This takes place between Silver and Violet before Dragon Ball, when they're all gathered at the main base for a large meeting over the Dragon Balls. Anyways, it's rated T not for language or anything necessarily bad happening, but there is a minor adult theme, as I think this site has coined the term. Anyways, enjoy their friendship.
With the cool composure he had maintained throughout his life, Colonel Silver delivered precise punches at the red dummy, always standing up again after each blow thanks to the large, metal spring at its base. And each time the dummy, sewn with a thick, durable material, sprang back up into place, Silver wouldn't hesitate to knock it back down again. He continued at this, beating down the poor thing with his thick, red boxing gloves. It was rather crudely made, simply a lopsided figure with no head, no arms; it only had a chest so that, each time it stood upright again, he could punch the thing straight in its heart. It was only after ten minutes that he managed to bore a hole in it, penetrating the supposedly impervious fabric and allowing its cotton innards to spill out, bits of fluff falling to the ground.
He quickly slid the boxing gloves off of his hands, throwing them down on a stool next to him. He sighed and leaned against the disproportionate structure, grabbing his plastic bottle of water from off of that same stool and meticulously unscrewing the cap. He held the plastic top in his hands as he held the bottle's mouth to his own, draining the last bits of water clinging to the bottom. Then, with a rare, unprofessional anger coming over him, he crushed the bottle and set it back in its place, throwing the cap on top of the boxing gloves. It wasn't until then that he noticed Violet leaning against the wall, her arms crossed as she watch him.
Silver bent down, picking his small rag off the floor and proceeding to wipe the sweat off of his face with it. He huffed slightly, wondering why that woman was down here in the training basement. She had been following him around lately ever since they had been stationed here at the Red Ribbon Army's main base. He supposed that without her inferiors to boss around, being with somebody of equal status was the next best thing.
He tossed the rag carelessly on the punctured figure and grabbed his purple jacket that had been hanging on a nearby punching bag. He slid it over his broad shoulders, covering up his bare back as he picked his signature red ascot that had also been dangling from the punching bag. He proceeded to tie it around his neck as he marched across the basement, lit only by the dim floodlights hanging on the low ceiling. It was finally when he reached her, having finished the knot, that he asked formally, "What business do you have here?"
Violet shook her head, looking at the man who had stopped only a few feet before her. "I don't have any business - I just came to see what you were doing." She held her arms closer against her green shirt, examining him. He certainly had the build of a warrior, something that Violet always noted with appreciation. But he only pulled at his ascot, loosening the red cloth's grip around his neck and paying no mind to the woman's trailing eyes. It was finally then that his attention was brought fully back to her as she commented, "You looked tense out there. What's wrong with you?"
Her gaze was brought back up to his rigid face, and he was slightly surprised that she actually sounded concerned. He only turned around and folded his arms across his uncovered chest, walking back to the training equipment with the tails of his jacket swaying in his wake. He sighed deeply as he faced her again, now standing near the wrestling ring, as he said, "It's not my place to talk of such matters." He had trouble trusting anybody in this business, and Violet seemed to be the most suspicious of anybody. When they weren't in such close proximity of each other, she had never taken any interest in him. But now that they were living under the same, large roof, she had begun going out of her way just to see him. He couldn't help but wonder what her intentions were, but he doubted they were pure.
The purple-haired woman pried herself off of the dirty, brick wall, having not been cleaned in years. This room typically went uninhabited, most of the men staying here having access to the new gym. But, because he was only a temporary recruit to be manned at this base, he hadn't received the access code to the new gym. They had already been here for over a week, stationed at the main base, but Silver hadn't ventured to find out the access code. He preferred the solitude that this basement provided, or at least that it usually provided. But here was Violet, having followed him as if she expected something of him.
She approached the red-haired man, a thin, red glove placed on her hip as she swaggered across the area. She had been there for a few days longer than the red-haired man, thus having the access code, though she personally hated the newer workout room. The men up there were pigs, giving her no privacy as a woman. And, as a colonel and thus higher ranked than most of them, she took the liberty to beat some of them up, hoping to let everybody else learn their place by somebody else's example. But there were too many to control, and thus, she hadn't trained in the week they'd been there. She hadn't found out about this underground gym until she had heard Silver talk about it casually to one of their inferiors, letting this secret location slip. It had only been a matter of following Silver down here that she had managed to stumble upon it, not by accident.
She smiled smugly as she watched Silver stand there, caught in a dilemma. He clearly wanted to be alone, but his manners prevented him from kicking the woman out. So she continued walking up to him, one of her hands now propped on the tiny pistol sitting in the holster around her waist. "It is my business, because you're my comrade," she said, not listening to this excuse he had been giving her since his first day on base. He intrigued her, being one of the few men to have the decency to keep his mouth shut. She found his odd manners appealing, and his rough looks only drew her closer to him. She had to look out for him, especially since she had noticed General Copper, their superior, giving him a hard time lately. Nobody else would stick up for him, but Violet promised that she would be the one to. She typically didn't like sticking out, but if it meant helping out this man, she wouldn't mind.
Silver stepped back, his austere expression not managing to faze the determined woman. He leaned against the blue cords tightened around the boxing ring and wrapped his hand around one of them, his eyes unable to leave her face. He couldn't be certain of what she wanted, but he knew that if she was like the other women he knew, it wasn't for anything good. Her face seemed innocent enough, with her narrow cheeks and high forehead, but then there were those eyes. Her green eyes had a certain cunning in them, he knew, that showed some ulterior motive to her being in the basement with him. If only he could decipher exactly what she wanted, then he would know how to tell her that he didn't want to talk to her. But he simply repeated, "It's not my place."
With his hand held before him for her to stop, she obeyed. She stood just in front of him, her fingers subconsciously wrapping around the leather holster she was wearing, feeling her fingertips stroke the butt of her gun. She knew that he wouldn't say anything if she didn't stir the stagnant conversation. To make him think that she already knew exactly what was biting at him, she said, "I know why you're so angry."
He felt his eyes narrow slightly at this statement, and he watched her with interest as she began slowly circling around him, eventually clinging on to the rope strung above his across the side of the boxing arena. She leaned against them, putting her weight on them as he felt his hand move, still hanging on to one of those ropes. She smirked as she bounced back, her fingers still tangled around that same cord as she stopped putting pressure on all of them. "You're angry because of General Copper," she guessed, desperately hoping that she was right. She licked her lips slightly, watching his stony expression only harden at this assumption. So he wouldn't break right away, bringing the purple-haired woman to continue, "I heard some of the men talk about it last night. They wouldn't stop talking over dinner, spraying food everywhere. I finally had to get up and leave, disgusted by their manners, but not before I heard that small bit."
She immediately knew that she had said the wrong thing, though, as she saw his face change into almost a relieved smile. But Colonel Silver didn't smile, and thus, the red-haired man's face simply became a more contented frown. The edges of the sides of his face softened a little as he said, "It was a good bluff."
Violet felt her face redden slightly, wishing that she hadn't pushed it so far. She wrapped her arm over one of the wrestling arena's cords, allowing it to dangle down as she pressed her cheek against her knuckles. But there still was something about how he had reacted when she had brought up their immediate superior, prompting her to say, "But I know that you really must be upset with General Copper, just by your reaction." She let out a small smile as Silver leaned back against the cords, unimpressed by his acting skills. He listened as she asked, "What did he do? You can tell me."
He turned his face away as he crossed his arms again, placing them against his chest. Her smile was disarming, something that he wasn't used to seeing in this line of business, and much less from a woman. They had talked over the radio several times for mission briefings and other such things, though he felt as if he had just met the woman. Violet had always seemed so ruthless over those transmissions, her voice sharp as she talked with disregard of the privates sacrificed under her caring eye. Her policies had seemed so much harsher than his own, as he always tried to get away from dangerous situations with every man still alive. But now as she stood there, that strange twinkle in her green eyes, she seemed almost child-like. He couldn't believe that this woman was a murderer, and this disbelief was only more reason not to trust her. If he could be deceived by her appearances alone, he didn't want to imagine what would happen if he combined that with her influential words.
The woman noticed his refusal to share what had happened and inched closer to him, finally reaching forth to touch the edges of his jacket sleeve. Silver darted his eyes towards her suspiciously, though he was glad that she finally had her fingers off of her gun. That weapon, however, seemed nothing compared to her power of persuasion as she insisted, "You can trust me, Silver. I'm lonely here with us being temporarily off missions, and I need somebody to confide in me."
This was the truth. She may have been able to stand independently, though she never liked being alone. She usually had her underlings to boss around, but here, there was nobody. General Copper now seemed to watch her every move, as if waiting for her to mess up, and so she decided that she would just hand over control to her superior for the bit of time they were trapped in this mansion. But Silver couldn't believe that she simply wanted somebody to trust during this time; he believed that she wanted more out of this than friendship, something that women always seemed to look for.
But the look in her eyes was sincere as she begged, "Really, Silver. You're the only man on these grounds that is equal to me and treats me as such. None of the generals will give me the time of day, and any time I try to join into any of the lower ranks' conversations, they won't listen to me." Her expression was genuine as she looked at the general, now staring at his brown boots. "I just want to have a friend while I'm in this place."
Silver looked up, his small, dark eyes locking contact with her large, green ones. There was something in her tone that seemed too realistic to him; there was a pain in there that he felt, unaware that it was actually real. But then, as she said those words, he felt his stone heart twinge.
He was in need of a friend, too.
Her expectant expression as he stood up straight, taking his weight off of the boxing arena's cords, was unsettling. He set his jaw in place and brushed past her, heading back to the equipment he had been dealing with before she had come in. She watched in awe as he shrugged the heavy purple jacket off of his muscular shoulders, tossing it on top of the ruined dummy. He left his ascot untouched as he turned away from her, replying in an indifferent tone, "I'll think about it."
Her heart was elated just by him speaking. She watched as the tall man set to work on the punching bag, throwing his fists expertly at the thing. She decided that she would give him time to think over her proposal, feeling her mood lift incredibly by the prospect of having a friend. She needed to have somebody to lean on the shoulder of at the moment, and there was nobody else's shoulder he would rather lean on than Silver's.
She retreated back up the stairs quickly and quietly, certain to maintain her passive attitude lest another officer think something was wrong. And Silver, after hearing that door close upstairs, stopped his punching to tug his ascot off again, tossing it in the pile with his boxing gloves. He didn't want her to know, but the idea of having a friend relieved him. He flexed his fingers and cracked them, allowing his arms to stretch before he began pounding at the durable material once more. He had forgotten to put his boxing gloves back on, but he knew subconsciously that something had to come off this next round.
He just hoped that it wouldn't be his pants.
