"We're going to start with the basics," Steve said as Jak stood with him on the sparring mat. She nodded eagerly, ponytail bobbing behind her.
She rarely had time to work out, so the sports bra and cropped yoga pants she wore had only ever been used once or twice. It was exciting to get a chance to exercise in the outfit, which she'd purchased on a whim after seeing Natasha Romanoff wearing something similar and kicking someone's butt.
"Punch me," he gestured to his face.
"Are you… are you going to block?" She asked warily. Punching Captain America was definitely against the rules of her probation.
"Just punch me," he nodded encouragingly, "I can take it."
"Okay…" she made a fist, remembering that she at least needed to keep her thumb on the outside so she didn't break it. She'd never needed to fight without the use of magic in all of her long life. Her mother didn't want her to brawl like a man, so she'd never learned much about non-magical violence. And when she'd used her powers to fight, her mother had always been using her own abilities to guide her. Or, more accurately, to control her. Jak had never been in a fight when she wasn't being used as a puppet.
"Go on."
"Sorry in advance," she winced and swung her fist at his face. He moved his face to the left at the last second and her fist brushed past his cheek harmlessly.
"The only thing you should be sorry for is how pitiful that punch was," he raised a brow, "Again."
Jak rolled her shoulders back, trying to release some of the tension in them and threw another punch. Steve dodged again.
"Again."
Swing.
Miss.
"Again."
Swing.
Miss.
"Again. Come on Jak, you've got this."
"Since when do you call me Jak?" She took a deep breath through her nose and swung again. He caught her fist in his palm this time and pulled her forward. She stumbled close to him and caught a whiff of a sweet ashy smell. He pushed her back and she hit the mat.
"Keep going until you hit my face," he motioned for her to stand up.
Jumping to her feet, Jak studied him for a moment, right fist raised. She threw a punch and then immediately followed with a punch from her left fist. Steve just barely got out of the way in time, her left hand getting so close as to hit a strand of his hair.
"Better," he smiled, "Again."
They continued with this dance for five minutes before Jak finally managed to clip his cheek. It didn't really even count as a hit, and it clearly didn't hurt him, but she grinned with excitement anyway.
"Ha! Gotcha!" She loosened her fists and put her hands on her hips as she took a few deep breaths, "Wow. I am very much out of shape."
"Yes, you are," Steve shook his head, "We have much work to do."
"Well, let's keep at it," she shook out her arms, "Teach me some more, Captain."
"Now that I know what we're working with, let me show you the right way to hit someone," he placed his hand on her bicep, fingertips cold. She felt a chill run through her and did her best to focus, despite her nerves sending frazzled messages to her brain. He took a step closer, standing right behind her as he lifted her arm and ran his hand across her skin. His breath was on her ear as he looked over her shoulder. She briefly wondered what her mother would say to see her standing so close to a man.
"Alright, Jaklyn, I got the last bulb changed, let's get to… oh," Steve's voice said from over by the door.
Jaklyn's eyes widened and she jerked away from the man standing next to her. She stared at him and then the man standing in the doorway, looking between them in confusion before it dawned on her what was going on. She pointed at the one who'd just been training her.
"Loki."
That Steve grinned wickedly and his face morphed into Loki's sharp features.
The Steve by the door crossed his arms and gave a disappointed look.
"I thought you might prefer to learn from someone a bit more experienced than the dear Captain," Loki told her, bowing slightly, "You could certainly use the help."
"Funny," Steve said, stepping farther into the room. "I seem to remember you surrendering last time you and I fought one on one, Loki."
Jaklyn would have paid quite a bit to see that security footage.
"All part of the plan," Loki assured, "I was trained in combat before even your great-grandfather was born, Rogers. If anyone is going to teach our dear little Jaklyn how to defend herself, it ought to be me."
"No," she crossed her arms, "I'm training with Steve."
Loki turned and gave her a confused and slightly judgemental look. When she didn't say anything else, he scoffed.
"We made a bargain," he mirrored her crossed arms and tilted his head, "You agreed to let me teach you."
"Magic," she countered, "I agreed to let you teach me magic."
"Magical and combat training are basically the same thing," he dismissed.
"Not with this they're not," she tapped the dampening cuff on her wrist, "Steve, let's get started, shall we?"
"When the cuff is removed, it would make more sense for me to have already started your training. I will be the one-"
"Pretty sure she already told you what she wanted," Steve interrupted, stepping closer to Loki, "When a lady says no, you need to listen."
Jaklyn almost felt excited to see the two of them arguing. About her. She knew it was wrong. She knew she shouldn't play them against each other. It was wrong and mean. Not to mention it was only asking for trouble to consider either of them as a romantic prospect in any capacity. One had killed her father and the other had tried to enslave the planet. Neither was a good option.
She watched them throw disgruntled words back and forth, arguing over what she wanted and what would be best for her. Though it was gratifying and thrilling to witness, it soon became clear to her that they'd forgotten she was there and were now only defending their own pride.
So she took a few steps back. Then another few. And another. And then she was at the door and walking down the hall. While she could still hear their voices, she made puppets with her hands and sarcastically moved their "mouths" to the words.
"Cute leggings," Natasha Romanoff said as she passed Jak in the hall. "Getting in a workout?"
"Well," Jak pointed back in the direction she'd come from, "I thought I was going to, but the roosters are crowing a bit too much."
The super spy assassin looked sympathetic. "Which ones?"
"Captain Rogers and Loki are having a bit of a lover's spat," Jaklyn laughed scornfully, "Steve was supposed to teach me some self-defense stuff, but now he's too busy chatting."
"I'm not doing anything at the moment," Natasha shrugged, "Let's grab another sparring room and go over the basics."
"Really?" Jak smiled. She'd always thought Natasha hated her. The assassin was so cool and aloof-seeming. She always left chip crumbs on the couch too, which had made Jak biased against her.
"I'm closer to your size than either of those neanderthals anyway," Natasha nodded, "It would make more sense for me to train you."
"That's true!" Jak beamed, "Thank you. I really appreciate it."
"No problem. I've been meaning to talk to Wanda about magicless fighting, would it bother you if she joined us too?"
Jak felt a weight lift from her shoulders. With Natasha and Wanda, she wouldn't have to think about complicated feelings. She could just learn.
Twenty minutes later, the three of them were taking turns judo-throwing each other on the mats of a sparring room. The exercise felt good and laughing with the other women felt even better. No wonder her mother had never wanted her to make friends with girls her own age. Jaklyn felt powerful, comfortable, and independent. Everything her parents never wanted her to be.