Why did I agree to this? I thought to myself for the millionth time, panting as my feet pounded on the treadmill. I was sprinting, training my body, heart, and lungs to endure the exhausting activity for as long as I was told to run. When I accepted the job at Shield, it hadn't occurred to me that I would need to work out like this. Jogging and weights maybe, but no. I'm to be a specialist, so I need to be fit enough to handle any mission. Like Natasha, the Black Widow. I remembered the skill with which she fought. Some kind of martial arts, guns, and knives.

By the time the machine wound to a stop, my lungs were burning, and my clothes visibly damp with sweat. One of the few things that didn't trigger my transformation, thankfully. My legs had begun to lose feeling, heavy as lead. My trainer, Bjorn, a shorter, broad shouldered man grinned at me.

"Nothing like a good warm up!" He said with a deep belly laugh. If I had managed to catch my breath yet, I would have groaned. Bjorn was a beast of a man, hired through Shield to improve the general fitness of whichever employee needed it at the time. His teachings were effective, in the weeks I've spent with him, I've already seen an improvement. But it wouldn't be enough. Not yet. My first training mission was coming up, and I had every intention of proving my mettle.

"I need a drink," I managed to huff, and at Bjorn's approving nod, I retrieved my bottle from the shelf on the other side of the room. I'd already learned that chugging water before the end of the workout would leave me with an unpleasant stomach ache, so I took a few slow sips instead. While I took a moment to breathe, Bjorn was readying the weights.

The key to strength, he had told me, is not in how much you lift, but how long you can hold it. And that is why I was dreading this part of the workout.

"Are you ready, Jacqueline?" Bjorn asked, looking unnaturally energetic. It made me angry for some reason. I scowled in his direction and he laughed again, a big robust sound. Between his baritone voice and hair covering almost every patch of skin not hidden by clothing, he bore a startling resemblance to a brown bear. Still, even when faced with his chipper up-beat attitude I couldn't stay mad at the guy.

"Ugh," I groaned, dramatically drooping my shoulders, "Fine. Let's get it over with." I crossed the room on unsteady legs, still regaining proper sensation from the marathon on the treadmill. Weights just so happened to be my least favorite workout, I'm decent at cardio from all the swimming I do but my hands still burned when too much pressure was applied. Bjorn was a tough trainer, but he wasn't a cruel one, so we did simpler endurance exercises. Ones that didn't put as much pressure on my damaged nerves.

I picked up the 10 pound weights while Bjorn picked up some 35's. We stood facing each other, and moved like mirrors. When he curled with his left arm, I curled with my right. We continued in repetition, before my beloved holds. We extended our arms out to the sides, holding them level with our shoulders and kept them there.

Almost a minute in, my shoulders began to weep with pain, and my arms trembled. Even the mighty Bjorn looked like he was shaking a little too, but my pride wouldn't let me give in while he was still standing. By the two minute mark, I could safely say that my shoulder sockets felt like they had sharpened stakes driven into them. My arms sagged, pain and exhaustion overwhelming my stubbornness.

I dropped to the floor, my damp skin sticking to the rubber mat. Freed of the burden, my arms continued to hurt like a mother. Hah, even my internal monologue is censoring itself. I heard Bjorn's weight bounce on the floor and he sat down with a huff.

"Not bad," He said, "It's better than last time." I lifted my hand up from the elbow and flipped him off before sagging deeper into the rubber. He chuckled to himself. "Really Jacqueline, you're making huge strides." I couldn't help but smile.

"Not bad for a girl, huh?" I asked breathlessly, "Or for someone with these hands?"

"Both," He said, his tone sounded like he was teasing, "You already look different than you did in your before picture." Oh yeah, I forgot I had taken a before photo. I made a mental note to give it a look when I got home, to the tower. Lucky for me, I was training through the New York branch of Shield. It was easy to commute, and I didn't have to worry about moving. Pendragon had also been transferred, so our pod could stay together.

We'd decided to call ourselves a pod, since we're still mammals like dolphins and whales. It only made sense to use the word for ourselves. The Mako Island group liked the idea too, so they started using it too. I often wondered whether or not there were other Moon Pools, how many other mermaids and mermen there are in the world. Pendragon kept his eyes open, looking for any signs that there could be others.

I helped wipe down the equipment, finished for the day. Already, my body felt sore, hurting like a bruise that'd been prodded again and again. Somehow fresh and dull at the same time. I retired to the locker room, which was pretty nice all things considered. I glanced around, making sure there weren't others taking advantage of the building's amenities before stepping fully clothed into the farthest shower.

I turned the water on warm, shivering as the cold water flushed from the pipes. I sat down on the plastic bench that was built into the stall, letting the transformation wash over me. For fear of being discovered by people who weren't too low to be privy to my classified identity, I washed quickly, managing to be out and dry in only 10 minutes.

Feeling refreshed and less stiff, I made my way to the cafeteria to find Pendragon waiting for me. I smiled when his eyes met mine and wove through the few tables to sit with him. He'd already had food on the table, eating a box of sushi. He pushed a second box in my direction and I dug in excitedly.

"How was the workout?" He asked the moment his mouth stopped being full. I sagged, giving him my non-verbal answer. Pen smiled, nodding. It was rough, but my work day was far from over, same as his. After a shared lunch, he would return to the labs to work on research that I wasn't allowed to know about and I would train some more. Not like before, but weapons and protocol.

"How's the lab?" I asked, curious about whether he'd forget that I wasn't supposed to know about whatever he was doing. The playful glint in his eye told me everything I needed to know. I would get nothing from him today. I rolled my eyes, "Can't fault a girl for trying."

"You're lucky I love you." We'd been dating for what felt like ages, but I still felt my heart flutter when he said that. I reached out with the hand that wasn't holding a fish-laden fork and overlapped his fingers with my own. He took my hand and squeezed just lightly enough that it didn't hurt or feel uncomfortable.

"I love you too," I said, spoiling his joke with my disgusting couple-y affection. Like silly lovestruck people, we held eye contact for an extended period of time, smiling like idiots. The moment was spoiled by a bout of paresthesia in my fingers, which I shook a couple times in annoyance. Pendragon returned to his sushi, while I set down my fork to rub at my scarred skin in an attempt to quell the itchy pins and needles. I glanced around the room on impulse, wondering how much attention we may have acquired. The only looks I saw were people doing the same thing as me.

My anxious habit satisfied for the moment, I dug back into my lunch. Despite the numbers looking upside down, Pen's watch told me that I still had a little time. As long as I didn't drag my feet, I wouldn't have to rush to get to my next training session. Pendragon leaned back with a stretch, plastic tray empty. His white lab coat bunched at the shoulders slightly, and I nodded towards the wrinkles with a smile on my face. He quickly adjusted the fabric and returned the smile, albeit a bit sheepishly.

"It's time," Pen announced as I shoveled the last of my meal into my mouth. He grabbed his trash and leaned forward to give me a quick kiss before power walking to the elevator. My heart warmed as I chewed slowly, amused that he decided against waiting until my mouth wasn't full anymore. It was endearing. Kinda.

I cleaned up the table, making sure that was clear and crumb free for whomever would occupy it next, and began to wander stiffly in the direction of my next lesson. The scheduling reminded me of highschool. It's hard to believe that I'm already in the real world. I entered the room, which had raised levels that faced the central platform. A lecture hall, but a small one.

There was another man in the half moon shaped room, sitting in the farthest corner. I found a spot towards the front of the arrangement, close to the door. I felt better sitting somewhere that I could easily get out the door of in case of an emergency like a splash of water. There was even a bathroom across the hall that I could hide in and camouflage myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my classmate staring.

We'd never spoken during training sessions. He was always the first one in the room, and only very rarely spoke. For whatever reason, I couldn't remember his name. Time to pass the time until the rest of the group shows up and the lesson starts. I dug into my bag and winced as my hand rubbed against the stiff fabric. When I felt plastic, I carefully pulled the lotion bottle out. Still moving slowly, I began to apply the cream to the scars not hidden by my long sleeved blouse.

I tensed when I heard footsteps behind me. "What happened?" My usually silent comrade asked. Massaging a knuckle, I took a deep breath.

"The incident," I replied, filtering my emotions out of my voice. The guy nodded, sitting down in the chair next to me. Keeping my face blank, I let the conversation fall to silence as I moved to my wrist.

"Looks like it hurt," He commented, attempting to start conversation, "How did it happened?" My hands stilled, possible answers dancing in my skull. I seized one at random.

"I don't want to talk about it." Again there was silence. I poured more lotion into my palm and began to rub my other hand.

"I'm sorry," He leaned back, "You know, I never caught your name." I couldn't help but smile, blowing air through my nose in amusement.

"Thompson," I said, "And I never caught yours."

"Wise. Pleasure to meet you officially."

"Likewise." He ran his hand over his smoothly shaved scalp, dark eyes watching the door.

"How did you get selected?" Wise asked. He's said more in the past 5 minutes than in the month and a half we'd been in training.

"I have a specific skill set," I answered vaguely, offering him some lotion.

"Thanks," He held out his hand, "I was started to get ashy. I got lucky, I was recruited from Marines training. Whatever you did to get their attention must have been something. Incident related?" I couldn't help a cheeky smile as he rubbed his elbows.

"No, I had their attention prior. I just have friends in high places." Wise's eyebrow raised curiously. "They didn't want to recruit me until I was 18. Child labor laws, you know."

"Must be a very impressive skill set you have."

"I've been told it is." Our conversation died as two more trainees walked through the door, followed closely by our instructor. Oh well, time to get back to work.