"This is getting boring," Zavier said. They'd been killing squirrels all morning. It took more of them to gain experience now that they were at level three, and the special attacks the squirrels used were getting easy to predict and counter. They'd even stopped wearing the welding jackets, finding them to be more of a restriction than a help. "Maybe we should work on team tactics. We've been fighting these things solo because they're easy, but what happens if we have to fight something strong enough that we need to work together?"
"I like that plan," Tess said, scanning left and right to make sure nothing came up on them. "Do you have any ideas?"
"I don't really know fighting tactics at all, much less team ones. Maybe we just start back-to-back and see how it goes? Call out our actions?"
Tess shrugged, swung her machete in a quick loop with her wrist, then walked over to stand at his back. Zavier put his machete and Toxic Weaver Dagger away and switched to a hammer and a brass knuckle that he had welded screwdriver shanks onto. When they'd first stepped outside he'd put it on with a flourish, proud grin on his face.
"Hey Babe, who am I?"
Tess rolled her eyes and refused to answer.
"Babe! Babe! Who am I?" he laughed. He had a lot of hobbies, but his favorite one was annoying her.
"If you say Wolveri-"
"WOLVERINE!" he shouted gleefully.
She gave a quick chuckle then clamped her lips shut. "I hate you for making me laugh at that," she said.
Now he had it on one hand with the maul in the other. Tess had swapped out the Toxic Weaver Dagger with another machete so she could practice dual-wielding two longer weapons.
They worked like that the rest of the afternoon as squirrels emerged in pairs. They took turns being in the front with the person in the back supporting, staying back-to-back, and splitting up to harry an enemy from both sides. It had gone smoothly enough for Zavier to start making jokes about the different positions, calling them out as clear sexual double entendres. By the time evening had come they both felt over halfway to level four and had become very comfortable with their joint styles.
Tess and Zavier discussed the day and the training. "I really feel like it's still too easy. I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want us getting hurt - but did you honestly feel like you were in any danger at all today?"
Tess shook her head. "No, not really. I'm more comfortable with a measured approach, though. If we push too far, too fast we'll end up like those people in your spreadsheet." Zavier knew she was referring to the ones who had died early because they'd taken on bigger challenges than they should have.
"I don't want that either, Tess," Zavier said, "but think of it like the supply and demand curve. If something is too hard and we start taking on injuries beyond our ability to recover before the next fight, we're pushing too hard. That's dangerous. But what's just as dangerous in the long term is taking on too little. If we can easily defeat whatever we're against without much risk of injury, then we're not pushing hard enough."
"Are you saying we should be taking on injuries?"
"No, Honey, just that if they're never happening then we're still too far left of the curve. We're still punching below our weight class. As a parent I never want any of us to be injured, but as a data and systems guy I can't help but think that if we're never getting hurt then we're not taking big enough risks."
Tess mulled that over and didn't have an argument against it, but also wasn't ready to just agree to start putting everyone in more danger. Everything seemed easy until it wasn't, and her motherly instincts would never allow her to agree to the kids taking a measured amount of injury, no matter what it did to their long term potential.
"I still don't want the kids out there yet," she said with finality.
"That's fine, but I need to go out there. Alone. Tonight." Tess looked at him in shock but saw the determination in his eyes. Most of the time she could talk him down from his wild impulses and over exuberance, but not when it really mattered to him. She could tell there was no talking him down this time.
"Why?" her voice cracked a little as she asked.
"Because we're not going to be pushing the kids to their limits later, I know this. The dad in me hates the idea of putting them at risk as much as the mom in you hates it. So, if we can't push them to their limits we need to push ourselves, and that's not going to happen playing it safe with some furry Pikachus." His joke was automatic but his tone was still serious.
"So I'm going to start pushing myself to my limits as often as I can, and if I start going too far I'll trust you to pull me back. But I need to risk it - and you will too. The more we risk, the less the kids will have to."
Her face was a mask of worry and the expression in her eyes touched his heart, but Zavier could see she understood. She was the strongest person he knew and he'd literally trusted her with his life, so when her eyes looked that scared it was a punch to his gut. He cupped her face in his hands and looked down into her big eyes. "I got this, Honey. I know you're scared and, when it's your turn to go out there, I'm going to be scared fucking shitless, but we are going to do what we have to do. We'll both be on standby with the guns just in case things go wrong and we have a whole garage full of medical supplies. Besides, I have a plan," he said with a grin.