Chapter Text
Furiosa tossed the stack of mail she’d been thumbing through onto the desk with a sigh. Loan payment due here, electric bill due there, legal fees from Joe’s unsuccessful lawsuit due here, quotes for the endless repairs and renovations the gym needed all over the place, insurance premiums rising – why was she getting punished for vandals trashing the building? All of it was enough to put her over the edge.
Checking her e-mail brought no news of the upcoming competition in Corvidae; she had been hoping to get the girls entered in the tournament. Furiosa slammed the laptop shut and rubbed her temple. A soft knock to the door frame pulled her from her thoughts. Capable stood at the door looking slightly anxious and holding the cordless phone.
“Splendid called, said she’s going to be late, not feeling well again.”
“Call her back and tell her I don’t want her here until she sees a doctor; she’s been sick all week.”
Capable nodded. “Any news about Corvidae?”
“Not yet.”
After leaving Joe’s training facility and taking the girls with her, Furiosa bought a building and turned it into a women’s mixed martial arts training facility and gym. It had been a risky move, one that currently wasn’t paying off with Joe doing everything in his power to make it fail, including limiting their options for participating in nearby tournaments.
Capable’s hopeful face fell; she nodded again and walked back towards the front desk to call Splendid. Furiosa stood up and removed her prosthesis, dropping it on the pile of mail and paperwork. Her problems weren’t going anywhere and she had some fighters to coach; she told Toast to warm up and get in the ring.
Furiosa would never regret leaving Joe. He may have made a successful career of churning out MMA champions but she spent ten years watching him run fighters into the ground, treating them like property and discarding them the second they underperformed. When she finally got the chance to escape she took it and never looked back.
--
The door to the entrance of the gym creaked open and for a split second Furiosa’s attention was drawn to the man entering the building and heading for the front desk. However, she wasn’t so distracted that she couldn’t block Toast’s high kick to her shoulder. With a slight grin she locked her arm around Toast’s leg to keep her off balance and leaned forward, forcing the younger fighter to fall backwards onto the mat. Furiosa’s smile widened and she helped Toast up.
“Quick break, stay warm,” she ordered before turning towards the front desk. The man had one hand jammed in his pocket and the other holding a duffel bag. It seemed as if he didn’t know how to hold still, shifting his weight from foot to foot, eyes darting everywhere. The tension in his shoulders looked tighter than a pressed coil. Furiosa wouldn’t have been surprised if he were on something.
“Can I help you?”
Her voice got his attention and he glanced at her before quickly looking away; he shuffled closer to the desk.
“How much . . .” he cleared his throat, voice raspy, “to work out?”
Furiosa eyed him warily. He almost looked familiar to her but she couldn’t pinpoint from where. The mixed martial arts training was for women only but the gym was open to anyone, the current customer count being . . . one. She withheld her sigh and told him the cost.
“Ten a day, fifty a week, or one-fifty a month with a membership which-”
He interrupted her with a ten dollar bill slapped on the counter before he turned and headed for the locker rooms.
“Okay then,” she muttered, taking the money and putting it away before returning to her sparring session with Toast.
When the man emerged from the locker rooms, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, brace on his left knee, he began with a short jog on the treadmills and from there her eyes followed him trying every piece of equipment she had.
Returning her attention to Toast, she called Dag, Cheedo, and Capable over to demonstrate a technique they could use to take down taller opponents. In rapid moves Furiosa placed the nub of her left arm on Toast’s upper arm, just above her elbow; her right hand grasped the girl’s neck and forced it towards her nub, spinning Toast over her arm, forcing her feet into the air in a wide arc that finished with the younger fighter landing hard on the mat.
“I want all of you to practice this with each other, then cool down for the day.”
Furiosa watched them practice, giving them tips about how to plant their feet and use leverage instead of energy-sapping strength. She took another glance at her new customer who’d made his way to one of the punching bags, hands freshly taped. As she watched him strike she noticed the way his demeanor changed. He looked calm and focused, the tension in his shoulders loosening as whatever had him restless eased away with every punch. He seemed more familiar than ever but still she couldn’t place him.
--
The girls had left for home, an apartment building they rented from, and Furiosa was getting ready to shut everything down when the man placed a stack of bills in front of her. She glanced up at him before counting it out. A small smile tugged at her lips.
“Welcome to the gym.”
He nodded and moved to leave, pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder and headed towards the door.
“Can I get a name?” Furiosa called out to him and the man froze. After a few moments he turned slightly.
“Max,” he said softly. “My name is Max.”