"No," Adon said, looking around, disoriented as he walked through the doors of his gym. This wasn't right. This was... Adon looked from the neon-lit undercarriage of a treadmill, over to the juice bar where someone who looked suspiciously like a DJ was setting up. "No no no no no no," he muttered under his breath. This was all wrong.  All wrong. This was the gym he'd instructed instructed Krav Maga at ever since he'd come to London. It had been an anchor and a transition as he found his footing in his new job, his new culture...

This was the place he'd taken Figaro Sellaphix 2 years prior.[1] Trained Jonas Trevelyan... This place had grit. It had started in a parking lot. It had historicity. It was not some boughie, faux-gritty place where posh urbanites came to play at crossfit. He rubbed his temple. "Why why why why why..."

"Adon!"

Adon heaved a sigh, steeling himself. He turned, miserable, towards the entrance, expecting JJ at any moment.  It wasn't him. Instead, Joe, the owner came up, smile wide. He delivered a bone-rattling clap on the shoulder, followed by a soft punch in the side. "Good to see you back!" He greeted in Hebrew. He gave a broad, proud gesture at the place. Somewhere--probably the juice stand--a low, thrumming noise of the bass began to thrum. "You like it? Made a couple of improvements!"

Adon gave a grimace of a smile. "It's great, Yosef."

If the man was aware of Adon's mounting disappointment, he didn't let on. Another rough clap on the shoulder that rattled Adon's frame. "Expect to see you here more, then! You need it--you look weak as shit!" Joe chuckled his approval, sauntering off to talk to a man by the punching bags.

With surly vigor, Adon pulled out his iphone, anything to distract him. If JJ so much as made one smart-ass comment...

Adon began to type. It was not too late. He still had a few minutes. They could reroute to the Whine Cellar.

1.	See No Evil.

JJ had been on his way to The Gymbox, which did not look like his kind of place according to google. However, he was willing to give it a chance.... For Adon. It was honestly a relief when he got a text telling him that they were going to go to The Whine Cellar instead. Either something happened or Adon had a change of heart. Either way, he wasn't going to question it. He'd rather not be in this weird, fancy part of London.

He replied with a simple, "k" and slipped into an alleyway. JJ looked around to make sure that no one was looking, and apparated outside of the gym.

The Whine Cellar was JJ's favorite gym ever-- owned by a couple of muggleborn women who tried their hardest to keep their gym accessible and a pleasant place to be. Not only was there a pool and basic gym equipment, but there were classes for people at all different levels of fitness. He had heard the zumba class was amazing, and Augustine absolutely swore by her personal trainer, Hercules.

Though if you were going to name your child after a Greek figure, it was probably best to choose one who hadn't been forced to kill his family by Hera.

When Adon showed up, he was a couple minutes late. JJ greeted him with a lazy wave. "Adoooooon!" He grinned, "For once, I'm here before you."

"Hey," Adon began defensively, clapping JJ briefly into a bro hug. "That's only because..." my gym sold out and now is a boughie circle of purgatory rife with urban hipster granola wannabes with deep pockets? "...it was closed." Dammit, he hated being late.

He looked around, trying to keep his distaste for the place at a minimum. He saw Hercules Mulligan over there in the corner, sent him a chin-nod in acknowledgement. Mulligan was a good friend. That improved things somewhat.

"Where do you want to start?" No no no, Adon. This gym taught zumba and JJ was clearly a man who needed boundaries. Guidance. He looked about quickly. "Weights? Punching bags?"

Closed? JJ wasn't sure he believed it. But he also didn't care enough to push it.

"Uh, we could start at the punching bag I guess." It was a good place to chat while working out, "Or, we can do one of the classes. Like zumba." Didn't Adon's girlfriend-or-whatever do zumba here? She seemed like the type, and he had seen her around the gym enough to know that she was a regular here.

"Definitely zumba." He grinned, "Kidding-- I'm kidding. We can warm up with the bags."

At the mention of Zumba, Adon's expression of "willing-to-consider-new-but-probably-inferior-locales-to-haunt" closed off considerably. The first time it was repeated, Adon clentched his jaw. The second? Adon raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "Prancercize on your own time," he grumbled, already walking towards the punching bags as a definitive decision. As JJ voiced his agreement, Adon smirked. "Glad to hear you speak some sense, brother."

Their dynamic was still a new one. Adon was used to being a respected, but clearly junior partner with Jonas. Adon was left to do the majority of the magical heavy lifting, and Jonas--in most cases, the judgment calls. There had been a sort of comfort in this. Though Adon would chime in if he had concerns or reservations and on more than one occasion had put his foot down, ultimately, the accountability fell on Jonas, the senior partner.

Now, that was him. It wasn't that JJ couldn't be trusted. He was inexperienced. Adon was still trying to suss out the kid's strengths (besides exuberance, fitness, a bottomless stomach and iron gut) and particular weaknesses. More activities like this, outside of work when lives and investigations were not on the line, could serve as a valuable proving ground. Better than trust building exercises that were almost undeniably hokey. Here, he got to punch JJ in the name of fitness and character analysis.

"Still think you ought to learn Krav Maga," he feebly interjected, slipping on his gloves. The point was probably belabored. The Israeli's opinion on the Israeli martial art was thoroughly known on Level 2 and with good reason: it was far superior. Sure, crossfit and whatever else JJ did were good (unless it was prancing around and calling zumba "exercise"). If there was one thing Adon understood, it was slavish adherence to a fitness way of life. (And Dreogan didn't feel Adon was religious. Pah!) But unlike Crossfit or lifting, Krav Maga had the potential to change every aspect of JJ's life.  "You think more clearly, you act more quickly, you improve your cognitive balance..." he began to list off.

"So," he said, standing to the side, a clear indication that JJ was to begin. His turf, his move. "I'm a bit out of touch. What's going on in your life?"

"I did not come here to be judged for prancerizing." JJ insisted cheerily, though he knew that hanging out with Adon came with at least a little bit of harmless judgement. It's not like Adon had ever legitmately hurt JJ's feelings... But then again the two hardly had gotten to know each other before the magical amnesia-dementor-attack-situation hit. Now, JJ felt like he was figuring out who Adon was at the same exact time Adon was figuring out who he was.

"I don't know much about Krab Mcgaw." JJ admitted, knowing as soon as he said it that he had totally pronounced it wrong. Choo choo, here comes the Judgement Express, coming his way to deliver a lecture.

To avoid that disaster he quickly segued into what was going on in his life.

"Maya and I are still being, you know. Weird. Every time we talk we end up arguing. It's getting old." JJ sighed, "And Dosia... Dosia's a bitch. I love her, but she's a bitch. She keeps eating my bacon when I make us breakfast. You don't eat a man's bacon, Adon."  What else was there? "I slept with a welcome witch, and now she keeps trying to take her lunch break with me...."

This was encouraging. JJ knew he should be ashamed at all the right points: zumba, rudimentary Hebrew pronunciation--which was a sure sign that his training of the kid was paying off. It probably also meant he should let up a little...

But one area JJ still needed development in was clearly in the ladies arena. JJ hadn't started swinging at the bag yet, but that didn't mean he wasn't throwing some pathetic, flailing punches out there. As a trainer, Adon bit back a sigh of disappointment. Squandered potential. JJ was much better than this. First, there was Maya. Adon didn't like how she'd treated his partner. But he liked how his partner had put up with that even less. Clearly there was still some basic lessons they'd need to go over. Lesson One: if she's a stone cold manipulator, run. "Jage, When are you going to--"

There was more. Who the hell was Dosia? A bitch, obviously. Who didn't appreciate his partner. And all this was before he even got to .... "Wait, wait, wait. Which Welcome Witch?" That mattered. Suspecting JJ was perhaps not the multitasking type, Adon began striking the punching bag, freeing JJ up to talk.

JJ sighed a long-suffering sigh. The sigh of a man burdened with the drama of too many drama llamas.

"Not Cynthia Bombay. The new one, Isabel Ball. Izzie. She graduated the year ahead of me. Dark hair, hazel eyes. Red cheeks." JJ shook his head. "She's nice, but..." There was something off about her. "She likes me too much. We barely know each other. We had a one night stand... And I told her, it was just a one time thing. But now she keeps being nice to me..." He shrugged, "It's suspicious. I'm not used to girls I'm not related to being nice."

He let out a groan, "AND. I forgot to mention this. She apparently has a boyfriend. And told me that he didn't have to know, which is weird." Adon wouldn't understand. "I don't want to be a homewrecker."

"Obviously not Cynthia Bombay!" Adon gaped, elbow locking mid-punch and hitting the bag painfully. He cringed as he bent the joint, rotating it slowly. Adon hadn't even considered the middle-aged witch as a possibility in need of ruling out until! Still, he could see it now: JJ caught-in-the-headlights, on the receiving end of an overly flirtatious comment... Responding outrageously in all the wrong ways, meeting measure-for-measure with an escalating compliments and propositions until...

Yeah, Adon shouldn't have ruled Cynthia Bombay out, actually. Lesson learned: keep the bars low for JJ's love life. He massaged his arm, shifting his weight on his feet lightly. He wouldn't be caught off-guard like that again.

"Look. Jage. Just because a pretty girl's a bit persistent doesn't mean she likes you too much. It might not be attention that you want, but I mean, come on," he began, gesturing at JJ. It was obvious JJ was oblivious when it came to girls and, apparently, his own self worth. Sure, he was a bit impulsive and foolhardy, but the kid was kindhearted and earnest. Obviously smart enough to make Auror--which meant he had a first-rate brain--and sure, he was built like a tank, but he had a decent physique and plenty of girls like that. And at a bare minimum, he kept a good, steady job. He was involved with his family as a diligent son and protective brother. JJ was hitting all the high notes.

Come to think of it, JJ was pretty quality. It wasn't insane to think a girl would try to bag that, even if it was packaged as a one-time thing. He was about to tell JJ he thought so when: She apparently has a boyfriend.

"HELL no," Adon said, dropping a second punch with his right hand. "Nuh-uh. No way." He regarded JJ seriously. "Have you told her no? Have you told her hell no?" If so, it was time to ghost that witch.