Throwing the punches themselves wasn’t particularly difficult, but maintaining the speed and power was exhausting. His pressing encouragement kept her focused, but the final two or three sets were weaker and gave a less-than-satisfactory thud as they connected. When Jorge stepped back she took a shudderingly deep breath and let out a relieved sigh, nodding briefly in acknowledgement of the compliment. It was tough work to keep going for more than a swing or two.

Jorge led her to where Andrew had been thumping away in the background the entire time, but left no real instruction before he was called away by a short redhead who seemed to be bordering luminescent. Perhaps he was a mutant Jorge had worked on during a case, perhaps not. Either way the detective made his way over, leaving Andrew and herself to share the ‘heavy’ bag.

“Two for you, two for me?”

Having to move back and forth so that there was alternation between who was punching the bag gave a split second for it to stop swinging with such force, and included the muscles in their legs in the workout session. It also made sharing the bag a lot less complicated than trying to both punch at the same time.

When it was her turn to punch she swung confidently, connected firmly and paid for her lack of caution with a sharp stinging in her knuckles and the knowledge that she looked a right tool as the bag shifted slightly, nothing like the swinging motion Andrew made when he punched. The flush on her face was only partly to do with the exertion of boxing, and when her turn came again she breathed deeply and punched more carefully, using her own weight against the bag’s bulk, letting her elbows take the impact rather than her fingers. It was a lot harder and she could feel her muscles screaming from the exertion, but it hurt her fingers far less than the punches she had been throwing.

The movement back and forth in front of the bag loosened the drawstring on her pants and she paused to hitch them up as someone approached them. Andrew catching a flash of the waistband of her knickers was one thing, a total stranger seeing them was something totally different. No matter how sensible the underwear (and she had chosen by far the most sensible she owned) it wasn’t the kind of first impression she wanted to give off. The big, almost connected thumb of the glove made it tricky, but she managed to pull her pants up to a comfortably decent height.

Her eyes met those of the man who looked like he had used his face as a focus pad more than once, and he gave her a smile. She was surprised to see all his teeth intact, he stood like he was constantly on the balls of his feet, ready to swing into a fight. The smile would have been friendly if it wasn’t so lecherous. She felt as if the loose shirt, clinging to her sweaty body, and her pants, determined to be trouble, had suddenly dissolved and she was standing starkers in the middle of the gym. Her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger as he spoke to her.

All that streetie know-how said let it slide, walk away casually and not cause a fuss. All that streetie know-how would have dissolved the situation. All that streetie know-how had been growing less prominent in her mind with the safety of the mansion. Her words were careless, rash. Aimed at the ego with no thought for the preservation of self. A tilt of the head and a disarming look.

“A sweet little girl like me is learning how to wallop oafs like you when they stick their crooked noses into other people’s business.”

Grin at that, muscles.

Her irritable, snippy reply might have had something to do with the fact that she was hot and bothered and had been exerting herself for far longer than she had grown accustomed to, or perhaps the fact that she was sorely outnumbered in the male-populated gym, but today she was having none of it. She was wearing decent clothing, doing decent things, and did not need the aggravation of the local sleeze. Besides, Jorge was only just over there, and a flash of the badge no doubt somewhere in his gym bag was sure to scare the man off if he tried anything.

Jorge disappeared to talk to someone that had shouted for him and left him and Verdy to the heavy bag. Andrew was quite ready to stand back and let Verdy have full use but she was fine with sharing so share they would. It was awkward at first but Andrew quickly became used to the arrangement. Two punches from him, then two from Verdy, lather, rinse, repeat. It was all going fairly well until yet another piece of walking refuse decided to hit on Verdy. Andrew really had no place getting angry about it. He did anyway.

Andrew could feel himself glaring at the fool that was interrupting their training. Was this gym full of guys like him? After that annoyance when he'd walked in and now this...

He was just about ready to tell the man to beat it when Verdy did it herself. His glare turned into a smirk. Again, it was technically Verdy's problem but she was his friend. It gave him some small amount of vindictive joy to hear her tell him to get lost. After that Andrew didn't need to say anything at all. He wanted to though. He wanted to gloat something fierce. He settled for smirking and walloping the heavy bag a few more times. The punches were a bit stronger than he'd intended but that didn't bother Andrew in the slightest at the moment.

If the guy kept at it after being told no, then Andrew would interfere. After all, right now this was Verdy's problem. He was her friend but it wasn't as though he could dictate who she could and couldn't date. He'd relinquished any claim he might have had on that previously. However if he continued to pester her after she'd turned him down then he was well within his friend rights to tell him in no uncertain terms to clear out.

Rochester grinned as he awaited an answer to his question. It was simply an ice breaker but it was enough to get her attention. After all, the second she turned around and saw him she would be smitten that that would be the end of all necessary talking. He had experienced the situation enough times to know that what would come next would the batting of eyelashes, the nibbling of a lower lip and the honor of knowing that she was being hit on by him. It was the geyser’s at Yellowstone park…predictable.

At least that was what was thinking and grinning about until she turned around and glared at him.

>> “A sweet little girl like me is learning how to wallop oafs like you when they stick their crooked noses into other people’s business.”

This was a joke right? Rochester’s face still grinned but soon that faltered to confusion and finally the slow understanding of mind that just recently accepted that he was rejected. With a raised brow and sneer he shook his head as he stepped back a bit but still did not step away from his latest conquest. Instead he would grant her the opportunity of another chance as he instead decided to simply chuckle off her comment. It was obvious that the girl had simply sweated off some of her common sense.

“Haha, you’re funny baby,” he said with a grin as he stepped closer again. He saw the shooting look of the other boy there, but he didn’t bother to give him more than the quickest of glances. If the “boyfriend” there tried anything, he was sure he could take him. “Listen, sugar, why don’t you let me offer you some…personal instruction?”

He was pressing far to close and another second and he would be definitely be entering dangerous territory. But that quickly ended with a well placed clap on the shoulder.

***

“Officer Vinci!” Jorge announced as he placed his had a little roughly on his shoulder. “Something I can do for you? How is the Meter Maid duty going?”

Rochester seemed to freeze up the second he heard Jorge’s voice and though his face faltered for a second, he quickly regained his composure as he turned around and faced the older detective. He seemed to be trying to regain his original attitude and mentality when the detective walked in on him. His posture seemed a little awkward now, a little more humbly, but slowly he relaxed as he looked the detective over, almost as if appraising him if a fight would be won here.

Jorge knew he hit him hard with the Meter Maid duty comment, especially in front of the fairer gender like Verdigris. If there was one that Rochester hated was to have his carefully structured exterior persona to be pierced. He played up the part of the badass cop down in the trenches every day, but he was a meter maid. Jorge knew that, and Vinci did not like to let that fact get out.

“Hello Detective. Nothing going on…just...offering this young lady a chance to correct her posture.”

Jorge rose a brow as he glanced between Verdigris and Andrew. He never liked Rochester, the way he’d seen him strut around the precinct and the way he never watched what he said. He had a thing or two to learn about what it was like to be a decent human being, but he doubted the man would even bother to take the appropriate notes. Still though…that did not give him the right to harass either of his students/friends when they were doing nothing other than train.

“Her posture is fine, Vinci.” Jorge said matter of factly and glared back into the man’s eyes. Rochester was taller than Jorge, but the detective did not pause in the least at that notion. “I suggest you leave these two alone and under my instruction before I use you as an example they don’t need to see.”

Rochester glared, mouth open for a second as if he were about to say something. Then, his instincts seemed to finally kick in as he closed his mouth and turned to go, but not before giving Verdigris another grin. “If you hang around, I can give you my number.” He chuckled and then nodded to Andrew. “That way you don’t have to be surrounded by wusses all day.”

As the man moved past Andrew, Jorge turned a concerned look onto Verdy. He knew she could take care of herself, but the older, fatherly type in him was concerned anyways. "You okay?"

Grinning seemed to be this man’s speciality, and she supposed if she weren’t quite so tense, or if she was alone or with a girlfriend rather than Andrew, perhaps his pearly whites might have produced a reaction that wasn’t the blunt ‘go-to-hell-I’m-not-interested’ type. His reaction to her bluntness took a moment or two, but the sneer proved her suspicion of an alright face hiding a creepy personality. She could feel Andrew’s eyes drilling either into herself or the man who was standing in front of her, taking a step back as if steading himself from an unexpected punch. The lingering feeling of being watched made her feel a little better, she wasn’t alone in this.

The return of the grin and his use of the affectionate term as he stepped over the invisible line into her personal space with a flick of the eyes at Andrew, as if daring him to protest or make a move to stop him, irritated her. While it was true that Andrew really had no place to say anything for a moment she was unsure why the man in front of them wouldn’t back off, when she was clearly here with him. Perhaps he would have continued no matter what the relationship between them had been. He seemed the type. The male equivalent of ‘homewrecker’.

Why wouldn’t she accept his personal instruction? Well; one, she was quite happy with Jorge’s instruction and two, she was far too busy calculating how much further he could step forward before she could reasonably kick him in the place where it would hurt the most. True it was an unethical move, but if he was as used to fighting as his cocky manner suggested she was fairly sure that one of her punches, greatly weakened by the effort she had used today, would do nothing but amuse or aggravate him.

Thankfully as he took the final step into her range and she stiffened, ready to unleash the kick of pain a hand fell on the young man’s shoulder, halting her calculated kick before her foot even left the floor. It was Jorge, and the badge wasn’t even required to make the man hesitate. He seemed to recognise the grizzled detective as higher up on the ranking, as he deferred to him and backed off a little. Just enough so Verdy could breathe again.

Jorge’s use of ‘officer’ startled her, the young man didn’t seem to have the air of an officer. The clarification of parking inspector explained it, all the power trip of a real officer without the danger or elevated IQ. With the young man’s back turned to her she felt safe enough to smirk at the older enforcer of the law. Officer Vinci’s comment on correcting her posture made her bristle, but at least he called her by something that didn’t assume a nonexistent familiarity.

Jorge’s defence of her posture made her ears pinken a little, but the warning that followed held back any smirk which might have graced her features. Worry clouded her mind for a moment, while she was sure the older detective could take care of himself it seemed a little foolish to challenge the younger and most likely hot-headed man. The tense moment after the threat made her sweat worse than the boxing but thankfully he seemed to realise he was out of his depth and walk away, not without a parting shot and Andrew and an offer for herself. She swallowed all the bitterness and snarky comments possible to retaliate with, including ribbings about the fact that it wasn’t Andy walking away from a fight, and opted instead for a sickly-sweet smile.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

Jorge’s concern and Andrew’s defensive glare made her smile weakly, she knew how to pick her friends, she hadn’t even asked and yet both were ready to protect her from the moves of the smooth-talking creeper. She took a deep breath and let it go, stuff like that happens all the time, to people all over the city and probably the world. Still, she had forgotten and the unexpectedness had shaken her a little. Never had she felt more like comfort icecream, something that until this moment she had been certain was a myth.

“Yeah I’m alright, a little ruffled, but I guess it’s more a compliment than anything else.”

Accepting it as a compliment was difficult, but that was what it meant and just because the man’s intentions weren’t pure didn’t mean it couldn’t be taken as something more pleasant. Her innocence in giving him any signals only furthered her assurance that there was nothing she could have done to improve the situation. Skimpy gym crop-top and shorty-shorts might have prompted advances from the inhabitants of the gym, but her loose, long legged attire was a little less revealing than what she would have worn were she attention seeking, however, apparently the limited female presence in this gym marked her as a target for roaming eyes with two incidents in the one trip. Since nothing had really happened, except for Andrew semi-staking a claim in her defence, it was not really an issue that needed to be addressed. There was nothing she could do about it anyway, the change of clothes she had brought weren’t any less revealing than the ones she wore (and it was possible that the second shirt had a dipped neckline rather than the frumpy straight one she was wearing) and the lack of sweat could start again the ribbing. At least when she was covered in sweat it was implicit that she had already been working out for some time, and less tolerant of the average testosterone-fuelled advances.

Jorge's voice rang out just in time. Andrew was surprised to hear that the creep was a cop until he heard exactly what the man did. Meter maid duty. Andrew smirked widely at the fool. He couldn't be bothered to do real work so he took the crappy duty in exchange for the badge and bragging ability with none of the danger. Jorge sent the man and his disgusting antics packing. The rat felt like he needed a parting shot though and called himself and Jorge wusses. Andrew just rolled his eyes. Not like he hadn't heard that one before. If he was going to give a parting shot he really needed to get more creative than that.

Verdy handled herself well. There were no snarky comments from her. She responded to his offer with a simple no thanks. That was good to see. He wouldn't want the man to turn violent and try to hurt her for turning him down. Andrew wouldn't put it past him. Over all the entire encounter hadn't annoyed him that badly. He was dealing with it fairly well, stowing away his anger at the whole thing to deal with later. What ruined that was Verdy's comment on how she was fairing in response to Jorge.

That was a compliment?! It was a gesture of lewdness from a jerk! How could she take something like that as a compliment? How?! He was more angry about that than he had been about Vinci's behavior. There were jerks out there and sometime you had to deal with them. That was something Andrew could understand and internalize the anger from for dealing with later. This on the other hand had him tensed up as he tried not to show how much it had affected him.

>> “Yeah I’m alright, a little ruffled, but I guess it’s more a compliment than anything else.”

Jorge smirked at her comment but said nothing in response. Instead his eyes drifted to Andrew and he saw his look of indignation at Verdigris’ comment. He was sure that the young woman was merely trying to find some minuscule bright side to the situation, but it apparently became a barb for Andrew. For someone that was just supposed to be a friend, he was awful defensive for Verdigris. Then again, he really was too nice of a kid, maybe he was simply shocked that such a lewd gesture could have been taken as a compliment in the first place. Either way, Jorge would saw nothing and merely turned back to the training at hand. They still had a lot to do before their time was up today. After all…neither of them looked exhausted yet.

Can’t have that…can we? he joked to himself as he stepped back.

So far they were both doing extremely well. Verdigris had a good form and she could punch pretty fast, but she needed some work on her strength and footwork. Before long she could scarcely need any further instruction. He did not know what her background was, but whatever it was, she definitely would be able to handle herself. These lessons would only serve as a focus to hone her skills. Not bad for a first lesson.

Andrew on the other hand, was doing extremely well, to the point that Jorge would be scared to get into the ring with him. Not really, but it was a nice thoughtful compliment in his head. To be honest, Andrew was taking to this like a fish in water. His punches were getting quicker, he had the strength behind them, and he needed little, if any, posture fixing as far was Jorge was concerned.

He slowly took a few steps back and looked them over carefully as Andrew and Verdigris continued their back and forth on the heavy bag. They worked good as a team and he could smirk and nod his head at their innovativeness in this workout. He did not even need to tell them what to do! But as he watched them, he kept looking over and spied that Officer Vinci was indeed still watching Verdigris and shooting Jorge a look that could only mean that a sound thrashing was going to soon be following. The man seemed absolutely seething that Jorge was able to call him out on his big talk and embarrassed him in front of the lady. To the man, more than likely he was thinking that he was so close to getting Verdigris to go with him, but that Jorge himself had interrupted too soon. Now all the blame was going to be put on him.

3…2…1… Jorge counted down to himself before he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye.

He could almost see the steam bursting out of the Vinci’s red ears as he angrily grabbed his towel and began to make his way over to them again. Jorge lowered and shook his head…a challenge was going to be issued…

The ‘wusses’ comment seemed to have rankled Andrew more than she expected it to, his punches were tense and his face held an expression she wasn’t quite sure where to place on the emotion scale. As much as it confused her, she tried to shrug it off and get back into the zone; two punches, then duck back, then two, then back. The bag wasn’t swinging as much from Andrew’s punches as it had been and she wondered if he was holding back so that if the sleezy officer returned, new insults in tow, he could be dealt with.

For a second she considered pulling her own punches, to leave some reserve if he approached, but logic insisted that even if it had have been the very first moment that she walked into the gym she wouldn’t have had enough power to deal with the young man should he cause trouble. Her fists would serve only to annoy, or get in the way. Besides which he probably could have flattened her without trying. She glanced at Jorge but he seemed distracted, and not like he was going to tell them to stop anytime soon. She could feel her heart thudding against her ribcage without pausing to check now, and her breaths seemed as if she was sucking fire into her lungs instead of the stuffy smell of her own sweat and the warm leather of gloves and bags.

She didn’t see the irritable young man’s movement, her back was turned, but Jorge’s movement caught her eye as he lowered his head and she turned her eyes towards him. For a moment she was concerned by his shaking head, had she done something wrong? She was tired, and her punches weren’t connecting satisfactorily anymore, but Jorge’s eyes were not on her.

Pausing to wipe her sweaty forehead with the back of her glove she turned to see the return of one meter maid. Perhaps he had thought of another cutting remark to direct towards Jorge and Andrew, or perhaps he thought despite her insistence he still had a chance. She didn’t like the look on his face and a frown clouded her own as she sighed, a mean feat seeing as her lungs wanted to continue sucking in air ferociously, not huff it out in an expression of displeasure.

Was he stupid? Or just the type that refused to take a rejection? Either way he didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon even with his towel flung around his anger-bulging neck.

They settled back into their routine on the heavy bag. Andrew held back his punches. He was angry and if he let loose he wouldn't be able to stop. So he kept himself restrained as he punched the bag and focused his attentions elsewhere. Namely, on Vinci. It almost seemed like he might simply be able to have a quiet boxing session with Jorge and Verdy. However that just couldn't be. Vinci apparently wasn't satisfied with the way things had gone down. Did he really think Verdy would find a braggart like him attractive? If she did Andrew would probably lose all respect for her. The pest had some attractive features but they were spoiled by his attitude.

In either case if the man approached again Andrew wouldn't feel guilty at all if he had to attack the man. Realistically he probably couldn't handle him but this was more important than that minor detail. Andrew was angry and a jerk like him would make a wonderful outlet for that anger. Not to mention that he'd as good as insulted Verdy by assuming she'd be interested in him. That alone was enough to make Andrew want to turn his face into a jigsaw puzzle.

As such, when Vinci made his way toward them again with hate in his eyes Andrew abandoned all pretense of practice and moved over to stand between him and Verdy.

Rochester Vinci was fuming as he stormed his way all the way back towards the trio of boxers. Jorge eyed the man and inwardly shook his head. He knew looks like that. Vinci was a man who would never let this failure or embarrassment drop. In his eyes, his ego was pierced and it was something so important to him that he simply would not stand down and let it be attacked without any sort of retort. In his eyes, Jorge saw a fire that could not be quenched and in the veins that popped out of his neck and forehead, a seething that would not boil over and by laughed off later. No, to Vinci, as Jorge saw it, the man was going to go far and beyond to make their lives a living hell now that he has been ousted.

Like a runaway freight train, Jorge watched the man approach, eyes steely, fists clenched, nose snorting smoke, but before he could say anything, Andrew stood defiantly between them. For a second the detective simply watched as the much taller Andrew stared at the oncoming Vinci, who only smirked in response to the sight. He did not want this to get ugly but judging from Vinci, it was going to get there, no matter what.

The meter maid snorted like a enraged bull as he stood in front of Andrew and glared straight into his eyes.

“You might wanna back off before I punch your teeth into the back of your throat.” He said as he stepped to the side to glare at Jorge. “Listen here, old man! You have a big mouth begging to be wired shut.”

Jorge, used to these types to masculine displays, sighed and shook his head as he walked over, hands on his hips and glared back at Vinci. “Officer, not only are you embarrassing yourself, but your embarrassing the NYPD. I suggest you back off, right now, because you cause any more harm to yourself.”

Rochester cursed in rather colorful language before he took a step back and shot daggers at both Jorge and Andrew with his eyes. The detective stood next to his boxing trainee, almost creating a wall-like pose between Vinci and Verdigris. Not that Verdy was really the center of this argument anymore. It had descended into something far more primordial and base…masculine pride. When one has his taken away, the only option he has left is to quickly try to regain some of that dignity by picking a fight.

He paused as he stormed back and forth in front of Jorge and Andrew. “What’s wrong, Detective? Afraid you’d age is going to catch up with you?”

Jorge smirked at this comment and gave a sidelong glance to Andrew. The kid had fire in his eyes today and looked beyond ready to take Vinci down. Normally Jorge always fought his own battles, but judging by the way that Andrew looked, maybe it would be appropriate to give the kid a real world chance to wallop someone without having to worry about being killed. It was just a boxing match after all, much better than some fist fight in the back of an alley. Clearing his throat he sighed as he turned back to Rochester.

“Trust me, Rochester, I’ve seen you box, I’ve got nothing to worry about, so I won’t waste my time, matter of fact, I doubt you’d be good enough for practice against my trainee here,” Jorge said as he patted Andrew hard on the shoulder. He then turned to look at Andrew. “What do you say, kid? Think you can take him?”

Two sets of shoulders, Jorge and Andrew’s, blocked her from the angry officer and she was effectively out of the circle of glares and insults. Grateful but a little worried she undid her gloves and slipped them off to hold them loosely in one hand. Something about the situation (or was that everything about the situation?) made her nervous, and she wanted her mutation to be available to her should it come down to that.

Apparently it wasn’t coming down to that but rather a match between Andrew and the snorting young man. If he accepted the challenge would he have enough energy left to beat Vinci? What would happen if he didn’t? Vinci didn’t seem like the type to just walk away from an opponent even if they were clearly beaten. Would she herself become a bartering chip? A trophy? If Andrew won would Vinci catch up with them some other time, possibly with others or a weapon of some sort?

Distracted from her concerning thoughts by Jorge pat-slapping Andrew’s shoulder she frowned but said nothing. It would be pointless to waste her breath; men in hotheaded rage would never listen to a woman’s scolding or demands of a cessation. Every movie she could think of agreed, there was no way anything she said could change the outcome, all she could do was hope that Jorge was right about the man’s boxing skill, that Andrew even after this long on the bag could beat him.

That or Andrew could always refuse the offer.

Somehow judging from the angry redness of his ears she doubted it.

Vinci came on like an enraged bull. There was no way to avoid this. Andrew knew the rational thing to do would be to ignore him. Problem was Andrew didn't want to ignore him. Vinci was looking a lot like a walking heavy bag to Andrew right about now. So when the man stopped in front of him an glared Andrew glared right back.

"I've got nothing to worry about over inflated windbag."

Insults weren't a usual part of Andrew's repertoire but in this case he was quite happy to make an exception. He'd insulted Verdy, at least that was the way Andrew saw it, an now Jorge. He was making a good run at being an insufferable moron. He managed to stay quiet while Jorge spoke to the man. Jorge's vote of confidence in him was a little unexpected but gratifying. Andrew flashed the old man a grin.

"If you don't mind me using your fellow officer as a punching bag then sure."

He was talking a much more confident game that he actually thought he could pull off. However anger, like drink and sleepiness, could make you do really stupid things. This was probably one of those things but if he ended up destroyed at least it would be a good measure of how far he had yet to go.

>> "If you don't mind me using your fellow officer as a punching bag then sure."

Jorge grinned as he shook his head to show that he did not mind at all. The whole conversation between them seemed to be so casual, as if they were discussing where to have lunch, rather than who was going to get to box this walking, pure testosterone factory. The scene must have looked comical to the bystanders and other gym patrons as they passed by or just outright watched the discussion as it happened. Rochester, the bulging mass of muscle that he was, seemed infuriated, red in face with veins throbbing under his skin, eager to get back some of the pride he had lost mere moments ago. Andrew on the other hand, also angry, did not appear to be as manic and uncontrollable. Jorge, the more experienced fighter, only looked as calm and cool as a river stream as he stood next to Andrew and gave him another pat on the back.

“Then it’s settled.” he said as he nodded to Rochester. “Care to lead the way to the ring?”

Rochester Vinci momentarily looked flabbergasted at the events that unfolded. He glared between the officer and his protégé and for the briefest of second, felt like he had bitten off more than he could chew. But an injured ego quickly brought him back to his usual mindset and he just growled in reply.

“I’m not going to fight some wuss like him! I could kill him.”

“Really? Sounds more like you’re trying to back out. You know that’s fine,” Jorge said honestly, arms crossed over his chest. “We all make mistakes Vinici, so if you want to walk away, right now, I suggest you listen to that miniscule little conscience you have, and back off. You started all this, not us. So…” Jorge paused as he as stared deeply at the man. “What do you say?”

Pride was an excellent motivator, but it also served as one of the worst bans when it came to making rational decisions. It would have been easy for Rochester to walk away. To just turn his back to them and walk away with as much pride as he could still muster. No one would think less of him and he would not risk losing face with the more frequent gym goers. But, unfortunately, that small, nagging voice that told him that he was better than this, snapped him back to reality, or his version of reality anyways. He would not back down.

Eyes aflame, nostrils flaring, he glared once more at Andrew before he nodded to the older detective.

“I’m fighting you the second I knock this punk on his butt! Come on!” he yelled as he stormed towards the ring, his own duffle bag already there. Along the way he practically ripped off his tank top, revealing his muscular, overly tanned body (one that was definitely waxed). Angrily he unzipped his bag and removed a pair of black boxing gloves with barbed wire printed (not real) all around it.

Jorge rose a brow as he began to lead Andrew over to the ring. “Okay kid, you know what to do when you get in there. You got the reach and you’re faster than before. Keep him at bay and just wear him down until you get a good opening. And most important, keep your left side protected. I’ve seen Vinci fight, he takes every dirty, cheap shot opening he can.” He patted Andrew encouragingly as he walked with him to the ring. For a brief second he waited for Verdigris to catch up before he turned to her with a smile. “In here thirty minutes and already causing a ruckus.” he said with a chuckle but it was good hearted sounded. “I’m only kidding. And I do apologize on behalf of the police force for Vinci’s behavior.”

And so the match would take place, the two males would go head to head in the ring. Well, at least it was staying in the gym to be dealt with, rather than festering in Vinci and manifesting later. Besides, Andrew looked like he wouldn’t mind having his own live punching bag for a while. She frowned and moved in behind them.

~“In here thirty minutes and already causing a ruckus.”

Verdy wasn’t sure if she should flush with shame or scoff at Jorge’s statement, especially since he had voiced her own worried thoughts. Although, she suspected the looming match was now a matter of pride, rather than a contest for her attention. It wasn’t the trigger’s fault when someone got hurt, but the bullet’s, or perhaps the hand that squeezed the trigger the wrong way.

In her uncertainty she frowned and the moment passed, morphing into Jorge’s claim of a joke and apology for the behaviour of his colleague. She glanced at him then back to the younger officer, itching to get into the ring and smack some sense into someone who really hadn’t been doing anything wrong. The two were as different as opposites could be and she tilted her head in acknowledgement.

“The same way mutants can’t all be painted with the same brush, neither can police officers. Or anyone, for that matter.”

She was worried for Andrew, could his anger, and therefore fists, match that of the outed parking inspector? Jorge seemed confident, Andrew angry and she herself felt… detached, as if nothing she could say or do could change the outcome of the events about to unfold. Wiping her palms on the legs of her pants she put her own gloves onto the floor and settled in to watch and see.

Andrew didn't have to say anything. Jorge was taking care of talking all the smack for him. That was a good thing because Andrew wanted to keep a civil tongue in his head at the moment. Mostly so that he didn't look like too much of a fool in front of Verdy. However there was also the point of possibly becoming too angry should Vinci say something worse than what he already had. Andrew was angry at the man. In fact that word probably wasn't strong enough. However losing your grip tended to make you make mistakes.

That was something Andrew was counting on in the fight between him and Vinci. Vinci was the tougher opponent. He was stronger and had more experience on his side. However Andrew was keeping himself well in control. If Vinci boxed like he acted then there wouldn't be much to worry about. All Andrew would have to do would be to keep out of reach and wear the man down. Then it would be a simple matter of picking him apart. Jorge had of course been saying almost exactly what Andrew was thinking. If nothing else he must have picked up something from the old man then. Andrew grinned at Jorge and then Verdy.

"Can do. I'll see to this blowhard and be back with you guys in a bit."

Just to play up the confidence, none of which he had, Andrew winked cheekily at his two friends before he climbed in the ring. Truth told, if Vinci fought smart, then Andrew figured he wouldn't stand much of a chance. That was why he hadn't said anything about winning before climbing in the ring. There was every chance that the egotistical braggart would knock the proverbial stuffing out of Andrew. Jorge had warned him about the man using cheap shots. That would only make this bout all the tougher. Andrew stared across the ring at his opponent and waited for the start of the match.

Jorge followed, along with Verdigris, as Andrew climbed into the ring. The detective stood back, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Verdy settle in just to watch the match. He had seen Vinci fight before so he tried to give Andrew all the best advice that he could. The officer was a notorious cheater so it would only be a matter of time before he cheated in this fight. He didn’t want Andrew to get hurt, but Jorge was confident that he taught the kid enough on how to fight a good fight. He would not had willing put Andrew into the situation if the kid were not ready to take care of himself. A prayer fell from Jorge’s lips as he hoped that he was not wrong and the kid would, in fact, be okay after this.

“Come on, kid! You got this!” Jorge shouted as Andrew climbed into the ring across from Vinci. The two seemed to be squaring off, sizing each other up before their bout actually began.

He had no idea to know what Vinci was thinking, but he was sure that the man was only intent on getting a scrap of his pride back. The fire behind his eyes told the detective that the man was not going to let up and even though they could have walked away from each other back at the punching bag, that would not have been the end of the situation…only the beginning. It was better to nip this in the bud right now and have it out in the ring.

A throng of people began to join around Jorge and Verdy as they all stared into the ring. Most of the people there were regulars so that had seen Jorge train Andrew since the first day and many of them also knew Vinci from too far back a time. Everyone there had a pretty good idea of each of the fighters abilities, and surprising nobody around them mumbled any kind of consensus. Some people voted for Vinci (though they didn’t like him) and other nodded in agreement that Andrew could win if he focused. It seemed like one of the battles of the century, the way everyone was gathered, but other than some slight mumbling, there was no betting or overt rooting. They were each quiet, everyone of them merely curious how this was going to turn out.

Vinci stepped forward, signaling that this was going to be the start of the fight. Immediately all talking ceased as Jorge, along with the rest of the boxers and more than likely Verdy breathlessly watched as they stepped up to each other.

The metermaid, though absolutely imposing, looked up at Andrew. The kid obviously had a height and reach factor that Jorge believed gave him the edge, but Vinci had some speed and a knack for exploiting weak spots. Jorge could only pray that the kid would be able to keep his sides guarded as Vinci seemed to make the first move.

Vinci danced around Andrew, impressive considering his height, as he kept his arms loose, taunting Andrew with everything he had. His black gloves with the barbed wire graphic etched on them hung down at his sides as he kept dancing around Andrew, not making any punches, but instead just fake lunges in over to throw Andrew off. His tan skins glistened with sweat under the harsh light of the ceiling lights, but none of it offered any clues as to what his next move would be. Instead he just grinned devilishly as he darted in and out, dances circles around Andrew, trying to confuse him until finally…

A fake right was quickly thrown to throw Andrew off and was followed by a well-placed, left rabbit punch aimed straight for the kid’s ribs…