Chapter Text
"Alright team, let's get started," Blonde Blazer announced for the third time in as many minutes.
Unsurprisingly Z-Team didn't pay her any more attention than they had the previous two times. Which was to say none.
They kept chatting away and throwing insults at each other in the middle of the gym like they were getting paid for it. Which they were, technically. They were on company time, after all.
Blazer held back the urge to rub her temples through sheer force of will. She didn't know how Robert did it.
He had somehow found an approach with Z-Team that had earned him their respect. Most of the time. Which, really, was more than anyone else at SDN had managed to get.
Whatever his approach was, it definitely wasn't "I'm your boss", but it also wasn't "I'm your friend." It was more like a... secret third thing. Trying to emulate it clearly wasn't working out for her.
She could still play the boss card. But then she not only wouldn't make any progress, she'd probably make them respect her less.
Fine. Fallback option it was.
Blazer sighed and turned to Robert who was standing next to her, arms crossed and watching the Z-Team antics with his trademark flat expression.
She caught his eye and gave him a small nod, the way they'd agreed on beforehand. She was thankful that he'd let her try to reach some friendlier ground with Z-Team without interrupting her frankly pitiful attempts, but they also had a schedule to keep.
Robert gave a short nod in return and turned around to grab one of the smaller barbells from a bench.
Which he immediately proceeded to chuck right at the team.
There was a chorus of startled noises as Flambae and Sonar tried to duck for cover and ended up shoving everyone. The barbell collided harmlessly with one of the walls and rolled away.
"What. The fuck." Flambae growled as he clambered back to his feet. His hands were already starting to glow faintly from the heat building in them.
Blazer was inclined to agree. She was staring at Robert herself, the mountain of paperwork for lawsuits and HR violations already flashing before her eyes.
He noticed her look and shrugged, "I was throwing over their heads anyway."
Right. Of course. Robert wasn't stupid. He just didn't care if he gave her a small heart attack it seemed. No wonder he got along so well with the team.
He at least had the decency to give her a small, apologetic smile, before he turned back to the team.
"Guess we can finally get started. Remember, this training exercise is about fighting without using your powers, in case something renders you unable to use them. Anyone wanna go first?"
"Oh, I'll go first. And last," Flambae growled and stomped forward.
Blazer sighed and stepped back to give them some room. She just hoped this wouldn't end with the building burning down.
Robert instructed Flambae to stand behind him and turned to the group, "We'll start with an opponent who is presumably unaware of you. Again, no powers. Let's say I'm a guard. You need to knock me out before I can alert anyone. I don't have a gun but I do–"
Flambae didn't let Robert finish. He closed the distance between them, put one of his hands over Robert's mouth and his arm around the other man's neck, "Too easy."
Four to six seconds, Blazer remembered the instructor from one of her classes saying years ago, that's all the time you have before you start losing consciousness.
If Robert was surprised, it didn't slow him down. He immediately pulled up his shoulders to protect his neck and bit down on Flambae's hand hard enough to draw blood. At the same time his hands shot up to pull Flambae's arm away from his neck.
It hardly budged more than a few millimeters, but that gave Robert enough room to twist inward and step to the side, putting his left leg behind Flambae's right one so they were basically standing at a 90 degree angle towards each other. Then he rammed his elbow into Flambae's groin and twisted the rest of the way free by ducking out to the side from underneath his opponent.
When Flambae hunched forward with a high-pitched noise of pain, Robert used the momentum from his spin to slam his elbow into the back of the other man's neck.
Flambae folded like, well, a folding chair. The whole thing lasted barely five seconds.
There were some sympathetic hisses coming from the team, but most of them hollered and cheered loudly. Prism was filming the whole thing, her phone shaking in her hand with her laughter.
Robert looked down at Flambae for a moment (Blazer didn't know if he was checking for serious injuries or just if the other man would stay down. She was going to assume it was the former. For insurance reasons) before he turned back to the team.
"Ok, so what went wrong here?"
"That he didnae protect his nutsack?" Punch Up guessed.
"That he shot his shot too early," Invisigal added and mimed jerking off.
Robert lifted an eyebrow, unfazed. "You guys got one advantage over most heroes. You know how to fight dirty and you're not afraid to do it. But you can't forget that any opponent might do the same."
The next words were directed at Flambae, "Especially if you force them into a fight where they're at a disadvantage. I know as well as you do that I'm outgunned when it comes to size or muscle mass. The problem is, it makes you think you've already won. I'm not gonna give up cause I'm in a bad position. I'm just gonna fight harder and dirtier than the other guy."
"I'm gonna tell you what went wrong," Flambae groaned from the floor. Apparently he'd only just caught his breath enough to answer the first question, "it's that they didn't put you down at the shelter. Clearly you have fucking rabies or some shit."
"Come to think of it, you should have that looked at by medical," Robert said and nodded towards the teeth imprints on Flambae's hand, "bite marks can get infected really quickly. And maybe get your rabies shots in while you're there. You know, just in case."
Which was probably as good a time as any for Blazer to cut in. She cleared her throat politely and pointed to the corner of her mouth. "Robert? I think you have some of Flambae's blood… right there."
"Huh. Thanks," he mumbled absently and wiped it away with the back of his hand.
Somehow no one wanted to volunteer for the next round.