Cate tries to help an angry Mikolas. Miko wins.
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1042
Thunk. Thwap. Thud. It's a steady barrage of hits against a heavy bag, Mikolas standing in front of it with taped knuckles and giving it a thorough work-over with a series of punches and kicks. It's not just a routine exercise either, but the medic seems to be putting all his weight behind each blow no matter the state that leaves his hands and legs in when he's through.
Cate's arm is finally cleared for exercises outside of physical therapy, so here she is, wearing her sweats and tanks and ready to put it to the test. She surveys the room, and her brow furrows when her eyes light on Mikolas. "What'd that bag ever do to you?" she asks, coming up on him.
There is something in Miko's expression that the man doesn't reveal often. It's a darkness that draws his features tight across his facial bones and makes a vein stand out like a sharp blue lightening bolt down his forehead. It's anger. Pure, unbridled anger. Thankfully, it's just directed at the bag, even if he glances at Cate with the answer, "It looked at me crossways." Gone is any teasing and congenial tone in his words, it sounds like his tongue is laced with acid.
Cate tilts her head at the tone and the expression on his face. "Sucks to be it then." The acid doesn't seem to bother her, but there's concern in her voice when she asks, "Hey, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Miko scoffs, slamming his fist into the bag once again. "Nothing is wrong. I'm frakking peachy. I am the exact sum of what everyone says I am. Which is a whole lotta nothing, apparently."
Cate comes around to the other side of the bag to stabilize it for him. "Bullshit," she says evenly. "But if you want me to frak off and leave you alone, just say so. I'm too stubborn to take a hint."
Miko stops a moment to look across to Cate, meeting her eyes for a solid "Just hold the frakking bag, Rhodes." He mutters, then drops his chin again and continues on the barrage. The tape does little to protect knuckles when you're intent on either turning them into hamburger or splitting the bag open, and soon little cherry blossoms of red bloom on the white adhesive strips.
Cate does as he asks, holding the bag in silence while he tries to beat it to a bloody pulp. When she sees the brewing injury though, she says, "Hey, I came down here to spar." No she didn't, but she's a good liar. "Give your hands a rest and come kick my ass for a bit. Or try to anyway," she says, eyebrows lifted in challenge.
Miko steps back from the bag, heaving a breath that makes his chest rise and fall in sharp movements. His tongue dabs at his upper lip, patting away the speckle of sweat that's gathering there. He eyes her long and hard, from stem to stern and back again. "And risk putting you right back in physical therapy, leaving the Padre to train on my own? No thanks, sweetheart."
Cate shrugs. She didn't really want to fight him anyway. But she can't resist cracking, "Your loss. I'm way more interesting than a punching bag."
Miko steps around the bag moreso to square up to her instead of the inanimate object. "You being potentially interesting is what got me in trouble in the first place. You wanna finish what we started in that shower?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, not really leaving it open. "Your loss."
Cate crosses her arms, the one with the new Cython teeth scar on top, still pink and ugly even though it's technically closed up. "We didn't start anything in the shower and you frakking know it."
"You know it. I know it." Miko mimics her stance, folding his arms likewise. "The rest of the ship had a hay day with it, and all it did was confirm to Elijah that I'm not worth the long term." Then suddenly the man drops lower, swinging a leg around to try and take Cate's out from underneath her.
Cate's jaw works, probably trying to come up with something a little more helpful than 'well who's fault is that?'. After he refused her invitation to spar earlier, the very last thing she expected from him is a leg sweep. It's executed with perfection, both her legs leaving the floor. Her back and head smack down with a thud. Good thing it's a padded mat, though it still knocks the wind out of her. She rolls over and starts to get up, too breathless to do anything but scowl at him.
Miko reaches down with his bloodied hands to go to her hips and help her back to her feet. "See? You're still a glass egg." Miko grouses, proving that his ability to take her down so easily means that she wasn't ready to even suggest a spar in the first place.
Cate goes on scowling at him. "Glass egg? You frakking sucker-punched me." Well, sucker-swept. Which apparently makes her a sucker, but also a sucker with a temper. She takes the hand up, but as soon as her feet are back under her, she takes firmer hold of that hand to try to control his arm and twist around into a hip throw.
While Miko wasn't completely expecting Cate to retaliate, he's already hyped up. That's why he's not caught completely off guard when Cate tries to wrist lock him, and he's able to snap his arm out of it quickly and efficiently and even follow it up with a little tap of his fingers against her cheek to grind in the fact that she failed. "Gonna start calling you Lollipop." AKA, sucker.
Cate frowns, stubborn pride bruised when she utterly fails to get the drop on him. "Not if you expect me to answer," she fires back sullenly.
Miko reaches out to try and knock his knuckles against her jaw, but this time lightly despite the fact that his eyes still are dark. He's restraining himself. Barely. "Go back to your beau. Don't frak things up like I do." It's a warning in more than one way as he turns back to the bag.
Cate crosses her arms again, and this time she leans against the bag. Just enough to be in his way. "I may be a sucker, but you're an idiot if you're going to use this as an excuse to give up on him," she says flatly.
Miko just stares down his nose at Cate, his nostrils flaring with the quick intake and exhale of breath. "I asked him to marry me. And he said no. Because I'm not good enough for him, Cate. So how's that for an excuse? Now move, Lollipop, before you get licked again."
Cate's eyebrows lift in surprise briefly, but then she frowns. "He said no because you weren't good enough for him, or because you've only been together a couple months and some frakking joker decided to talk shit about us?" She hasn't moved from the bag.
Miko's lips peel back from his teeth, giving her a mirthless smile. His words are ground out between the clench of his jaw. "I'm. Not. Good. Enough." Each word comes out like it's spit. Like it's the one phrase that's been playing over and over in Miko's head since whatever conversation it was that he had with Eli. He then can't control it anymore, that coil of temper that finally springs and his fist gets aimed just above her head to the bag.
Cate flinches a little, but doesn't move from her spot immediately. She frowns, regarding him with a sad sympathy. "That sucks, Miko. I'm sorry. I know how that feels." And then she does straight up so she's not leaning on the bag any more. She instead moves around behind it to hold it for him again.
Miko swallows back something that could easily be his pride as much as it is a sob of emotion as his eyes grow rounder and his mouth tightens up as if keeping something inside. There is no spoken words of 'thank you' but he's giving her a short nod of appreciation just the same before he exhales and starts his battery of the bag once again, mindless or perhaps embracing the sting of damage it does to his hands.
Cate's frown remains as she holds the bag. She doesn't like watching him torture his hands like that, but she doesn't know what else to do. She lets him go for a bit longer, then shifts around the bag a little to try to clap him on the arm. "Come on, that's enough. You frak your hands up any more and you're gonna end up in sickbay. Let me bandage them up for you."
Miko's eyes are wild by the time that Cate clamps him on the arm, it's like he doesn't even see her for a second, blinded as he is by some rage. There is still part of him beyond it though, that has learned how to rein it it, and he's mouthing the numbers as he counts to ten while looking at her face. It's not until he's around six that he seems to relent, letting tension seep from his shoulders and lend him to her care. "No sickbay." He merely says.
Cate tenses at that look in his eyes, prepared to defend herself. But when he relaxes, so does she. "Fine, no sickbay. I've got a kit in my locker. You want to get cleaned up first and meet me there, or just go straight there?"
"Can't deal with a little sweat, Rhodes? You must have a sad love life." Miko only leans over to grab a towel that he had resting on a bench, throwing it over his shoulder before mopping at his cheek with it. "Just clean it, clot it and cover it, sweetheart. I don't need the foreplay."
Cate frowns at him, tensing. Sore spot much? "You know what, Miko? Maybe Cadmus doesn't want to marry you because you're a coarse jackass to anyone and everyone who's trying to be nice to you," she says, tone clipped. "Bandage your own damn hands." With that, she's stepping back and turning away from him.
And to that, Miko just ticks a bloodied knuckled hand off his forehead in the traditional Picon salute and turns back to the bags.