I hope those who read this find it enjoyable 'cause...well, I did XD

*******JP********

"Argh! There's no way I can hold this!"

"C'mon, you're almost there!"

"No! It's too long!"

"You're thinking about it too hard, Jack!"

"Ow! My rib just popped out of place!"

"...You don't really expect me to buy that..."

With a final groan of exhaustion, Jack Spicer let his body drop to the floor, rubbing his elbows as he rolled onto his back. He had been trying to do planks for thirty minutes now, and after the hour of jumping jacks, crunches, lunges, and sparring matches, he felt like his body was going to break.

"I...can't...feel my arms," Jack gasped.

"Mmm-hmm," Stryker Young (Jack's new friend, new roommate, and now new martial arts instructor) murmured, looking down at the stopwatch they'd been using.

"I think my abs are on fire!" Jack continued, gripping his sides. "Did I improve any?"

"Yep,' Stryker said. "Held it three seconds longer than you did last time."

"What's that put me at?"

Stryker smirked.

"Five seconds."

"Woo!" Jack cheered wearily, lifting an arm up in victory before letting it fall back near his head. "New record!"

Stryker just laughed and helped the dorky redhead up. It'd been a week since the two had become partners, and because there hadn't been any new Shen Gong Wu alerts, they'd been passing the time working out and going over karate exercises.

"Alright, one more time," Stryker said, still in trainer mode. "Show me a T-stance."

Jack shifted so his feet were shoulder length apart, perpendicular to each other, and his knees were bent.

"Good. Now a horse-riding stance."

He moved so his feet were both facing the same way, two shoulderwidths apart, and on the same line. His knees were bent farther.

"Okay. Front stance."

Jack placed one foot farther behind him, straightening it, and widened his stance a little more. He grinned.

"I feel like a ninja," he said.

"Look like one too," Stryker said, smirking. "You got the basics down pretty quick."

He suddenly punched out at Jack, aiming for his face. Jack used his forearm to push his fist away and stepped closer, throwing his elbow at the side of Stryker's head. He stopped an inch short.

"Nice!" the Mohawked boy praised as Jack backed away. "I didn't even teach you that one yet."

"I saw one of the monks practice it once," Jack said easily, stretching his arms over his head. "Man am I sore! Your training is killing me, Stryke!"

"Hey, no pain, no gain, right?" Stryker quoted with a grin. "But I think that's good for the day-"

"Hallelujah!" Jack cried, running past him and jumping onto his couch.

Stryker chuckled and went to the workbench, looking over the new plans they'd drawn up. He picked up one of the rolled papers.

"Check this out," he said, tossing the parchment to Jack. "Any thoughts?"

Jack unrolled and studied the drawing carefully, fingering some of the details.

"Know how to sew?" he asked.

"No, but, maybe your mom-"

"Mom can't sew to save her life," Jack laughed. "Guess if we get instructions we could just learn."

"Yeah, maybe. So, what do you think?"

"I like it," Jack said, rolling the paper back up. "But you don't have to piggyback off my stuff if you don't want to."

"Hey, your design, your team, only makes sense if I follow your plan."

Jack stared down at the writing on the paper. It'd been so long since he last looked at it that he hadn't even recognized it as his. He unrolled it again and stared at the sort of childish drawing of four faceless people wearing a lot of the same stuff he was. He'd made it when he met Wuya and Katnappe and all them. His stomach flipped at the memory of how they'd laughed at it and brushed it off as him just being stupid.

"You don't think that..." he started nervously. "Some of my ideas are...stupid?"

Stryker turned and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning against the workbench.

"You're not being self-conscious about your eye slash thing again, are you?"

Jack touched just underneath where his signature eye make up was. It was one of the many things the others had picked on.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I...I was actually thinking of...you know, not doing it anymore-"

"Don't you dare," Stryker ordered, narrowing his eyes at him. "It's original, it's cool, it's you. If you stop wearing it just because of what those idiots out there think of you, then you're no better than me!"

His comment made Jack grin. About a week ago he'd said something similar to Stryker regarding his uncle, who knew his words could mean something for him too?

"Okay, I guess," Jack decided, his grin shifting to a smirk as he stood. "But are you going to wear it too?"

"Uh..." Stryker started, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I uh...don't think I'll pull it off."

"Uh-huh," Jack retorted, tossing the paper back to him. "You're probably right. I set high standards."

Stryker rolled his eyes and went back to the plans as Jack picked up his tool box. He shouted when the latch broke and the lid popped open, spilling the contents all over the floor with loud crashing. Stryker's Mohawk suddenly sprang up straight as he stiffened, his eyes wide; Jack watched as he disappeared from view, as if vaporized. He snorted.

"S-Sorry, Stryke..." he said, trying to hold back his laughter.

He waited for a response, then saw a tiny, black and green garter snake with a fallen Mohawk slink around the workbench and lift its head, his beady green eyes glaring up at him as Jack keeled over with suppressed hysteria.

"It's not funny!" the snake's tiny voice cried up at him.

Jack fell onto the floor as he giggled uncontrollably. About two days ago, Jack had tried to wake Stryker up so they could work on the jet. After trying for twenty minutes to get him up, Jack resorted to using a blow horn...and he discovered how little control Styker really had over his reptilian form.

"Y-You're...you're," Jack choked out, not even able to look at Stryker. "You're so adorable!"

"Shut up! I am not!" Stryker's tiny voice shouted as he angrily flicked his tail. "You keep saying that and I'll bite you!"

The threat only made Jack laugh harder. Stryker sighed. Jack was getting a real kick out of this, and-he had to admit-with good reason. But if he couldn't gain control over his shapeshifting it could prove to be a problem in showdowns.

"Ya done laughing yet?" he asked Jack, cringing at how chipmunk he sounded. "'Cause you said the next time this happened you'd try to help me figure it out."

Jack struggled to sit up and nodded, still gasping for air.

"Okay...yeah...I'm sorry," he said, trying to stop laughing. "Not really cool for me to laugh at your problems when you don't laugh at mine."

"Well, yours aren't as humorous as mine," Stryker said dejectedly, curling into what appeared to be a sitting position. "Any ideas?"

Jack thought for a second, then turned to all the tools on the floor.

"We could try scaring you again," he suggested, picking up a wrench. "Maybe then it'll turn you back."

"I don't know...'cause if I know it's coming I won't be as scared and-"

Without warning Jack hit the floor with the wrench; Stryker jolted again, jumping into a ball form. Jack waited but nothing appeared to happen.

"Well, that didn't work..."

He stopped when Stryker uncurled himself. He'd grown about a foot and acquired a hood of skin around his head.

"Uh...well," Jack started, searching for a helpful comment. "Now you're...a king snake."

Stryker glared at him.

"Sssssssssshhhhhhhhut up!"