"Sorry I'm late!" Patrick said as he burst into the gym. Seeing me, he stumbled, thankfully near the mats where he could fall instead of near the weight racks. "T... Tabby."
"Patrick," I said. He looked so cute down there, his tie askew and his one shoe off, that I had to smile. "You all right?"
"Uh, yeah," he said. "Just that at the last minute when I was leaving work, I had a phone call from someone, it just delayed me a bit. Sorry about that."
"You should be apologizing to Sophie, not me," I teased. Sophie rolled her eyes and shook her head, walking past me to help Patrick up.
"Patrick, go change. Tabby's going to be doing her own thing today, but you're stuck with me." Patrick nodded, but his eyes were fixed on me, which I had to admit put some warm butterflies in my stomach. Sophie grabbed his jaw in her left hand and turned him towards her, pulling him down to look in the eye.
“Eyes on me. It’s time to work, got it? Don’t you so much as look at Tabby until we’re done.” It was actually cool, seeing her get strict like that. If Sophie ever got tired being a super friend, homemaker, vigilante and whatever else, she could always have been a damn good drill instructor.
"I understand," Patrick replied. "I'll do my best."
"You better," Sophie said, “Mark’s not the only one who can kick your ass.”
"Where is he, anyway?"
“Shopping for a few things,” Sophie replied. "He'll be back by dinner time. Now, get changed, be back here in five minutes for warm up."
Patrick nodded and disappeared, never once looking at me again. Sophie turned to me with a grin. "I think I'm going to like this workout. Now, do me a favor."
"What?" I asked, my nervousness evaporating under the light of Sophie's smile. Seriously, having her around makes life so much easier.
“Do you thing, but don’t tease him, I don't need him dropping something on his toes."
"So no hip extensions or toe touch deadlifts?" I asked.
Sophie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, and they're called Romanian deadlifts.”
While I’ll admit I enjoyed blowing off a little steam, not all of that came from what I was actually doing. Instead, there was a certain sadistic pleasure that came from watching Sophie put Patrick through his paces. She wasn't mean, and after that first time, she never even had to raise her voice except in encouragement.
But she wouldn't let him slack off, she wouldn't let him stop. I was amazed as she knew exactly what psychological buttons to push, how to get him to keep going. She twice stopped the to check his back, peeling off his tank top the second time to allow her to keep track. His stitches had come out nicely, but still the skin wasn't fully healed. He had a bright pink line that blazed against his skin as he worked, getting darker and darker as his skin flushed. Because of his new work and the need to hide his wound, he hadn't gotten any sun on his upper body in weeks. Trust me, if you ever want to prove that a man is of Irish heritage, just have him stay covered up in an office job for two weeks. Actually, it’d probably been more than that, considering how long Patrick had been working at city hall.
Despite his paleness, he was so handsome it made my throat close up. I kept losing count during my own exercises, and finally just went until my muscles ached, before I said screw it and sat back for another half hour and watched.
Finally, Sophie called an end to it, and Patrick collapsed onto the mats, dry heaving into the convenient plastic bucket Sophie kept on hand for just such purposes. "You did good. Next week, we can really begin."
Patrick nodded dumbly, unable to form words he was still sucking air so hard. Sophie came over to me and leaned in. "He did do well. Even if he did keep looking over to you."
"Did not."
Sophie looked at me, smirking, and nodded. "Just in the tired bits, when he needed a little extra motivation, I saw his eyes flicker over. You want to get out of here and get washed up for dinner?"
"Sure. Thanks, Sophie."
She shook her head lightly. "Don't thank me, thank Mark. I'd have put a bat upside his head, you know."
I laughed lightly and patted her on the cheek. "I know. That's what makes you so awesome. All right, I'll get washed up for dinner."
After a quick shower, I came into the dining area to find Mark serving up plates. "I heard Patrick survived," he said with a smile as he used a spatula to serve up large squares of lasagna onto our plates. "What did you think?"
"He's got a long way to go," I replied, "but like you said, he's got guts. He never gave up."
Mark heard the tone of my voice, and smiled. "I see. Well, have a seat, everything should be ready soon."