Palm trees just don't fight back.
Spike had learnt, long ago, that one of the best ways to deal with tension was a good physical fight. The problem was ever since Faith had disappeared he'd been without a regular sparring partner. He wasn't going to let that get him out of practice, so he still worked out nearly every day, aiming kicks and punches at a palm tree.
He longed for the dynamic of a responsive parthner, though. He wanted someone who would fight back, who would challenge him and make him think on his feet. Nothing else could really substitute for that, and it was an important skill to keep in practice.
He was mentally going through people he knew on the island he could approach about sparring as he walked to the beach for that morning's session. The duster was discarded, draped over a rock and joined by his tight black t-shirt before he began practicing; swing, crouch, spin, up and sweeping kick and--there was another shadow on the ground next to his. "Wanna be next?" he offered, wry and smirking as he turned to see who had joined him.
[Set to this morning. ST/LT just fine. Half-nekkid vamp!]
He longed for the dynamic of a responsive parthner, though. He wanted someone who would fight back, who would challenge him and make him think on his feet. Nothing else could really substitute for that, and it was an important skill to keep in practice.
He was mentally going through people he knew on the island he could approach about sparring as he walked to the beach for that morning's session. The duster was discarded, draped over a rock and joined by his tight black t-shirt before he began practicing; swing, crouch, spin, up and sweeping kick and--there was another shadow on the ground next to his. "Wanna be next?" he offered, wry and smirking as he turned to see who had joined him.
[Set to this morning. ST/LT just fine. Half-nekkid vamp!]