When Peter arrived for training the next day- they usually drove up together with Happy, but Katya said she wanted to get some of her own stuff done beforehand, which was perfect because it gave Peter the chance to run to Home Depot- he wasn't sure what he expected to see, but it wasn't this.

Katya- instead of stretching like he normally found her- was beating the living shit out of a boxing bag, enough to cause the heavy tome to swing wildly from it's hook. She must have been doing some sort of self-imposed combinations, as he saw some repeated moves with the occasional added two or three extra. But it was a flurry of punches, kicks, dodges, and slashes- with what Peter could only imagine was an imaginary knife so as not to actually ruin the punching bag- that he'd never seen from her before. And it wasn't even that that struck him so off guard- it was the look on her face. He'd call it angry if it wasn't vacant behind the initial glare; her mind was clearly somewhere else. She hadn't even noticed him come in, despite the fact that the elevator had dinged the announcement of his arrival.

He set the gift bag he'd brought down by the elevator and hesitantly made his way over to where she was. "Myshka?" he tried, cautiously.

She didn't stop, so he raised his voice a bit. "Myshka?"

She moved into a flurry of rotating kicks.

Peter swallowed hard and stepped forward, careful to keep himself on the other side of the bag which he grabbed onto to still it. He had to use a surprising amount of his strength to do so. "Myshka!"

She froze, and it took a second for the look on her face to dissolve. "Pauchok?" she called from the other side before poking her head around the bag. Her face fell into a grin when she saw him. "Hey! I'm sorry, I didn't see you come in."

"Yeah, I realized." he let go of the punching bag. There were dents in it.

She came around from the other side of the bag to give him a brief hug before pulling back to unwrap her gauze, which was bloody. "So, I'll give you a minute to stretch and warm up if you want, and then we can move into either sparring or stance work if you'd like-"

The idea of sparring with what he just saw was a little jarring,but he nodded. He motioned towards the punching bag. "Did this thing like, insult you, or..?"

Katya gave a short, hollow laugh. "No, I just- I just want to keep myself sharp. You know, with…everything."

"So have you just been going ridiculously easy on me this entire time?" Peter joked. Katya made a face of mock indignation.

"Of course not!" Peter held his jokingly skeptical gaze on her until she shrugged. "Okay, yes. Obviously."

"Well thank god you do, because that-" he waved at the bag that was now behind them, "was terrifying."

Katya visibly flinched at his words and reached for the gauze tape, but said nothing. Peter immediately regretted it.

"Not terrifying in like a bad way, I mean, like, impressive, you know? It's cool to watch you-"

"Let's start with some stretches." She interrupted, her tone falling into the slightly detached, professional cadence of a coach rather than a friend. Peter deflated, but did as she asked.

While he was stretching, she moved to the other side of the boxing ring and began to root through a bin that held a bunch of props- batons, balls, some foam stuff- Peter'd never looked through it properly- and she brought out two lengths of rope, about double the length of a forearm, with knots on each end, presumably for grip.

"I figured we could work with these today- it'd be a good idea for you, since you can use your webs in a real battle in place of one of these." she swung one around in a little circle, almost like a cat toy, as she spoke.

"We're going to use those for sparring?"

Katya smiled. "Yep. It's one of my favorite techniques, actually, I've been wanting to use these for a while."

"And you're not just going to beat the shit out of me with one of those knots."

This time, Katya openly laughed. She was slowly warming back into her normal self, which Peter was grateful for. "No, pauchok, these are beginner ropes- these are just for grip. The knots aren't to be used for blunt force."

After he'd stretched for a bit and stood up, bouncing between the balls of his feet to get himself warmed up. She tossed him one of the ropes, which he caught easily.

"So you can actually set that aside for right now, I want to teach you how to use it first- and again, I'm teaching you what I think would work best with your webs, like if you were to make some sort of web rope between your hands in a fight, specifically. But these can do a lot."

Peter nodded and tossed his rope to the corner of the ring.

"Okay," she raised herself onto the balls of her feet as well, "when you feel you're ready, come at me."

"I hate when you say that," Peter was only half-joking-" because I know whatever I do is going to be wrong."

"It's not wrong, you're still learning, and you've gotten a lot better with keeping your form and yourself protected when you swing. You don't do this-" she took a couple of wide, mock swings, exaggerating her moves as if she had noodle arms, "-so much anymore."

Peter laughed hollowly and got into the basic boxing stance he'd been perfecting. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and then jerked towards her, aiming for a kick to her side rather than anything with his hands, which was a new way for him-

Katya effortlessly used the rope to wind it around his ankle at an angle that stretched up his calf and twisted, sending him tumbling to the floor. She'd barely moved, and here he was, on his back. She gave him a hand up. "Do you see what I did?"

"You laid me out like a puppet."

She shoved his shoulder good naturedly, "No, I positioned the rope to entangle you and then used your own momentum against you to throw you off balance. Like-" she mimicked what she'd just done, but to the air. "Do you see?"

Peter nodded.

"Good job attacking from the side though, I'm glad you're beginning to think with your whole body."

"Gotta start sometime,"

Katya gave him a few more- clearly slowed down, so he could see- demonstrations, and then allowed him to pick up his own rope while she discarded hers, attacking him- if you could even call it that- slowly, so that he had time to use the techniques she'd just shown him. She was right, this would be a great way to use his webs.

They picked up the pace, for the better part of an hour, until she was attacking at nearly their normal speed and Peter was managing to disarm her almost every time. She somersaulted off the floor from his latest attack, grinning. "You're doing really well, pauchok." She praised, dusting herself off. "Next time if you want, we can move on to full attacks, and I'll show you what to do when I have my rope, too."

Peter nodded, trying to gather his breath. "That sounds great."

She waved him off to go get some water, but didn't do so herself, instead collecting the discarded ropes and depositing them back into the bin. After he'd drained his water, wiped off his face, and managed to get his breathing under control and she still hadn't joined him, he turned. "Myshka?"

She was standing in the middle of the ring, one hand rubbing her bare wrist where the gauntlet would be, clearly debating something. Finally, she answered. "I have a favor to ask."

Peter stood up, tossing the towel down next to the water bottles. "Shoot."

"I want you to attack me- not with the ropes, not in any specific way, just with anything you can think of- full force. I want you to try to hurt me." she paused, then added, "Just for a few minutes."

Peter debated whether to tell her that that had been what he was always doing, all along- not that he ever wanted to actually hurt her, of course, but that he knew she could handle him- but let it go. "Anyway I want?"

She nodded. "I want you to use your full speed, your agility, everything that you know how- don't focus specifically on any attacks I've taught you or form if it's going to slow you down, I just want to try something." She stopped rubbing her wrist. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

Peter would've said no, if she hadn't sounded so serious about it. So, despite the fact that he was already exhausted, he rejoined her in the ring, but instead of taking the boxing stance they normally started with, he crouched low, hand to the floor, the way Spiderman usually did.

He didn't wait for any sort of countdown, and leapt at her, aiming to grab one of her arms and pull-which she grabbed back, pulled towards herself, and somehow used his other arm to wrap his elbow around the straightened one and twisted, painfully, sending him hurtling towards the ground. He hit the mat, hard, and winded. "I thought you said-" he gulped air, "that you weren't going to hurt me."

Her eyes widened and she crouched next to him. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"That arm wrap was cool though, I want you to teach me that."

She smiled, and helped him up. "I will. But this was a bad idea, I'm sorry. I'll just have to figure something else out."

"Or we can try it next time, before I'm already exhausted."

Katya shook her head. "I don't know, I-" she cut herself off, as if not sure what to say. "I need practice, but I don't have anyone to spar with. Not that you aren't- I don't mean-"

Peter laughed and pulled her into a hug. "It's okay, I know what you mean. You're okay."

She relaxed a bit in his arms. "So far the tracker says she hasn't moved, I just…."

Peter tightened his grip on her momentarily before loosing it all together. "I know." He grabbed her hand and tugged her along with him, "C'mon, I got you a present."

"What?" She laughed, as the two ducked underneath the ropes of the boxing ring to hit the actual floor of the gym. "Why?"

Peter shrugged. "Because." He tugged her towards the gift bag by the elevator, a shiny golden thing he'd picked out at the stationary store across the street from Home Depot that he thought she'd like. "I just wanted to ask you properly."

"Ask me what?" She sounded genuinely perplexed, but was smiling warmly as he handed her the bag, which she collected in both arms.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the Winter Snowball with me."

She looked at him oddly. "I already said I would."

So she did remember their conversation.

"Yeah, but, I just mean…like a date. Like, properly. Go together, the two of us, and match and all that."

Katya began to root through the tissue that covered the top half of the bag, laughing. "We have to match?" her warm, teasing smile was cut short when she saw what was inside. She beamed.

She set the bag on the floor so she could pull the gift out properly. It was a hanging vine, German Ivy in a glass terrarium, that could either be hung up or mounted on a wall. She touched one of the leaves lovingly, her face a perfect mix of awe and affection, like she was looking at an infant. "It's beautiful."

Peter reddened, his feet scuffing the floor. "I know you like plants, so I figured you could, you know, put that in your room or something."

She raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I like plants?"

Peter raised his own eyebrow in return. "I don't know, it's obvious- the way you touch every tree we pass, and all of the doodles on your homework are vines, or flowers, and your lunchbox has flowers, and you're always saying how pretty certain plants we pass by are-" He realized he was rambling, but it wasn't like it wasn't true. Peter'd honestly wondered why she didn't have any sort of greenery in her room already, though perhaps it was because it didn't match the whole posh-and-chrome-feel of the compound itself. She leant up to kiss him.

"I love it." she said simply, her fingers grazing each leaf. "And of course I"ll go to the Winterball- Snow winter- whatever- with you." She might as well have added 'duh' with the tone of voice she'd used, as if it were a dumb question. Peter hadn't expected a different answer, but found himself rubbing the back of his neck with nerves all the same.

"Great! So, maybe then Friday, I'll, er, find some way to pick you up-"

"It makes no sense for you to come all the way out here just for us to go back down the same way," Katya muttered, laughter fluttering in her voice all the same.

"Still. I'll meet you here at like..six thirty-ish? Because it starts at seven but nothing ever really gets going for a while after, anyway, and, erm….yeah." He finished lamely, but he brightened. "It'll be a lot of fun."

He saw her glance to the corner of the boxing ring where their towels and water bottles were- where he knew the tracker was, too- before turning back to him and grinned. "Yeah, It'll be a lot of fun."