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The Nightmare might have driven back, but that didn’t mean Crearia was suddenly safe. Narrs, Frorcs, and all sort of critters could still commit crimes without some eldritch evil at play. Bounty hunting had merely slowed down, but Daisy knew things would eventually ramp up again. Whether it was the Corporation or a local town, she’d find new work sooner or later. She refused to rest on her laurels.
That was one of the reasons the tall, imposing frog-like woman paid a visit to the Corpopolis gym. The glitzy, futuristic city wasn’t her cup of joe, but as long as she had Corporation employee benefits, she’d put them to use. Too much downtime meant that she needed an outlet for her aggression.
Deep into a set of bicep curls, Daisy noisily grunted with each rise and fall of her dumbbells. Glances kept getting thrown at the Frorc woman, but she could have cared less. Let the city slickers gawk at how pumped she was getting! She’d chosen the black tank top and shorts combo for a reason: it made her muscular green skin stand out more, and it intimidated anyone who mistook her for some delicate flower.
She definitely wasn’t thinking about how an annoying ten-year-old girl had trounced her publicly. Not at all. Daisy’s pa had taught her that revenge was a fool’s game. She had let go of her animosity toward Carol after she had lost their first gunfight in the canyons.
And their second outside of Emily’s Brewery.
And their third on the train to al-Hibdae.
And their fourth in Rottenlake City.
A particularly nasty grunt punctuated her latest curl. Her biceps burned from the brutal workout. Veins were gaining prominence along her arms.
Daisy was definitely not upset that some snot-nosed girl with an umbrella had beaten her, and that nearly everyone in Crearia had seen her lose at least one fight. It absolutely hadn’t cut into her reputation or business. When she pushed her body to its limits, she was not imagining plucking Carol off the ground and punting her into the stratosphere.
So, yeah. Daisy was going to be the bigger woman. The increasingly loud and frustrated grunts that accompanied her exercises, ones that made the other gym goers scatter like sheep, were just her way of relieving stress. She was following gym etiquette and all that – she even brought a towel for wiping weights down after she was done with them!
Sure, every new exercise in her circuit got her noisily venting her frustration. Sure, her muscles burned harder than normal as she moved onto dips, chin-ups, and more. Sure, she sounded like a snarling dragon by the time she racked her weights for bench presses. That was just because she was a mature adult with healthy habits, and not a stupid, persistent, pain-in-the-butt brat of a girl who’d be better off-
“-Oh ho ho, I was wondering who was making all that racket! Should’ve known the, ahem, former best bounty hunter of the Sandy Kingdoms would show her face here.”
Daisy immediately recognized her visitor’s cocky, overconfident tone. She scowled as she lifted herself off the bench, finding the gym empty aside from the tan, purple-haired man in front of her. Under that golden mask, she knew he had to be smirking at her.
“Tut,” she flatly said to the Corporation’s general. “Last I checked, you folks hired me on. You got new rules against Frorcs using your equipment or something?”
“Hey, all of the Tut Fitness Centers are judgment-free. No matter how big or small you are, anyone’s welcome!” He pivoted to the eerily quiet machines and weight racks around them, blatantly flexing his strong arms as he pointed. “However, I’m not gonna ignore a noise complaint, especially when it said you were having a heart attack. You practically emptied out the morning crowd with that racket!”
Daisy tried not blush. She hadn’t thought she’d been that obnoxious…
“I got in the moment, that’s all. I’m good.”
Tut snorted and broke into a fit of laughter, forcing her to fight harder to not get flushed. Being as shirtless as ever, Daisy got a good look at his broad chest and strong abs flexing from the giggling. She’d have a compliment or two for him if he hadn’t been acting so insufferable.
“I dunno, I get the feeling you’re still miffed about a certain girl beating the stuffing out of you. Look, if you want to imagine knocking Carol into next week, there are punching bags upstairs. Not gonna tell you how to live your life, but grudges don’t suit you.”
He saw through her so easily! The thought made her growl under her breath.
“From what I heard,” she snarled back, “You got taken down a notch by Carol as well. I don’t think you got room to talk.”
Tut waved a hand at her dismissively. “Pfft! I held back for her sake. I was just buying time for the other generals – which I succeeded at, you know.”
Daisy cocked her head at the conceited, annoyingly handsome nomad. She couldn’t tell if he was delusional, dead serious, or both.
“You fought her in a giant robot. You’re telling me you’d have been stronger fighting her hand-to-hand?”
“Oh, definitely. Carol might be fierce, but she’d have been no match for…”
Tut struck a series of dramatic poses right out of a pro wrestling match, culminating in a crab flex that made his voice strain.
“…These muscles!”
Daisy wasn’t going to admit that, for all his bluster, he did have a pretty good physique. If Tut’s ego got any more inflated, he’d float right off of Corpopolis.
“So, everything clear, Daisy? You’ll keep it down and stop freaking out my clientele?”
“Whatever. I’m almost done here, anyway.”
Under her breath, she muttered an almost-imperceptible comment at Tut’s back.
“Fake natty.”
It would have gone unheard for anyone else. However, the Corporation general whirled around like she’d fired a Garnet Revolver at him. The lights of his mask’s eyeholes narrowed.
“What did you just call me?” Tut barked, all the humor and smugness vanishing from his voice.
Whoa, that had gotten under his skin. Daisy kept a blank face, trying to hide her amusement at how riled-up he’d become.
“Come on, sugar, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she teasingly told him. “We all gotta keep our edge somehow. Nothing wrong with using a bit of gear to stay strong, right?”
Tut almost involuntarily contorted into a series of strange flexing poses, each one more impractical than the next. It was like the casual jab had brought out his fight-or-flight instincts, and he had to prove his muscles weren’t just for show.
“Excuse you, I am one hundred percent all-natural nomad beef!” Tut cried. “You think all this came from a pill, huh?”
Daisy pretended to examine him closely, poking and prodding his strong body as if to test her claim. She didn’t know or care if he used performance enhancers…but he clearly did, and that was hilarious enough for her to push the issue.
“I dunno, most of the geared-up guys have all zits and round cheeks. I’d see for myself if you had them, but since you’re hiding behind that mask like a chicken…”
She could have sworn she heard a fuse blow in Tut’s head. The golden mask was tossed aside in an angry huff, revealing the face of the absolutely livid general. The purple paint trails on his torso apparently went up his face, complimenting his hair and goatee. His slanted ears and intense golden eyes marked him as an al-Hibdae native.
…Hmm. He actually had a nice face after all. Color her surprised.
“How about now, huh?” Tut leaned in closer to her, leaving little room between their heads. “It’s all smooth and natural! Is this the face of a juicer, Daisy?”
It wasn’t, but Daisy wasn’t about to drop the chance to needle him more. He was on the backfoot for once, and she would milk the moment for all it could give her.
“Y’know…I can’t tell.” She threw on her best crap-eating grin, earning an even more outraged glare from Tut. “Your hands seem real smooth for someone who’s supposed to be all rough-and-tumble. Maybe all that beef really is just for show?”
Daisy could have sworn she heard another gasket blow in Tut’s steaming head. Just as he seemed poised to either fist-fight her or collapse into hysterics, he clapped his hands together, closed his eyes, and exhaled deeply. The enraged trembles enveloping his body gradually faded away.
“Off the bench,” Tut said in a flat, level voice. “And spot me. If you want a demonstration, I’ll give you one – but I expect you to prove yourself in turn.”
Was that a challenge? She wasn’t one to back down from a contest, especially not when her pride had been insulted, but they’d need to get the basics down yet.
“Someone with the – what was it again, ‘blessing of the ancient gods’ – needs a spotter?” Daisy said, stepping aside to let him lay on the bench.
“Rules are there for a reason, Daisy. With a spotter, you’re in less danger of dropping a barbell on your neck over some random accident. So, if you could find it in the depths of your black heart…spot me, please.”
Well, he’d said the magic word. If she overindulged, she’d just be acting ungraciously.
Humming to herself, Daisy took her place behind the barbell, hands held not far from his. The Frorc woman might have been reveling in getting Tut on the backfoot, but she could tell he was getting into the zone for his workout. His grip on the bar was firm, and his eyes were slightly narrowed in concentration. His strong chest slowly rose and fell from controlled breaths.
With a grunt, he eased the barbell off its supports, holding it over his pectorals. His back arched, his feet became cemented on the gym floor, and his chin tucked inward. The bar had been loaded with a substantial amount of weight, but Tut efficiently pumped out one rep after another. Unlike her apparently noisy grunting, his exhales were weighty but otherwise soft.
Every movement was controlled and careful, yet it showed just how much power his formidable body possessed. Daisy wouldn’t admit it, especially since Tut’s ego didn’t need more fuel, but his reputation for strength was well-earned.
A satisfied huff and the clanging of the barbell signaled the end of Tut’s lifting. He skirted off the bench and patted its black material, teasingly inviting her to try her hand at his set.
“Beat that, bounty hunter.”
Daisy huffed at the dare. She never backed down from a challenge, especially not when her honor was at stake. Removing the clasps that held the weights in place, she added another 15 pounds each before attaching them again. Tut quirked an eyebrow at the choice, either from the additional difficulty or her proper lifting etiquette.
“Watch me, corpo.”
With Tut spotting her, Daisy raised the bar over her chest and started her own set. The increased weight forced her chest and arms to work harder, but her upper body withstood the strain. The repetitions were timed with each inhale and exhale, using the natural movements of her body to support her efforts.
Conscious of how noisy she’d been, she pressed her lips together and kept herself from grunting too loudly. She wasn’t going to give her spotter – her visitor, rival, whatever you called him – any more material to work with.
The set was putting Daisy through her paces, but she couldn’t deny the thrill it gave her. All the exertion made her arms look like pillars of strength. Her pecs felt sturdier than ever, like armor plates on her chest! She couldn’t show them off like Tut could, of course, but at least she knew she looked awesome.
Another set finished without failure. Daisy mimicked the same gestures as Tut, beckoning for him to return to the bench and match her total weight. In a way, she wasn’t surprised when he smiled fondly, cracked his knuckles, and added even more weight.
“You’re real good,” he admitted, “but I’m a cut above, Daisy.”
It took a little more effort for Tut to kick off the set, but the general persisted. Sweat appeared around his face and exposed torso. His grunts were harsher, but each press was as careful as ever. Again, Daisy hated to compliment the guy, but his form was great.
At the end of his set, Tut practically bounced off the bench and struck a side chest pose. Was all that posing reflexive, or was he actually to impress whoever was watching?
“No obstacle is too great for the best that the Corporation has to offer!” he boldly proclaimed. “You might as well…oh, wow, you’re going for it.”
Daisy added more weight to his total. Sliding under the barbell, she grumbled, “Just spot me,” before getting her hands into position.
It was even tougher to kick off her newest set of bench presses. So much strength was required to lift the bar off its rest, let alone steady it over her chest. She couldn’t back down, though! She was a Frorc, darn it, and Frorcs took challenges as seriously as heart attacks!
The first few presses were the toughest. Daisy tried fantasizing about getting payback against Carol, but the best strategy for lifting was to keep her head in the game. No distractions, no imagining herself elsewhere – just a Frorc woman pumping iron like her life depended on it.
At the final rep, Daisy set the bar back in place with a satisfied laugh. Man, her muscles were on fire, but she felt so alive! She’d never pushed herself so hard before.
“Phew! I get it if you wanna back out now, corpo. Lifting that heavy has to make you…”
Daisy trailed off as Tut quickly added more weight to the already heavy setup. She practically sleepwalked her way behind the bench press, watching in amazement as the general started a new effort to one-up her.
Granted, Tut was clearly struggling. His breathing was more ragged than before, and his arms shook throughout the controlled reps. Harsh, curt exhales punctuated the apex of his presses. No amount of nitpicking would hide the fact that he was, in fact, outdoing her.
The longer time it took to finish the set gave her more unintended chances to get a better look at him. Not that she admired him or anything! It was just…wow, all that bragging about his strength was well-earned. The guy’s pecs were practically the size of book covers, and his arms were both thick and veiny. His bluster hid just how well he handled himself physically.
The two swapped places once again. Daisy didn’t pay any mind to his warnings or how risky it was to add more weight, especially to a total that made a Corporation general struggle. She only saw the competition and her burning desire to prove herself.
“All good, Daisy?” Genuine concern had overtaken his smug tone. “Your form’s slipping.”
Removing the bar from its holders nearly dropped the weight onto her chest. Her arms shook harder than his had! Her palms, sweat-drenched as ever, struggle to keep a smooth grip on the barbell. Even holding it in place while she prepared for her first rep was a huge effort.
“Hey, Daisy, no need to overdo it. You don’t want to strain yourself. If it’s too much, we can stop here.”
She told herself that she had to outdo Tut, that beating him meant she was good enough for her career. If Tut could have defeated Carol, then outdoing him meant she was better than Carol! She wouldn’t be the laughing stock of the Sandy Kingdoms anymore!
Grunting angrily, Daisy put everything she had into lowering and raising the bar. Alright, first rep down. Time to-
-The bar slipped from her failing grip. A million panicked thoughts shot through her head in that split-second. Her hands shot out for their former spots, frantically trying to catch it before it crushed her-
-And the bar came to a stop barely above her chest. Her palms had found the bar, as had Tut, who hefted the barbell onto its rest with a considerable huff.
Daisy felt her mouth dry up. Her upper body trembled, but not from the intense workout. Tut leaned over her, any hints of pride or superiority in his expression having vanished.
“Let’s call it a day for both our sakes,” he said in a low, gentle tone.
Daisy had no argument or protests to make. Nodding silently, she retrieved her towel and what remained of her dignity before getting off the bench. Tut looked flat-out relieved when she didn’t push back against his idea.
She would need to dry off before questioning what made her pull such a bull-headed move.
A good towel-down and a fresh change of clothes – just a light sports bra and shorts – had barely lifted Daisy’s mood. She’d found refuge in cafeteria immediately next to Tut’s gym, a place where she could take inventory and refuel. It helped that she was the only one there, near as she could tell. There was a lot for her to parse through, and she didn’t have much to celebrate.
The near-incident with the bench press had put her in a funk. She hadn’t taken any post-pump snapshots in the locker room, and her usual after-workout jerky didn’t have the same smoky flavor! Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d almost screwed up.
Without a spotter, she’d have seriously hurt herself, possibly for life. She’d willingly walked herself into danger when her opponent had tried getting her to step back. How bad had things gotten when Tut, of all people, had become the more reasonable of the two?
Just the thought of that made her groan. Maybe she was washed-up. If she couldn’t nab a brat like Carol, then maybe that was a sign to rethink things.
“There you are. I was worried you’d run off. How’re you holding up, Daisy?”
Tut rounded the corner to join her in the empty cafeteria. He wore his golden mask once more, and he carried a large protein shake that churned when he sat next to her. A straw poked into the mask’s mouth hole from the murky depths of the vanilla shake.
“About as good as that sludge looks,” Daisy quietly said back.
“I mean, this stuff’s delicious, so I dunno how you want me to take that.”
Growling, Daisy said, “You know what I mean! You come here to gloat?”
The light coming from Tut’s eye holes narrowed. “I’m here to make sure you’re okay after that scare. That could have ended badly, Daisy. I’d be shaken up about it, too.”
It’s not that the whole fiasco hadn’t spooked her – anyone in the right mind would have felt the same way – but what led to it worried her more. She had psyched herself out over some stupid grudge and pointless urge to prove herself. It had been a competition she had been the only member of, and it could have ended horribly for her.
It wasn’t easy for Daisy to admit it. Even when condensing her frustrations into words, it took a few awkward attempts of fumbling with what she was trying to say. Tut, for what it was worth, remained oddly patient throughout it. The usual barbs and bragging she’d come to expect from him were absent.
Throwing her hands in the air, Daisy sighed and said, “I feel like I’m getting soft, like I’m not cut out for this work anymore.”
Something between a scoff and a laugh of disbelief came from behind Tut’s mask. Again, it didn’t carry the usual judgment he had become infamous for.
“You’re kidding, right? You, getting soft? Have you looked in the mirror lately, Daisy? Your stomach looks like armor plating, and your arms are the thickest they’ve ever been! You’re one of the toughest women to visit this gym, easily.”
Oh. That was…weirdly nice of him. All that praise for her made her cheeks warm. Had he been paying so much attention to how she looked? If he’d been ogling her, then color her impressed, because she’d never noticed it.
Also, how long had he been tracking her progress? Not that she cared or anything. Not at all.
“N-no, that’s not what I mean!” Darn it, why was she turning into a stammering schoolgirl over some compliments? Focus, Daisy! “I mean as a bounty hunter! You folks hired me to bring Carol in awake or asleep, and I dropped the ball four times. You should’ve kicked me to the curb a long time ago.”
“That is what the contract said…but, really, we just needed to keep her busy and buy time for General Umbra. The longer Carol had to deal with you, the more of a lead Umbra got on her way to Corpopolis.” Shrugging, he added, “Whether you took her down didn’t matter. You did what we needed, and that’s why you’re still on our payroll.”
The confession made the weight on her chest ease slightly. So, she had technically pulled her job off, even if she hadn’t been aware of it. That had to count for something.
“Keeping me on hire wasn’t a fluke, then?” she asked, unable to hide the hope in her voice.
“Hey, Aeon and the CEO are strict about details. They’d have cut you off by now if they hadn’t been pleased.”
When Daisy took another glance around the cafeteria, the space seemed a little brighter than before. She didn’t think it was solely because of the sun rising, either.
“…What now, then? I’d given up on turning in Carol’s bounty, but if I’m still being paid-”
Tut waved his hands and shook his head frantically to cut her off. “That business is water under the bridge now. Plus, with the way things are going with that Blueberry guy, she’ll probably be a princess of Marshmalott in a decade. Best not to get that kind of heat on you.”
…Man, politics in Crearia were so weird. Tut was right. She’d be better off going for her normal bounties instead of bratty, world-saving girls.
Leave it to the most braggadocious guy she’d met to get her out of her funk. Tut had a lot more going for him than a chiseled body after all! In a way, it made her feel warm and happy and…well, wanted inside. It had been too long since she’d felt like someone genuinely cared about her wellbeing.
Maybe it was the heat of the moment messing with her head, maybe she felt like he’d earned it, she’d never know – but, before Daisy could talk herself out of it, she’d leaned over to Tut, pulled his mask aside just enough to expose his cheek, and planted a kiss on it.
Tut practically sputtered and recoiled with shock at the romantic gesture. Daisy suddenly became self-conscious of what she’d done, trying not to get too grateful or to ogle him again.
“What the – Daisy, why would you-”
“-Because I…” Growling, she threw her arms in the air and said, “Because you’re the only half-decent guy who’s given me the time of day, and you care enough to cheer me up when you could’ve tossed me aside, and…darn it, why are you making this weird?”
“You’re making it weird!” Tut immaturely argued back. “You think I wanted to be kissed by some…hotheaded gunslinger with boulder shoulders and a killer set of abs?”
Well, when he put it that way…it definitely made her blush harder and question things further. Those were a lot of flirty things to say about someone he was apparently outraged at.
“Stuck-up braggart,” she hissed at him.
“Overconfident freak,” he shot back at her.
A quiet tension held between the two, neither budging from the strange confrontation they’d forced themselves into. Gradually, Daisy found her lips lifting, and she saw Tut’s eyeholes brighten behind his mask. A weak giggle left him, followed by one of her own. The duo fell into an infectious fit of laughter, half-laughing at their silly fight and the other half chuckling at how absurd it all was.
Daisy had to wipe tears from her face by the time they got themselves together. Funny how, against all odds, she’d cried from laughter rather than the usual somber stuff.
Tut had done that for her. She hated to admit it, but he was a better man than she’d expected. Maybe…maybe she could allow herself to dream a little.
Acting on impulse again, she jotted down a ten-digit number and thrusted it into his hands. Tut seemed as baffled as ever at the scrap of paper she’d given him.
“Take it. It’s my phone number. You know, so you can throw it in the trash like all the other girls who slobber over you. You’ll never call me, but I’d feel like a milksop if I didn’t try!”
She stormed out of the cafeteria before he could respond, red-faced and hot from embarrassment. Nothing would come of the effort. Tut would trash her number by the time she got back to her motel room. She could hope otherwise, but she figured that’s how he was.
Still, seeing his dumb, masked face on the gym’s exit display stirred something inside of her. At least she knew he had a decent heart under all that bluster. He’d helped her believe that, eventually, everything would work out for her. She would pull herself up from her Carol-related humiliations, return to bounty hunting, and enjoy her calling once again.
Maybe it had been worth enduring all the Corpopolis hustle-and-bustle to visit his gym – if only because she got to meet him face-to-face.
Ba-dum.
The thin piece of scrap paper rested in Tut’s hand like some sort of ancient spell or curse. It had frozen him on the spot, forcing him to seriously weigh his dilemma.
Had he gotten numbers before? Absolutely! What respectable lady could resist an utter beefcake like himself? He was the total package!
And, like Daisy said, all of those numbers inevitably ended up in the trash.
Too many responsibilities had weighed him down and prevented commitment. Ruling al-Hibdae, serving as a general for the Corporation, and looking after his younger cousin all took priority. He hadn’t ever found that spark he’d wanted in a woman, either. Too many suitors had been attracted to the bod, not the dutiful guy underneath.
Ba-dum.
He should really throw Daisy’s number away. Getting closer to her would cause problems. She was a brute, nothing but hired muscle that the Corporation had hired for Umbra’s sake. No different than the other Frorcs they had brought on, anyway.
The fact that he had argued to keep her on their payroll meant nothing. The concern he had for her after that near-accident also meant nothing.
Ba-dum.
Physically, she was his type. Who could blame him for liking ladies with some more meat on them? Personality-wise, though…it wouldn’t work. She clashed with him too easily. They competed over small, unimportant things. She’d almost hurt herself trying to surpass him!
Did he need to be challenged? Was he better off stagnant and unaccountable?
Ullr would never let him live it down. Aeon would question his tastes but refrain from external judgment. Umbra…she was a sweet girl, so she’d probably draw him some sort of cute congratulatory card. Ullr and Aeon would want it pinned on their break room’s fridge, no doubt.
He should drop the paper in the trash. He really should.
Ba-dum.
But…no other woman had made him feel that way. On the spot, on the record, forced to prove himself rather than rely on his reputation alone. Someone who didn’t see the wealth of al-Hibdae or the power of the Corporation in romancing him. A lady who was crass and rude yet full of courage and heart.
More gymgoers were returning to their workouts with Daisy gone. Tut decided to make himself scarce, slipping into his office overlooking the weight room. He would stop by if anyone needed help with their sets, but otherwise, it would be a hands-off sort of shift. He’d had enough excitement for the rest of the day.
Setting his mask aside, Tut looked down at the number once again. A wastebasket sat temptingly nearby. He dropped the piece of paper without thinking, letting it tumble toward the other scraps waiting to be recycled.
Then he caught it in mid-air.
Then he entered the digits into his smartphone.
And then he allowed the contact info to fall into the trash.
The phone rang for a few moments after dialing. If he’d been given the number to some pizza joint across town as a joke, he’d take back everything he’d said about her.
Before the answering machine could kick in, a scratchy Southern voice came over the line. The harsh but feminine lilt was unmistakable.
“Who in Crearia is this?” Daisy asked.
It was enough to make Tut laugh again. If trying his luck with her was a mistake, then he’d go all in on it. Where was the fun in life without taking chances?
“You were wrong, cowpoke,” he teasingly told her. “I’m not giving up on you that easily.”