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It was hard to miss the sound of someone taking out their fury on a punching bag. Kamboja knew the sound, he'd heard it so many times when his own fists beat a rage against the weighted leather. Even while he was concentrating on this trainee, his mind kept wandering to the kindred spirit trying to destroy an inanimate object. He was intrigued.

"Okay, Anya, take a break. Go do some cardio."

A lean brunette smiled appreciatively through heaving breaths and nodded at him, immediately excusing herself to the water fountain on the other side of the gym. The dreadhead turned his attention to the curvy woman he had seen over little Anya's head, watching as she leaned into the punching bag to catch her breath. She sure was angry. He stripped the punching mitts off of his fingers and tossed them against the near wall, where they hit and fell onto an unoccupied bench. Then he scooped up his water bottle and crossed the gym at a lazy pace, keeping her in his sight.

Instead of getting within range of her fists, mostly because he didn't want to be the target of a stray punch, he leaned into the wall and watched her stretch.

"Did you win this time?" A thick brow raised as he pulled the top of his water bottle open with his teeth and took a long sip, letting his gaze trail over the smattering of bruises on her skin. She knew how to fight, so she certainly wasn't the typical victim.

A half grin curled the edge of his lips as she snapped back at him and basically went about her business as if he didn't matter. That was fine. He liked the feisty ones, they were always more of a challenge.

"Well, if one of our members is out getting her a** kicked, it's definitely my business." He pushed himself off of the wall and reached out to push the bag with the tips of his fingers, frowning as he pressed it from the top to the bottom. "You might want to move down to the next one over though, the sandbags in this one need to be replaced." He pushed it slightly, watching the swing and shrugging. "The weight's all off."

He tilted his head back and sprayed another gulp of water into his mouth, then wiped his mouth off on his shoulder, leaving a wet smudge on the fabric of his tshirt. He could appreciate all the work she was putting into herself - a strong woman was a fun woman, in the end. He never did like to feel like he might break a girl. Luckily, the city was full of super heroines these days.

"Besides, gym bunnies usually like those Justin Bieber types. Pretty hair and baby voices and all that." The smirk was back, now. "Most women don't know how to handle a real man these days." It was obviously a hard life.

Kamboja watched her with a wary eye as she gave him yet another dismissive retort and moved down to the next punching bag without so much as a thank you for the advice. This was definitely a challenge - but he was missing a good challenge in his life these days. Civilian conquests were so much easier.

"How do you know I'd get in the way?" He moved down as she did, leaning against the wall between the two punching bags now and staring at her as she arched a leg and nailed the punching bag with more force than any of the little gym bunnies would have. Strong thighs, good balance. If she thought he was giving up now, she was betting on the wrong odds. And what was that no men rule? Oh, he was so intrigued.

"I don't have another gym bunny to train for about an hour, doll, if you want to try your luck against something stronger than a sack of sand." A thick brow arched as he swept his gaze from her leg to her defensive posture. He could take her - and show her a thing or two while he was at it. Real men didn't sing soprano. He pushed his shoulder off of the wall and turned away to look at the gym, twisting in place to stretch out his back.

"Cause you're not gonna get good enough for payback by playing with anything that isn't a challenge."

It was hard to hide the smile when she finally turned away from her punching bag and put her full attention on him, though he did his best and controlled it to a sly smirk. Despite the fact that her attention came in the form of an angry outburst, it was still attention and it was still what he wanted. He made a mental note to use pet names in the future.

"Don't worry about me. Even if you aren't a gym bunny, I really doubt you're as hard to handle as some of my usual sparring partners." He had to admit that it was interesting to know that someone looked at him and thought he was easy prey, but he didn't expect this woman to hold a candle to some of the people he'd faced as Gehenna. After all, he'd lived through a woman stabbing him clean through the torso. It wasn't like she could punch that hard.

The dreadhead paused where he was to continue his streching, letting her wait a moment where she'd stepped onto the mat. He'd had the advantage of already seeing what she was capable of and what style she preferred, though he wouldn't dare underestimate a woman with a body like that. He, however, was a complete surprise to her. The only disadvantage he wanted to admit was the way she had already been warmed up - he hadn't. Being someone's trainer wasn't much of a work out.

When he was ready, he stepped onto the mat after her, into closer range than he would have if she were truly an enemy. There was no risk of losing his life in this match up. He set his feet to the width of his shoulders and bent slightly into a defensive position, pulling his fists up level with his chest. He didn't want to outright block his head - by the looks of her, he'd be willing to bet she played dirty. No one with a temper like that was dry enough to play by the books. It was kind of an exciting thought.

"Alright, sweetcheeks, come and get it." He even added a small 'come hither' motion with one hand for effect. He hoped it fueled that temper of hers just a little more.

Kamboja was used to pretty much everyone being faster than he was - it was the price he paid for having more muscle. Yet he never stopped being surprised at how quickly people could rush at him when everyone else made it seem so easy to predict his own bullheaded stampedes. She was just suddenly in motion, doing more things with her first dash than he could keep track of.

As the hand came out to try and knock his arms out of place, he caught it with one arm and shoved it out to the side. The other arm blocked the hand she drove up at his face but unfortunately, he didn't manage to block the knee she shoved right into his stomach. His legs weren't the most agile tools in his body.

He grunted and leaned forward slightly but fought the urge to double over and protect his stomach. The Squire-by-night had at least learned to recover from inevitable blows quickly. The first arm snaked down and caught her behind the knee of her lifted leg, grabbing tightly and yanking up in an attempt to pull her clean off of her feet. One sneaker shoved out and kicked at the foot of her standing leg, hoping he could disorient her enough to land her flat on her back.

Fortunately, Kamboja's greatest asset in any battle was being a large, heavy man with a lot of dense muscle mass. It was hard to toss him around against his will, almost as successful as moving a brick wall. Though she succeeded in throwing off his center of gravity with the unexpected climb up his torso, she didn't have the weight behind her to drag him down quickly enough to stop a counter.

As he began to feel himself tipping forward, he secured his free hand around her waist to hold her still and rolled his left shoulder forward to let them fall onto that side. Though he didn't have the pauldron in his civilian life, learning to use it to his advantage had changed the way he fought overall. It brought them down onto his left side, undoubtedly knocking hers as well, and pinned the leg she had wrapped around his knee beneath his weight. He grimaced from the impact on his shoulder, but a lot of the force had been absorbed by the training mat.

"That's where I like my women," he answered through a grunt, though lacking its usual smarm with the way she was had tightened her arm around his neck and locked his head into place.

He kept his weight on her trapped leg and used the arm hooked beneath the other knee to shove it upward, stretching out that leg and pinning it in what had to be a painful position. He had the advantage of weight in a hold like that, but he had to wonder if she was crafty enough to get out of it.

A loud groan passed through his lips as soon as the elbow sank against his skull. Though it was cushioned partially by the thick dreads, it didn't save him from the jab entirely, and it sent stars sparkling across his vision despite the extra cushion. <********," was the only intelligible thing he could respond with, though 'intelligible' was arguable. It took relatively little convincing to force him to roll over and pull his weight off of her leg, not with the threat of a broken nose and his vision still swimming static gray. Yet even as he did so, he became aware of the fact that she was not only straddling him now, but the way she was grabbing his head had forced her to lean forward - not entirely a bad view from his perspective.

"If you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was say so." The smart a** comment rolled off his tongue as he reached up to grab both of her arms in his strong hands, incapable of throwing her off from this position but trying to limit any damage she could do with her hands by locking them in place.