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the gym ; monday afternoon

It felt like it'd been awhile since Flick had been down to the gym. In reality, it hadn't been that long and he'd been getting exercise other ways but still, it was time to fall back into that routine so he didn't end up getting too doughy and soft. He'd save those moments for when he was behind closed doors.

Usually, he defaulted to flat out boxing when it came to the gym and the heavy bag but he was going a little different today. The Brazilian jujitsu classes he'd taken back at the academy had been in his head lately so that's what he was using today. It meant using his body differently, working muscles that didn't tend to get worked as much when he was just flat out punching the crap out of something or someone.

Which didn't take away how much he liked just punching the crap of some people, of course. It was a good time. He just felt like switching it up. He figured he'd slide into Krav Maga techniques in awhile just to keep that side of things fresh as well.

And then maybe he'd go to straight boxing. End with the fun stuff, why not?

[Open gym, open post]

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She had no intention of getting bucked off him. She wasn't going to stop squeezing his wrists, either. Her nails were kind of digging into his skin, too. That wasn't even intentional. It was just a by-product of the squeezing and having long nails.

"Surrender."

She really didn't want to make sure he stayed down.

Yep, he could feel her nails making themselves at home in his skin. Made him wince a little more. But, he kept trying to move underneath her.

"Fuck. No."

So, there was her answer. He even tried using some strength to push his arms up against her wrists. Just something to keep himself moving.

She wanted to feel surprised. But she really didn't.

There were still tiny droplets of her blood falling on his neck, here and there.

"Really?"

He was as stubborn as a frigging mule. And he was still trying to buck her off or, if that failed, twist his body enough that she slid off. He was still trying.

"Really," he said defiantly.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. Then she let his wrists go and shifted off him, already moving to stand up.

"Then I'm doing it for you."

She wasn't going to be putting him in the hospital just so he could have the satisfaction of not surrendering.

"Are you serious?" Flick asked incredulously. "You started this, Isabelle. You wanted to do this with me. You don't get to surrender for me. I don't surrender to you or anyone. No, you finish it."

He scrambled to his feet angrily.

Isabelle shot him an incredulous look back, wiping some of the blood off her upper lip with the back of her hand.

"Uh, no."

"Then, you can surrender for yourself because you don't get to speak for me," Flick told her, shaking his head. "There's no chance in hell you'd let me just surrender for you so you don't get to do that for me. No."

He swiped absently at the blood she'd dripped on his neck with a few fingers.

Isabelle's look turned from incredulous to withering.

"Would you rather I put you in the hospital instead?"

Why was she even asking? She knew the answer.

"Don't give me that look," Flick said, shaking his head. "I told you how I was way before this. Way before and you knew and you still wanted to spar. You suggested it. If you don't wanna finish it, fine. Whatever."

He brushed his fingers under his own nose, scratching the itch that dried blood was causing.

"But that's on you, not me. And you'd get pissed off if I tried to speak for you so don't act like you're surprised. So yeah, if it's a choice of you knocking my ass out or taking my choice away. Yeah, I'd rather you knocked me out but that's not even a given. I'm not that easy to put down."

"It is a given, Flick," Isabelle told him, hands on her hips now. There was a blood smear drying under her nose, and some swelling happening on her cheek. "It is. You are good, and you are reckless, but you are a mundane."

And even without extra Marks on her, she was a Shadowhunter.

"When I had my hands on your wrists, I could have broken them."

"It wouldn't have been the first time that's happened."

He'd endured plenty of broken bones in his life but that was neither here nor there.

"I don't doubt that you're stronger than me, Isabelle," he told her, shaking his head. "I get it. You're a different breed. But, if I'm a mundane, then why start with me? What were you hoping to accomplish? Did you want me to say 'mercy' for some reason?"

"What were you hoping to accomplish?" Isabelle retorted. "Why would you fight me, when you know I'm stronger and you know you won't actually give in before you're dead or unconscious? Did you think for a second I would actually go that far?"

"Why are you turning this around on me?" Flick asked, scowling. "To answer your questions, no, I didn't think you'd kill me. Knocking me out was a possibility that entered my mind after you fucking headbutted me and made my nose bleed. But that's only because you are strong. I didn't expect you to knock me out but I knew it could happen."

He wrinkled his nose and pulled a face at the pain that caused. He'd be sore for a few days there.

"And I fought you because you asked in your own special way," Flick told her. "It's nice to have a challenge every once in awhile. I like going against long odds, okay? Your turn."

Isabelle held up her hands.

"I fight, this is what I do," she said. "I think it's interesting, and fun." And that still wasn't why she'd laughed in the middle of a fight. "I like doing it. And I like opponents who aren't afraid to hit me."

"I'm not afraid of you, period." He didn't care if she could take him apart. "But, fine. We're agreed on that. You still don't get to surrender for me. You'd be a little ticked off if, after I landed a shot on you, I just decided to tell you that I'm surrendering for you, right? Bet you wouldn't accept that."

Isabelle rolled her eyes again. "By the Angel, are you still stuck on my wording? All I meant was that I was ending the fight because I don't want to punch you out, and that was the only probable outcome."

She waved one of her hands.

"Fine, I take back my surrendering on your behalf. Happy?"

"Yes, I'm thrilled," he said sarcastically, rolling his own eyes. "And that's all you had to say, Isabelle. You sounded like you were making my choice for me and I don't like that."

From anyone.

"If I misread it, I apologize," he added. "Contrary to what you might be thinking, I don't get off on pain. Not that kind of pain, at least, so I wasn't angling for you to beat me up until I was a swollen mess."

"You still come off looking like a self-destructive idiot."

And that was her honest opinion, even if it was blunt. Wasn't her problem, though. She wiped at her nose again, but the bleeding had stopped several moments ago. All that was left was dried blood.

Flick stared at her for a few moments, trying to reign some reignited anger in so he wouldn't start yelling at her. He breathed.

"If I was a self-destructive idiot, I would have found ways to get the shit kicked out of me way before today," Flick pointed out. "And we don't count the times when I went home and couldn't freaking avoid getting hurt."

He rubbed his face and eyes, scratching off some dried blood from his lips and chin now.

"I'm not self-destructive." Or an idiot but he knew that could be debated.

"I said you come off looking like you are."

Not that he actually was. The difference was slight but it was there to give him the benefit of the doubt. She was examining her gear, the sleeve of her rune-covered shirt.

"But you did tell me to finish it, because you don't surrender to me or anyone else."

"I don't."

And he wasn't going to apologize for that.

"I spent my childhood doing that and it did nothing for me," he told her. "But, I am sorry if I put you in a situation where I made you think I wanted you to hurt me. I told you to finish it, yes. I get why you didn't but at the time, I just didn't want to be the one to give it up."

"Sometimes you have to be the one to give it up, Flick," Isabelle said.

And left it at that. It was more of an idle comment than anything else, anyway. Not because she didn't believe it, but because she didn't think the idea behind it would take.

"Easier said than done."

Because it was. It really was. He could see her point, he could, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to practice what she'd just preached.

Flick slid his fingers through his hair, already feeling a goose egg forming where he'd smacked it against the ground. He frowned and rubbed the spot gingerly.

Isabelle knew it was hard. She wanted to be the best. She wanted to always emerge from situations victorious, and one day she'd die doing her job. But she'd also been taught to recognize and accept when it was better to cut her losses and run.

Maybe she didn't always manage to practice what she preached, either, but she was closer to getting there than he was, she was sure.

"Mmm hmm."

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