edifice loomed and Andrew headed inside.

Verdy was standing there in the lobby area waiting for him and Jorge. He was just about to walk up and say hi when he noticed two things. Actually they were two men and they were eying Verdy like she were a prime rib and they hadn't eaten in months. Andrew was inexplicably angered by this and waltzed right over to correct their error. Once he was even with Verdy he smiled at her, tucked one arm around her waist, pulled her closer to his side, and finally glared at the two men who had been looking.

If they had insisted on checking Verdy out the least they could do was be discreet about it. Andrew snorted in disgust. Really, Verdy had obviously been uncomfortable with it. The guys had ceased staring after Andrew had glared at them. Andrew was very happy with himself for aiding his friend. Of course he was utterly oblivious to any sort of awkwardness this display might have caused Verdy. In fact his arm didn't move an inch as they stood there for a minute or two. Only when he turned to smile and say hello did he remove said appendage from Verdy's waist.

First he had one student…and now he had two. Detective Cervantes had to chuckle a bit at himself as he drove down the street in his black, Chevy Impala and headed for the normal gym where he trained Andrew. He was a bit surprised that Verdigris had remembered and even wanted to begin training with Andrew, but then again it would be best. The two “friends” could lean on each other when things got tough, they could spar and train with each other as need be, and maybe even offer one another their own tips. After all, Jorge could not be around them 24/7 to tell them what they were and were not doing correct.

Still he had to admit that it has been a long time since he has trained anyone. Andrew was the first in a long time. Back in Miami the force used to hold free training sessions for kids on certain days of the week. It was only to raise awareness for parents to keep an eye on their children and make sure that they were safe and sound. Sometimes teaching a kid to fight was the only way for parents to take notice. But even then, the last kid he trained was a few years back and that had been for one day.

He hoped that his training skills were not getting rusty. But honestly, as he looked at the way that Andrew fought the last time he saw him really do it, it was not bad. The kid had progressed fairly well so maybe he really was doing something right?

He soon shooed these thoughts away as he drove on, catching sight of the gym. As he pulled his car up to the front, Jorge stepped out and grabbed his black duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. Slowly he approached the front doors, dressed simply in black sweats and a deep blue tank top with the logo for the Miami Police Department. As he stepped into the building, pulling open the door, he suddenly paused…

“Just friends by big toe!” he thought with a chuckle.

He had to admit that the scene looked rather humorous to him. Andrew had his arm wrapped around Verdy’s waist almost as if he owned her. They did say they were just friends, unless he heard them wrong. He doubted that, but it could be fun to make fun of them a little more.

Casually he walked up to them, a sly smile on his face as he remained unnoticed until he was standing directly behind them. Finally, when he was close enough, he cleared his throat to grab their attentions.

“Ahem…” he smiled widely. “Andrew, you don’t get a victory kiss until after you win a match. Not before. And preferably it’s not from the person you’re fighting.”

The sound of someone’s approaching footsteps drew her attention away from the two treadmill men and she glanced towards their source. She barely had time to recognise and smile at Andrew before he was grabbing her and drawing her close, giving a meaningful look towards the treadmill users. Her heart gave a single terrified thump before continuing at its normal rate. His snort towards the men as they found something else to distract themselves with reminded her of an angry bull.

Was it the movement of a friend protecting her in her vulnerable state? Or the type of protectiveness which hinted at something more? She refused to be disoriented or further confused and so marked it down as normal. Between her and Andrew just about anything could be passed off as normal, and to prove this she snaked her own arm around her friend’s hips and gave him a squeeze.

Totally not thrown, at all, not her, nope.

Jorge’s entrance also didn’t throw her. It certainly didn’t startle her enough that recently trimmed fingernails dug into her friend’s hip. Of course not. Retracting the offending fingers from Andrew she raised her eyebrows at Jorge. No victory kisses here, not a spec of them. She wasn’t certain that she was on the right level to be dishing out any teasing, so she opted for the safest option of being the butt of her own joke.

“What’s to say I won’t win with my epic guns?”

She flexed her unimpressive biceps cheekily and nodded to Andrew.

“Also hello to you too squeezy man, how have you been?”

He grinned. There was no way he was going to be taken off guard again. Of course Verdy's arm around him did shake him a little but that went away when she dug her nails into him as Jorge snarked at them. No way he was going to be thrown, nope. Andrew instead turned to Jorge and winked at the man.

"Then are you offering to be the victory kiss, old man? I wouldn't object but I don't know if Verdy would or not."

Andrew gave him another smirk and turned to Verdy.

"Right back at you squeezy gal. I'm fine. Getting by, doing my job."

To say nothing of totally screwing up recently with not only Verdy but Kate soon after. Or really anything else. He was sleeping much better though and only had nightmares about once a week anymore.

"Shall we get to it?"

It would feel good to work out. Of course Andrew had been working out on his own regularly ever since he'd started training with Jorge but the more formal sessions were more fun since he was with a friend. Hopefully he wouldn't end up getting too angry this time around. That was part of what his regular training sessions alone were for. That way he could vent his anger without affecting any of his friends.

>> “What’s to say I won’t win with my epic guns?”

Jorge chuckled at this. He had been joking with Andrew before about Verdigris beating him up, but while she looked much smaller in comparison to him, he had to admit that she also looked quick. It might not be so farfetched after all to assume that she could beat him. But before he could respond, Andrew was quick to jump with his own smart mouth.

>> "Then are you offering to be the victory kiss, old man? I wouldn't object but I don't know if Verdy would or not."

Verdigris looked startled but by now Andrew was learning to roll with his punches…both inside and outside of the ring. He had to give Andrew credit for that. But despite the mirthful moment, there was still something that nagged him in the back of his mind. So far things were not going well for Andrew down at the precinct. The family of the man he killed wanted blood and they were desperate for it. He could have no contact with them because they would taint the case but they have been calling almost none stop the department head. They wanted both Jorge and Andrew.

Of course they could not touch the detective. He was the one with the recorded strange marks on his throat and that corroborated both Jorge and Andrew’s views on what had happened. Jorge was a victim and the thug was the attacker. The family would have to make peace with that. But Andrew…they knew they could attack Andrew with everything their ill gotten lawyer could think up. Jorge did his best to keep the kid out of their radar…but he was a failing fast.

Quickly the detective shook those thoughts away as he returned to looking at Andrew and Verdy. Both did seem like they were acting a little more than friends but he had to wonder why they both seemed a little…tense…as well. With an arched brow he dismissed the vision and returned to the task at hand…boxing.

>> "Shall we get to it?"

“That much a glutton for punishment, eh?” he chuckled as he nudged Andrew with his bag. “Come on you two.”

He nodded towards an empty, back part of the gym that held a punching bag, bench and some other equipment they would make use of. As he set his bag down, he fished around for his two focus mitts and finally pulled the pair of them out. Before he slipped them on he nodded towards Andrew.

“Andrew, start on the punching bag.” he said before he turned to the girl. “Now you, show me your best punch. Just hit the air like it was going to steal your wallet. I need to see what I’m working with here.”

Andrew’s move to include Jorge in the joke kisses surprised her, but she recognised its cleverness. It implied and reinforced the “just friends” deal they had going on, for if the victory kisses and/or spontaneous protective squeezes were available to Jorge too they clearly weren’t serious. Why not share the love… and cooties… with their mutual friend as well as each other. The nonchalance of the offer to share was somewhat negated by Andrew’s checking that it was alright by her and re-raised all the questions about what they were to each other.

“Doesn’t bother me.”

The lie was carried off with perfect sincerity, for it was only a half lie, a confused and mixed-messaged lie based purely on the confused and mixed messages the rest of her was receiving. Half of her didn’t care who Andrew was lip romping with, the other half wished to shove him into a shoebox under her bed and guard him possessively. The sane, and socially acceptable, thing to do in a situation such as this was simply to wait it out, act naturally neutral and figure things out bit by bit. His murderous confession was a start, boxing together the next step. Plus it gave her the opportunity to biff him for all the muddled signals. It was only fair.

Taking her cue from the two men she moved with them to the area which seemed set out for boxing. She was silently grateful for the row of weights machines which blocked the two treadmillers from view. While they had come here to box getting into a brawl over nothing more than harmless wandering eyes seemed both uncivilised and pointless, serving only to get them thrown out.

As Jorge rummaged in his gym bag she drew out her own pair of gloves. They still had that strange smell like the inside of new shoes and were a little stiff, despite her efforts to break them in a little by pummelling a pillow. Wrangling the Velcro wrist straps into place with her teeth she looked up and nodded at the instruction. A punch to deal with an unknown force.

Despite her research in the library she was certain her form, posture and technique were all off, but the power was there. Any and all scraps on the street were dirty, throw in as much pain as possible then get out, if Jorge had asked for a quick nuetralisation demo there would have been a lot more kneeing in the groin and a lot less attempted follow through with the rest of the body. The books and the internet had both indicated that punches were supposed to come from the feet. How, she wasn’t certain, but the intent was there.

Andrew took his time strapping on his gloves and what not. After all, Jorge was busy testing Verdy so he had plenty of time. He watched the two of them as Verdy gave it her best. Then he got up and headed over to the bag. He would be warming up over here while Jorge worked with Verdy. At least that's what Andrew assumed. He kept his punches controlled as much as possible as he worked the bag. No need to get carried away and wear himself down. Chances were good that he'd be facing one or both of them in the ring. It wouldn't due to get tired before he really even got started.

Not to mention getting carried away would end up showcasing his problems for Verdy. Andrew was fine with Jorge seeing him when he was enraged like he had been that first time they'd practiced. Verdy not so much. So he kept himself in check while he threw his punches and glanced over at the other two every now and again to see what they were doing.

As Jorge stood back and watched the young woman, he nodded as he realized she must have either had some light practice before or simply read a book about boxing. Her posture was good, she had the right focus in her eyes…then there was the wind up and finally…the PUNCH! He watched as he tiny fist shot out and struck at the air. He raised a brow as he looked down to her and nodded his head. So she must have had to have been in a fight or two before. She had to power…but it was raw. It needed a refining. Maybe she had just as much turmoil inside her gut as Andrew did.

That thought scared him a little but he still smiled encouragingly at her.

“Good Verdigris. Very good.” He stepped back as he nodded to her. “Warm up and keep hitting those invisible foes. Last thing you need is a cramp.” He paused before he left and turned back to her, as if anticipating her next question. “You keep doing that until I tell you to stop.” He smiled in a friendly, drill instructor type of way.

He made his way over to Andrew as he slipped on his focus gloves. The flat faced gloves were used for boxers to train their punches to hit a target. The red material glared under the light as he made his way over to Andrew and saw him taking it easier on the punching bag in a way he had not seen since his first day. It was obvious that Andrew was trying not to unleash as much as he done when it is just himself and the kid. Jorge was not sure why Andrew was doing this but he had an instinct it had something to do with the girl.

The detective could only nod a little understandingly as he stood next to Andrew and watched him box the punching bag. Casually he reached out and adjusted Andrew’s arms to a better positioning and fixed his stance a little. The kid was doing good practicing on his own that Jorge could see him as a pretty good rival now. He really was only nit-picking now about Andrew’s pose but it was all the help him out in the end.

“You’re getting stronger. Before you know it, you might even be able to take me in the ring.” he winked at Andrew as he glanced over at Verdigris. He still had an inkling that there was something going on there but he was not going to question it. Not right now. “How you doing?” the question seemed so general but Jorge knew that Andrew knew what he was talking about. The murder was still fresh in their minds and the ramifications were coming fast. He hoped that the kid was handling well.

There was a name for what she was doing, and she was relatively sure it was ‘shadow boxing’. She was to warm up, she could feel the muscles moving and gaining mobility. It wouldn’t do to overstretch them on the first outing and hurt herself. His instruction to keep going until he told her to stop was acknowledged by a nod and she continued punching into the air steadily, who knew how long she might be standing there soft knees, soft elbows and what activity might follow it.

Jab, cross. Reset. Jab, cross. Reset.

The rhythm was easy to follow once she got into the swing of it and it was somewhat like meditating with Hunter. Her focus was on her breathing, the movement of energy and power from heel to knuckles. The weight of the gloves was enough to keep the muscles in her arms working to keep them up as well as punching forward and snapping back to protect her face from invisible blows.

The elevated heart rate was barely acknowledged, it drew her focus for a millisecond, then once again she was back into her rhythm. One of the books had said that for the most effective punch you had to punch through the opponent, not to be satisfied with the connection of fist on face but to aim for the back of the head for the most effective throwback power. That was one of the shadier books, aimed more towards self defence on the streets mingled with street fighting and proper techniques. For whatever the reason, possibly linked to the fear she had felt when she read that the best way to beat an opponent was to have a more drastic mental image preceding the fight, it had stuck in her brain, and the power of each punch was directed through the imaginary opponents.

Jorge and Andrew’s interaction went on unnoticed as she focused on her rhythm and power. She might have looked up if the roof of the building had suddenly been ripped off, or the power sizzle out. Short of that she was into her zone, she had been practicing getting into it after her visit to Hunter, she didn’t expect to be able to slip into it so easily and from such a violent exercise, but the unexpectedness was key in achieving the zone at all.

Jab, cross. Reset.

The rhythm continued.

Andrew was fairly well into his routine when Jorge wandered over. The man corrected his form in a few places but they were minor corrections at best. They were down to fine tuning by now and Andrew was glad of that. A few moments later Jorge complimented him and then asked how he was doing. There were any number of things he could mean but Andrew could easily guess what Jorge was referring to. He glanced around them to make sure no one but Verdy could possibly overhear.

"I'm managing I guess. I still can't shake it of course but it's gotten better."

Andrew was actually sleeping now, instead of going days at a time without sleep. Stress would still make it bad enough to turn him into an insomniac for a night. He threw a few more punches, still well controlled. He wasn't going to let himself break like that in front of Verdy. He'd already ended up telling Verdy about the shooting. An exhausted mind had worked against him that night to be sure. Andrew nodded in Verdy's direction.

"She knows about the shooting, by the way. Just in case you wanna talk about it while she's around."

Thinking about it, only four people knew about the shooting. One of those hadn't been Andrew's decision at all but Andrew couldn't fault Jorge for it now. Sure he'd been angry right after the thing had happened but Gemma did deserve to know who had saved Jorge's life after all. Part of him wanted to go and have a long talk with the woman. The other part feared what she'd say too much to let it happen. Still, his punches flowed evenly.

>> "I'm managing I guess. I still can't shake it of course but it's gotten better…She knows about the shooting, by the way. Just in case you wanna talk about it while she's around."

Jorge nodded as he stood back and simply watched Andrew as he punched the heavy bag with restrained force. It was enough that the detective knew that even restrained, he was doing some damage. If that had been a person standing there he feared what that person’s chances would have been to remain conscious. With a nod he patted Andrew on the shoulder and let him continue his own routine against the dummy.

He was not surprised that the kid admitted to having trouble sleeping after the incident. Andrew seemed like a good kid so killing someone would more than likely haunt his mind. Part of the detective did feel personally responsible for his part in the whole thing. He did not want to keep blaming himself, after all, there was nothing that could have really prepared them or told them they would be mugged that night. Still though, he feared for Andrew’s safety in all this. The family of that thug wanted him behind bars for killing their “baby”. But Andrew killed the man in self-defense of another. It would not be fair. But it anyone knew that life rarely was fair, it was him. He only prayed that Andrew would be able to handle this now that motions were finally being made against him.

But, upon hearing that he finally told someone on his own, especially that girl, Jorge felt a little relieved. Which was ironic considering that he was not the one who killed someone. At least with this knowledge he felt better knowing that the kid had people to turn to.

He patted Andrew hard on the shoulder. “Keep it up, kid.” he smiled as he then made his way over to Verdigris who was shadowboxing like a pro. He nodded as he tightened his focus gloves and stepped in front of her. When he got her attention he held up his gloved, very patted hands with the targets on them. “Okay, you have good form, you’re following through, punching with your whole body, you’re good.” he grinned as he held the hands up for her to aim not. “Now let’s see how much strength you have in those fists of fury you got there. Aim for the gloves…not my face please.”

Jab, cross. Reset. Ja-

Her rhythm was disrupted by the return of Jorge’s attention to herself. He pulled some flat, red gloves on and told her what she was so far doing right, finishing with a compliment. She used that time to take a few deep breaths with her gloved hands atop her head, to ease the flow of air through her body. The elevated heart rate was a good change from the lethargica she had been slowly allowing to take hold.

Even with her now regular walks with Jack the mansion’s constant supply of food and limited need to particularly exert oneself had encouraged her to slip somewhat into laziness, with much of her streetie leanness and make-do attitude ebbing away. It was weak and not at all what she wanted. Boxing was the first step to combat it, that and the big book of logic puzzles she had bought to stimulate her mind as well as her body.

Glancing between the flat pads and the grizzly face she smiled at him and half rolled her eyes. While joking and gentle teasing seemed to flow easily between the man and her younger male friend she wasn’t certain about joining in. This was a moment between herself and the detective, and there was no call to fear stepping on someone’s toes or intruding on an ‘in’ joke.

“I may be a little less cluey than your average graduate, but I’m not to the point of total foolishness yet. I like my head firmly on my shoulders.”

She smirked for a second before resetting. Punching against a physical target, rather than the air, was much more draining, she was certain, and it wouldn’t do to start off on a bad angle. Punching through a physical target was a lot harder to visualise also, making her punches somewhat less effective than her shadow boxing. It was reassuring, though, to have a target, to feel the resistance of a solid object with just the right amount of give and to hear the smack of leather on leather as the punches connected, albeit less firmly than she would have liked but a fair effort all the same.

Her focus was once again directed away from her surroundings, and she was unsure (so much so that she was totally oblivious to even the unsureness) as to what her young male friend was doing, or how he was handling her female intrusion onto what was most likely his male bonding. Had she been thinking about it, she might have felt guilty. As it was all she felt were the connections between the gloves and the pads, that and the trickle of sweat which tickled its way between her shoulder blades.

A moment of quiet stretched on after Andrew's admissions to Jorge. Then a pat on his shoulder and a keep it up as Jorge went to see to Verdy. Andrew locked down the part of him that was stressed and afraid even further until his punches were solid enough to move the bag but would have done minimal damage were he facing a human opponent. This was practice, not a fight or time to let off steam. Even more important than his own progress was that this was Verdy's first practice with Jorge. Most of the focus today would, rightly, be on her.

A few more punches and Andrew decided to take a brief break while Jorge and Verdy worked out the kinks in her technique. Andrew went over to the bench where he'd left his bag and retrieved a bottle of water. The bottle was quickly wrenched open and Andrew took a swallow of the contents while he watched Verdy and Jorge. For someone who'd just started today she was pretty good. Jorge acknowledged that as well. Another swallow of water and Andrew returned to the bag and his own exercises.

Strike after strike impacted on the bag as Andrew got back to work. While Jorge and Verdy did their thing Andrew worked on controlling the amount of force he put behind his punches. Being able to throw a hard punch was nice but you couldn't do that all the time or you'd tire yourself out way too easy. What Andrew thought he lacked was a middle ground. Something between the light jab meant to distract and using all of his strength. So Andrew worked at that, throwing punches of varying force and gauging the strength by the reaction of the bag.

Thwap! Thump! Fump!

“Good, keep at it!” Jorge stood in spot as he kept his gloved, open hands pointed directly at Verdigris.

Her boxing was good. She had a good positioning and her punches had hard and fast against his focus gloves. He had to tense up his legs to keep from stumbling backward after a few of her punches. Every once and awhile he mixed it up as he switched the positioning of his gloves. This went on for a bit as he kept her focused on hitting his gloves until finally he just chuckled and stepped back, out of position. He nodded to her and gave her the signal to get a small breather as he slipped the gloves off of his own hands. His palms were bright and red.

“You got a good jab, Verdigris. I’m going to feel this in the morning,” he chuckled as he flexed his fingers. “But you can be a little stronger so let’s get you working on the heavy bag,” he said as he lead Verdy over to the bag that Andrew was working on.

“Yo, Cervantes!!” a voice shouted out from towards the front of the room.

The detective looked up and saw one of the managers of the establishment calling him over. With a nod he waved to the man before he turned back to Andrew and Verdy. “You two take it easy. I’ll be right back.”

Grabbing a towel from his bag, Jorge threw it around his shoulders as he walked across the room. Jorge looked every bit like a boxing coach as he walked with the focus gloves in his hand and the towel wrapped around his sweat soaked shoulders. It was true he had the experience for this, though short of a few training days for community children back in Miami, Jorge had never trained anyone personally. But, from his days, he knew what to look out for, what were the correct positions, stances, punches, etc. He knew the rules, as well as how to adapt the fighting for certain street encounters. He saw that worked with Andrew back on that fateful night.

Jorge was pulled from his musings as he walked over to the manager of the gym. He was a short man with closely cropped red hair and a complexion so pale that Jorge was sure that man covered himself in white-out before he came to work since no normal human could have skin that color. The freckle faced man rose a brow as he nodded to the Andrew and Verdigris on the other side of the room.

“Teaching classes, Cervantes?”

Jorge just gave him a sidelong grin as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You wanted something, Terry?”

“Yeah, I need you to sign a few things if you want to keep teaching these kids for free.” The redhead said as he handed Jorge a clipboard and a pen. “Still can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“What can I say, it’s good public image fo-“ he stopped when he saw a grin on Terry’s face as he looked past the detective. “What’s up?”

Jorge turned and immediately sighed. One of the other, more seasonably trained boxers was heading directly for Andrew, but his eyes were drilling into Verdigris. The man was known as a player and someone who attempted to get into the boxing shorts of every pretty young lady who walked into the gym to train. The man was tall, not taller than Andrew, but a pretty decent height with a body that showed that training was his life. His dark skin, closely cut brown hair and broken nose reminded the detective of a young Sylvester Stallone. Jorge sighed as he glanced back to Terry who was only grinning.

***

Rochester Vinci grinned wide as he watched the young woman training with the old man detective the whole time they were working out. His eyes had roamed all over every single curve he could see to the point that just by staring at her, he almost knew her body as well as she did. It was calculating, passion driven, but overall, it was just plain creepy. The man was known to be a wolf and right now, as he leaned against the wall, massive arms crossed over his chest he did not seem to mind the tall youth with the funny color hair that stayed next to her. He could easily be dealt with. It was the old cop he did not want a confrontation with.

So he waited…and waited…and waited until he watched the detective head off to talk with the manager. A grin on his face and Rochester made his move as he headed over. Once he was close enough, he grinned wide, flashing his pearly whites as he stepped into the scene and ignored whatever the tall boy had said.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” he said with a grin as he stood near her. “Looks like you’re working up quite the sweat. What’s a sweet lil girl like you doing here?”