January 15, 2014

"Okay, here's the deal," Bellona Drager announced as she flounced into the large, airy gym in one of the floors of the Avengers Tower. "If I knock any of you out, that person is now obligated to buy me coffee, whenever I feel like it."

"Knock out as in unconscious, or the boxing type of knockout?" Natasha asked, twirling a strand of her hair around her fingers as Tony rolled his eyes while wrapping his hands and Steve simply laughed to himself. Clint had opted out of the boxing matches the group had planned for that day, but still came to watch, smirking and making snide comments that were entirely audible to everyone despite how low his voice sank.

"Either!" Bellona grinned, skipping towards the large boxing ring that was centered in the room and slipping under the ropes surrounding it. She turned back to face the three others. "Who's first?"

"Me," Tony volunteered, hopping into the ring after her. "I'll go easy on you."

"I think you should take a seat with Agent Barton over there," Bellona teased him, "because you're about to get your ass kicked."

"We'll see about that," Tony cracked his knuckles then gave her a stony look. "No cheating."

She held up her hands in compliance, clearly showing the glinting silver bracelets that Tony had repaired for her. They were now twice as thick as they'd been before, allowing them to conceal the snarling brands on her wrists, the Hydra chain metal having been combined with titanium, the same material Tony's suits were made of, they looked more like a bold but classical fashion statement rather than a preventive precaution, and, at Bellona's vague and somewhat confusing request, would respond more to a metal touch than bare flesh, making it difficult for anyone, including herself, to snatch them off her wrists. It meant that Tony, using his metal suit, could more easily remove them from her wrists than she herself could.

"No cheating on your part, either," she threatened, pointing an accusing finger at him. "No suit."

"No suit," he agreed, clapping his boxing gloves together and sinking into a defensive crouch.

Bellona let out a mocking laugh. "You're a literal old man. I'm going to hurt you."

"Did you just call me old?"

"Yes," she sniggered, "what are you gonna be — forty…."

"Forty-four, if you really think that's old, the elderly man over there is over ninety-five," Tony jerked his head in Steve's direction, who spread his hands out in irritation, annoyed his actual age was constantly being mocked. "And you just turned forty a few months ago, so quit it with the age jokes."

"But you look so old!"

"Are you guys gonna fight or what?" Clint called from where he was lounging on the modern leather couches across the room. "I came here to be entertained."

"Yeah, Barton, put some music on, be useful," Tony ordered, and Clint, muttering about how he ought to just become the official Avengers' DJ and give up shooting arrows — why he shot arrows in the twenty-first century was still beyond him — toyed with the sound system controls embedded on the glass table before the couch until a steady beat bounced from the speakers and around the room.

"If I break your entire body, maybe I'll apologize," Bellona warned Tony just before she charged him. He stepped out of the way, but she'd charged him with the exact intention of forcing him to step away, thus her actions did not go without results. She looped her arm around his and forced herself downwards and forwards, dropping into a roll, the leverage from which caused Tony to fly head over heels and land heavily on his back, groaning as the wind was knocked out of him. Bellona was on her feet instantly, smirking down at him.

"Holy shit," he breathed, "I wasn't ready, that doesn't count."

"You're full of shit, Stark!" She snickered. He hadn't even bothered to pull himself up. "Steve, can you at least give me a challenge?"

"No, we're not done!" Tony shot upwards, steadying himself on his feet, though still looking rather stunned.

"Give it up, Stark," Natasha announced from where she'd taken a seat next to Clint, "hand-to-hand isn't your speciality."

"I could kick your ass any day, Bella," Tony grumbled, though he grudgingly stepped out of the ring and slowly walked over to where Black Widow and Hawkeye were trying to hide their laughter.

"Rogers!" Bellona called and Steve entered the ring, an amused expression on his face. "Rules are: don't touch the face. Or head. I hate head contact. Don't touch the head. Or the braid. Definitely do not touch the braid. Got it?"

"I think so — don't touch the head," his lips twitched into a smile, "seems easy enough."

"Said Tony Stark," Bellona smirked and jumped towards the super-soldier.

The fight was much more equally matched, though neither were trying their hardest so as to not cause or obtain any serious injury. Though Steve had the advantage of power, Bellona possessed speed, and he failed to land a blow until quite a bit of her dodging and dancing around him. His boxing glove impacted her left shoulder, causing her to stumble backwards and hit the floor of the ring; she quickly rolled to her feet but found her back pressed against the ropes of the ring and Steve before her.

"Okay," she breathed, and his ready right hand dropped from its offensive position. "You won that one."

"You put up a good fight," Steve informed her, tugging off his gloves and studying the girl with intriguing blue eyes. It hadn't escaped his notice neither of them were very winded.

"I could have tried harder," she grinned at him, "so could you."

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" He asked curiously while Tony was fiddling with the speakers, searching for a song he wanted to listen to and criticizing Clint's music choices.

"Dunno," she answered with a shrug, and Steve watched the grin slide off her face as her eyes grew solemn.

"Well whoever taught you to fight knew what they were doing."