Fueling the Fire
#2 of Egg Nog & Chocolate
Author's Note: As before, Myle Hai (and Lynda and Sasha) are owned by Brahma Minotaur and used with permission. Not quite the end of the first Jordan Bear story - it dragged out into a third part, but I'm getting there.
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Fueling the Fire
by BlackWolfe Coyoten
"Lynda started it." I'm willing to bet that not a day goes by at Myle's gym in which someone doesn't say that. It happens to be true, but it still sounds like an excuse.
I'd been working for Myle for all of three days, floating around the weight room and helping people out where they needed it. Actually, I'm told I got more than a little annoying in my desire to help, but I wanted to prove to Myle that she was right about me.
My first day working there was full of surprises. First of all, I was completely unprepared for the applause. Honestly, I got all choked up - I'd no idea I was well-liked around the gym. Secondly, it turns out I was probably the only regular at Myle's gym who didn't know about her special ability. This explained the occasional switch between the primary and secondary locations, I supposed, but it was still a shock.
And, of course, Lynda made a bet on it. She won the bet - that I'd take the job - but lost a side-bet about who would win the arm-wrestling match. Since we both let go, it would have to be considered a draw. (I suppose that since Myle grabbed on with her left hand first, it could be said that I won by default, but I refuse to win anything by default.)
It turned out, two days after that, that the argument hadn't ended. In between bouts of overenthusiastic helpfulness, I was burning off some steam on the treadmills, and watching Lynda and Sasha continue their debate. I figured it was a given - Myle would win if only by virtue of her incredible ability to grow beyond the challenge. But let them have their debate, no?
That's when the rat walked in. He looked familiar, and it took me a moment to place him. David Arness was a professional bodybuilder who was taking the bodybuilding world by storm. He'd recently taken second place in the North American championships, and was reportedly gunning for the world title, with a good chance of winning.
He immediately walked up to Sasha and Lynda and joined the conversation. Wasted effort, I knew, since Sasha wasn't into guys and I rarely saw Lynda doing anything more than flirt. I found myself wondering what they were talking about, especially when both of them pointed at me and the rat started laughing.
The wolf and hyena shook their heads, and he started glaring at me. Great. I wondered what I'd done to piss in his breakfast. Then the money came out. "Oh, crap," I muttered. "Lynda made a bet."
Mike, one of the regulars, looked up at me from where he was dusting his paws. "So what's new?"
I sighed. "Lynda made a bet, and it looks like it's up to me to win it for her."
Mike grinned. "Oh, this ought to be good." Mike had been around long enough to know I'm stronger than I look. A whole lot stronger. It would be a powerlifting contest, to be sure.
I ran down the treadmill and hopped off, meeting the three of them halfway as they approached me. "Okay, Lynda," I said, "what have you gotten me into?"
Lynda grinned. "No big, Jo," she said. "Dave here thinks he can outlift anyone here, and since Myle ain't here for another hour, you're our number one gun."
David looked me over, smirking. "You guys are serious," he said. "You honestly think this runt is going to outlift me?" He shook his head. "Hey, it's your money, ladies."
Lynda shrugged. "Just be ready to pay up when you lose, Arness."
"Okay, runt," the rat said. "You first, or me?"
"Oh, by all means, visitors before home team," I said.
While he started loading weights on a bar, Sasha came up to me. "Hey, Jo, I know you hate being the center of attention, but do me a favor and kick this guy's ass, would you?"
I arched an eyebrow. "That bad?"
Sasha frowned, and began counting off on her fingers. "Well, let's see: He insulted you, he insulted the gym, he insulted me, Lynda, and all female bodybuilders as a group, and then Myle specifically."
I felt my heartbeat surge a bit harder and faster with each word. "Right. One humiliated rat, coming up."
As soon as I saw David setting up, I knew I was at a disadvantage. He'd loaded about four hundred and fifty pounds on the bar - no problem. But he was getting set to do a clean and jerk, and my low body weight made that an iffy proposition. I could lift the weight, but if I got too excited, which I was prone to do, I'd overbalance myself, since I would be lifting over four times my weight.
He did a great job, I have to admit. It was an obvious strain, but he was lifting at a world-class level. There was a little bit of wobble during the jerk, but overall, a very impressive job. About half the gym, myself included, applauded his effort.
And then it was my turn. I nodded to Sasha and Lynda, who took the cue and added another hundred pounds to the bar. With most of the gym watching, and the rest slowly gathering 'round to see what the fuss was, I started to feel nervous.
"You can do this," I told myself. "It's just metal. It's not going to outsmart you. It's not going to stop you. It won't even slow you down. It's just another exercise."
After chalking my paws, I stepped up to the bar. Close your eyes, I thought. Nobody here but you and the bar. No pressure. No strain. No sweat. I wrapped my paws around the bar, opened my eyes just long enough to make sure nobody was too close. The last thing I needed was someone in the way if I overbalanced - No! Squelch that thought. I would be fine.
I closed my eyes again, lowered my hips, and pulled. Already, I could feel it going wrong - I was stronger than I'd been the last time I'd tried this, and I nearly hit myself in the face with the bar. "Fix it, fix it," I muttered. "Do it for Myle." I got the weight under control, but the hard part was coming - the clean. I had to get the bar over my head without the momentum carrying me backwards into... I think it would have been the exercycles. No hesitation, I told myself, go!
The bar practically leapt over my head. Too much, I realized, too fast. I forced it to a stop, nearly took a step back, regained control. It helped that I maintained the right form - the squatting position lowered my center of gravity just enough to control the weight.
The overhead jerk was easy, compared to the clean. Simply lower myself and stand up again. No sweat. It wasn't until I'd finished, with the bar directly overhead, my legs straight, that I opened my eyes. The whole gym was staring at me. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck - thanks to my dark fur, nobody saw it.
Mr. Arness stood there, jaw slack, trying to speak. His jaw worked up and down, but no words came out. "For Myle," I muttered, then, just to show off a little, I started doing overhead presses with the weight. His astonishment grew, until I decided that enough was enough and lowered the bar to the floor after the fifth repetition.
While the room erupted in applause, making my blush even worse, I took a moment to confirm my suspicions - the exercycles were right behind me, all right. Worse yet, the expensive ones with the high definition screens that showed a simulated mountain biking trail. Myle would have killed me.
Lynda was demanding payment from the rat, when things got ugly.
"No way," he was saying. "No way, it cheated!"
I took a step towards him, fists clenching, then stopped myself. A good employee, I told myself, does not pummel a client into the ground, even if he does refer to you as 'it.' Things might have gotten ugly even then, if Myle hadn't come in.
"What the hell is going on here?"
I ducked my head. Great. Third day on the job, and I get caught wasting time on a bet against a customer. No wonder I couldn't get a job before this - I'm a lousy employee. Sasha filled Myle in on the bet and the competition, and I just hung my head further and further.
She looked at me. "Is this true, Jordan?"
I nodded. "Yes, ma'am," I said, not trusting myself to go further.
Myle looked around at the assembled clientele. "Please," she said, "someone, someone tell me we have video of this." She clapped a massive paw on my shoulder. "Our favorite bear doing a world-class clean-and-jerk?" She grinned. "And you didn't overbalance this time?"
I gaped at her. Wasn't she going to yell at me? "Um, no. I almost did, but... well... I can't afford to replace those exercycles."
Myle laughed, then looked over at Arness. "Okay, Mr. Arness. You're the one put a hundred bucks on being able to outlift anyone in my gym. Pay up."
The rat shook his head. "No way," he said. "That thing cheated. It's using magic or something."
Myle took a step closer to him, and, I noticed, got an inch or two taller as well. Given the fact she was taller than him to begin with, I doubt he noticed, but a few of the regulars did, and took a step back in case she decided to go further. "Did you just call one of my best employees a cheater and... and a thing?!" she snarled. "Mr. Arness, I've heard about you and your little scam. You pull this stunt in every city you compete in, and it's high time you were beaten at your own game." She clenched her fists at her sides. "Now pay up and get out, and be grateful it's not a real beating, because everyone in this gym would be more than happy to give you one of those, as well."
Arness, faced with that much angry tigress, did what anyone with half a brain would do: exactly what she said. Two fifties found their way into Lynda's greedy hands, and one rat found his rapid way out of the gym.
Shaking my head, I started putting the weights back, when Lynda came up beside me. "Hey, Jordan."
"Hey, Lynda." Still coming down off the adrenaline rush, I realized I had a litle quaver in my voice.
"So, Myle insists you earned this money," she said. "So here you go."
I looked at the hundred dollars she was holding out to me. What the hell would I do with a hundred extra dollars? Since I now worked at the gym, I didn't need to pay membership fees. My expenses took up less than half of my income. I didn't have rent to pay - I owned an old farm near the primary gym. I shook my head.
"Take it, would you?" she said. "Myle's glaring at me, so please take it."
I laughed. Myle's glare, rumor had it, could cow the most stubborn of evildoers - she should be a superhero. I reached out, hesitantly, and took one of the fifty dollar bills. "You made the bet," I said. "Otherwise, there wouldn't be any money at all. Half and half?"
She grinned. "Not quite," she said. "I bet Myle fifty bucks you'd take half."
I laughed. "Of course you did," I said. "Now all I have to do is figure out what I'm going to do with an extra fifty bucks."
Lynda stared at me. "What are you, a shut-in?"
I shrugged. "You're looking at my social life," I said.
Lynda grinned. "Oh," she said. "In that case, I know exactly what you can do with an extra fifty bucks."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. There's this nightclub I think you ought to check out." She fished in her pockets and pulled out a business card. "Here ya go. Check it out - I expect a full report tomorrow."
I took the card and looked at it curiously. What the hell kind of night club, I wondered, called itself "Two Poles?"