Chapter Text
Abby Anderson hated new boxing rings.
Not because she was nervous, but because everybody looked at her like they already knew her. They’ve seen her on TV, the news, interviews, but they didn’t actually see her. They didn’t see the after hours training sessions, her broken jaw, knuckles, split lip.
So when she walked into this new gym for the first time, she expected the usual. But what she didn’t expect was her attention to immediately get stolen by the girl in the corner.
Vi.
Abby knew who she was before anyone introduced them. Everyone knew Vi. She carried herself a certain way, something was wrong with you if you didn’t notice her.
Violet didn’t care about form or looking pretty for the camera. She had reasons to be angry, and the best way to deal with that was to put all of her anger into her fists.
Abby stood there, analyzing her.
It bothered Abby, the way that Vi wasn’t making mistakes. Irritated her, even.
Not only was she not making mistakes, she was making reckless choices. The kind of choices that Abby’s coach would make her do suicides for.
But as for Vi, they looked perfect and effortless.
That bothered her.
“You know, staring is considered rude.”
Abby looked up. Vi had stopped punching the bag and was looking directly at her, blue eyes sharp and amused.
Heat rose on Abby’s neck, which was ridiculous because Abby Anderson did not get embarrassed.
“I wasn’t staring,” Abby said. “I was observing.”
Vi blinked. Then she snorted.
“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re somehow even more intimidating when you talk.”
Abby frowned slightly.
“That’s not a compliment.”
“I know.”
Vi pushed away from the bag, walking closer.
“That’s why it’s funny.”
Abby had met plenty of fighters who tried to get into her head before a match. They would talk too much, act bigger than they actually were, try to convince themselves they weren’t nervous, but Vi wasn’t doing that.
She wasn’t trying to scare her, she just seemed like that naturally.
“You’re Abby.” Vi said.
“And you’re Violet.”
“Wow, look at us. We both know basic introductions.”
Abby almost smiled.
Almost.
“I’ve heard about you.”
Vi’s eyebrows lifted as she smirked.
“Good things, I hope?”
“Not exactly.”
“Ouch.”
She pressed a hand to her chest dramatically.
There was something about the way Vi said things that should have annoyed Abby. The sarcasm. The confidence. The complete lack of fear.
“You always this serious?” Vi asked.
“Yes.” Abby answered flatly.
“That’s tragic.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you ever have fun?”
The question, surprisingly, wasn’t easy to answer.
Abby opened her mouth, preparing a defensive response, but nothing came out.
“I have fun,” She said eventually.
Vi raised one eyebrow.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Abby hesitated.
Vi noticed, and that’s all it took.
“Oh my god,” she snorted. “You don’t!”
“I do,” Now Abby was heated. “You absolutely do not.”
Abby crossed her arms.
“You’ve known me for five minutes.”
“And I’m already right, aren’t I?”
That should have annoyed her.
It did annoy her.
But there was something else there.
Abby didn’t have a name for it yet.
Why was this girl so comfortable around her? It was annoying and confusing, but most importantly, it was impossible to ignore.
“You know,” Vi continued, stepping borderline into Abby’s personal space, “for someone who punches people for a living, you’re kind of terrible at letting yourself relax.”
Abby stared at her.
“Do you psychoanalyze everyone?” Abby said.
“No.”
“Then why me?”
The question slipped out before Abby could stop it.
For the first time, Vi went quiet. Only for a second, but Abby noticed.
“Maybe because you’re interesting,” Vi said slowly.
Abby almost laughed.
“Interesting?”
She snorted.
“Yeah.”
“I’m a boxer.”
“So am I.” Vi replied. “So there isn’t much else.”
Vi tilted her head.
“Abby, that's the saddest thing you’ve said all day.”
Abby looked away as the silence between them grew longer.
“Come on, champion.”
Abby looked at her.
“Where?”
“To the ring.”
“You’re challenging me?”
“I’m seeing if all of your headlines are true.”
“And if they aren’t?”
Vi smirked as she stepped backward, moving towards the ropes.
“Then I guess I’ll have to find out.”
Abby followed her into the ring because saying no would have been admitting something she wasn’t ready to admit: Violet had gotten her attention. Abby Anderson did not get distracted.
She climbed through the ropes, tightening the straps of her gloves while Vi stood across from her, looking entirely too pleased with herself. Like this was exactly where she wanted Abby. Not physically, not just in the ring, somewhere closer.
“You’re smiling,” Vi said.
Abby looked up. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
Vi tilted her head, studying her with the same intensity Abby had been using on her just 20 minutes before. “You’re different than I expected,” Vi said.
Abby raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed?”
“No.”
Vi’s answer came quickly(just like me).
Abby noticed.
Vi noticed that Abby noticed.
“No?” Abby copied.
Before Vi could answer, a whistle cut through the gym.
“Absolutley not.”
They both turned. It was Caitlyn.
“You two have been talking for 30 minutes,” She said. “That’s already 30 minutes too long.”
Vi rolled her eyes. “We’re just getting acquainted.”
“No.” Caitlyn deadpanned. “You’re circling each other like stray dogs.”
A few people nearby laughed.
Vi looked back at Abby. “So?” she said.
“So?” Abby mimicked again.
“You gonna keep observing me, or are we actually gonna do this.”
Abby didn’t answer. She made her gloves even tighter.
“Oouu shii,” someone muttered from the back.
“Coach—”
Caitlyn sighed before anyone could finish.
“Three rounds,” She said, pointing between them. “Technical spar. You hear me? Nobody’s trying to prove anything.”
Vi grinned.
“Too late.”
The canvas gave slightly beneath Abby’s feet. Vi bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, shoulders loose, and a grin already tugging at her mouth.
“Do you always smile before a fight?” Abby asked.
“Only when I’m excited.”
“I’m not that excited.”
Vi laughed.
“We’ll see.”
The bell rang.
Vi moved first.
She crossed the distance so quickly Abby barely had time to settle into her stance before a jab came snapping toward her face. Abby slipped it cleanly. Another jab. Blocked. A hook.
Abby ducked under it, stepping inside and driving a straight right toward Vi’s ribs. Vi twisted away at the last second.
“Almost,” she said.
Abby frowned. “You talk too much.”
“You listen too much.”
Vi threw another combination, faster this time. Abby caught the first punch on her glove, rolled the second, but the third clipped her shoulder hard enough to make her step back.
The gym erupted instantly.
“That’s it, Vi!”
“Abby, keep your hands up!”
Abby ignored all of it.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had to think this hard during a fight.
A spar, nonetheless.
Vi wasn’t predictable. Every time Abby thought she’d figured her out, Vi changed the rhythm completely.
“You’ve got that look again,” Vi called as they circled each other.
“What look?”
“Like you’re trying to solve something.”
Abby lunged.
Vi slipped outside the punch, laughing as Abby’s glove cut through air.
“See?” She taunted. “Hold still.”
Abby huffed.
“Make me.”
Abby did.
She caught Vi with a clean left hook that snapped her head to the side. For a second, the entire gym went silent.
Vi blinked once, and then smiled.
“There she is.”
Instead of getting angry, she looked…pleased?
Something in Abby’s chest tightened, but she didn’t have time to figure out why, because Vi was coming at her again.
…
The first round ended before Abby could decide whether she was frustrated or impressed.
Vi fought like the rules didn’t apply to her. She slipped punches that should have landed, laughed when Abby clipped her shoulder, and somehow managed to make every attack seem like a personal vendetta.
“You pull your punches?” Vi asked as they circled each other.
“No.”
“Liar.”
The bell cut off Abby’s response.
Round two was meaner.
Abby stopped trying to box around Vi’s style and started boxing through it. A stiff jab split Vi’s guard. Vi answered with a hook that caught Abby high on the cheekbone.
The crack echoed through the gym.
Someone whistled.
Neither of them acknowledged it.
By the third round, talking had become impossible. Every breath mattered. Sweat blurred Abby’s vision for half of a second before she blinked it away.
Vi looked just as exhausted, but she was still smiling.
That smile was going to drive Abby insane.
The final exchange came fast.
Vi stepped in with another reckless combination, but Abby read it this time, pivoted, and landed a clean cross that forced Vi to stumble a step before catching herself against the ropes.
The bell rang and neither of them moved. For a long second they just stood there, both breathing hard, sweat clinging to their skin, gloves still raised. Caitlyn climbed through the ropes before either of them could decide to keep going.
“Thats enough.” She said sternly.
“We weren’t done,” Vi said, not taking her eyes off of Abby.
“You are now.” Caitlyn snaps.
Abby undid her glove and peeled her mouthguard out with one hand. “She’s right. This is a spar, not an actual fight.”
Vi rolled her eyes. “You’re too reasonable”
Vi shook her head, still grinning despite the bruise already blooming beneath her eye.
“You hit harder than I expected,” Vi said quietly.
“You talk more than I expected,” Abby muttered, rolling her eyes.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It’ll do.”
—
The locker room was quieter than the gym. The dull hum of the showers echoed off the tile walls and the dark lighting buzzed overhead. Abby sat on the metal bench, slowly unwinding the tape from her hands. Her knuckles were already swelling beneath the faded white wraps.
The door swung open.
Of course.
Violet.
She walked in carrying her gloves over one shoulder, a towel draped loosely around her neck. A fresh bruise colored the edge of her jaw, and somehow it suited her.
“Are you following me now?” Abby asked without looking up. She didn’t dare smile.
“I use this locker room too, champ.”
She smirked.
Abby hummed.
Vi dropped onto the bench across from her with a tired sigh. For the first time since they met, neither of them spoke, but the silence wasn’t awkward. Abby focused on loosening another strip of tape.
“You’ve got a nasty right hand,” Vi said eventually.
“You’ve got a terrible defense.”
“I know.”
“You say that like you’re proud of it.”
Vi shrugged. “I’ve survived this long.”
Abby looked up, and Vi was already looking at her. Not with that cocky grin she’d worn all night, but just…looking.
“What?” Abby asked.
Vi blinked, like she’d been caught.
“Nothing.”
“You’ve been staring.”
Vi laughed under her breath.
“Funny.”
Abby tilted her head.
“Getting called out doesn’t feel so good, does it?”
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Vi’s mouth before she could look away, rubbing absentmindedly at the bruise forming along her jaw. Abby noticed the wince she tried to hide.
“You should ice that.” She said, gesturing to the bruise.
Vi glanced back at her.
“You worried about me, champ?”
She smirked.
“No.” Abby muttered, heat rising to her face.
“That wasn’t a very convincing no.”
“I just don’t like seeing good fighters get sloppy.”
“Good save.”
Vi chuckled.
“Do you always have something to say?”
“Only when the company’s interesting.”
The words hung between them. Vi didn’t seem to realize she’d said them out loud until a second later. Maybe she’d done it on purpose. Abby couldn’t tell.
For someone who spent her life reading opponents, Vi was frustratingly difficult to figure out.
“So…” Vi said, breaking the silence as she stood and slung her duffel bag over one shoulder. “You got plans tonight?”
Abby frowned.
“No.”
“No?”
“I train.”
Vi laughed.
“Of course you do.”
“What?” Abby glared.
“Nothing. It’s just…”
She shook her head.
“You’ve got to have a life outside of boxing.”
“I do.”
“Oh yeah?”
Abby hesitated.
Vi pointed at her with a knowing smile.
“Exactly.”
Abby looked away, suddenly finding the loose end of her hand wrap very interesting.
“I didn’t say I didn't.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Another beat of silence passed before Vi stepped closer, close enough that Abby caught the faint scent of soap beneath the sweat and leather.
“There’s a place a couple blocks from here,” Vi said. “Nothing fancy. Cheap drinks, terrible music, decent burgers.”
Abby looked up.
“You asking me out?”
Vi’s eyebrows shot up.
“What? No. I’m trying to get you a life outside of boxing.”
Abby’s expression didn’t change, but something warm settled low in her chest.
“I thought you said I was boring.”
“I did.”
“And now you want to spend more time with me?”
Vi let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Don’t make me regret this,” She said.
“I bet you already are,” Abby replied.
“Probably.”
A laugh escaped Abby before she could stop it.
Vi stared at her for a second, looking almost startled.
“There it is,” she said quietly.
“What?” Abby asked.
“A smile.”
Abby felt heat pool in her stomach and creeped up the back of her neck.
“I didn’t smile.” She said.
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You really have no idea when you do, huh?”
Abby opened her mouth to argue but nothing came out.
“Come on,” Vi said, nodding toward the door. “One drink. If you hate me after an hour, I’ll never ask again.”
Abby knew she should say no. She’d known Vi for less than a day. She was competitive, reckless, impossible to read, and entirely too good at getting under Abby’s skin.
Which was exactly why Abby found herself standing, grabbing her gym bag, and falling into step beside her.
“One drink,” she said.
Vi bumped her shoulder lightly as they walked towards the exit.
“That’s all I was asking for, champ.”