At some point, back in the day, Sarge was very irritated by people telling him that he could have been something if he had only gotten past the circuit of parking lot fights and those events held in small, crumbling boxing clubs like the one Bob dragged him to. Unfortunately there were rules in the so called pro league about criminal records, and with a colorful collection of assault charges, among other things, he never stood a chance. Not that he cared. Really. There aren't many things about his life he'd go back and change, and a possible career hitting other people sure wouldn't be worth it.
Much.
So he made a point of not watching any fights, and didn't discriminate either. Generally speaking he has never cared about women one way or the other, whether or not they are fighting, leading a gang of criminals or any other such thing. Humans in general don't really interest him, but whenever confronted with someone like Teagan he is having a hard time understanding why. If given the choice between cooking and fighting he is pretty sure that, for most people, cooking is a lot less hazardous and will leave them with a lot less scars. That general confusion had a lot to do with his initial reaction to her and he was probably one of the most reluctant to let her patch in. But now that he is used to it she's one of the guys, mostly anyways, and he can respect a good fighter when he sees one.
Sarge replies with a raised eyebrow. Sure, he could warm up to ensure he doesn't pull one thing or another, but the majority of his fights, no matter how refined the technique thanks to Bob, have taken place in and around bars, dark street corners, trailers, and in one very memorable instance a supermarket. Throughout his life he rarely had time to warm up so he shrugs it off as something other people do. And he has been busying himself with push ups for approximately an hour before he decided to come down here and hit something.
Rolling his shoulders a few times until he is satisfied that there is nothing blocking his movements he pulls off his shirt and lifts his hands. "Let's go. I ain't got all day." Which is of course not true. They have all the time in the world because unless there is more trouble knocking on their doors they have nothing to do, other than ensuring their survival.