2019-09-01 - The Only Time You Get to Punch a Cop

A lot of boxers have a lot of physical labor jobs which means they start at the sawmills and on construction jobs around 7am. Traditionally it's why serious gyms like this one are often found open at 5:30 like they do. It's also why Joey still keeps a got in the back and a small room so he can sleep mid-day and re-open for when folks get out of shift.

This is also what he has an afternoon manager for. Woken up, and showered, and is currently propped up in the bleachers in just his shorts and boots with a towel over his shoulder. Silver chain hangs around his neck with what Ruiz would know is his ma's graduation ring on it remembered from a very heated discussion over it once seven years ago when lockup almost lost it in his personal effects. Not a pretty day. Seems like he's dropping a text before starting a run or his own work out.

A cop's hours, of course, are at the mercy of their shifts. And today, de la Vega's on graveyard. Which means, naturally, that he's hitting the gym while the day's still got some sun.

He rolls in dressed for a workout: faded black tee shirt with Seattle PD emblazoned across the front, track pants, and shoes he kicks off near the door. He's got a duffle across one shoulder, a water bottle out that he's in the midst of taking a slug from, and a ballcap with the brim tugged low, that might make him not immediately identifiable. As if Joey gets a lot of big-shouldered Mexicans wandering through here.

Joey will point out the letters PD don't often roll through here without some lights flashing, but that's Elm St. for you. Out of habit Joey Kelly pops an eyebrow and a glance up bring a pause with a sigh and a slight tightening of his traps with a sigh of "Chriiiiist." He kicks off his text and locks his screen. Sharp green eyes take in the bits worth noting: casual, t-shirt, no visible holster which reduces but doesn't eliminate much. Cops are never off-duty, just less dressy. He greets, "De la Vega."

Nope. No holster. Gun's in the truck, which means he's not here on official business. Though that could mean a variety of alternatives. "Kelly," isn't accompanied by a smile so much as a baring of teeth that was intended to be friendlier than it came out. He drops his bag to one side and pulls a roll of tape out of it, dark eyes ticking toward the guy in the bleachers occasionally. "Slow day?"

Joey seems to take this at face value. His jaw sets and the words come out surprisingly casual. "Mornings usually have heavier traffic before people go to work. Lot of afternoons. Work. Family time." Not for him, but for others. He looks at the tape and while he never finished High School, is pretty damn observant about people. Half joking he asks, "That for the bags or me?" Which, while there are interpretations, might be an invite to glove up. let's be real, it's the only time one cna take a swing at a cop without getting in deep shit for it.

Joey doesn't miss much. Neither does de la Vega. You could say it's part of their job, or you could say it's most of it. "Family time," he repeats, with a huff of amusement. He wraps his hands like he's done it a hundred thousand times before. Tight, but not constricting. It's ripped off with his teeth once he's done the one hand, and then he starts on the other. "Depende de usted. You've got some time to go a few rounds?"

Joey considers it and pushes himself to a slide off the bench and takes a couple steps down and walks off. He doesn't answer, but halfway to that office he says, still waking up, "You think I'd pass that up Abuelo?" There's the faintest grin as he drops his phone on his desk and grabs his tape and his gloves off the wall next to the tackle box that serves as the same damn medkit the place has had since '63. He wades back out and splays his fingers to start taping up. Squinting at the light coming through the bay door and the overcast beyond to vent the heat out he looks back musing, "Didn't think with all hell breaking loose you'd have the time. Must miss me."

"Por supuesto que te extraño, Kelly," murmurs the cop while taping up his right hand. Looks more like a convict than a LEO with all that ink, and the way he moves; like a hungry stray, itching to hurt someone. "I'll always make the time for you." The GHPD's certainly been kept on their toes lately, and with de la Vega doing a lot of the legwork coordinating investigations and shaking trees, well. Surely he's earned himself some time to blow off steam.

Joey does not speak Spanish, or if he does at all, has not let on. The vaguest look of amusement holds. Slowly the ink on his fingers that spell out LAST on one hand, and WORD on the other get taped over and he gets his gloves on. Same ones he inherited from his uncle Jimmy. Seems like the Chief and the Collector are going to step it up today. "See," He says in response to Ruiz making time for him, "How come you sayin that is not making me feel any better here." And with that he steps up into the ring. It's not elegant but it's formidable and has enough blood, sweat, and swearing in there to be its own historic site. He's not an idiot though and the mouth-guard goes in. Because dental is a bitch, hurts like hell, and is way out of his paygrade.

Ruiz's ballcap is tugged off and tossed atop his duffle, and he pauses when he sees Joey's mouthguard go in. So that's how they're going to play this. Chuckling, he crouches to fish his own out of his bag, fits it in, and pushes back to his feet. Eyes on Joey, he moves in slow then, muscle taut throughout his shoulders and arms, he prowls over like an old, mean slumdog sizing up a younger, more deadly one. Guard held low and loose to start, and a fist held out to tap.

It's Erin's second time to come into this particular gym this week. Again, she's dressed in sweat pants that ride low on her waist, these are black, and the shirt doesn't quite overlap. (It's white) A small hoodie is zipped over her shirt. It still screams expensive even if casual. A bag is over her shoulder and she takes a look around again once inside, just standing off to the side while Joey and the Captain are speaking.

Joey is known to play for keeps. He's still in his prime, and while not green, he's grown up tempered, angry, hungry, and just mean. That aside a good coach has control and doesn't debilitate their students, and Joey Kelly has proven a surprisingly effective one over the last decade. It's a work in progress.

Likewise, fun is fun, but unless Felix told him something Ruiz doesn't know it's just playtime right? Punching some buttons? Right? Does he know Erin's there? Likely. Maybe not. She's small, quiet, and instinctivly his focus is on the old dog that still has one hell of a god damned bite. "So," he notes throught he mouthguard, "You workin some things out?" tap leather glove to leather glove. At least there's no personalized hostility in it.

A person could learn a lot by watching. Boxing matches or even spars weren't something Erin usually spent her time watching. Things were different now and she finds a place near the mats where the two are and while trying to remain unobtrusive, she's not trying to remain unseen, or to spy or anything. Her own bag is placed at her feet and she leans a back against the wall intently studying the moves of the two. One younger, one older, but both seeming equally matched. If anyone else were around she may be placing bets!

Ruiz knows playing for keeps. And he knows, surely, what Joey's about. He's watched him in the ring enough times, under the guise of being here to work out. It's been years, of course, since the police captain was in his prime. "Just staying sharp, Kelly. No va a ser un problema, verdad?" He slinks off to one side and throws a couple of easy jabs to start. Just getting warm, really, and feeling out the way the younger man moves. He's aware, too, of Erin slipping through the door, but keeps his eyes on his opponent. As he ought.

Joey absolutely notes someone sitting down. Lesson one: keep your eyes on the threat, but know where shit is. Hence Ruiz not looking and Joey giving a "Sup. You're back." By way of greeting to de la Vega, but for Erin.

Lesson Two: Keep your ass moving. Preferably with the rest of yourself attached. If he's soaking the shot he prepares to move with it to pull the impact of the momentum out. The feint is also there trying to bait the old dog into overextending himself and leaving an opening which... he doesn't easily fall for at all.

Joey could be bent out of shape about that, but really? There's a rush there. Some challenge to push him. Ruiz showing him how he thinks, and how he knows that trick. Joey experienced enough to ask, but not landing the trap like he wants to. Just like he knows not to name names. While there's natural animosity there, it doesn't mean game fails to respect game.

Where footwork is Joey's not giving up anything he won't miss and loves to push the man when he can into defensive. Knees bend and contrary to movies would have one believe, good boxers work down the soft targets: tire out the lats, breadbasket when one can. And the jabs up top to keep everyone awake. He's fast, but the Chief is still like trying to whittle through a concrete barricade.

"You know I don't speak Spanish but I love it when you say those nice things about me." His head tilts a bit to the side and when the glove does come in he doubles down , soaks, and strikes for the weak spot. The truth of fighting seems to be: If you are in the ring you are going to get hit. What opportunity will we turn that into?

"He said it's not going to be a problem. Right?" Erin chimes in with a crooked smile, pushing off the wall to get closer. "I did come back, I'm serious about a job here. I'd love to be able to fight like either one of you one day." She may be a distraction, talking to them, but she continues anyway. "The one and only time I threw a punch was messy. He deflected and I got a bloody nose from face planting into a table." She looks over Ruiz holding his own. "Buena forma." Good form. Likely understandable in any language.

Situational awareness is critical for a man like Ruiz, in his line of work. He's always got half an eye on the door, half a sense for where people are in the room and what they're doing; the habit's been drilled into him from the military, and reinforced by his time as a beat cop.

He knows Joey's dangerous. He knows there's more to him than his easy manner and sweet talk. He knows that one wrong move, and the younger man could pound him into a bloody pulp, and maybe it's that danger that he craves. Sometimes you've got to know when to avoid harm, and sometimes you've got to know when to take it square, like he does with that hit to his weak spot. Why? So he knows how hard the man will hit. Data.

The cop flashes a grin at the point scored, and doubles back in for a few fast, hard slugs aimed high. He's quick for such a powerfully-built man, but not as quick as his quarry. "You still haven't learned? I will teach you a little, if you like." Floating ribs, get his guard down so he can follow up with a vicious cross to his jaw.

Joey is so not giving the Cap the satisfaction of throwing shoulder and all his intent into it. Is that it? Is there a concern from the little Yard Boss that the cop is trying to see how long to wear him down. What to plan for, if he can find the button to make him tip past his own control? Maybe. And he's not giving it to him just like he's going to stand there and taunt the old guard dog by coming a little close. Some people need that: that rush of knowing that they won't know they've gone too far out into a storm before the thunder rolls in and the lightening strikes and the adrenaline is racing. But what a fucking great place to live.

Where Erin's conconrned, he braces and tap-tap-slugs his senior while soaking that incoming shot to his kidney by dropping his elbow.

Disengage. He's got the glove back out arm's reach with a nod. "Sec." Breathers are good. There's abell for a damn reason. Looking down at his arms he notes that he's built up a sweat and nods. nice. "Yeah? good. Also? THat guys'a dick. Don't go off that. You tried. That's what counts. We'll get you knowing how the pieces fit together adn what'chu gotta do." Those sharp green eyes find de la Vega as if hving a quiet mutual conversation of agreement before he tells Erin, "Don't give up somethin less you gonna get somethin." Is he an ass? yes. He's like an angry damn possum but he's got his moments. "Glad you came back."

There's a wince or two when one or the other connects but the lessons from it were valuable enough. Erin remains close enough for interaction with them but she does try and not disturb them at the same time. "I did sign up for your classes and I also want to pay for a year membership, if you go by the year. I won't be able to stay too much longer today, I've got a meeting with my grandmother and great uncle in less than an hour. I can come back afterwards though, if you're going to be around." That is the bulk of her intrusion except for a concerned look towards Ruiz as he tries to get one-up on Joey.

Ruiz, maybe, just likes the feel of hitting someone who can take it. Or maybe he's trying to rile the young dog up. It's hard to say; his face is fairly inscrutable, and gives away little. The pair exchange a few blows in rapid succession, nothing that's going to leave a permanent mark. And when he's asked to hold up, the Mexican sways back two steps, then turns and prowls a slow circle, rolling out his shoulders.

The hem of his tee shirt is dragged up and over his face briefly, exposing a network of scars both fresh and old, and yet more ink scrawled over a body that's muscular and fit in places, but gone a little soft around the midsection. He's definitely in better shape, though, than your average middle aged guy riding a desk. "Miss Addington," he greets, panting lightly. His eyes come up to her for a moment, then away again. "Still need the ride? I think Kelly and I are about done here."

Joey nods slowly and nods slowly watching her and watching for the things she's not saying. He's also certainly not going to fucking say no to cash from an Addington account for lessons. Evaluating maybe that she's got her reasons. Hell, he can respect those reasons. Meeting the the Grandmother. Taking a deep breath he nods. "Yeah. Call the number. I'm in the area." He pauses and hesitates adding casually. "Heard about your friend. Glad they're alright. Breathin's the first step." Looking to Ruiz he eyes the cop. His muscles are yelling at him pretty good. Feels alive. He ain't complining at all about that. It's all a game as brutal as it is intricate. "Good round. yeah we cna break. You're gonna wanna get that stretched out before you go."

A neutral party of the two by looks of things, Erin gives each one equal watch time, just to learn different techniques. She doesn't fool herself into thinking she could learn it all just from watching though. Far from it. Lifting her eyes to Ruiz she gives a hesitant nod along with an apologetic look. "I'm not brave enough to go alone. I'd like to think you're just a text away in case William.. or Uncle Thomas.." she shrugs, not exactly sure where to take that.

When Joey addresses her she easily agrees. "I will do that. Hopefully this meeting won't last too long and I'll be able to come back. It all depends on so many things." Again unable to expound on anything she gives another apologetic look, this time to Joey. "Thank you. He's alive and able to communicate through text. I know his girl was happy about that too." A brave smile is given over and she nudges her bag with her foot. "Is there a locker here I could leave that instead of carrying it around with me?"

Joey pauses and tilts his head, not excited to go out to Bay St. but offers, "If you need a ride ... lemme know." He gestures to Ruiz with gloved hand. "He'll vouch I'm an asshole, but I'm not that kinda asshole."

Joey gestures to teh lockers over there. "I got a lock you can have in case you don't have one." And with that he climbs out of the ropes and hops down, grabs his towel and gets his gloves off so he can get her going.

"I am pretty sure you put on a good show of being an asshole. But I've yet to see it. Men who offer out self defense classes for free to women can't be all bad." Erin smiles a little easier, "Thank you for the offer on the ride. It's just not conducive to my welfare to be driving my own car around right now. The Captain is going to take me." She does do the whole putting the gym bag away in a locker that gets assigned to her and she leaves one fo the keys with Joey and takes one herself. "I'll see you later. Thanks again." With that, she leaves for her meeting.