[for Steve]

[manwithoutfear]

Politics are uncharted territory, but the boxing ring is like coming home. I don't come here half as often as I'd like, the space occupied six times out of seven, but today, the air is quiet of muffled blows when I make my traditional afternoon inquiry. Not a soul save my own.

The canvas floor sighs under my weight as I step through the ropes, the smell of sweat and blood assaulting my nose for those moments I linger near the ground before straightening. I wrap both hands in lengths of thin, soft cloth, my actions practiced and quick, since I don't know how long it is until I find an audience (or an audience finds me).

As it turns out, however, it's far too soon. I barely get my hands on the bag before I hear the tell-tale fall of footsteps behind me, light but plainly audible. I'm a difficult man to sneak up on. I sigh with something like relief when I realize I won't have to lie about why I'm here; his gait is no less recognizable than his heartbeat.

"Steve."

Comments

[onlyforthedream]

"Matt." I vault easily up into the ring, ducking a rope to stop a few feet to Matt's right. I shouldn't be surprised the bag is in use- there are a lot of fighters on this island with a lot of free time on their hands. We could use another gym. Or five.

"I hope every potential candidate doesn't feel the need to blow off steam. It'll get pretty crowded up here pretty quickly.

[manwithoutfear]

"Some of the candidates are fourteen-year-old girls," I reply, resting my hands once more against the cracked leather of the bag. It's warm from the sun, almost too hot to touch at this time of day. Punching is a different story.

I step back to offer him the bag. It only seems polite.

"I'm not one intent on discouraging children from an interest in politics -- God knows we could use more of that back home -- but it is a bit insulting to the incumbents."

[onlyforthedream]

"I think age is less of a concern than other factors. It all usually comes out at the speeches," I reply. I'm not, to be honest, overly concerned. Not in regard to my own nomination, but the idea of people being elected who aren't necessarily mature enough to hold the post. From past minutes and old rosters, a level headed group seems to have been elected most of the time.

"Care to throw some punches at something that can throw some back?"

[manwithoutfear]

The last person I threw a punch at was Peter. The circumstances were remarkably different, though the incident sticks out in my mind as peculiar even weeks after the fact. It had been the heat, surely, everything's been fine since, and yet... I shake my head, pushing away the thought.

"You're not afraid you'll hurt me?" I ask, sarcasm all but dripping by the end of my sentence. I've gotten the sense that most of the guys from back home have written me off here (at least the ones who believed I was Daredevil in the first place). For the number of heroes walking around, I just don't run into any of them all that often.

[onlyforthedream]

My eyebrows lift at that. I understand the implication, I'm just not sure why it was made.

"Are you injured?"

[manwithoutfear]

I grin. Count on Captain America to cut to the chase.

"Not remotely."

[onlyforthedream]

"Then I'm not too worried about it." I cross the ring to the opposite corner, not bothering, or offering, to take down the bag.

It might make things more interesting at some point, who knows.

[manwithoutfear]

At least when we're not in a ring, apparently. I'll never be first on the list of people they call upon in a crisis, and I doubt one fight with the Sentinel of Liberty is going to change that fact. That doesn't mean I'm any less intent on proving I'm still in this game. There are worse reasons to spar than pride (though I'm sure Stick would disagree).

I stand loose and at the ready, needing no further preparation. I might not always make it out to the ring, but there's more than one way to train, and I've worked each and every day I've been here. I don't believe in getting rusty.

"Hit me with your best shot."

[onlyforthedream]

We both know I'm not going to, but I come at him fast, anyway, a deft left hook with a feint on its heels. When we get into each others' way back home, it's rarely anything short of a nightmare. Neither of us are prone to backing down and we're both exceptional fighters. In a world where egos clash regularly, I can honestly say I have the utmost respect for Daredevil.

[manwithoutfear]

My mouth pulls into a grin. It's always a pleasure to fight someone who knows what they're doing -- more so when the opponent is maybe more skilled than yourself. At our level, though, that difference is perhaps negligible, but it's the kind of thing that makes me want to bring my A-game. It's been far too long since I had anyone throw a punch my way.

Not that anything lands. I've had plenty of time to get used to life without my radar sense. I block, deftly, dodging the feint, and leading up with my own combination of punches.