[center][h2]First Taste[/h2][/center] [center]A Collab Between [@1Hawkeyes] & Crossfire[/center] ---------------------------- 2 Days Ago 8:00 P.M. Navy St. Boxing & Fitness Gym Long Beach ----------------------------- For being 'part-time', Trip's trainer job sure took up a lot of time. Since he arrived a few hours ago, he'd taught 2 group sessions and 4 one-on-one sessions. It was almost a relief when Carly, the beautiful young woman who worked the front desk, came over to tell him that someone had called to postpone their lesson. The only problem? His last lesson was almost two hours away. With that in mind, he wandered into the locker room to text Ally. [i]Hey[/i] he wrote [i]Someone cancelled their lesson and I've got 2 hours to kill, wanna come by and get some work in?[/i] [i]To kick your butt? You don't even have to ask[/i], was Ally's reply. At the moment, she was getting in her car after, ready to go home from work. Usually she kept a duffle bag in the trunk in case she ever needed extra work out clothes or to spend the night somewhere. Now she could go to the gym and fight off any stress from her day. It took the woman about twenty minutes to get there, and when she did, she greeted the beautiful Carly and Trip. It only took her a couple minutes to change, so she popped out of the bathroom within seconds, tying up her hair. "Better watch out, Trip," Ally chuckled, tightening her ponytail, "I've been working a lot on my legs recently." Though she knew their sparring wasn't usually too rough, she loved to joke and tease the man. She greatly appreciated him inviting her to his gym. It made her feel special that he cared for her enough to squeeze her into his schedule when others canceled. "What are we starting with?" "Yeah I'll keep an eye on them" Trip said, pulling on a pair of focus mitts "As long as you been drilling your footwork too, cuz I want to see if you remember the combinations we were working on. We'll do that for a warmup. In the ring." Trip slipped in between the ropes and took his position at the center of the mat. "You remember how it goes right? Dodge and reset after each combo. I'm only going through the order once. Mistime a shot, break sequence, or cross your feet and we take it right from the top. Ready? 1-1-2, 1-2-1, 1-3-2, 1-4-5, 1-3-b4, 2-1-1, 1-4-1-2, 1-6-2-5. Now show me what ya got kiddo!" "Alright," Ally said, shaking out her shoulders. She climbed into the ring with Trip, excited for their session. They rarely got to do this anymore considering how busy they both were, so it was refreshing to partake in their training again. She listened to the line carefully. The warm up wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary, and definitely not the hardest drill he had given her before. She tapped the mitts, testing to make sure she was standing at a good distance before getting into her stance. When he gave the okay, fists began flying. Jab, jab, cross, duck. Jab, cross, jab, dodge. Jab, left hook, cross, parry. This went on for only a minute before the warm up was done. "I know you got more for me," Ally said, a bit of sweat forming on her forhead. She was glad he started her off easy, as she needed to loosen up more from work. "What's next?" "Ok, that was good. Speed was up from last time, accuracy pretty damn pinpoint. You're telegraphing your hooks a little bit, so let's work on that before we spar." He took a few minutes to walk Ally through the motions, demonstrating a smoother technique, then stood across from her again. "Alright, let's drill it. Jab into hook, cross into hook, then reverse it. Mix it up a little, keep me guessing. And for an added challenge, we're gonna do it distracted, just to test muscle memory. So, how was your day?" Ally listened carefully to each and every word Trip said, taking it into consideration. He demonstrated his technique and Ally copied, smoothing out her hooks. Of course she didn't master the technique perfectly, but she put a mental note to keep practicing it on her own with each training session. He went over the new training and Ally nodded, "Alright." "My day was pretty good," she answered, getting through the first combo forward and beginning backward. "That's it, keep it going. Just keep throwing shots and I'll try to keep up. Don't stop talking, even if you got nothing to say. Turn the fight into an unconscious task. For example, I came in here today and found myself saddled with the full load of lessons to teach because Martin's sick and Bud's still out of town cornering a student of his who just went pro. Let's see, first up was back to back group lessons, the first was a bunch of kids just starting out, barely 10 if I had to guess average age. Ran them through basic combinations and paired them off on the heavy bags to practice. Right after, the second group was ready to start, they were older, high school aged probably, figured they had enough grasp of things to set them up in sparring gear and watch them work, making corrections where needed. Now you go." Trip threw a lazy right hook with the flat edge of the focus mitt up over Ally's head, their signal for her to reset position and roll through the drill again. "Alright," Ally said, easily dodging the lazy hook. "Okay, so my day wasn't so bad. I had a lot of cleaning to do, lot of chocolate dried up on the floor I had to clean, so that sucked. No rude customers, um, that was good. Uh, needed to make a lot of cones in a short time so I burned my hands a lot. You know we make them fresh every, um, day. My favorite is the one with almonds and dark chocolate. I'll bring you one next time. Plus, uh, some kid came in earlier with her mom. Really cute kid, almost kidnapped her. Uh, that's about it for my day, it was good," she said, finishing up the last combo. "Alright, great job! Hooks looked a lot crisper that time, so, ready to move on to the main event? I'll get my gloves. Oh, and we're not risking another incident like last month, headgear on and mouth guard in." Trip walked out of the ring and over to where he and Ally's bags sat. He dropped the focus mitts alongside his bag and fished out his gloves, mouth guard and headgear. His hands were already wrapped, so he only had to pop in the mouth guard and strap his headgear in place before walking back to the ring. "Really appreciate you coming by the way" his words slightly slurred by the mouth guard "Would've been a boring couple of hours waiting on that last client, so thanks. Ok, same as before, talk through the sparring session. Let your mind wander away from your actions. Let's say 5 minutes at about 50%. You start us off when you're ready." Ally hopped out of the ring and fished out her own mouth guard, head gear, and switched her 14 oz. gloves for 16 oz. as a better strength training and as a safety precaution. "Yeah, you know I love training with you," Ally said sincerely just before popping her mouthpiece in. He explained the conditions and she nodded, happy to be getting to the actual sparring. "Alright," Ally said, putting her hands up protectively. She began to move in her stance, not too fast of course, and tested her distance. "So, the past couple days have felt kind of hectic," Ally said, now jabbing. "Everyone wants to do this vigilante thing, but," she threw a cross to a left hook, finding a nice pace, "not everyone knows how to fight. They could get in a lot of danger," she said, throwing a side kick to Trip's head, "if they can't defend themselves. I know a lot of them know some," she threw a jab, right uppercut, and a push kick, "self defense, but is it enough? I know vigilantism, "she threw a jab, right hook, then a left, "wasn't my idea but..." she trailed off, sending another side kick to his body and a cross, "Somehow I feel responsible for everyone," she threw a jab, cross, jab, cross, "You know?" "I get it" Trip said between breaths, Ally was smaller and faster, he always had a bit of trouble keeping up with her shots. "I've been thinking about it all week, like I said I would" A few jabs to get things going "And I just can't get comfortable with the truth of it all." Left hook, right cross, hands up to block a retaliation "I made my case about the dangers the other day, no need to rehash it, we both know the risks of going through with it. Especially with a group who have very little training." right hook to the body, he completely missed the follow-up uppercut. "There's no other way to say it, I'm conflicted. I teach 'em to fight and any of you get hurt, it's on me. I don't teach and any of you get hurt, well that's on me too." At his final sentence, Ally backed up and put her guard down, clearly showing their spar was over, at least momentarily. "Yeah, I understand. Now that this idea has turned into something more tangible... The bottom line is you and I are the most experienced fighters of the group. I know some of them have a bit of self defense knowledge but not many of them have ever sparred or been in a real fight. That's what worries me. Having the knowledge isn't the same as being able to properly apply it and fight. You and me know that's a totally different ball game." Ally's mind drifted back to a couple street fights she got in. Some were from crime, some were from high tensions with the person. She wondered if any of the others had ever been in these kind of situations, besides her and Trip. She couldn't think of any specific instances they spoke of, and that caused more worries for her. "Come on, let's do another session, we've got time" Trip said, resetting at the center of the ring. This time, he started the conversation. "Pretty strange about Aimee huh? She was all for the whole vigilante thing, and then she just up and disappears. I went by their place the other day, and her brother's gone too." Ally sighed, slightly making her breathing pattern off. "Yeah, it's odd, maybe it's a witness protection thing. Whatever the case," she said, tossing a kick, "I know she'll be okay." "I thought the same thing. She's strong though, she'll get through it" The duo continued sparring for a while, idly talking about nothing as they did so. The specter of the earlier discussion hung over Trip's head the whole time. Finally, he called for a break and walked off to the side, first removing his gloves, and then his headgear and mouth guard. "You know, you don't have to be a vigilante. I understand why you don't want to do it." Ally let out a long sigh, leaning on the ropes, "If one of them gets hurt, then the responsibility falls on my shoulders. At least I feel like it does. Trip, I would really love it if you helped to teach them beyond what they know." Ally looked at a clock mounted on the wall. They had spent about an hour training together. "I should start heading home now," she said solemnly as she unstrapped the head gear. She ducked between the ropes and stepped out to get her stuff. As the woman walked out the door, she turned to Trip and gave some parting words. "I want you to think about what I said- You don't have to be a vigilante, but without more training they won't make it." With that, the woman exited the gym and returned home, leaving Trip alone with his thoughts. --- It was nearly midnight when Trip left the gym. After his last client had left, he stayed back to clean up a little and make sure the place was locked up tight. He had walked about 3 blocks when a noise from the next alley froze him in place. Sounds of a struggle. He rounded the corner and took in the scene. A raggedy-dressed, greasy-haired tanned man, standing over a cowering young woman, who looked like she was trying to melt into the side of the dumpster. She was holding on to the straps of her handbag for dear life. "Please" she squealed "it's all I have!" "Let go you bitch" he grunted as he reached into his pocket to retrieve a rusty switchblade. As soon as the glint of the cold steel caught Trip's eye, he dropped his bag and bellowed out. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" It worked. The punk let go of the bag to face him, and the woman coiled it up underneath her arm, too petrified to run. He chuckled as he stepped towards Trip, twirling his knife menacingly. "Little fuckin' hero huh? Why don't ya mind your own business?" "Walk away man. I don't wanna do this" [i]'I can't do this. I won't'[/i] he thought as his fists came up into stance [i]'I can't fight back. It'd break everything I believe in about fighters being better than thugs. The fighter's oath: To always use my skills responsibly"[/i] The punk was within range. It was do or die. Fight or flight. As the crusty, chipped blade soared towards his chest, time seemed to slow down, his innate boxer's instincts taking over. He barely had time to process his actions before his body performed them. [i]'Sharp pivot. Avoid the blade. Not entirely though'[/i] He knew the back of his forearm was cut, not deep, but long. Left wrist to just shy of the elbow. He didn't feel it. Too much adrenaline. [i]'Grab his hand. Grip tight. Disarming strike.'[/i] His right fist collided with the punk's wrist. The force of the strike triggered a pain reflex, and the knife fell to the ground with a dull clatter. [i]Wide open. Back elbow to chin. Release hand. Step back. Reset stance.[/i] The punk was on the ground now, spitting up blood and a dislodged tooth. He wasn't done though. He pulled himself back up and with a harsh yell, began to charge. [i]Feint left into right hook. He's winded. Finish it.[/i] Trip threw a right cross, aimed square at the assailant's face. He felt the bridge of the nose begin to give way and then the punk fell to the ground. Out cold. "You ok?" Trip asked between breaths as he regained his senses and turned to face the woman. A sudden movement caught his eye as a pair of men came rushing out of the darkness. "No time! Run!" Trip shouted at her, startling her into action. He stood his ground, wanting to stall them as long as he could. He rolled his shoulders to avoid the first punch that came at him, retaliated with a straight left that went a little wide. A fist collided with his ribs, he reached out and grabbed onto the closer man, pulling him into a clinch so he could bring his knee sharply up into the body. The first man collapsed, but the second was right in there, not giving Trip a moment to take a rest. He ducked a few incoming strikes. Hook into left cross, and immediately followed by an uppercut that took the guy off his feet. He looked like he was out, but the other guy recovered, and was bull-rushing Trip again. He decided to meet him halfway, and broke into a quick stride. At the last minute, Trip leaped sideways and spring boarded himself off the alley wall into a punishing flying punch that sent both men sprawling to the ground. Trip recovered quickly, and got to his feet, hackles still raised, but it was over. All three of his would-be assailants were lying unconscious on the ground. He finally started to catch his breath. And all at once, felt the pain of the last few minutes. His arm was throbbing and burning, covered in a splatter of red so thick you'd think he dipped his arm into a bucket of paint. His ribs ached, and his knuckles were bruised and bleeding. He still hadn't come down from the adrenaline rush, his heart racing, and eyes wide like he was seeing everything for the first time. It started to abate just before the first responders arrived at the scene, right around the time Trip fished out his phone and texted Ally before his judgment got the better of him. [i]I'm in.[/i] --------------------- Now. --------------------- The night had come. Even now, Trip couldn't believe he was doing this. It went against all of his better judgment, but yet he was strangely excited about it. He'd gathered up a few things to use as a disguise and packed them securely inside his gym bag. He saw a couple of familiar cars already there when he parked. Fashionably late as always. He grabbed his bag and proceeded to the door.