Sparring

By Carol M.

Summary: Bobby teaches Darien some self-defense. Sequel to Keepin' My Keeper.

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: TpoC

Disclaimer: Don't own them, only love them

A few hours after Keepin' My Keeper

Darien paced outside the Keep door nervously, not sure if he really wanted to enter. He didn't need a shot and he wasn't injured, but he felt an overwhelming need to see her. Her. His Keeper, Claire, the woman he seemed to be kissing these days. She said it would be complicated and he was beginning to see she was right.

He hadn't planned on any of it happening. His Keeper had always been just that, his Keeper; the person in charge of his health and sanity. He was pretty sure that somewhere in the Keeper handbook there was a rule that said you shouldn't kiss your Kept. Yeah, well, they had pretty much broken that rule three times in the past couple of months. He was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing.

Darien took a deep breath. "Okay, Fawkes, you can do this. Just pretend like nothing happened. Tell her you only came down here to ask her a question," he said to himself.

Aw crap, a question. What the hell question was he going to ask her? He started to wrack his brain.

"Hey Fawkes, what the hell are you doing?" asked Bobby curiously as he walked down the hall towards Darien.

Darien jumped. "Ah nothing, nothing at all," he said innocently.

"You need a shot or something?" Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow.

Darien shook his head. "Ah no, I was ah… just…"

Darien's heart started pounding as the Keep door opened and Claire emerged. She jumped back and clutched her chest when she saw Darien and Bobby. "Bloody, don't do that!" she said.

"Sorry, Keep," said Bobby. "Fawkes was pacing outside the door like a lost puppy."

Claire looked at Darien, a small blush sweeping across her face. "Did you need something, Darien?" she asked.

Darien's breath hitched in his throat, preventing him from forming any words. He absently wondered how Claire could look so beautiful after puking her guts in his toilet not seven hours earlier.

"Um…well, I was wondering if… if…" struggled Darien. An idea popped into his head. "I was wondering if you could show me how to give myself the counteragent?"

Claire sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Darien, we've been over this. If you gave yourself your own shots, you undoubtedly wouldn't regulate yourself and you would build up a tolerance," she said in her usual Keeper spiel.

"Oh yeah, that," said Darien, hiding behind a mask of sarcasm.

"Yeah that," said Claire, licking her lips slightly in amusement. "Is there anything else you needed?"

Darien swallowed, still tasting her in his mouth. "Um…no Keep, that's all I wanted to know, thanks," he said awkwardly. "You feeling better?" he asked, forgetting that Bobby was standing next to him. "Aw crap," he muttered to himself when he realized what he had done.

Claire gave him a sharp look. "I'm fine, Darien," she said.

Bobby eyed them both suspiciously. "Fine, fine, why wouldn't she be fine?" he asked, looking at Darien and then turning his glance to Claire. "Are you sick or something, Keep?"

Claire smiled. "Oh, no, no, I'm fine," she said reassuringly.

Bobby shook his head in confusion. "Okay then," he said. He looked back over at Darien. "Come on Fawkes, we got a date."

Darien nearly choked. "A date?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah buddy, don't you remember? Today's the day I'm going to teach you to fight like a real man," he said.

"Hobbes, I think I'm perfectly capable of defend…"

"Nope, you suck, my friend," interrupted Bobby. "You need a trained professional to introduce you to the wonderful world of self-defense."

"Great," said Darien dryly.

Claire smiled. "Well kids, you run along now. Try not to kill one another," she said.

"Don't worry, Keep, I'll be real careful with Gumby here. He breaks very easily after all," said Bobby as he gave Darien a small shove.

Darien rolled his eyes and laughed sarcastically.

Bobby pointed down the hall. "Let's go, I-man."

Darien gave Claire one last look and started walking down the hall, with Bobby in tow.

Claire sighed deeply and walked to the ladies room, thinking about her lab rat.

*******

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, aren't we going to use gloves?" asked Darien as he looked around the locker room, not seeing any sparring equipment.

"Fawkes, real men don't use gloves. You think that Chrysalis is going stop and put on boxing gloves so they don't damage that pretty face of yours?" said Bobby smugly. "What's the matter, afraid I'm going to kick your ass?"

Darien snorted. "Hey now, you might be surprised at some of my moves there, Hobbesy," said Darien as he took off his shirt and put on a pair of shorts.

"Hmm, funny, I don't remember you using any of those so called moves. As I recall, you pretty much end up flat on your face," said Bobby as he took off his own shirt and put on a pair of sweat pants.

"Ha, ha," said Darien as he threw his clothes into a locker and closed it.

Bobby neatly folded up his clothes and also placed them in a locker. He eyed Darien. "So how's the Keep doing lately?" he asked out of the blue.

Darien swallowed in a panic. "I don't know, fine I guess. How would I know?" he asked.

Bobby shrugged. "Oh I don't know. Just seems like you two have become a little closer lately," he said nonchalantly.

"Hobbes, are you still upset about catching Claire and I at the docks?" asked Darien guiltily.

"Upset, why would I be upset? You were both under the influence of toxic chemicals that made you both wacko. If you would been in your right minds, it never would have happened," said Bobby as he walked out of the locker room. "Besides, Keep wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole," he added under his breath.

"What was that?" asked Darien as he followed Bobby.

"Oh nothing," said Bobby as he walked into the gym towards the sparring ring.

"No, no, I think I detected an insult somewhere in there, my friend," said Darien.

"Your hearing things, pal," said Bobby with a large smile.

"Yeah, whatever," whispered Darien.

Bobby reached the ring and stepped up through the ropes. Darien followed with a general lack of enthusiasm.

Bobby clapped his hands together with excitement. "Okay Fawkes, school is in session," said Bobby.

"Oh goodie," said Darien sarcastically.

"Okay, first, I'm going to show you how to sweep," said Bobby. He slipped his foot around Darien's and pulled, sending his partner roughly to the floor of the ring.

"Your turn, Fawkesy," said Bobby with a grin.

Darien took a moment to recover his breath and then grabbed Bobby's hand, letting him pull him to a standing position.

"Like this?" asked Darien as he quickly bent his foot, hooked it to Bobby's and sent him to the floor.

"Exactly," said Bobby through gritted teeth. "Now we will move on to the challenging world of karate chops," he said as he pulled himself off the floor.

He held his arm out and the swung his hand sharply at Darien's throat. Darien silently winced at the blow, unable to breathe or talk.

"Oh, I'm sorry, buddy. Did I do that a little too hard?" asked Bobby in amusement.

Darien put his hand on his knees, trying to catch his breath. A hacking cough came out of his mouth.

Bobby stepped forward, slightly concerned. "Hey Fawkes, you okay?" he asked, resting a hand on Darien's back.

Darien slowly stood up and quickly swung his own hand at Bobby's throat. "Never been better," he said hoarsely as Bobby bent down in surprise and started to cough. "How about you?" asked Darien.

"Fine," Hobbes rasped. He took a deep breath and recovered. "Next lesson: a well-placed kick is the most valuable weapon you have," said Bobby as he jumped up and aimed a hard kick at Darien's midsection.

Darien groaned and fell to the floor, holding his now aching stomach.

"Yeah, and while the perps down there, you take your leg and kick em right in the ole cojones," said Bobby as he grasped Darien's shoulders and placed a kick to Darien's groin.

Darien moaned and rolled over, laying in the fetal position to protect himself. "That was just wrong, Hobbes," said Darien through clenched teeth.

"All's fair in love, war and self defense, my friend," responded Bobby.

Darien picked himself off the floor slowly, clutching his stomach and fighting the urge not to throw up all over Bobby. Without warning, he swung his other arm at Bobby, catching him by surprise. The punch landed on Bobby's cheek and sent him a few steps forward.

"That's the spirit, Fawkes!" yelled Bobby as he swung his own arm and caught Darien in the eye.

In response, Darien brought his leg up and kicked Bobby in the chest.

"Not bad," said Bobby breathlessly as he brought his fist up and punched Darien in the nose. Blood slowly started to pour out of it. Darien wiped at it with his hand and then threw another punch, catching Bobby squarely in the jaw. "What can I say? I had a good teacher," said Darien between breaths.

"The best," said Bobby as he spit out some blood and kicked Darien sharply in the ribs.

"Ow, god," moaned Darien as he bent over slightly. "Now you've made me mad!" he yelled as he sweeped Bobby onto the ground and kicked him in the back.

Bobby swung his leg up and caught Darien in the knee, forcing him to the ground with a howl. "Thought you had the upper hand, didn't you, kid?" asked Bobby smugly, as he stood up. "Well here's a little tidbit, nobody ever gets the upper hand with Bobby Hobbes," he said as he kicked Darien in the ribs again.

Darien reacted by sweeping Bobby to the ground again, this time knocking the wind out of him.

They both laid still on the floor of the ring for a few moments, chests heaving and sweat dripping down their bodies.

"I think that's enough school for one day, partner," heaved Bobby.

"Yeah, okay," replied Darien weakly.

Bobby gingerly sat up and spit more blood. He noticed red welts starting to form on Darien's stomach and chest. "Ouch," he said with sympathy.

Darien looked up at him and smiled. "You don't look so great there yourself," he said as he noticed Bobby's jaw was already starting to swell.

Bobby stuck his hand out and Darien latched on to it. They both stood up with the help of the other.

"Um, Hobbes, I think we need to go see the Keep," said Darien as he took a step and nearly fell over from the pain in his knee and chest.

"That's affirmative," said Bobby as he ran a hand over his aching back.

They wrapped their arms around one another and slowly and painfully made their way to the locker room.

******

"Oh my god! What happened?" asked Claire with concern as she watched Darien and Bobby drag their broken bodies into the Keep.

"Self defense," said Darien with a wan smile.

"Fawkes is learning the tricks of the trade pretty well," said Bobby.

Claire led Darien towards the counteragent chair and sat Bobby on a lab table. "I thought the point of self defense was to avoid getting your ass kicked," she said to both of them in disgust.

She quickly ran to the refrigerator and pulled out several ice packs. Then she ran to her medical bag and took out some bandages. She stepped to Darien and started wiping at his bloody nose.

"I think you should check out Hobbesy first, Keep," he said, wincing. "I got him pretty good."

Bobby shook his head. "Nonsense, Fawkes is just putting on a brave face. Check him out first," he said.

Claire rolled her eyes and lifted up Darien's shirt. She sighed in disgust when she saw all the bruises. "Did you really have to damage each other so much?" she said, looking over at Bobby with anger.

She picked up an ice pack and placed it across Darien's middle. Then she stepped over to Bobby and wiped at the blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. She lifted up his shirt and saw a bruise on his chest as well as one on his back. She took one icepack and placed it on his chest. Then she picked up another and placed it on his back.

She stepped to Darien and shook her head, noticing his black eye. "Where else?" she asked.

Darien meekly pointed to his knee. She rolled up his pants and winced when she saw the deep bruise on his kneecap. She picked up yet another ice pack and placed it against the bruise.

She removed the icepack on Darien's midsection and started probing it, causing Darien to groan inadvertently. She replaced the icepack and then did the same thing to Bobby, eliciting the same reaction.

When she was finished cleaning them up, she threw away the bloody bandages and put her hands on her hips. "Well neither of you has any broken bones, just a lot of bruising. Especially you, Darien," she said, as she looked over at him.

"Well I guess that means I won," said Bobby with a smile.

Darien rolled his eyes and laid back in the chair.

"Both of you are on medical leave for the rest of the day," she said, eyeing Darien.

"Nope, nope, that won't do, Keep. I've got a ton of paperwork to finish up," said Bobby as he stepped off the lab table and took off the icepacks. "Bobby Hobbes has taken beatings much worse than this and still managed to finish the day on the clock," he said.

Claire shook her head. "Fine, whatever, you're restricted to desk duty then," she said.

"Fine," said Bobby as he glanced at Darien. "Sorry partner."

Darien looked at Bobby and smiled. "I'm sorry too, man," he said, holding out his hand. The pair slapped hands with enthusiasm.

"I'm going up to my office if anyone needs me," said Bobby as he walked towards the door.

"Catch ya later, partner," said Darien.

"Bye, D," he said. He glanced at Claire and smiled. "Bye Keep," he said longingly.

Claire formed a small smile. "Bye Bobby," she said softly.

As soon as Bobby was gone, Claire looked sharply at Darien. "We can't do this, Darien," she said. "I'm not getting in the middle of your friendship with Bobby."

"Claire I…"

"No, Darien it's wrong. I'm your doctor and you're my patient. We shouldn't get involved," she said firmly.

Darien stared up at her with anger. "Well if that's the way you feel, then I guess that's the way it'll be," he said as he slowly stood up from the counteragent chair and threw the icepacks to the ground.

"See ya later, Keep," he said as he quickly limped out the door.

"Darien, wait," called Claire after him, but he had already left.

Claire picked up the fallen icepacks and threw them in the fridge with anger.

"Aw crap," she whispered.

******

At seven o 'clock that night, Darien pledged to himself that he would never spar with Bobby Hobbes again. Every movement sent pain shooting through either his chest or his knee. The only position that was halfway comfortable was lying perfectly still in his bed, but that was becoming very boring.

He sighed as he thought of the mess his life had become in one short day. He had fought with his best friend and he had screwed things up with Claire. Not that he really knew what had been going on with Claire in the first place.

He was about to flip on the television and forget all of his worries when he heard a knock on the door. "Come in, it's open," he yelled, not wanting to move.

His mouth fell open in surprise when he saw Claire walk through the door.

"Keep?" he said with uncertainty.

Claire walked to his bed and put her finger over his lips. "I don't know what I'm doing here," she said simply.

Darien removed her finger from his lips. "The same thing I was doing this morning outside the Keep," he said.

"I just don't things to get weird between all of us," she said, looking up at him. "But damn it, Darien, all I want to do is kiss you," she said.

"Yeah I know the feeling," he said with a smile.

Without warning, she leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips. "Bum," she said, pulling away. "I don't know what this is, Darien," she said.

He shook his head. "Don't ask me, you're the smart one here," he said. He cleared his throat and looked up at her. "We have to tell Hobbes about whatever it is," he said firmly.

Claire nodded. "Yeah," she said.

"The sooner, the better," he said.

"Right," she said.

"I don't want to hurt him," said Darien plainly.

"I know," she said.

They stared longingly at one another, wanting to continue, but not sure if they should. "I should go," said Claire quickly.

Darien nodded. "That might be best," he said.

She leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Feel better," she said.

"I already do," he said with a smile.

He watched her walk out the door and then he placed his pillow over his head in frustration. Why couldn't his life ever be simple?

That's All Folks