Since he's taking regular bartending shifts again, Indy has stepped his fitness regime back up. This will be his third time in the gym in the last week.
"Woah! Go Vee," he comments as he strolls in, attired in an aging pair of sneakers, black sweat pants and a faded gray sleeveless T-shirt. He sounds impressed, but as always, it's hard to tell if he's being sincere.
Indy glances at the air wafting action. He's a red-blooded male; it would be weirder if he didn't. He then wrinkles his nose. The narrative was right.
"Hardly," he chuckles. "I'm gonna be pumping iron and all that extra manly stuff. And then I'm gonna run up the mountains outside with a fifty pound sack of rocks on my back."
"There's never a drum set around when I need one."
He flashes her a grin as he heads over to the bench press apparatus. Once there, he starts hefting forty-five pound weights onto the bar, two on each side.
"I haven't been doing much fleeing recently though. Getting a bit flabby. It's not good for bartending. Need to be in shape for that job."
It's got nothing to do with looking good for the ladies. Or for one particular lady. Nope.
He eyes Veronica as she arrives at his station, specifically her slight frame.
"Uh. I was kidding about the spotting," he goes on. "There's two hundred and fifteen pounds on the bar. It's customary for someone to be able to handle the weight when they spot someone."
To be fair, he doesn't look flabby. He's not perhaps as ripped as he was in the Temple of Doom bridge scene, but there's a good deal of muscle bulk still in evidence. It just needs a bit of toning.
"This is a walk in the park. I've done two-forty before."
He has too. For one rep. Mike had to help him for the last few inches, and he could barely lift a coffee cup for three days after.
"Woah! Go Vee," he comments as he strolls in, attired in an aging pair of sneakers, black sweat pants and a faded gray sleeveless T-shirt. He sounds impressed, but as always, it's hard to tell if he's being sincere.
"Hope that's not me you're visualizing."
Reply
"Jones." Her words clipped short as she catches her breath. "Nah. Not today."
Reply
Smirk firmly in place, he drops his towel and water bottle on a chair and wanders over to Veronica.
"Not sure I've ever seen you work up a sweat before," he says, looking her up and down.
"Except when we were fighting for our lives at Hassim's place. Gotta admit, I wasn't really paying attention to it then."
Reply
"Not much sweating to be done in a bar. Most bars." A side glance. "Not this bar."
She tugs at the v-shaped neckline of her burgundy workout tank, venting cool air down her cleavage. This is not as sexy as it sounds.
"And you? Here for some yoga? Pilates? Yogalates?"
Reply
"Hardly," he chuckles. "I'm gonna be pumping iron and all that extra manly stuff. And then I'm gonna run up the mountains outside with a fifty pound sack of rocks on my back."
"After that, maybe some time on the elliptical."
Reply
Reply
Indy rolls his eyes.
"Don't make me bring the whip up again. 'Cause I will."
Reply
A gulp of water, then she nods to the bag. "Hence the punching."
Reply
"Just as long as that's all it is. Last time you were this mean to me, you needed an exorcist, not exercise."
Reply
Then, like he'd just shown off his cartwheeling ability, "That was good. Nice work."
Reply
He flashes her a grin as he heads over to the bench press apparatus. Once there, he starts hefting forty-five pound weights onto the bar, two on each side.
"Wanna spot me?"
Reply
She wanders over, rolling her shoulders as she does so, stretching tired muscles.
"So," as he finishes setting up. "Come here often? The gym I mean."
Beat.
"I mean, I always thought you got all your exercise fleeing certain death."
Reply
"I haven't been doing much fleeing recently though. Getting a bit flabby. It's not good for bartending. Need to be in shape for that job."
It's got nothing to do with looking good for the ladies. Or for one particular lady. Nope.
He eyes Veronica as she arrives at his station, specifically her slight frame.
"Uh. I was kidding about the spotting," he goes on. "There's two hundred and fifteen pounds on the bar. It's customary for someone to be able to handle the weight when they spot someone."
Reply
She frowns at him, hands on her hips.
"What! I thought you were kidding with the weight. You're going to bench all of that?"
Reply
"I'm offended. You don't think I can?"
To be fair, he doesn't look flabby. He's not perhaps as ripped as he was in the Temple of Doom bridge scene, but there's a good deal of muscle bulk still in evidence. It just needs a bit of toning.
"This is a walk in the park. I've done two-forty before."
He has too. For one rep. Mike had to help him for the last few inches, and he could barely lift a coffee cup for three days after.
Reply
She crosses her arms across her chest, but the fierceness of her look subsides a little.
"I am keen to be proven wrong. And ready to run to the infirmary if I'm not."
Reply
Leave a comment