How much beefcake can an Aesir lift, if an Aesir could lift beefcake?

[captain_rogers]

As little as he could really say what he expected to come of his search for Bucky, if there was any hope of finding something of his friend there in the man who had been through more than he could have imagined in the long years he himself had slept, Steve could not help but feel himself getting frustrated at his own inability to make it all better. He wasn't a fool, he understood that it would be no easy matter. That as much as he might want to be able to snap his fingers and have Bucky be himself again, that aggravating, steady force in his life who had picked him up and dusted him off in that Brooklyn back alley and never once failed him, such things were impossible.

How many times had he read the file Natasha had given him? How many times had he attempted to read around the blacked out sections that detailed missions in an attempt to better understand what had been done to his friend?

He could not think of what he had found there in the meticulous notes regarding procedures and experiments and not feel sick. No more than he could look back to Bucky stepping out of the shadows while he had been out on a run and not want to clench his fists at the sheer helplessness he had felt at being able to make things right. A helplessness he felt at that very moment.

Where he would not retreat into himself and attempt to forget the world or the fact that he did have friends there in the Nexus, Steve decided that the gym and a weight bag were his best bets at shaving off something of his frustration. There was a sort of calm found there in wrapping his fists tight, remembering those long ago lessons Bucky had given him on technique and style. As there was in stepping up to the bag and finding a rhythm to the strikes of his fists against the canvas, to feeling his body pull in familiar ways, to the in and out of his breathing as he attempted to forget the difficulties of the world for canvas and flesh and bone.

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[bornagoddess]

Sif had not returned to the hotel for weeks. At least for weeks on Asgard. when she had finally deemed herself sated of Asgard's many pleasures and of the comfort of home, she had started wondering just how long she had been gone by Nexus standards. She wondered how each of her newfound friends were doing, whether Loki was still around or had gone to meet his destiny...ultimately, Sif had to entertain the possibility that none of them were around anymore. Years could have gone by for all she knew.

When she had stepped through the door in her balcony, bag full of items over her shoulder, Sif wasn't sure what to expect. Upon emerging on the Nexus everything looked quite the same - even her note was still plastered on the door to her room only slightly dustier than she had left it. She had made a point to find out how many days had gone by before attempting to contact her friends, and so that night Sif had spoken to no one. Today she donned her very own Asgardian clothing - a tunic and soft leather leggings - and headed to the training hall before anything else.

There, a smile crept into her well-rested face as she laid eyes upon the Captain's back (and backside, marvelous both of them) as he punched a bag mercilessly. She watched a moment before stepping forward, uncrossing her arms. "Might be more pleasant to try that against a real opponent."

[captain_rogers]

Where he was methodical in his strikes, Steve was anything but predictable in the pattern he chose to deliver each blow. He rolled between them easily, mixing and switching as he went to follow one pattern with another before switching to a third, back to the first, another change up. As familiar and old as a 1-2-1-2 pattern was of quick left jabs and hard right hits, it was too staid a pattern to stay in for long. He dropped his shoulder here to evade a non-existent counter, then struck twice with his left, once hard with his right. Then back the other way for a double hard stroke from the right and a jab with the left.

The bunch and pull of muscles long used to the activity had become as familiar as breathing through lungs that did not struggle for air when stressed or irritated, the focus it allowed his mind to settle on as body and instinct took over one he had a dire need of at that moment.

Between the widening gap of emptiness between himself and Bucky as they had met in the gardens a few days before and the young scientist's revelation of Coulson's miraculous recovery and the lies they had all been told concerning him, Steve needed that focus as much as he needed the next breath. He could not become tangled up in his own thoughts and fall to a dark mood, or allow that dual case of resurrection cloud his judgment more than it otherwise might live. One was the faltering of the only mission he then was set on, while the other was a piece of the past he had thought put to rest with Loki's defeat and return to Asgard in chains.

Where he was not unaware of the fact that he was no longer alone, the understanding that the gym was far better trafficked than his old haunt in Brooklyn had Steve making no particular move to address whoever had come in. Only at the rise of a familiar voice did he stop, pulling a punch mid-strike in favor of turning and looking over his shoulder at the woman who had left some days earlier.

"Sif," dropping his hands to his sides, he turned fully to face her. For a second he blanked on a reply, before settling on an easy, "I take it Asgard was good?"

[bornagoddess]

While more adept at the physicality of battle, the striking and the defending, and the precise timing both needed to be successful, Sif prided herself also in being observant of people's body language. It served her well in battle, told her things her opponents might not want to disclose otherwise. She was not a great studious of people, but she did well enough. And as such it took her no time at all to understand that there was something which bothered the Captain quite a bit. She had seen it in the earnest way with which he punched the bag, the hint of a frenzy in the automatic movements, and finally Sif had had her proof in the bunched up eyebrows as he turned to look at her over his shoulder.

"Home, such as this can never be." She replied, a placid smile on her face despite worry threatening to creep in. Taking a moment to observe him, Sif decided to voice her concern. "Forgive me, Captain, but you look preoccupied. Upset, I'd even say. I doubt I can do much for you, but I enjoy sparring with a real being when my mood sours so." A beat, "I assure you I would at least provide a challenge the likes of which might take your mind off of it for a time."

[captain_rogers]

The concept of home was one that had become tenuous, at best, with the loss of Bucky so long before and his own choice to crash Schmidt's ship before it could cause any more damage. Brooklyn was not that, not any more, but neither was D.C., for all that he had lived there for the greatest part of his post ice days. Once, he might have said home was where Bucky was, but that was drawn in lines of confusion and discordance as Bucky continued to push him away.

The poignancy of the the term had him in no way willing to deny her, or any other person, their ability to return home. That seemed too cruel to do to am enemy, let alone a friend or ally.

As rare as it was to come across a match to his own strength and speed, the offer of a sparring match was rarer still. He eyed her then not with a more masculine appreciation, but in sizing up the length of her limbs, the lift of her chin, the light of challenge in her eyes. "I don't generally get the chance to spar," he told her, thinking of the time he had spent training on his own our in observing and studying the fighting styles of others to modernize and expand his own skills. The prospect was too tempting to turn aside, for all the unsettled state of his mood, and while he did reflect briefly on the matter of her sex and his own dislike of the idea of hitting a woman, he was not fool enough to believe she was anything less than a match for him. "Is there some kind of protocol or standard for it on Asgard?"

[bornagoddess]

Yet another thing Sif could tell was that she was, presently, being eyed up as a potential opponent. She couldn't help but wonder if there was any doubt in the Captain's mind that she could hold her own or even be an even match, and at the same time vowed to rid him of any doubt soon, should he choose to accept her offer. While not moving Sif did change stances, crossing her arms with a face hard and still as rock despite her smile.

"That is a pity," she replied, not knowing what to do if she did not have the option to let off steam and frustration in quite an educational way such as bringing new recruits to their knees. Not that she expected to bring the Captain to his knees - though there was a little hope that that might be the outcome. Above all she wished to assess just what kind of a man he was, both in personality as well as physical prowess. She had been told that he was special, a stronger man than most (or all, if you only counted Midgardians) and a good man to boot - and Sif couldn't help being curious. That satisfying this curiosity went hand-in-hand with taking the Captain's mind off of whatever ailed him was that much better.When he asked about Asgardian protocol Sif's smile widened. It pleased her that he took her own culture into consideration, but perhaps more so that he seemed to be receptive to her offer.

"We find an open space, find our position, and agree on a start. No more complicated than that." she replied to his question, eyes glinting with anticipation.

[captain_rogers]

Had he been unable to find the fluidity of her movements in watching her and not understood how that fluidity and the sleek interplay of the muscles beneath her skin could be translated into a fighter’s dance, Steve thought he would have been a piss poor soldier in his own right. Save for that first glimpse of her power in the strike that had sent the heavy bag crashing into the wall and not him only by the grace of his fast reflexes, he had yet to see her in action, leaving anticipation to light him up as he eyed her then.

Bucky’s lessons so long ago had been in a different body, one constrained by all that had ailed him and often having felt as if it were a prison more than a body. He remembered too well what it was like to struggle for breath. How it felt to feel as if his bones rubbed together as he ran and his throat tried to close up on him when he pushed himself to the brinks of what he had been then capable of. As always, the thought had him drawing in a deep breath as reassurance that he was no longer so trapped, although it did not rise to the top of his thoughts but remained always in the background of his reality.

The years marked as after the Serum and after Erskine had been ones without an opponent physical equal enough to allow him to test his strength and speed against a real world opponent. At least, that was, not outside of a few enemies fought over the years. Instead he had watched and waited, learned by example and the testing of what he had learned in his own experiments. It drew the prospect of sparring with Sif in brighter, sharper lines of desire, almost something of a gift as she offered a new and novel thing he had yet to experience for himself.

He tore his eyes from her to look at the space around them in the gym, looking back to her as he asked, “Here? Or should we find someplace else?”

[bornagoddess]

Beyond satisfying her own curiosity and perhaps, hopefully, strengthening a budding friendship, Sif had no other motivation to do this. In her mind there was nothing better to blow off steam, have some fun and get to know someone than to spar with them. When Sif thought about that she also considered that a long time had gone by since she had sparred with someone for the first time outside of training recruits. She knew her friends and fellow fighters for such a long time now she did not remember life without them, and their combat tactics no longer held any surprises for her. It wasn't even fun, exactly, more familiar and safe. Doing this with the Captain had a level of personal interest to it, it was like doing something new while at the same time knowing how good it would feel, and so it was meant to be more pleasant. It was no less pleasant that some part of Sif, some unruly part of her, rejoiced at the opportunity to lay her hands on the Captain. But that was not the most important part.

Mirroring his movements Sif looked around them, then shrugged. "Anywhere is good, with the right partner and enough room." She replied with a smile, taking a few steps back. That was true of many different things, she found.

[captain_rogers]

“I do still owe you that shield demonstration,” he reminded her, canting his head toward where his shield stood leaning against the wall not far out of immediate reach. “But that can probably wait until later. I don’t think I’d be focused enough for that right now, even if the idea of a sparring match wasn’t a hell of a draw.” Having stood against a short fight against Loki and that testosterone-fueled (and embarrassing, in retrospect, given the fact that they had been three adult men bickering like children) brawl that had leveled part of a national forest with Thor, Steve was nothing if not impressed by the speed and the sheer force he had seen Asgardians capable of. While there was the matter of sex differences in physical strength, or was at least in humans, he could not see Sif fighting in exactly the same style as Thor had. Or Loki, for that matter.

The thought of how she might translate her alien abilities into battle had him curious. Sparring was not, of course, battle and should not be ever directly compared to such, but he thought it was something of a showcase of skill. How often had had sat on the sidelines and watched other soldiers spar and train together? How many hours had he been devoted to learning new styles and techniques by demonstration and then imitation?

The words ‘the right partner’ knocked him right off balance for a moment, his brows lifting as he opened his mouth to say - what he did not know, then shut it with a click and a nod.

“No standard procedure?” he said instead, stepping away from the weight bag and toward the center of the room. A quick glance above him spoke of the high ceilings and his earlier look around had revealed them to be alone, both suggesting the gym might very well do well enough. For now. “I’m not going to have Thor knocking down my door for skipping a step and accidentally disrespecting you, am I?” The last was said with a grin, even if it was only half a joke.

[bornagoddess]

"That you do." Sif agreed, gaze following to where Steve's head canted, before returning to his own face. That he already considered it a draw before they had started garnered a pleased chuckle out of her. It was good that they both knew where they stood. Of course Sif, while trained in hand-to-hand, was not as used to that as she was to training with weapons, and so a period of adjustment was to be expected. On the other hand unarmed snaking and sliding beneath men larger in size than herself wasn't particularly strange.

Unsure whether Steve had gotten the (mostly accidental) innuendo in her words, Sif decided to not press the issue when he nodded, although his reaction had poked at her curiosity. "That 'standard procedure' thing is more of a human staple than an Asgardian one, I think." She replied with a teasing smirk. What Steve asked next had Sif chuckle in a low, dangerous way. "Only if you worry too much about my delicate sensibilities and Thor's indelicate hammer arm and go easy on me." She stood, now, with legs spread apart a ways, stretching her arms over her head. "In which case I would tear your door down before he could knock on it, anyway."

Stretching all done with, Sif brought both arms up over her chest, hands closed into fists. She eyed the Captain then with an intensity she had not shown before. "This," she glanced at her fists. "Was your signal to start."

[captain_rogers]

He had become familiar with attraction, with beautiful women not simply noticing he existed but in flirting and smiling at him with the expectation that he do something about it. The years he had spent in his taller, broader and more sound body had proven that well enough, though the novelty had worn off quickly for so many small disappointments as he had discovered it was the new shape of him that caught their eye, that made them smile so sweetly at him.

But what drove him then wasn't that now more easily understood attraction, the simple equation of a gorgeous woman with a dazzling smile. Not entirely, in any case. As much as the desire to show off might have flickered dimly in the back of his thoughts, he squelched it quick for his being set instead on approaching the match as he would any other soldier.

If any other soldier might have had the chance of keeping up with him, that was.

He flashed a grin at her for her words, though he nodded serious enough as rolled his shoulders in preparation, trying not to look too long at the length of Sif's legs as she did her own stretches. "I'll keep that in mind," he told her, settling into a more formal boxing position than he had ever used in the field, left foot forward and fists up before him, his right arm pulled in just a touch closer than his left. He took a step forward, then paused, "Wait, should we talk rules?"

[bornagoddess]

This was a very dangerous time to hesitate, Sif found. When she had seen Steve take a step further she had done the same, bracing for impact whatever way it happened, and upon realizing he had stopped Sif had had no choice but to tumble. It was unbecoming, and slightly irritating. She should have just gone ahead and caught him off-guard, she thought, quickly reminding herself that that was a dishonourable thing to do even in these circumstances.

"Rules?!" She exclaimed, an incredulous tone to her voice. There was no time for this. Sif had stepped forward, and was rounding him now. She smirked.

""Short of 'let's not kill each other' I think we are quite covered. Don't worry, I shan't want to lose a new friend so quickly. I promise to be gentle." That was a lie. There was no point in this exercise if they did not give it their all. "Or...Well, as gentle as I can be? We both can heal quite quickly, isn't that right?"

[captain_rogers]

As little as he could claim to know about women, he knew enough to know that woman or soldier, he'd be paying for making her stumble with his ill-timed question. He might have offered her a free shot if he didn't think she would take that anything other than an insult. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut.

"That's not exactly encouraging," he told her, though he grinned at her a moment after and squared the set of his shoulders a moment before falling back into that looser posture. He could not afford to go stiff and formal, he did not think. What rules applied in a real fight by way of what would work and what likely wouldn't were framed by the rules that had little place on the battlefield. This would be no hard scrabble for survival, no merciless efficiency with his only intention being to put her down hard on her back (or front) and take her out of the action. Had it been, he didn't think he would be half as interested in it as he was.

He turned to continue facing her, his grin pulling again as he offered the small taunt of "Is this how they do it on Asgard, all pomp and no-"

[bornagoddess]

While Sif found herself momentarily shell-shocked by the Captain's grin, to such extent that she involuntarily grinned back, the warrior snapped out of it as quickly as she could. "I would ask if you're afraid but I wouldn't dare insult you like that just yet." She teased. "So we'll call it caution."

Widening her grin, Sif decided that while just looking at the Captain would make for a wonderful exercise to her sensibilities it was equally a waste of precious time. And so, even while as he spoke she edged closer, bending her knees slightly, and interrupted his speech by attempting a punch square on the side, just below the ribs - because even she found it cruel to punch him in the ribs as a first move. "This is how we do it because it is preparation as well as fun. Everything is training. And the enemy doesn't usually settle on rules before the battle." Sif spoke while taking steps back out of Steve's reach, though her eyes more than invited, begged for him to get on with the retribution. A hint of disappointment (completely feigned) made itself noticed in her furrowed brow. "I thought Midgardians were open to unscripted, spontaneous fun!"