Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

RINGSIDE IN MADISON SQUARE GARDEN: KEVIN ATWATER VS FLORNYZ KLISCH :

//////

"Good evening to all in house spectators and our tv audience around the world, particularly the brave men and women of our
armed forces...let's get READY TO RUMMMMBLE! In the red corner: the current European champion and ranked number 10 by
Ring Magazine, the most trusted name in boxing...he hails from Hungary and boasts a stellar professional record of 25 wins,
6 losses and 1 draw...FLORENZ 'THE MARAUDER' KLISCH! KLISCH!" A few dozen Hungarian flags begin to wave in the seats
surrounding the ring, along with some raucous cheers; not raucous enough however to overcome the overwhelming roar from
the Atwater supporters.

"And in the gold corner...he is the: the WBC...WBA, WBO (with each title the ring announcer calls off the crowds frenzy grows)
and IBF titleholder; he was named Ring Magazine's KING OF THE RING for the third consecutive year and is recognized as the best
pound-for-pound fighter in the world...after a brilliant amateur campaign he has been invincible since turning pro- no losses against
32 wins and no draws...he is the UNDISPUTED...UNDEFEATED LIGHT HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORD...CHICAGO'S OWN KEVIN
'K-TOWN' ATWATER! ATWATER!"

[In the first and second rounds Atwater controlled the action, establishing his jab and landing some impressive power punches; in
in round three the challenger rallied and though he didn't win the round he made headway-pushing Atwater a bit harder and getting
in some of his own power shots...]

[Fight commentator Brad Buck Brennan and former champion Mike Cash]

‘Fourth-round action: Klisch coming forward; beginning to land-there’s an AUTHORITATIVE RIGHT from the former champ: Atwater
steps back…'

“KEVIN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN’-BACK HIM OFF!” screamed trainer Hank Voight.

•Back In The Ring•

‘Klisch is starting to ‘feel’ himself…connecting again with a big right…BUT HERE COMES ‘K-TOWN’! A smashing left-hand wobbles
the challenger!...another left and Klisch wants to clinch but Atwater’s HAVING NONE OF IT! Body shot from The Hungarian; ‘K-Town'
coming back with a hard right hook…with ten seconds left in the round Klitsch takes a knee-another all action round in Madison Square’!

“That’s what’s up Kev!” Voight rarely shows excitement. “Let’s go back to work-POUND THE BODY, alright!? Stitch: give ‘em a
swish of water...NOW Kev: I want you to pound the body-work the ribcage, then back 'up top'...just before the end of the round...
he should be softened up-that's when I want uppercuts and maybe some crosses...Oh, yeah: get your jab workin' for the first minute
a minute or so-got it? One more thing: this guy WORRIES ME-let's try to get him outta there if you can, yeah? "

Kevin simply nods and spits out the mouthful of water he's been given. Stich, the cornerman asks "How ya doin', Kid? He popped ya
pretty good with that right."

"Yeah...no point in lying; he rang me up."

Listen, Kid...it ain't my bidness, but..."

"Save it, Stich," Keven says and opens his mouth so that Stich can slide in his mouth guard...

...'Fifth round...a little over one minute gone...after working his jab to perfection to start the round-there it is! He lands another
rattling shot to the body...we could hear Klitch grunt all the way down here!...Klitch swings and misses with a big right, but connects
with a left to the chin, which Atwater walks right through-OH! Klitch is down ! He's back up after a three count
but can he continue? What do you think, Mike?'

'The punch that did Klitch in is was an uppercut with some serious heat on it, Brad! We know that K-Town has knock-out power in
either hand; his uppercut is his signature 'shot', so to speak-the one he goes to when he's decided 'ok, enough of this b.s.' and wants
to get 'em outta there...HOLD ON...the ring doctor is examing Klitch, Brad...

'He is indeed, Michael My Man...he's...he's waving his arm...this thing is OVER, Brad-TKO in round number 5'!

//////

+Post-Fight Interview+

Interviewer: Great overall performance, K-Town!

Atwater: Thanks, I appreciate it.

I: Excellent ring command and your counter-punching was a thing of beauty. Klitch is a rough customer-getting him
outta there in fewer than eight rounds-the first time that's been done.

A: He's definitely a guy to watch. I wouldn't be surprised if he has a belt one of these days.

I: After you're gone , obviously!

A: Goes without saying...HEY! (he's handed his baby daughter, who immediately focused on the 'mouse' below his left eye)

I: A future Champion, Kev?

A: I don't see her Mom agreeing! (Yareymys insistently tries to touch the lump under his eye).

I: What's next for you champ? You hold all of the relevant titles; you've vanquished all but a few of the division's best-what's
left?

A: REST...a long rest...then we'll see.

I: Congratulations, Champ-we'll see you next time.

A: Thanks.

In a roped-off section beneath the ring apron, Vanessa Rojas waits for her family. " Felicidades (congratulations)
she says, accepting their daughter into her arms.

Yaremys says, around her pink pacifier "Gaat jo booboo Papi", and points at Kevin's mouse.

"O, No!" she exclaims. "¿Que lastima, verdad ? (What a shame). To Kevin, she mutters "I'm sorry, Kev. I am; it will never
I swear."

"TAS-TIMA!" Yaremys yelled.

"Yeah, sure." The trio head for the locker rooms, neither speaking except to their daughter...

//////

WBC-WORLD BOXING COUNCIL
WBA-WORLD BOXING ASSOCIATION
WBO-WORLD BOXING ORGANIZATION
IBF-INTERNATIONAL BOXING FEDERATION
TKO-TECHNICAL KNOCKOUT

//

Even though Klisch had done good work in the few opportunities he'd had during their bout, and as sore as he is Kevin made
time to play with his baby before he and Vanessa put her to bed. The baby can sense the tension between her parents and due to
that, she's extra fussy; by the time they get her 'down', both adults are past ready for bed. In their bedroom, the couple maintain
the silence from their drive home: at least until Rojas, tired of the physical and mental strain the estrangement is causing her broke
the ice: "I know that I was wrong, Kev. I've admitted that. I've also promised that it will never happen again-"

"Why did it happen at all ?" he asked tersely.

"I...you've been away so much: focused on this fight, and... este tipo...con su suave cottorreo...me animo...de ninguna
manera debería haberlo dejado llegar a ese punto (This guy...I was vulnerable to his smooth patter-I let myself be...still, I
should never have let it get to the point that it did). My Love...I'm so so sorry and so embarrassed that my behaviour caused you
so much distress. I...just know that I never would have gone past the flirting stage-NEVER. I love Yary and you too much to ever, ever
jeopardize what we have. I..."

"It's fine, 'Nessa-I GET IT...you're a stunning woman and I'm not surprised that you're propositioned as much as you are. When I
travel...well-you ALREADY KNOW...so I apologize for over-reacting...and for falling down in the cuidar a mi mujer
(caring for my woman) category." He shrugs. "I accept partial blame. We'll work on that."

Vanessa's infectious smile brightens her entire lovely visage. "Thank you, Baby. I've been miserable because I made YOU so so
miserable and I never meant to do that. TE AMO ." She approaches him slowly and allows him to enfold him in his
big strong arms and just HOLD HER...all is forgiven.

Chapter Text

"Ten minutes Champ!" a voice with a distinct Central Australian lilt to it called through the closed dressing room door.

Lucas 'Riptide' Ripley, Australian light-heavyweight king trusts only ONE MAN to tape his hands before a boxing match:
Robert Sullivan , his best friend and the undefeated WORLD LHW champion. "Remember Rip-he'll press you
from the first bell; when he and I tangled ass, I put a jab in his grill and didn't stop."

"That works," said Lucas.

Pruitt Herrera enters a few moments later; he nods to Sullivan; he laces on Lucas' gloves and instructs him to shadow-box (to)
keep his muscles warm and loose. "He looks good: his hands are faster and he's moving better...your sparring sessions worked
wonders, How is his mood?"

"Upbeat. Confident. I looped him in on how I took Mueller."

"RIGHT HERE!" Lucas hissed, still throwing punches.

Pruitt's mobile device sounds, alerting them to head to the ring. Harold 'Stich' Carmichael, recognized as the best cornerman in the
business gathers his equipment, slings a robe over Ripley's shoulders and leads the quartet ringside...

🎵🎸🎸🥁🥁🎙🎹🎹🎸🎸 "LIVE, BABY, LIVE...Now that the day is over...I got a new sensation (New Sensation)
In perfect moments-Impossible to refuse:

Sleep baby sleep...🎵🎸🎸🥁🥁🎙🎹🎹🎸🎸...Now that the night is over; And the sun comes like a god
Into our room...All perfect light and promises...

'...Coming to the ring on our left: that's Lucas Ripley, who vanquished his countryman Colm Manuss four months ago at Perth Stadium
in a hard-fought 12-round non-title contest, Manuss' first and only loss of his fine career...that's New Sensation by Australian super-group
INXS announcing his arrival...' the capacity crowd is up and dancing; and there to our right is Victoria Hughes, the champ's lovely wife along
their youngster Lachlan....beside her the equally beautiful Andrea Herrera, Robert Sullivan's better half and daughter of PRUITT HERRERA,
Ripley's trainer."

'There's Sully just behind Ripley, Marc...his best friend and sometimes sparring partner...the wee fella on her lap is the spitting image
of his Da'-seems he doesn't know what to make of this hoopla! It certainly is a raucous night here in Melbourne when one of our own
has the opportunity to add to his stature as one of our country's greatest sportsmen...I reckon Sully's advice can only be invaluable
against Erich Mueller, who is no walk-over: no sir!'

'A very large contingent of Aussie fans here tonight...they have high expectations that their man will leave the ring with a victory tonight,
and with good reason: I rank Ripley as a level above Mueller, who's a very fine fighter in his own right...as we discussed earlier, I have Ripley
winning in round nine-ten at the outside due to the Melbourne native's hand speed, power, and command of the ring.'

'I have him winning by knockout or TKO as well-possibly in the eighth, Marc. Ripley brings too much firepower to the contest for
Mueller to overcome'

"Ladies and gentlemen! The beautiful Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre welcomes you to the main event-a much anticipated
light heavyweight title match between two fine combatants in what we anticipate to be an action-packed night of boxing! In the black corner-
weighing 191 pounds...he's ranked #7 with a respectable 33 wins, 7 losses, and 1 draw...from Ramstad Germany the challenger: ERICH
MUELLER! MUE-LLER!"

' And in the maroon corner...ranked #3 by the World Boxing Council and World Boxing Organization...with an enviable professional
record of 29-2-0...in the second year of his reign as the Australian champion: Melbourne's own LUCAS 'RIPTIDE' RIPLEY! RIPLEY!"...

In rounds 1-4, Ripley adds to his point totals with a steady diet of jabs and hard counter punches, keeping Mueller off-balance...
his opponent wasn't standing pat that whole time: he took his lumps and issued some of his own (he managed to back Ripley up a time
or two, winning round four before the rugged Australian took command in the fifth, forcing Mueller to take a knee after a particularly
vicious toe to toe exchange...

MUELLER CORNER: Du musst durchsetzungsfähiger sein Erich-er hat Ihre Reichweite (ASSERT yourself, Erich! he has
your range!) Get distance and you have to punch-give him a little water, please...listen to me: er ist der Champion ;
(he is the champion): he won't gift the title to you!

RIPLEY CORNER: VERY GOOD, Campion (Champion): that was good work-you are still ahead on points but he is
getting bolder...he's pressing so let's step up the jab and do not neglect the body...how is the eye, Stich? OK-you have twenty more
seconds to work on it...a little water please; don't swallow...alright-mouthpiece and let's get ready...

~SIXTH ROUND ACTION 1:50~

'Ripley pops the onrushing with Mueller with a stiff right jab-immediately following it with a blazing left uppercut...that uppercut slows
the German down some...Mueller shakes off a body shot; sends a left straight down the pipe and Ripley takes a step backward...' (Hughes,
from her front-row box screams LUCAS...WHAT THE FUCK! FIGHT BACK !!)

'Ripley recovers quickly but wary now, circling while flicking his jab snapping Mueller's head back...Jed is that a 'mouse' under the
challenger's left eye?

Colour Commentator Jed Marx says 'It appears to be, Joel-those jabs are like the stings of those big Japanese 'killer wasps'-Mueller's
face has to be seriously tenderized...'

At the two minutes, 37-second mark Ripley changes strategy slightly, pounding the German's midsection and sides with double hooks,
employing both hands...Mueller continues to come forward, though less enthusiastically than before: ...' Ten seconds left, and Lucas Ripley
bouncing hard shots off the challenger's ribcage...WHOA Mueller's knee buckled! He clenches before Riptide can inflict more damage...
I'm calling that a dead even round guys: there was a lot going on by both fighters offensively.' (Joel Connell)

Current Middleweight Number 1 contender Damien Munroe, as guest analyst adds "Both guys got some great shots in but gun to my
head?: Riptide did the most damage: the mouse beneath the eye, the body punches are definitely having an effect-he wobbled Mueller
right near the end of the round: 10-9, Ripley."

~EIGHTH ROUND ACTION 1:45~

'Precision punching from the champion, who's in a groove...a hard left stops the challenger's forward progress, however momentarily...
an answering volley from Mueller-mostly batted away by Ripley's gloves: both men toe to toe, walloping one another with power shots,
though Mueller's have significantly less steam on them than previously-a whistling right hook and Mueller's hurt...he stumbles back with
Ripley in pursuit...ANOTHER HOOK RIGHT ON THE BUTTON AND MUELLER IS DOWN! He's up but wobblin'...the ring doctor will not allow
the bout to continue: here's the announcement'

"What an exciting night of boxing-no quarter asked, none given: both men acquitted themselves admirably...at any rate the contest was
called by agreement between the black corner and the attending ring physician at 2 minutes ten seconds of round eight: the winner, by
Technical Knockout and still champion: Lucas 'Riptide' Ripley!"

*THE END