Hey, so... This story had been reported by an reader who shall remain nameless (but the pen-name starts with 'Q' and ends with 'uestion42', if you were wondering), so I am reposting it. Later in life, I will rewrite this, because if I don't post this now, I'll forget, so here y'all go. Let's get to the point here: if you have any suggestions, feel free to PM me about them or review with the suggestion. I accept requests, like if you want more or less of something like, more Zammie or whatnot. I guess I should explain before you read and get confused.

This story is kind of a random somewhat AU idea: Cam and Macey were attacked by the COC during the Senator's campaign. Cam is Mr. Solomon's daughter (biologically, so no, it's not an adoption story, sorry) and her mom died during labor (tragic, I know, but I wouldn't know how to write in a mother for her). No one knows that Cam is his daughter except for faculty and family friends (and Cam - duh). They also don't know Cam's secret. Only Cam and Joey know this one. Not sure if there will be Zammie. It's possible that there might be, but just in case, I am already telling you.

I think you guys noticed that I've sort of been declared MIA by my readers (A.K.A. you guys).

But that is not without reason, so read me out before you hate me.

I have been a little busy these days, not to mention that I just came back from a two week long trip. You see, I only have a week until school starts for me, and I'm going to start 9th grade (yes, a twelve-going-to-be-13-year-old is in 9th grade, I skipped a grade, deal with it!) soon, not to mention my birthday is coming up (it's February 8th, in case you were wondering!) and I still have a life to keep up with.

I have been busy with packing (before the trip) and unpacking (still am, to be honest), I have to buy school stuff (and the stupid uniform - at least they aren't skirts and blouses *shudders*), and I am also writing some other stories I haven't published. The reasons I haven't published them are quite simple: I have a bad habit of starting writing things I don't know how to finish and I don't know how you guys will react to them. I'll write in a summary for them here, and you guys can review telling me if you want me to publish a specific one or not, okay? I will publish them as soon as I finish them, so that I won't have to discontinue it totally or put it on a hiatus or even put it up for adoption.

So give them a chance? Give me a chance? Are you guys willing to wait? Also, I am putting my two stories (Little Miss Cammie Solomon and My Take On Cammie's Ball (And The C&A Classes) In CMH?) on a temporary hiatus so I can rewrite them. I got some advice from an author that I really like, and is very good (yes, XJamesBondX, I am talking about you), and I am deciding to give it a try. No, I won't lose my classic 'lame-humor-attempt-very-bad-story-overused-plot' kind of writing, I'm just trying to write better. I am sorry about keeping you guys waiting for my stories, I just didn't like how they turned out so much, so I am going to rewrite them.

Thanks a lot for you guys' patience with me, and I would like to thank Uknowiloveu for always distracting me when I was writing the ball scene for Cammie's ball yada-yada-yada, and then making me see how bad it was and restarting.

I will try to update, but no promises...

Oh, and by the way, I have a poll for the stories, if you want me to publish them, vote on the poll (the names and summaries are in the poll - which I want to thank Hito me Bore for suggesting and teaching me how to do).

Cammie's POV

This is so awesome, today I am going to begin my Sophomore year at Gallagher, and most importantly: I will begin my Covert Operations course. But to every upside there is a downside, obviously. The downside to this one: the teacher is my father. Yes, you read me right, my father Agent Joseph Solomon from the CIA is retiring after 18 years in the field to go teach CoveOps at my school. Why? Because I am tired of worrying if I will ever see him again when he goes on missions, even though I know my dad is a legend and is so awesome and epically good he will never get caught. But it is better to be safe than to be sorry, right? As my oh-so-wise father said, oh so many times: 'Get good or get dead.'

I bet you are probably wondering about my mother right about now, aren't you? Well, my mom died giving birth to me, because something had happened during the procedure. But I have my godmother (and a family friend that is as good as my aunt too) to help me out. My actual godmother is Agent Abigail Cameron, A.K.A. Aunt Abby – not my real aunt, aunt Thalia (my dad's older sister) – and my as-good-as-aunt is Agent Rachel Morgan, A.K.A. Aunt Rachel (she is Abby's sister).

But before I confuse you with more details, let's introduce you to my life properly. Hi, my name is Cameron Ann Solomon, but call me Cammie or Cam. I am sixteen years old and I go to the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. Gallagher is a spy school, where I am going to begin my Sophomore year today. I have no sisters – by blood, anyways, because the Gallagher Girls are a sisterhood that runs deeper than blood – or brothers. I am a pavement artist, and my codename is Chameleon. Today is my birthday and the first day of school. It's September 1st, and 16 years ago, a legend was born (me). Did I mention me and one of my best friends were attacked by someone during her dad's campaign? No? Well, it's true and you would do well to remember that, it'll come in handy soon to remember.

"Happy birthday, Cam. Please tell me this is not the year you decide to follow McHenry's advice and become more 'girly'. Really, that would be a sight to see, my little chameleon being all feminine and all. And since I know you, I know that you won't want a ridiculously huge super-something-16 party. But I am not going to stop the girls and Abby and Rachel from doing something for you. Now come down for breakfast so we can head to Gallagher." Oh yeah, I should probably mention now that I am as close to being a guy as I possibly could without actually being one. I cannot stand wearing skirts and dresses and high heels and all that prissy stuff. That is why I am the only Gallagher Girl that wears pants at school. I am also the only Gallagher Girl that is permanently in detention for 'not respecting the school's dress code'. That's a load of bull if you ask me.

Anyways, back to the present and not introducing you to my life. I went downstairs, not caring about going to the kitchen in my PJs and bedhead because I simply don't care. When I walk out, I am tackled in a hug by my dad, who is saying the all-too-familiar-and-cliché "Happy Birthday" speech. Then he hands me a box, telling me to open in. When I do, I love it. "Oh my gosh, thank you so much Dad! I love it, it's so cool! Will you put it on me?" Then I laugh at how girly I sounded saying that. He chuckles and puts the necklace on me, observing how this is the only piece of jewelry I own, and even then it isn't even close to being girly. The necklace is a simple gold chain with a chameleon on it (not a pendant, like, literally, part of the necklace) and the whole thing totalizes to 18 karats. It's really amazing.

After he put it on, he smiles and says I look pretty damn good with it (although when he realizes what he said, he said I look amazing with or without it – I just laugh it off, I know I have never been the pretty one anyways). Since I am hungry, we go downstairs and eat. "So, since it is your birthday and all and I know you love my chocolate chip waffles even if they are a pain to make, I always make some on special occasions. And you can't forget the Queen of England's grape juice or else she gets bitchy all day." He says the last part smiling sarcastically and all, but everything he said is true. He always makes chocolate chip waffles when it's my birthday or Christmas or if I am in a deep funk (or as he calls it, oh so kindly, 'one of my moods'), and like it or not, I always get crabby if I don't have my grape juice with breakfast every morning. I roll my eyes, smile and nag at the whole 'Queen-of-England' thing; it's an old joke of ours.

The waffles are, as always, amazing. After I eat, I head upstairs to take a quick shower and change into the clothes I left out of my suitcases (which is nothing much, really... It's just my favorite jeans, a random shirt that is all crumpled because I simply cannot fold my clothes for some reason and my worn out black All Stars). Of course, I do absolutely nothing to my hair other than just towel dry it (but leaving it wet, because I am just plain lazy and I like the way it looks naturally) and put on no makeup whatsoever for two reasons: I hate makeup with a passion and I don't even own makeup anyways (I know, a 16 year old girl that doesn't have makeup? Oh my God, call the fashion police, this is an emergency! – note the sarcasm puddling on the floor... Oh wait, that is the water from my wet hair).

After I get ready, I get my suitcases and load them in dad's beloved yellow Porsche. Seriously, he loves it like it's the son he never had or something. I wonder if he loves his car more than he loves me. If he does that would be messed up... When I get in the passenger's seat, Dad locks the cabin (a log cabin that is four miles down Highway 10 from the school where me and Macey (yes, Macey McHenry, the senator/future VP's daughter) came after we were attacked in Boston – also where I usually spend the holidays with Dad if we aren't going on missions if he lets me tag along and stuff), loads his bags in with mine in the trunk and gets in his car. Now this will be a fun day.

"So, Dad, I have a question for you... Because, I happen to know that you will be my CoveOps teacher, and I was wondering if I have to call you Mr. Solomon of if I can call you Dad. Because if I have to call you Mr. Solomon I think every time I try to call you that I will burst out laughing, it's just plain wrong for me to call you like that." He smiles, even chuckles a bit, then he gets serious. "Wait, how in the name of all that is holy did you find out I am going to be your Covert Operations teacher? And, to answer your question, when we are in the classroom, call me Mr. Solomon, and if you start laughing, I will tickle you until you are out of breath – I'll give you a real reason to laugh. If we aren't in class, you can call me Dad." When he said the 'how in the name of all that is holy did you find out I am going to be your Covert Operations teacher' thing, I cracked up... Seriously... But when he said the tickling thing, my eyes widened in horror. It's because I am the single most ticklish human being to ever walk the face of the Earth, I swear. But I know my dad would never do that in class, he would wait until I was alone with him to torture me slowly and painfully.

"You are losing your touch, Daddy... Really, it isn't even hard to tap your phone anymore, and I know for a fact that the only reason you didn't even bother with trying to get me to train and brush up on my CoveOps like every single vacation from ever since I could walk or something is because you spent these 76 days talking to Aunt Rachel because she needed convincing on the topic and the Director so you could pull out and go to Gallagher. For a CoveOps teacher you are really doing terrible, if a 16 year old spy-in-training can outsmart you. Although the girl in question is me, the legendary Chameleon, who has been learning Joe Solomon's tricks ever since she could understand the concept of being a spy and ever since she could walk." While he laughed at the last statement I said, I smiled and waited for his response. "Cameron Ann Solomon, you are seriously too self conceited for your own good. And really, you tapped my phone? Geez, you really laid on the cheese for this one. Tapping my phone? Really? And it actually worked?" He told me that between laughs, and told himself under his breath that maybe I'm right about him losing his touch.

As usual, we were half a mile from the school and I walked out of the car and got my bags. We always did that so that people wouldn't be able to associate me with my father (because if any spy that sees the two of us together goes rogue, he could use me against him or vice-versa - so, security). This year it's because he is the new teacher and stuff, so he can't be seen until later. I just shrugged and sprinted the half mile to the school gates, and Bubblegum Guard let me in with a smile and pop of his gum. Then, as part of my routine, I got tackled but no other than Rachel Morgan, Abigail Cameron, Rebecca Baxter, Elizabeth Sutton and Macey McHenry at the same time.

"Uh, guys. Can't... Breathe... Gonna... Die... From... Suffocation... Your... Faults..." Then they laugh and let me breathe. And, very creepily, all say "Happy birthday Cammie!" at the same time, with not even a millisecond of difference between them. "Thanks, but please, never do that again. I mean, not only the hug/suffocation/whatever-you-call-it but also saying the exact same thing at the exact same time... It's just creepy, really." Then Bex has my bags and Abby has me slung over her shoulder, with a lot of protest coming from me. Like pounding my fists on her back and kicking her in the gut. Since I won't 'calm down and sit tight' she presses a pressure point on my neck and soon I am out like a light.

The next thing I know, I am tied up on a chair, being tortured by some people I thought were my friends. Or should I say Rachel and Abby are strapping 3-inch-tall high heels on my (bounded, shackled AND tied up) feet, Macey is applying makeup all over my face, Liz is doing incredibly painful things to my hair, and Bex, we can't forget her, she is (as she so kindly put it) 'declawing me' and painting my nails. I assume they don't know I am awake yet, so I decide I am going to mess with them and have a good laugh. So I yell so loud and so long that only someone with the lungs of a singer can pull off (which I do have, thank you very much! – and yes, I do indeed sing and I am quite good (A/N: hellooo, part of the big secret!), it's just that only me and my dad know about). They all jump and flinch and curse while I, super spy and evil genius, laugh my butt off. "Why are you traitors doing this to me? I mean, really? Not only do you have to put nail polish on my so called 'claws' *glare at Bex*, but you also have to do excruciatingly painful things to my hair that could totally pass for a new interrogation technique, I SWEAR *glare at Liz*, and the fun doesn't end there! Of course not! There is also the ever so dangerous prodding and poking and coloring of my skin with makeup that is only legal in Switzerland *glare at Macey* and we can't forget the clothes of course! How dare I forget them? The torturous miniskirt *glare at my three best friends/sisters/roommates* and freakishly high high heels *glare at Rachel and Abby*, to guarantee a tripping Cameron Ann! (A/N: remember that I said everyone at the school minus the teachers, headmistress, Cammie and Abby thinks her name is CAMERON ANN – A.K.A. they don't know about the "Solomon" at the end of her name – but they will find out!) And to top it all off, you did this to me on my birthday! Geez, I am feeling the love!" The way I was glaring at them could make a civilian drop dead from fear.

But it only made Bex laugh at me. "Cammie, you know that you can't even beat me in a spar, much less all of us together. Macey and Liz, sure – no offense, by the way. But not me or Abby or the headmistress. Especially not all three of us." I glared more, and in the way only an infuriated 16-year-old mini and female Joe Solomon can, said "You want to try and prove you wrong?" She gulped and handed me my jeans and All Stars. Abby and Rachel flinched when my gaze reached the two of them, and they ushered everyone out of the bathroom, following soon after. I locked the door (and added a little reinforcement of my own just in case) and begin un-Barbiefying myself. That's when I notice how I was looking at them: I looked ready to kill someone will my bare hands just to get the anger out. No wonder they were afraid.

I have thought of the perfect way to infuriate my roommates. As for Abby and Rachel, I will have to get back to that later. To annoy Bex, I scratch the nail polish off with my nails themselves (thus 'ruining' them). To make Macey twitch with anger, I wash off my makeup with regular soap (and not a facial wash, 'ruining my pores'). To frustrate Liz, I undo the (totally painful and insane) hairdo and shake/ruffle/mess up my hair to my liking (and everyone else's disliking). Okay, now that that is fixed, I toss off these high heels and use them to jam the door (so now the only ways in or out of the bathroom are: unjamming the door (yeah right), the window (my route for the moment) and the loose panel in the celling (which is a passageway that leads to the school's original air vents!). Then, before I put on my beloved and worn out and "roughed up" black All Stars, I put on my jeans, disposing of the skirt in a rather creative way (A.K.A. shredding it with the nail clippers Bex left behind and tossing the shreds all over the bathroom (in a way a professional could swear that the skirt was ripped apart in anger) and if you notice my arranging of the pieces, it forms the symbol for revenge). Finally, I climb out of the window, meaning I have to climb down the side of the mansion for five floors (and I have totally done harder, to say the least).

To simply drive them all insane and make my dad and me smile, I decide to refresh on my passageway knowledge, making sure I go through the dirtiest ones, complete with cobwebs, dust, grime, occasionally mud, and in one of them, slug's slime. I leave the one that will land me in the middle of my father's new office for last, so I can surprise him by (literally) crashing in. When I do fall from the air vent, I land like a pro (I have been doing this since I was 12 anyways - falling from Gallagher's vents, I mean) and startle my dad. "Hey Daddy..."

"Heya, Cam. Do I even want to know this time? And be honest..." I crack a grin at the 'be honest' part. I am a spy, for crying out loud! Spies tell lies, it's a CoveOps rule. But even then, I fake-ponder for about thirty seconds (actually 26.492 seconds) and tell him "Probably not. Anyways, I was wondering if you were able to get my arranged 'alternative uniform' for me already?" We both smiled at the uniform thing. As I said before, I am the only Gallagher Girl that wears pants instead of a skirt as the uniform (and constantly receive detention for that particular reason). My 'alternative uniform' is basically the blouse all the girls wear and the arranged part. That is the part I needed my dad to get for me: 5 pairs of khaki social pants and a pair of black combat boots. He hands me a somewhat big box and I thank him before leaving.

I spend the rest of the afternoon in Roseville, the little town that is two miles away from the school, just down Highway 10. I had somehow managed to hide my uniform in my room without the girls noticing me and left via passageway behind the tapestry. I was walking around, having some ice cream, when I noticed Rachel walking around town, in a disguise (strawberry blonde wig, light blue contacts, fake nose, a faint bit of freckles on her 'nose', blue and orange sundress, golden sandals or whatever they are called), searching for me, The Chameleon.

Me, the girl who once successfully tailed Joe Solomon for five hours in a very crowded shopping mall in New York without being made once at age nine just because I wanted to see what I would get for Christmas (I got a MacBook Pro and white Studio Beats by Dr. Dre, if you were wondering). The Chameleon, as in the youngest official CIA Agent in the history of espionage (I joined about 3 months ago, actually). Good luck with that, Rach. While that never happens, I will be going back to school, invisible like the pavement artist I am.

When I made it back to the mansion, everyone was flipping because they weren't able to find me and they even sent in Rachel to find me. I entered just as I left, unnoticed by all. I knew that my friends liked being early to the 'welcome back' dinner (because they always have a birthday party planned for after dinner so they need to finish soon to have enough time to be sure everything is okay and set), so there was no danger of being seen by them as I went up to my room and put on my uniform. You'd think that being the only female in the school to wear pants and combat boots on a daily basis would make me stand out from the mid-thigh skirts and ballet flats. But when you are me, everything is easier when the topic is spying or anything related to that.

When I walk in the Grand Hall and sit down, I notice the frantic searching for me. I decide to make my presence known to everyone when I talk to them. "Hey! Find who you were looking for? I can't wait until we start CoveOps. Even if it is just lame WWII stories and slideshows from Buckingham. I might as well try to enjoy it, right? What about you guys? Bex, Liz, Macey? Tina, any new possible facts?" I asked them, with a smirk. But my roommates just stare at me in awe and hug me, saying they are glad that I am here, and glad that the Headmistress found me. I just tell them the truth. "Guys, I'm me. How could I not be okay? And the Headmistress didn't find me; she is still in Roseville, looking for me, even though I didn't leave the mansion once today. If you look at the clothes I was wearing before I put on my uniform, you would see the cobwebs, dirt, grime, mud and slime on it to prove it." They were shocked to hear my lie of not hearing the mansion (which they believed) and grossed out when I mentioned the stuff on my clothes, which I smiled at.

Tina seemed about to say something, but just then, the Gallagher Faculty (minus my dad and Rachel) walked in. I also noted that Abby was nowhere to be seen, not even by me, meaning she isn't in the room. All around me, people are asking questions about Rachel and the extra chairs. Wait, chairs? As in two? Abby was going to be teaching here, then? Then Buckingham stood to the podium just as Rachel walked in, her disguise shed, apologizing for her tardiness. Then she goes up to the podium where Buckingham stood seconds ago and began the Welcome Back Speech. When she is speaking, I see she looks directly at me and there are mixed emotions in her eyes. Relief for finding me (why, I will never know, though), annoyance at my clothing and surprise that I walked back in the mansion without being caught. When I decide to tune back in, I hear two things that make me want to back track.

The first thing was pertaining to Macey and me being attacked in Boston. There would be a permanent Secret Service agent on Macey from now on until the end of the election, as well as announcing that I will be joining her during the campaign. Did I mention that the Senator and his wife thanked me for saving Macey and personally invited me to be part of their campaign? Well, they did, and for Macey's sanity and everyone else's health, I said I would. Then I heard who the agent would be. Abby. As in my godmother, Agent Abby Cameron. When she walked down the Grand Hall to take her place in the other chair, when winked at me and mouthed 'revenge' to me. Yikes.

The other thing was about CoveOps. Now this should be fun. Rachel literally said these exact words: "This year Professor Buckingham is offering a new course, History of Espionage, for the Junior and Senior classes, and we have a new Covert Operations teacher, so let's welcome Agent Joe Solomon, ladies. Do not underestimate him and give him no reason to do so with yourselves." When my dad walked in, I was almost smiling at him and barfing at what I heard and saw. My sisterhood, headmistress and godmother were all swooning. Everywhere I turned, I heard "wow, he's hot" and stuff like that. Gross, I know. What can you do when your sisterhood, godmother and as-good-as-godmother swoon for your dad (that no one knows is really your dad)?

So that's it, chicas. What did you guys think of it? Marry it? Kill it slowly then eat the meat as BBQ and use the blood as sauce? Tell me what you think! Send me ideas!

Peace out to y'all! ~Jommie Obsessed Zammie Lover

PS: Jommie isn't what you think it is. Jommie is Joe and Cam, as in a couple. I know it sounds wrong, but wouldn't it be just HILARIOUS if there was some Jommie? I ship both Jommie and Zammie (because screw logic, that's why, okay?)

Ah, and one more thing: VOTE ON MY POLL, I NEED TO KNOW!