Haley quickly learned that at D.E.B.S., they liked to hit the ground running. She started her training the next morning, woken up by Max and given her new D.E.B.S. uniform.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I am not wearing this."
"It's the uniform." Max's reply was curt, authoritative.
"Well, I'm not wearing it. Too bad. I'll train in my own clothes."
Max scoffed and rolled her eyes, already half-way out the door. "Whatever. Deal with Phipps. Be downstairs in ten minutes." As she was just exiting the room, Amy was coming towards it, a questioning look on her face. Max shrugged her shoulders in response and sighed, "won't wear the uniform."
Haley's first day consisted of the team trying to see what level she was at in several fields. First thing in the morning, she trained hand-to-hand combat with Max. If Haley had have been someone who was easily spooked, the look on Max's face when Mr Phipps told her to spar with Haley would have set her on edge. Haley Graham, however, didn't scare easily and wouldn't let the look on the face of some Totally Spy get to her, no matter how bloodthirsty it was.
At first, the two girls circled the mat, both on the balls of their feet. Haley had no real training in any form of fighting, but she had grown up with only boys for friends, and rough-housing happened. As they got older and started hanging around more and more questionable groups of people, fighting in earnest became a fact of life. So she pulled all that knowledge into the forefront of her mind. Keep on your toes, you'll be quicker. Stay low. Short burst attacks have proved effective in the past. Stay the hell away as much as possible until they start to tire. Predictably, Max started straight out on the offensive, diving low and aiming to sweep Haley's feet out from under her, but Haley quickly hopped over the swiping leg, and circled to Max's back. Almost instantly, Max was on her feet, throwing jabs at Haley's midsection; some landed, but Haley was able to block a few, throwing the strong fists out to the side. Haley bounded, on her toes, backwards, to get out of range of the blows. The fight soon turned into a game of Cat and Mouse, with Max chasing Haley around the mat, throwing angry punches and kicks in her direction. When she eventually looked like she was beginning to slow down, Haley took her chance, dodging in front of Max and grabbing hold of her extended arm. Then, in one swift motion, she spun around, pulling the arm over her shoulder, and dropped down on one knee with a thump. Max, with an undignified sound, flipped over Haley's hunched shoulders and landed on her back. She lay there for a moment, eyes closed and breathing heavily through her nose.
"Are you okay?" Dominique asked, walking over to look down at her squad co-captain.
Max's eyes snapped open and searched out Haley's.
"Dude, I'm sorry, that's just the only disarming move I know and it's pretty easy to apply." Haley walked around so she was standing at Max's side. She offered her hand, a bashful smile on her face. When Max made no sign of taking the proffered hand, Haley began to withdraw it, eyes trained on the stormy look on her new trainer's face. Suddenly, however, that look changed to one of resignation and Max sighed, "Nice job, rookie," and held out her hand to allow herself to be helped up.
Haley pulled the smaller girl up and turned to walk off the mat, toward her water bottle. She met Amy's eye and the co-captain smiled in a way that seemed exceedingly proud. "Well done, Haley. That was really great, especially for your first spar." Haley looked at her, all soft eyes and genuine smiles, and started to think that this might not be so bad.
Haley learned that the next three weeks would follow a similar pattern. Hand-to-hand with Max, tailing and interview techniques with Dominique, tactical analysis with Janet, and firearm training with Amy. Haley and Amy became friends quickly.
A week and a half in Haley began to feel the kind of satisfied-tired that she felt after a day of hard work on the bars. She felt the way she did after a few week in the old gym at VGA, getting back into the swing of training her old tricks. There was a sense of achievement in it that Haley loved, a sense of pride. One night, after she was finished training, she was sitting in the armory after a long day of training, cleaning her LSAT, when Amy walked in.
"Oh, hey. I thought I was the only one left down here." Haley looked up at her new friend, who had just sat down across from her. "Just thought I'd clean my new machine gun because it was a tough day of spy training, and oh my god what has my life become? That is not a normal thing to say to someone." Despite her apparent horror, she laughed lightly. Amy smiled in response.
"If it's any consolation, you're an absolute natural. Everything we've thrown at you and there's nothing that has seemed to phase you," she lifted her head to meet the chocolate pair of eyes facing her, "yet…"
"Rude. I have a gun, you know."
"An unloaded gun, yes, I can see that."
"I can still hit you with it." Haley raised her eyebrows in an effort to show that she was serious, but Amy only let out a soft chuckle in response.
"I'm serious, though. You are doing really well. We knew you had potential, I mean, come on, you're a perfect score, but I think you've surpassed everyone's expectations. Especially Max. She's starting to warm up to you, I think."
"Huh?" Haley paused what she was doing and raised her head fully, looking Amy squarely in the face. "What'd you say?"
"Oh, stop. She does get warmer. Max is great. She's my best friend."
"Not that. You called me a perfect score. What do you mean?"
"Oh, shoot." Despite herself, Haley smiled at Amy's unwillingness to swear. "I forgot that we hadn't explicitly mentioned your perfect score. Ms Petrie mentioned the secret test that they put in the SATs? Well, you got a perfect score on that secret test. So when we said you had a lot of potential, we kinda weren't kidding."
"But I bet people get them all the time, right?" Haley raised her eyebrows, hopeful.
"Uh, no. Not quite. There's only one other person who's ever gotten a perfect score." A blush crept up the pale skin of Amy's neck and spread itself across her smooth cheeks.
"Who?" Haley watched Amy carefully now. Her teammate had dropped her head, her hair forming a curtain in front of her features. She knew she was chewing her lip. When she lifted her head again, she looked somewhat cowed.
"Can we stop talking about this? Scores don't make the agent. It's just some stupid indicator. How hard you train and how much you throw yourself into the job is what matters!"
"Amy just tell me who it is. If it doesn't matter, then it shouldn't be a big deal."
Amy's voice came out as a tiny whisper. Haley strained her ears, but still failed to hear.
"Amy?"
"It was me, okay?" The way her voice cracked at the end of the statement made Haley recoil a little. She didn't understand why a stupid test was so upsetting. She picked up her newly clean gun, stood up, and returned it to its locker. She then returned to Amy's side and laid a hand on her shoulder, making her voice as soft as she could. "Hey, I'm sorry, okay? Let's not talk about it any more. I've never been very good at living up to my hype, so I'd much rather forget I have any promise at all. Cool with you?"
Amy looked up at Haley, into her warm brown eyes, and nodded. Haley smirked back. "Let's go get a milkshake. Today sucked and I need artificial strawberry flavouring to make up for it."
On the last Wednesday of her training, Haley returned to the house more exhausted than usual. The team seemed to be running her harder this week—especially Max. Not that Haley is surprised. She has trials to pass, and the team have invested a lot of time into her training; they want to make sure that she'll pass. She walked into her room and dumped her bags beside the door, ready to drop down on the bed and let her groaning muscles rest. However, when she turned around, she is met by the image of none other than Joanne Charis perched on the edge of her unmade bed, passively examining her nails. Joanne looked up like she was surprised to find Haley walking in. "Haley!"
"Joanne. What are you doing here?"
"I just came to visit my friend. Duh."
"Uh, right. And you're in my room, why?"
"Oh, ha ha." Joanne pulled her ponytail over her shoulder, running her fingers through it.
"So, how is it here? How are your... classes?"
Haley gave her a sidelong glance. There was something insincere in here tone. Haley knew she didn't care how her supposed classes were. Haley did not know what she actually wanted to know.
"They're super. Couldn't be better. Now, want to tell me why you're actually here?" Haley, realising that Joanne would be here for a while, decided to change out of her training gear and into the sweats she wore for lounging around the house. Changing in front of Joanne wasn't a problem, they had trained at the same gym, it was a day-to-day occurrence.
"Honestly, Haley. Give me some credit! We've been back training together for over a year. I miss having you around the gym."
"Yeah, like a hole in the head." Haley shot Joanne a stern look over her shoulder before pulling off her shirt.
"Plus," Joanne continued, returning her gaze to her nails, "I had to check out what your life was like as a spy."
Haley choked on air. "Wh—What the hell are you talking about?"
"Oh, please, Haley. D.E.B.S., spy agency full of young ladies, plucking gymnasts from gyms for years and acting like nobody would notice? Gymnasts failing trials and pretending some 'non-disclosement' agreement would stop them telling girls they train with six hours a day, six days a week?"
"Joanne, really? Spies? That's a little far-fetched, even for you. And you still believe in the Tooth Fairy."
"I do—Poot showed me an article online that had some evidence that the Tooth Fairy was actually real."
"That was on The Onion, Jo'."
"Irregardless. D.E.B.S. is totally real. You can drop the act. It's obvious they picked you because your career in gymnastics was over. That and the violent tendencies." Haley looked pointedly at the small brunette, who was now standing and waving her arms animatedly. "My question is why are they waiting on picking me? I mean, I understand that I am a massive player in the gymnastics world and it would be a royal outrage to take from my adoring fans at the prime of my career, but I could be of serious, serious help to my country."
"Wait... You mean you're not a Russian sleeper agent? Dammit. I'll have to tell Phipps our intel was wrong." Joanne looked at Haley, mouth hanging open, obviously mid-word.
"Although, I should have known, if you were, you might actually be able to table in bars." Joanne replied with a scowl.
"Funny. Maybe they only take people of average intelligence. You know, in case they die. It wouldn't make sense to kill the smart ones."
"Yeah, Joanne. That's your problem. You're too smart." Haley had her back turned to the door and had just pulled on her sweatpants when Amy pushed the door open. Her entrance was interrupted by Haley continuing, "That's why they want me in spy-school, and not you."
Amy cleared her throat behind Haley, and Haley spun around just in time to catch Amy's eyes flick between Haley, standing there in her sweats and her bra, to Joanna, looking like a deer in headlights. A blush rose on Haley's cheeks and she quickly grabbed a clean shirt and pulled it over her head. "Um, Amy, this is Joanne. Joanne, this is Amy." Joanne squeaked out a "hello" and Amy forced a smile in response.
"Oh, shit. Our run. I totally forgot. I'm sorry Am'. Joanne kinda turned up unannounced and you all kicked my ass today—at the gym, I mean," Haley's eyes flitted between the two girls in the room, "so I'm beat."
Amy nodded, then stood for a second chewing her lip. Haley watched her face, she looked like she was looking for the right words. After a few seconds, she huffed out a sigh. "You told her? Haley, you aren't supposed to tell anyone." She looked more hurt than angry.
"I uh, I didn't tell her. She knew."
"She knew? You knew?" Both Haley and Amy looked at Joanne. Under scrutiny, she lost the deer in headlights look and took on one that was more defiant, hand on hip and full of the sassiness Haley had come to know.
"Duh. Like, everyone knows. You can't just pluck top gymnasts out of training—out of the race for Olympic Gold and expect the five girls under her to not ask questions. You can't send a twelve-year-old to training, fail her, send her back to her other life with girls who are like, 200% not happy that she stopped training for six weeks and still gets just as much time on vault rotation and expect her not to explain where the hell she went. You may face bad guys, honey, but you've never faced a pissed off gymnast." Joanne wore her proud look like a suit of armour. Haley tried to hide her pride.
Amy looked between them.
"Haley, can I speak to you alone for a minute? Out in the hallway?"
Haley nodded, looked quickly at Joanne and followed her team-leader out into the hallway. Outside the door, she leaned against the wall and waited for Amy to start.
"Look, we have no problem with your… girlfriend co—"
"What?" Haley half-barked, half-laughed, "No. She's just my friend. If that."
"Oh. Okay," her face softened, "we have no problem with her being here. But she cannot go around telling people about D.E.B.S. It's very important to the safety of our agents that we remain a secret. "
"Joanne is not a problem. She's just pissed you guys didn't pick her. You know, for her superior intellect. She'll be okay. I'll talk to her."
Amy gave her a gentle smile then, reached out and touched her arm. "I trust you." She turned and walked to her room.