A/N-So this is my Blindspot version of the "Farmer's Daughter" premise. I'm a bit nervous about this, because it's pretty wildly AU. It takes place in the late 90s, when these two cuties were younger and not everyone had a cell phone. I'm taking a little license with ages, but given the fact that I've messed with pretty much everything else, I figure that's a small sin in comparison. Hope a few of you out there enjoy this. I'm done rambling, so here's some fic!

Chapter 1

Kurt banged his forehead against the steering wheel a few times as he grumbled a long series of curses. Part of him had known something like this would happen. He'd asked his buddy to help him replace the transmission in his beaten up twenty-year-old Civic because he had to get home to see his sister in Clearfield. He'd made it half way when a clunk warned him that something was not right with the vehicle. At first he'd resigned himself to finishing the journey going a mere thirty miles an hour, but only a few minutes later he was sitting by the side of the road, knowing that he wasn't going to make it to Clearfield and back to the military academy by the end of the weekend. It wasn't like they'd accept any excuses.

He fumbled under the passenger's seat for a crumpled map and realized it wasn't going to be much help. There had been an accident on the highway, so he'd decided to take a back road that had seemed familiar. "Hindsight," he griped aloud, regretting his choice.

There had to be a house or a gas station near here, a place to use a phone so he could get a tow and a ride to the train station. He grabbed his wallet from the console and shoved it in his back pocket before placing a fresh white tee shirt in the window to mark the car as broken down. Then he took a resigned breath and started down the road ahead.

He hadn't seen anything for several miles, so he continued north, hoping that he'd find something before nightfall. It wasn't that the trip was arduous. This little stroll was nothing like the grueling exercises he was put through at the academy, but it was frustrating, and he knew his sister would worry when he didn't show.

It took nearly two hours to finally find a dirt road on the edge of a farm. There were posted 'No Trespassing' signs on either side of the driveway, but he hoped they'd accept this intrusion, given the circumstance. Either that, or he'd get shot. He silently mused that at least if he got shot, he'd get a ride in an ambulance…or a hearse.

After walking nearly a half-mile down the dirt drive, he saw a teenager throwing hay bales from a newly mowed field onto the back of a truck. "Hey, man," Kurt hollered, offering a perfunctory wave. The teen dusted his hands against each other and then started to walk briskly toward Kurt. "Look, my car broke down abou-"

His words were brought to an abrupt halt when the younger guy tackled him to the ground. "What part of 'no trespassing' confused you?" the teen yelled in Kurt's face.

Not wanting to hurt the kid, Kurt put his hands to the side and said, "What the hell, man? My car broke down. Can I just borrow your phone for five minutes? I have thirty bucks or so on me…it's yours if I can make a call."

The younger guy leaned in closer and said, "Do you really think that—"

"Roman, what are you doing?" a chilling voice asked from nearby. "Get off him."

Kurt turned toward the speaker as Roman stood, noting that this woman somehow had control over the wild boy. She was extremely well-muscled, thin and stoic, with caramel skin. A thick, curly, and unruly pony tail hung behind her, seeming a rather disorderly feature for someone who was otherwise so orderly.

Kurt stood and brushed the dust off his pants and shirt. "I'm very sorry to disturb you, ma'am," he began, "but my car broke down. This is the first place I've seen for miles. I just need to call for a tow or—"

"Come on," she nodded down the road.

He followed, keeping one eye on Roman, who was following him at a slight distance.

"Stand down," the woman ordered without turning, and Kurt felt Roman immediately back off. "Go finish your work."

When the house came into sight, it was perfectly kept, the paint fresh, windows spotless. A golden retriever lay on the porch, perking one ear in Kurt's direction when he approached.

"Where are you from, young man?" the woman asked.

"Clearfield, ma'am."

She smiled, and he suspected it was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but it sent chills down his spine. "Army?" she asked.

"Military academy," he admitted. "My sister still lives in Clearfield, and I was trying to get up to see her this weekend. She's expecting me."

"Ah," the woman nodded with apparent approbation. "I'm Ellen, but most people know me as Shepherd."

"Kurt Weller, ma'am."

"Well, cadet, I'd hate to worry your sister. You can call."

"I would really appreciate that…" he started. The sound of metal on metal caught his attention and he looked past Shepherd to the side of the house. Kurt saw something that instantly numbed his tongue. Standing on an upended wooden crate, a young, dark-haired woman leaned over an ancient tractor, clearly displeased with whatever malfunction the machine had. She stood and stretched for a moment, making it clear that she'd probably been tinkering with it for long enough to make her back ache like that. She wore tattered, faded, and worn-thin jeans, obviously ragged from work rather than by the manufacturer. She also wore a white tee that was nearly as battered, with a large smear of oil across her breast. Her hair hung down in sweaty tendrils over the side of her face. Her fingers were blackened from her work. As she stopped to see who was visiting, she pushed her hair away from her face with the back of her wrist, wiping sweat from her forehead and leaving a new smudge on her skin. "Yea," Kurt continued. "There's some, uh…grease or—"

"What?" the older woman asked with immediate irritation.

He intentionally coughed to buy himself some time to think and then said, "Excuse me…I would appreciate the phone call. I don't want my sister to worry." He couldn't seem to stop leaning to one side to keep his eyes on the young mechanic. Every move she made was mesmerizing.

Shepherd crossed her arms, scowled, and said, "Is there a problem?"

"Absolutely not. No problem at all. I could probably help with that," he said, nodding toward the tractor.

"With my daughter?" she snapped.

"Well," he nervously chuckled, "No. No, of course not. I meant with the tractor."

"You a mechanic?"

"I dabble."

"Why would I let a dabbler with a broken down car work on my tractor?"

"Good point," he admitted.

She laughed, again more chilling than reassuring, and said, "Come on. I'll take you to the phone."

She walked up the steps, and Kurt tried to concentrate on each stair so he didn't trip and further make an ass out of himself. He tried to hand Ellen the few bills he had in his wallet, but she just said, "Consider it a favor."

He would have much rather paid the woman, because he suspected that she would require repayment of any favors, but before he could protest, he saw her daughter outside the tall kitchen window, and forgot to object. Shepherd handed him the phone and said, "You want a drink?"

"That would be wonderful, ma'am," he continued.

He noted the savory smells of something in the oven, and his stomach growled. It had been far too long since he'd last eaten. This place was so strange, all at once homey and kind of cold and institutional at the same time. The floor was spotless, nothing was out of place. There were no dirty dishes in the sink, or chairs that weren't pushed under the table where they belonged. And this family definitely seemed…interesting. He wondered if there was a father somewhere in this equation, or if Shepherd was the only parent running this joint with an iron fist.

He tried to explain the situation to Sarah as quickly as possible, but since she only had her learner's permit, she wasn't allowed to drive alone, and he didn't want his father to know he was going to visit. After Sarah hung up, he stayed on the phone for a moment as an excuse to watch the woman outside through the window. She looked frustrated by her work, but that didn't dampen her beauty in the least. He was unabashedly staring through the window at her when she suddenly paused and turned toward him.

He spun away immediately, almost running into Shepherd, who was standing behind him with a glass of iced tea. "Thank you!" he answered, the sound of his enthusiasm annoying him slightly.

"Uh-huh," she replied, studying him.

"I could at least try to help fix that. The tractor," he clarified, hoping that the excuse didn't come off as too forced. He would have offered almost anything for the chance to talk to the woman outside without Shepherd over his shoulder. "It's the least I could do for the use of your phone."

Shepherd offered a narrow smirk and shook her head, making him wonder what he'd gotten himself into. "You know what...? Be my guest." He took a few steps past her, and she snickered, "Good luck."

He walked outside and placed his glass on the railing before leaving the porch and walking around to the place where the young woman had been working.

"Need help?" he asked as he approached. She didn't even bother glancing in his direction. He paused, looking around and seeing Roman driving the pickup truck full of hay past the house, casting a somewhat menacing glare. "I'm Kurt," he added, but she didn't acknowledge his presence in the least.

He watched her fighting with something under the hood until she finally said, "Hop up here and hold this side steady, would ya?"

Balancing on the front tire so he could see, he peered into the engine and saw that most of the parts of the ancient motor had been replaced. "Did you do all of this?" he asked with interest.

She pointed at a pair of grooved pliers pinching a bolt and said, "Keep that still while I tighten this side."

"Sure," he answered.

Even though she'd barely paid him any mind, at least he could get an unobstructed look at her. Her concentration was unbreakable, and she didn't really seem to mind or notice how close the stranger was. As she reached lower, he tried not to look down the front of her shirt, but it required herculean effort. He found himself smiling as he discovered the deep green of her eyes.

When she said, "Done," it felt like he was snapped out of a trace.

The moment he removed his hands from danger, she slammed the hood down and climbed up on top of it before she jumped over to the seat. Kurt was more than a little surprised at the degree of her physical conditioning. He started to wonder if maybe she was in the service and home on leave, but the tattoos that escaped onto her hands wouldn't be allowed in most branches.

When the tractor started up, she nodded her satisfaction and hopped down with relatively little celebration.

"So you're a mechanic?" he asked, leaning against the equipment and facing her, trying to strike up a conversation.

"No," she replied, offering no additional insights.

"How'd you learn to do that?"

She shrugged, "Take one part out, put a new part in. Simple."

She almost smiled when he said, "Simple to you, maybe. That's really cool that—"

"If we're done congratulating ourselves…" Shepherd stiffly said from the porch. "Chow time."

Kurt watched as the almost-smile left the younger woman's face and she wiped her dirty hands on her tattered jeans and went into the house without protest. Kurt couldn't stand the way Shepherd had stolen the younger woman's near-smile. It wasn't like she'd been gloating or even celebrating her success. One thing was clear: this was a tough household to grow up in.

Roman came up from behind and rammed a shoulder into Kurt's arm as he passed, saying "Good luck with that, loverboy." But when Roman turned back and looked at Kurt, his smile was a bit less menacing.

"You coming or not?" Shepherd asked.

"Thank you, ma'am," Kurt responded, jogging his way up the steps. "Is there something I can do to help with dinner?"

"Run out back and kill a chicken," Roman said somberly, but Kurt realized the younger man was silently laughing.

"Dinner is already dead," Shepherd assured him, taking a large cast iron pot from the oven.

Kurt's stomach growled again, and he was grateful that he'd have the chance to eat. He looked around for the daughter, noticing that she was nowhere to be found.

"Show our guest to the washroom before dinner," Shepherd said to Roman.

Kurt was surprised when the teen didn't bother arguing, but simply bobbed his head and said, "C'mon."

The wide plank floorboards creaked under Kurt's feet, and he wondered if Shepherd was able to order them to silence when she walked over them. They continued down the hall, passing a living room until they made it to the bathroom. There was a huge claw foot tub and large basined sink, and he noticed that the rest of the house appeared to be just as orderly as the kitchen and the exterior. His place in Clearfield had never been this tidy, and it didn't appear that they'd been expecting guests.

Roman washed very thoroughly first, which Kurt found surprising for a kid of maybe sixteen. When he was finished, he waited for Kurt, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"So…that's your sister?" Kurt casually asked.

"Candy," Roman said.

"What?"

"That's her name," Roman replied. "We call her Candy. What about her?"

"Nothing," Kurt replied as he dried his hands on a big white towel that hung by the sink. She definitely didn't look like a girl named Candy. He heard footsteps on the stairs and then saw the young woman hurry past the door to the kitchen, now washed up and wearing a clean shirt. This was a tightly run ship.

Roman and Kurt went to the kitchen table. Shepherd and her daughter stood behind their seats and waited. Once Roman and Kurt were behind their own seats, Shepherd nodded and everyone slid out their chair and sat down. This place was more formal than the military academy. Shepherd opened the pot at the center of the table and revealed a large roast with carrots and potatoes soaked in gravy. Shepherd dished her own serving first, then offered the ladle to Kurt.

It was simple, but tasty, especially to someone whose meal was long overdue. The family sat in silence, shoveling food in their mouths like it was a task to be completed rather than a meal to share.

"So, Candy," Kurt said after he took a drink, "you in school?" She didn't look up from her meal, so he waved a hand in her direction and said, "Candy?"

"What the hell did you call me?" she asked, sneering and putting down her fork. For a moment, he thought she might tackle him to the ground just like her brother had.

"I…uhh…" Kurt's words stumbled for a minute before he saw the teen's face and realized that Roman had been messing with him. "Sorry. I must have misheard your brother."

She looked at Roman's snicker through attempted innocence, and then obviously kicked him under the table. Without looking back at Kurt, she replied after a slight delay, "I'm not in school."

They were all quiet again, and Kurt decided to delay any further conversation.

"How do you plan to get to Clearfield?" Shepherd finally asked when she folded her napkin and placed it on her empty plate.

"I'll call for a tow after dinner, if that's okay?" he replied. "Then I'll find a ride to the train station and head back to the academy. I probably don't have time to visit Sarah."

"Sarah?" Roman said, lifting his eyebrows. "Now it makes sense. The only good reason to make that drive is for a piece of—" he stopped when Shepherd glared, and he dropped his eyes to his dish and continued eating.

"Sarah is my sister," Kurt tersely explained, not wanting the beautiful young woman at the table to even momentarily question his availability.

Oddly enough, that was the moment when Roman's sister finally looked at him. It seemed strange that this one little detail finally piqued her interest. "Is she in trouble?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head. "I hope not. I just like to check in on her. See for myself."

The younger woman returned her focus to her meal, ladling seconds. For someone so thin, she really could eat. He realized that he still hadn't figured out her name.

"Family is important," Shepherd evenly stated.

The younger woman finished her glass of water and then said, matter-of-factly, "I'll run you to Clearfield."

Shepherd did not approve of this offer, and shook her head, "No. We have too much to do tomorrow. We have to get the supplies loaded on the trucks."

"I'll load them tonight," the young woman replied.

"Remi…" Shepherd began, "Oscar is coming tomorrow to help, and—"

"You said it yourself…family is important." Remi turned to Kurt and offered, "I'll make you a deal. You help me load the trucks tonight, and tomorrow I'll take you to Clearfield for the day. Then I'll drop you off at the train station in Altoona on the way back."

At least he finally knew her name.

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked.

Shepherd's look in Remi's direction was ice-cold, but she didn't appear too fazed by it. Remi answered, "Yea. As long as I get my work done tonight."

"That would be great," Kurt replied, hoping to hell her mother wasn't about to forbid it.

"Oscar is coming the whole way out here to help you," Shepherd added.

"I'll call and tell him he doesn't have to make the drive. If he wants to come up anyway, he can help Roman," Remi answered, looking Shepherd right in the face, and adding more respectfully, "Ma'am."

"Oscar?" Kurt asked, trying but failing to sound impartial. "Is he another brother or a cousin or something?"

The right side of Remi's mouth smirked ever so slightly in Kurt's direction, barely enough to notice. She didn't miss a thing.

Roman loudly said, "Oscar has been trying to get into—" he stopped and reached under the table to rub his shin after his sister clearly kicked him again. The thud was loud enough to hear.

"He's a family friend," Remi explained.

"Dishes, Remi," Shepherd ordered.

"Friday is Roman's night," she immediately countered, appearing as immovable as Shepherd could be.

"So it is," her mother replied with displeasure before nodding at Roman. "And don't forget the floor."

The teen clearly wasn't happy with his job for the evening, but he wasn't about to disobey.

"You ready?" Remi asked Kurt.

Kurt quickly stood, carrying his own plate over to the sink as he said, "Sure." Stopping to address Shepherd, he added, "Thank you for the meal."

Remi hurried out the door and down the steps, taking off toward a monstrous white barn. She was off like a shot, quickly covering the distance between the buildings. Kurt jogged after her and said, "Hey, wait up."

She glanced over her shoulder, but barely slowed.

When he reached the barn, he helped slide the door open and some movement caught his attention. Standing outside the back of the house, pacing back and forth, was Shepherd, making sure he knew she had her eye on him. He wondered if anything ever happened on the farm outside of her watchful gaze.