Gabriel Merlo had been on the wrong end of a shotgun more times than he would like, but the empty barbell hanging over him was somehow more intimidating in that moment. He had followed the instructions on the fitness website to the letter — but it was that final step, the lifting of the barbell, that made him quiver. Thoughts of sprained arms and torn ligaments raced through his mind.

Gabe took another look around the room. The sight of so many taut, toned individuals pushing both themselves and the gym machines to their limits made Site-64's Director of Finances positively bubble with bodily envy. He wanted to slink out of the room and bury his grief in some chicken korma. But he slid back under the bench. Even more so than korma, Gabe wanted to look at these people as equals.

He also wanted to be able to lift Sasha up when they had sex.

Gabe gritted his teeth and reached up, wrapping his hands around the rough patches on the bar. Slowly, he lifted it off the bar and lowered it onto his chest. Then he pushed. Equally slowly, the bar rose back into the air until Gabe's elbows were locked. He took a breath, then lowered the bar back onto the safety catch.

"Hey Gabe. Your form's off."

Gabe looked over to the source of the voice: Agent Clarissa Shaw, leader of Mobile Task Force Gamma-13. She was wearing a plain black tank-top and sweat pants, with earphones in hand and smartphone clipped to her waist. It made Gabe, in his fleece shorts and The Breakfast Club T-shirt, feel unprepared.

"I'm doing well, Clarissa. How are you?" he said.

Shaw exhaled. "Haha. I don't wanna interrupt you too much. But if your form's bad you'll get nowhere fast. Want some advice?"

Gabe smiled apologetically. "I'd appreciate it. I'm new to the whole 'gym' thing."

"Hey, you're here." Shaw moved over to Gabe's bench and stood over him. "That's something to be proud of."

She grabbed his hands and adjusted them onto the barbell. "Keep your wrists level — no, parallel, parallel to your hands. Don't flare your elbows, that's what you were doing wrong. It'll hurt your shoulders."

She stepped back. "There we go. Feet planted on the ground, wrists parallel, elbows tucked in… Nice. Now lift!"

Gabe slowly lifted the barbell overhead. Now that he was actually lifting properly, he could feel the strain. He was afraid his arms might snap off at the elbows, but they held.

"Now hold for one second," Shaw said. "Lower it slowly 'till it's barely touching your chest. Then lift immediately. Don't keep it down."

Gabe concentrated on Sasha. With a herculean effort, he lowered the barbell down and then raised it back up.

"Nice!" Shaw said. "One more time… again… last one!"

Gabe repeated the motion three times. Each time he was sure that his arms would detach from their sockets. As the weight came to rest upon the safety bars, Gabe gave a final loud gasp and his arms flopped bonelessly towards the ground.

"Thank… you," he wheezed.

"Take three minutes break," Shaw said. "That bar weighs forty-five pounds. Good job!"

"You think so?"

"When was the last time you lifted forty-five pounds?"

"Point taken," Gabe said. "Have you got a workout for today?"

"Oh, I was actually about to head out," Shaw said. "Today's my cardio day, I ran about 3K on the treadmill."

"Nice," Gabe said. "Do you lift weights?"

"Oh yeah," Shaw said. "I have a whole routine. 6-day workout, alternates between cardio and weights. Send you a link? I got into it way back when, after Anderson wrecked my spine."

Gabe tried to hide the flinch, but there was a reason he was an accountant and not a spy.

Shaw chuckled lightly. "Hey, it's my spine that got broke, right? I can laugh about it now."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Gabe said. "You've bounced back really well."

Shaw scratched her back. "It doesn't hurt the prick gave me a new one."

"How's it been treating you?" Gabe asked.

"Bit of a pain to be honest. I gotta keep an ACE bandage around the thing, make sure it doesn't peel off. That actually happened to me a couple times when I first got it installed — fucking irritating when you sweat so much your legs drop out from under you."

She shrugged and checked her watch. "Still, I'll take it over the wheelchair any day. Alright, break's up. Back on that bar. Five reps, let's go. Keep those elbows tucked."

Forty seconds later, Gabe thought he might die. "Oh, it hurts," he groaned as he let his arms flop. "Feels like my arms are gonna fall off."

Shaw giggled. "Take three minutes, then you still got three more sets to go."

Gabe sat up and bonked his head on the bar. "What?! Auw!"

He rubbed his forehead.

"Yeah," Shaw said. "Five sets of five reps each. Then we'll move onto squats, then get you started with the barbell row. Then we'll get you started with pushups, crunches, rowing."

"Oh God," Gabe said. "There's more?!"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, bud, but you can't just do one press and get anywhere," Shaw said. "Did you even have a plan for your workout?"

Gabe hemmed for a moment, then smacked his lips exaggeratedly.

"That's what I thought," Shaw said. "Hey, having a plan is half the battle. Congrats, you've got a workout coach now."

"Are you sure?" Gabe said. "I don't wanna take up your time or anything. I'm sure you've got other stuff to do."

"On a Sunday?" Shaw said. "I was just gonna go home and rewatch The Office for the twelve dozenth time. Plus I owe Sasha like, a dozen and a half different favors. I figure getting you into shape has gotta be worth at least three of them."

"But then I'll owe Sasha for making you owe her," Gabe said. "No matter what, she still has three favors left!"

"Ye gods!" Shaw said. "She's been playing us like fiddles!"

They laughed.

"You are one lucky sonovabitch to have landed her," Shaw said.

"Don't I know it," Gabe said. "I gotta pinch myself every morning when I see her, make sure I'm not dreaming."

"Ha! Back under that bar, lover boy."

Forty seconds later, Gabe let out an exaggerated grunt and flexed his biceps. "You know, I think it's working," he said, hands resting on the barbell. "I can't wait for Sasha to see these guns."

"Make sure to tell her I'm coaching you," Shaw said. "I already owe her a bar tab, I can't owe her a favor tab too."

"Tell her yourself," Gabe said. "Why don't you come over for dinner tonight?"

Shaw waved her hand. "Ah, I couldn't — I don't wanna impose or anything."

"Oh, please," Gabe said. "It sounds like this workout is going to run at least an hour and a half. Plus Sasha's got the night off. When was the last time you two got together?"

"Well — I mean — well it sounds like you two ought to spend some quality time together," Shaw said.

"Date night was yesterday. We dropped Jessie off at my parents and hit the roller rink. That woman can do things on skates that Tony Hawk couldn't on a board."

Shaw's eyes lit up. "Oh, all right," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "I really can't refuse, can I?"

"You can't escape, Clarissa. I'm making my special chicken korma…"

Shaw narrowed her eyes. "I'm not gonna owe you a dinner tab, am I?"

Gabe winked. "Let's call this one a quid pro quo."