[oom] training ground

[nerves_of_ice]

He'd made a promise, and he intends to deliver. He just also intends to make sure it's not the sort of thing that draws an audience - especially not any of the kids.

It takes a little while to find a clearing further out but within reasonable distance of the hut, then a little bit longer to set it up with a waterproof chest and some basic equipment. But eventually it's ready, or good enough as.

Once the goats are taken care of for the morning, he takes up position under the usual shade tree to scratch out a few notes in his latest journal and to wait for Sharon to drop by. If she's got time this afternoon, if she's not busy with Shuri or Ayo, well, then they'll see.

Comments

[from_the_outside]

She nods and moves into a flow of warm-up stretches, unself-conscious as she works her back and shoulders, loosens her neck, coaxes her tight hamstrings and calves into relaxing.

Her blood is beating bright through her, and she can't quell her excitement, no matter how much she tries to remember he's doing this mostly just so she doesn't get her ass killed on some mission down the line. "Better," she says, rolling her shoulders.

Not perfect until she's warmed up, but it'll do.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Sparring first," he says. "Let me get a look at your technique in a little different way this time."

It's very, very wry, but his gaze is steady and serious. "Then I've got a few ideas. So when you're ready... come on."

[from_the_outside]

She's gone up against Bucky exactly twice: once with everything she had and none of it anywhere near good enough, and once where he'd seemingly wanted to teleport out of the ring rather than spar with her.

So maybe it shouldn't surprise her that when she steps into range and tells herself to throw a strike, her body doesn't quite listen to her the way it usually does.

In fact, she hesitates. It's such an alien experience that she blinks at herself, bewildered, like someone who had reached to open a door and has instead found that the knob came off in their hand. It's enough of a stutter that, if it were a real fight, she'd already have lost.

[nerves_of_ice]

She looks surprised, which makes both of them, because the last thing he was expecting was for her to freeze. Bucky stares at her, startled.

"... do you want to defend first?" he asks.

[from_the_outside]

"No, I – "

She doesn't have any idea how to end that sentence. Lifting her hand, she frowns at it, like maybe the fault lies somewhere in her skeleton or nerves or muscles. "Weird."

[nerves_of_ice]

He's not sure of the why, or not exactly, but he's pretty sure of the reason. It's because it's him, somehow. Is she worried about him? Is she scared of him, deep down at the level of self-preservation? Something in between?

Bucky takes a careful step closer and holds both hands out to her. "Got an idea," he says. "Give me your hands, baby. Dance with me."

[from_the_outside]

She puts her hands in his with no sign of the hesitation of earlier and steps closer as her mouth quirks, wryly amused.

"That seems like the opposite of what we're supposed to be doing."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Well, it's a different kind of dance," he tells her, with a wry smile. Bucky closes his fingers around hers and holds on, then starts to guide her hands in his through the pattern of a kata - with no force to any of the feigned blows, only the controlled, practiced movement of blows and blocks.

He's watching like a hawk for any resistance, for any sign that she wants to pull away.

[from_the_outside]

Her brow furrows, but once she realizes what he's up to, she relaxes, shoulders all the way down through her hips and knees, lets him guide her through the motions. Together, they sketch a pattern of strikes and blocks, but none of it gets anywhere near either of them, and there's no force behind it.

[nerves_of_ice]

The relaxation's a good sign, he feels. Slowly, steadily, he begins to pick up the pace, and as he does he loosens his grip on her fingers but doesn't let go.

[from_the_outside]

The motions become more fluid, more organic, but he doesn't quite let her go, which she appreciates. She uses the time to ground herself in her body, in her hips and core; in her breath. Slowly, her shoulders begin to loosen.

[nerves_of_ice]

"There it is," he murmurs, as she relaxes into herself. "There you are, Sharon. I'm ready when you are. We've got all the time we need."

[from_the_outside]

"Are you sure?"

She knows, she knows: he offered. But Bucky offers a lot of things that aren't necessarily what's best for him, if he thinks it'll help someone else. "A hundred percent?"

No tension reappears as she murmurs her questions; she just meets his gaze with her own, full of steady trust and just a hint of concern. "You... want to do this?"

What a loaded question. But it's important. "Not just because it's something I asked for?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm sure." Quiet, but absolutely certain. "I've been thinking about it since. Even before I started getting this place ready. I was pretty sure you weren't going to bring it up again, either, so I had time to be sure."

There's no evasion in his glance, equally steady on hers. "You don't have to. If you're scared of me, or for any other reason, you don't, I swear. We can find another way to make sure you're at the top of your game. But if you do... I'm here."

[from_the_outside]

Of course she wasn't going to bring it up again. Of course he knew she wouldn't. "I'm not scared of you."

She can say that with absolute certainty. She has a healthy respect for his abilities and she never wants to take a hit like the one she took in Berlin from him ever again, but she could no more be scared of Bucky than of her own parents. "There's no one I trust more."

She breathes deep, nods. "I do. I want to."

One more breath, and a smile tugs onto her lips. "Let's do it. Me and you."

[nerves_of_ice]

He smiles back, just a little - but it's warm and relaxed. Bucky squeezes her fingers, then loosens his hold so she can pull free.

"Okay, baby. Let's see what you've got."

[from_the_outside]

She grins at him, and falls into stance.

This time there's no hesitation, only focus and discipline. She tests her range, mixes up her strikes, takes angles where she can. The running analysis in the back of her mind reminds her to slip in an out of his range, if she can, not to stay in one spot long enough to get clocked.

It goes against her preferred style, but she can do it.

[nerves_of_ice]

He's careful to keep his own strikes pulled, but he throws them; careful as well to keep his speed notched down from full, but fast enough to make her work for it. As they spar, he makes mental notes about things they can work on, and which of them they need to work on first.

"Pretty textbook," he observes, as he blocks a knee and counters with a strike to her center.

[from_the_outside]

Her knee comes up swiftly to block his punch; when her foot comes down, it's to take an angle so she can send a shovel punch to his ribs. "It would be."

She's had the best instructors, and she'd trained with single-minded discipline. In a street fight, she'd be able to take almost anyone up to her same level of skill.

But it's not as adaptable as she wants to be.

[nerves_of_ice]

The expected response would be another block and twist away. Instead, he twists in, moving inside the angle of her punch so that it skids across his back instead and drops to his knee, bringing his hand down on her thigh just above her knee in a blow that would have broken the joint if he'd put force behind it.

"So what we need to work on," he says, "is you becoming so comfortable in your body that you can react to the unexpected with the same trained skill by instinct, rather than pattern."

[from_the_outside]

"That would be a good start."

She folds her arm and drops, elbow-first, in a strike that would crack his skull – if this were a real fight, and if he weren't a basically unbreakable super soldier.

[nerves_of_ice]

He uses his knee as a fulcrum and pivots, ducking to take the blow on his shoulder and tucking into a roll that brings him up on his feet a short distance away from her.

"That'd have hurt," he approves. "But like you said before, what would that have done to your mobility?"

[from_the_outside]

"Against one, go to the ground," she says. Her chest is lightly slicked with sweat, and rising and falling in light, rapid breaths. "More of a problem if there's more than one opponent."

[nerves_of_ice]

"So here's what I suggest." She's showing the effort, but not exhausted or anywhere near. Besides, she needs to build up her stamina, too.

"For a while we do a regular routine. Stretching, sparring, then a series of tumbling and acrobatics and new moves from different styles for you. Once those come naturally, we'll start mixing them in and changing things up. A lot."

[from_the_outside]

She nods and lifts a hand to swipe sweat-sticky hair off her forehead. "Sounds good."

Sounds like a challenge, which she needs, and which he's well-suited to give.