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Atlas Gym, Thursday Evening

Sarah shut down the comics shop promptly at 6, and went to the gym to get in a treadmill run and some yoga before she expected Loki.

It occurred to her that she might be in over her head, what with the whole ... Loki thing. She'd sparred bigger guys before, and won, but nobody with wings. Nobody who couldn't die.

Learning experience. Like everything else. And she would never step away from a challenge.

[OOC: Open gym, but she's here for one.]

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Loki appeared a few minutes later, already taking off his jacket as he pushed through the doors.

"This fucking week, I swear," he said in greeting.

"That bad?" Sarah asked. She didn't exactly expect the wings to show up, but he was probably going to get checked for them every time she saw him for a while anyhow. "I noticed radio's pissier than usual. What's going on?"

"Stress," he said which wasn't a lie. "I'm so fucking tense, I could snap at any moment."

Okay, maybe that was an embellishment.

"Which makes this little get together very timely."

Sarah cracked her neck warily. She trusted him not to send her to the clinic, but ...

"I don't think I want to see you snap," she finally decided. "Sorry you're stressed out. I'm just still glad last week is over."

"I haven't snapped in at least a decade," he teased. "I think you're safe. I'm just fucking stressed. Need an outlet."

Sarah shrugged a little, nodding. "And it's more fun hitting something that hits back," she said. "Punching bags get boring after a while."

"Sound like you've had experience in that," he said, going to pick out a pair of gloves. "Are you besties with the punching bag?"

"It's seen me through some tough times," Sarah claimed with a little smile. She watched him pick out gloves, then retrieved a set for herself. "So, do you do anything with rules, or should we just go at it?"

"Let's just go at it," he said. "If you hit me, it's going to hurt but you're not going to hurt me enough that I give the fuck up. Free reign to hit anything. You're not going to break a wing or anything."

Sarah made big, innocent eyes. "Would I really try to break a wing?"

She ... wouldn't actually. She wasn't religious, but she was still pretty sure that if you broke an angel's wings, you went to hell.

"Let's just say that the only way to really hurt me is to break a fucking wing," Loki said. "It has ramifications."

Sarah thought about asking about that, but instead she just nodded.

"Thanks for the heads up," she said, more serious. "And I'm, y'know, normal human. No particular places not to hit me, but I can take a blow."

Meaning, she would also rather not be broken.

"Noted," he said and banged his now gloved hands against each other. "You need stretching time?"

"I was doing some yoga before you came in," Sarah said, shaking her head. "I'm good."

She moved over to the mats and shifted into a defensive stance. "Whenever you're ready."

"All righty," he said, stretching his arms out as he walked to the mat and, trying to catch her off guard, came down off a stretch to swing towards her head.

Sarah had expected more warning; she managed to get her arms up in time to deflect the blow, but it cost her any chance at getting in a hit herself. She stepped to the side instead, willing to stay on the defensive for the moment.

"Quick," he complimented, keeping one arm up and leaving the other lax at his side. He grinned, the only warning she got before he came at her again, keeping his eyes on her even as he went low with a punch to the stomach.

He wasn't playing nice; the fist to her stomach got her, and she grunted softly before trying for a clean, classic uppercut.

He didn't lean back quick enough and it glanced off his chin, sending him back on his heels for a moment before he tried using his height and punching down at her shoulder, more of a move to get her off balance than anything.

Sarah had a chance to see that coming; ignoring the smarting shoulder, she reached for his wrist with her opposite hand, hoping to twist it enough to put him off balance.

"Fuck," he muttered, stumbling and losing both his focus and his balance for the moment.

Sarah could have taken him down then, easily, but that would have been a letdown in its own way.

Breathing harder, she released his wrist with a little shove and took a quick step back to a defensive stance again.

"Oh, come on, don't go easy on me," he said, regaining his balance and stalking towards her. He feinted with a right hook and then use the heel of his foot to slam against her toes.

Okay, that hurt. "Fine," she said, setting her (bruised, probably) jaw.

She sent a hard left hook crashing toward his upper arm.

He hadn't expected a retaliation so quick so the shot hit its mark and he stepped backwards, away from her when it did. He didn't stay there for long, coming back with two quick jabs towards her chin.

The chin hits found their mark, and Sarah bit her tongue as her head rocked backwards. Stumbling just slightly, she crouched lower and kicked out, hard, at his knee.

"Oh, fucking fuck," he said, feeling that knee buckle enough that it folded underneath him which meant he was now kneeling on the mat, wincing and trying to get back to his feet.

He'd told her not to go easy on him, but Sarah still wasn't the biggest fan of hitting people when they were down.

All right, not if they hadn't done anything wrong.

She was breathing heavy as she brought her calf around and into his chest. Not a hard blow, nothing that would crush a rib (if he even had ribs) but enough to get him to get down and stay down.

Yeah, he wasn't going to be staying down so easy. He caught her leg luckily and, while still on knee, twisted his own body around and tried to bring her down with him.

Probably she should have, but Sarah hadn't expected that. She went down, hard, weight crashing onto her elbows, and banged the back of her head against the mat before coming to a rest.

"Chriiiiiiiist." It would take a little longer for her to be coherent.

Loki scrambled up, breathing heavily and grinning down at her. "You okay?"

"Peachy." She winced as her elbows took her weight again and she stood. Her face hurt; she'd be piling on the cover-up again tomorrow. "You?"

"I think you fucking cracked my knee," he said, shaking it out. "Good thing it'll heal up pretty quick. Too much?"

It had been fun. Even if there were about seven sore places on her body.

"No," Sarah said, hand patting at her jawline to suss out the sensitive spots. "I heal too, anyhow."

Less fast, but he knew that.

"Then, we can do this again sometime," he said, offering her a hand up. "You're still hot, don't worry."

It hurt to smile, but Sarah had to do it anyhow. "Thanks," she said, as she started to unlace her gloves. "You're still adorable."

"Fuck you," he said affectionately while doing the same with his own gloves. "I am not adorable."

"Of course not," Sarah said, clearly humoring him. "Feel a little better?"

She did.

"Yeah, that ebbed some of the tension away," he said and took a breath. "Thanks for the spar."

"Anytime," she said sincerely.

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Atlas Gym, Thursday Evening

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