A/N: So, for anyone who reads my other stories, you know I haven't been updating for a few weeks, and this is part of the reason why. I will be updating those stories soon, but it'll take a couple of weeks to get them written and edited. For now, here's the first part of my National Treasure story, Daddy's Girl. I will probably update it more frequently than my other stories because it will follow the events of the movies, which makes it easier to write. Since I absolutely adore Riley Poole, it will probably be 90% unabashed fluff. I'm rating it Teen just in case, but I doubt it will live up to that rating. Anyways, let me know if you like it so far, reviews are very very much appreciated.
Present time.
Riley Poole was tired.
No, tired didn't even begin to cover the intense exhaustion he currently felt as a result of yet another late night spent at his computer, trying to hunt down the imbecile who was hacking into government agencies using his IP address. Sure, he should have gone to the police by now, but he was supposed to be one of the top computer geniuses of his generation. It would be an embarrassment to admit that he couldn't track down the culprit.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, wincing at the time on the digital clock next to his bed. Two p.m.
Deciding he had better get out of bed and face another uneventful Sunday afternoon, Riley swung his legs over the side of the bed and groaned as his bare feet came into contact with the cold floor. It was the middle of autumn and his old apartment was already becoming cold. He would have to find money somehow to pay for heating oil soon.
Like I could ever afford that, he thought and snorted at the concept of him having any spare money at all. His student loans were practically killing him.
From outside of the closed-curtained window, there was a loud, clattering noise that grabbed his attention. Checking that he was fully clothed, Riley parted the curtains slightly to see what the noise was about. Probably the neighborhood children again. Or a dog. Or nothing; he could be going crazy after all. That wouldn't surprise him one bit, if he was being completely honest with himself.
To his great surprise, the noise was none of the above. Instead, what he saw was a young woman, about his age, fussing over three cardboard boxes that had opened up and spilled their contents on the sidewalk right outside of his apartment building. She swore and bent down, frantically grabbing up the random articles of clothing from the ground before standing up and continuing her journey once more.
His breath caught in his throat. Was she walking his way? Riley shut the curtains immediately and stepped away upon realizing that she was, in fact, approaching his building. He had a ground floor apartment. He couldn't risk another girl thinking he was weird.
Giving in to another look out the window, he saw that she was closer. Riley dashed to his nightstand and grabbed his glasses, dashing back to the window to get a better look at her.
The woman was most definitely his age and was a good few inches shorter than him. She was quite thin- not skinny thin- but more like athletically-toned thin. She had curled light brown hair that went an inch or so past her chest that was pulled into a pretty half-up style. Her high cheek bones and pretty alabaster skin drew his eyes to her face, while her pouty pink lips and dark brown eyes made sure his attention remained there.
She was, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he had seen in years. And the part that was the kicker was that he bet she would never notice his existence. Even though she appeared to be moving in to his apartment building, Riley would never be a glimmer in her pretty eyes or a name rolling off her tongue.
But as luck, Riley's luck, would have it, the girl's eyes rose from the sidewalk and she looked directly at Riley, who was still, unfortunately for him, peering at her, mouth agape, from behind the curtained window on the ground floor of the apartment building.
Oh my God, Riley screamed in his head, immediately letting go of the curtain and backing away from the window in embarrassment. That could not have just happened to him. He didn't even know who she was, and still he had managed to make an ass of himself already. He figured it was a new record.
A braver man would have changed out of his plaid pajama bottoms and college t-shirt to introduce himself to the girl, but Riley chose to pad into the kitchen and pour himself a bowl of comfort cereal. He tried not to think of what had happened, so he flicked on the television and flopped across the couch.
He had finished half of the bowl and only thought about how he embarrassed himself minutes prior about three times, when there was a dainty knock on his door.
Riley felt his face pale in horror and his heart begin to race. He just knew that if the girl was at the door, his throat would tighten and he wouldn't be able to speak. He was terrible at speaking to pretty girls.
"Excuse me?" a small voice called from outside his apartment. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you would be able to help me unlock my door? I can't figure out how to use these keys in the right order."
Now, he had to open the door. "Y-yeah, one minute," he called back, stuttering slightly as he practically fell off the couch when the blanket on top of him got tangled with his legs. "Coming."
With the pretty girl waiting for him in the hallway, Riley knew he had no time to change into something more presentable. Pajamas, a t-shirt, and glasses would have to be it.
Deciding it was better to get the humiliation over during the show's commercial break, Riley swung the door open hastily, a smile on his face that he desperately hoped didn't appear as unhinged as he thought it would.
The girl smiled brightly at him and thrust her hand out to shake his. "Hi, I am so sorry to disturb you," she gushed, retracting her hand after an awkwardly-limp shake on Riley's part.
Riley waved her apology off and took her keys, walking across the hall to her door to deal with the locks. Their landlord was a dubious man. "Don't worry about it."
"I'm Emma, by the way."
Riley fumbled with the keys and tried not to let on that he never got it right on the first time. "I'm Riley."
"I know," Emma grinned, watching him try to open the door with amusement. When Riley shot her an alarmed look, Emma laughed and pointed to the call box at the entrance. "I saw your name. Riley Poole."
Upon making an ass of himself once more, Riley faced the door to continue on to the second lock. "Right."
As he struggled to open the door, Emma pushed some of the boxes lining the hallway closer to her door to let some people pass. "Riley, this is a strange question, but do you think I could borrow a newspaper for a few hours?"
Riley quirked an eyebrow in her direction. "Um, sure. Why?"
There was a click and the door opened. Emma picked up a few boxes and walked inside. "Here, let me help you," Riley offered, taking a few more boxes inside of the small apartment.
Emma places her boxes on the table in the center of the room. "I need to find a job soon," she explained. "Just put them wherever, I don't know just yet."
Riley did as he was told. "What sort of job were you thinking of?"
She didn't seem to hear him as she was unpacking one of the boxes across the room, her back to him, so he repeated the question again.
"Computers," Emma grinned, moving aside to reveal a top-of-the-line programming laptop. Riley's jaw dropped open indecorously.
"Computers?" Riley stuttered. There was no way he heard her right.
Emma laughed as she walked into the hall to retrieve more boxes. When she came back in, Riley was still standing in the same place, with the same awestruck look on his face. "Yes, Riley, computers."
Riley leaned against the wall to balance himself out while thoughts raced through his mind. "You program. Computers."
She cocked her head to the side at his strange behavior. "Yes, Riley," she said slowly once more, "I program computers. And I need a job. Programming computers."
"Marry me," Riley blurted out dreamily, eyes widening comically once he realized what he said.
"Excuse me?" Emma laughed.
"Sorry, I said, 'I have a job for you,'" Riley said hastily, hoping she believed him. Emma was expectantly quiet, so he continued. "As luck would have it, I happen to work with computers and they're always looking for more people."
Emma grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "That sounds lovely, thank you, Riley."
Twelve hours ago.
"Agent Sadusky, since it is your first day, why don't you fill the team in on the suspect?" Agent Peter Sadusky grinned proudly at the young agent in front of him.
Emma Sadusky pushed her swivel chair away from the large, glass table and stood up, her hands shaking slightly from first-day at the job jitters. "The suspect's name is Riley Christopher Poole, age twenty-five, born and raised in D.C.," she said, trying to appear assertive by looking the more-experienced agents in the eyes.
"Mr. Poole graduated top of his class at MIT with a degree in Computer Science and Engineering, before going on to earn additional degrees in Atmospheric Chemistry, Environmental Engineering, and Mathematics," Emma continued, reading from the manila folder of information she compiled the night before on the suspect. "He currently works for a private security firm contracted by the Environmental Protection Agency and the Federal Emergency Management Agency, as well as does side work for both of those agencies making geological and meteorological prediction model computer programs. "
Peter Sadusky cleared his throat. "Thank you, Agent Sadusky," he said, motioning for Emma to be seated. Once she was, he addressed his team. "As mentioned briefly in the report I gave you all this morning, Mr. Poole is suspected of hacking into both the EPA and FEMA. We currently have no motive or concrete evidence, which is why I am sending in an agent to get close to him- to figure out what exactly he is doing with the hacking and how best we can neutralize the suspect without him leaking sensitive information. We don't need another whistle-blower."
Agent Michaels stood up. "Sir, I would like to personally volunteer for the mission."
Agent Sadusky raised his eyebrows and his mouth twisted into an amused smirk. "Alright, and how do you plan on gaining Mr. Poole's confidence?"
"Maybe he likes to go to the bar?" Agent Michaels suggested, shrugging his shoulders. "He is a guy, after all. We could bond over beer, sports, and hot chicks."
Agent Emma Sadusky stood up. "Sir, after profiling the suspect, I do not think Agent Michaels's plan of action will succeed."
"I share your opinion," Peter Sadusky mentioned. "Tell Agent Michaels why his plan will not work."
She hated the looks the other agents were giving her. Sure, it was her first day and her father was her boss, but Emma knew she was good at what she was trained to do. "Riley Poole has four degrees, three of which are Master's degrees, and the other one is a Doctorate. He spends his free time hacking two of the most dull governmental agencies. He has no known associates or friends. His grandmother raised him. Mr. Poole is not the type of man to go to bars, drink beer, watch or enjoy sports, or chat about 'hot chicks'."
"Exactly," Peter said. "Michaels, sit down."
Michaels narrowed his eyes at Emma, but she ignored him.
Peter surveyed the agents, listing pros and cons of each agent in his head, trying to figure out the right one for the job. After a quick survey, he realized his daughter was the only one who could get close to Poole believably.
"Agent Sadusky is the only agent on the team who is right for this mission, which is why I am choosing her," he decided finally. "She is a female one year younger than the suspect and she has a background in computer science. She is the perfect fit, therefore, if I hear one word from anyone of you about my decision being based off the fact that she is my daughter, I will personally make sure to transfer you to pushing paper at the CIA. Is that understood?"
The agents all nodded, each one secretly scared of their boss.