Case Reopened

Training

I feel like with my new hobby this chapter was just bound to happen. Also you know how I love playing with cliches.

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"Keep your guard up."

The warning came one second before the padded fist did. Carter jerked her hand up but was a second too late. The boxing mitt hit her in the cheek and she crumpled to the mat. The thrum of quick footsteps doing moves and counter moves vibrated along her spine as she lay there, mixing well with the heavy bass music that played through the speakers. Captain leaned into her view, grinning.

"What did I tell you about your guard?" he said.

Carter smacked her gloves against the mat, though she knew the frustration was aimed only at herself. Captain had repeatedly told her to keep her guard up. But trying to keep that point in her mind while also remembering to not look down, check his kicks, parry his blows, slip his hook, and always, always stay in fighting stance, Carter easily dropped her guard.

Only this was the first time she'd paid for it. The other times Captain had merely given the reminder, none of them had some with the repercussions of dropping her guard. With a slightly throbbing face, she understood why it was key.

The difference between throwing punches at a stasis bag and sparring with another human being wasn't at all similar. For one, a bag never hit back. Second, if she dropped her guard with the bag, it never took the opening to hit her.

She was pretty sure she preferred the bag.

Captain knelt beside Carter and she pushed herself into a sitting position. He narrowed his eyes and removed one of his mitts.

"Sarge," he said gently touching her cheek which made Carter wince. "I'm getting ice."

"I'm fine."

"You will be," he said, standing and tossing his second mitt down next to her.

Sighing, Carter tugged off her gloves and set them aside. Her wraps were soaked with sweat, which was equal to the rest of her. From the corner she'd claimed with Captain, Carter surveyed the rest of the boxing gym. A few of the men sparring with each other, Carter recognized as her father's colleagues; it was a common place for Secret Service agents to train. Though there were guys only a few years older than Carter, sparring, their movements were quick and fluid.

At the far side of the mat, Carter spotted a woman working on the bag. Every punch was sharp like a stab from a knife rather than a hit from a battering ram like most of the men dealt. Carter watched her, in awe of her precision and effortlessness.

So focused on Wonder Woman, Carter didn't notice as one of the guys who'd been sparring approached her. When he was nearly in front of her, Carter registered his presence and started in surprise.

He smiled at her, sweat dotting his forehead and dripping down the side of his face. Though only a few years older than her, that still put him at eighteen or nineteen to her fifteen years. Though Carter rarely felt intimidated by people close to her age, something about this guy with his wrapped hands and defined muscles had her feeling flustered and out of her element.

"Hey," he said. "I saw you go down. Are you okay? You're new to the gym, right? I haven't seen you here before."

"Uh..." Carter mentally cringed. When did she ever find herself lost for words? Words were her weapons. She cleared her throat and worked to calm her speeding heartbeat. "Yeah, I started coming a week ago."

The guy smiled again, something welcoming and slightly flirtatious. "I'm Roman."

He held out his hand but hesitated. "Oh you probably don't want to shake that, it's really sweaty."