[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]

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.