Here is my disclaimer for this entire story: Ally owns all the characters, (except for like 3), and I own this plot! Hope you enjoy!

It happened in Vegas

CPOV

I walked into the office and plopped down in my chair with a sigh. The job of a secretary at a law firm was not really all that fulfilling for a nineteen year old CIA agent with level seven clearance. Yes, I, Cameron Anne Morgan am a spy. I graduated from Gallagher Academy a year ago and currently have a super-lame secretary (desk) job while waiting for a mission. It, unfortunately does not involve: punching people in the face, kicking people's asses, knocking people out, or any form of covert operations whatsoever. Well, except for the surprise party we threw Jenn last month. Even though I am one of the Gallagher's best. What can I say? It is the perfect cover.

As I set my latte down, my desk phone beeped with a message. I wasn't late to work, and we barely start getting calls usually until 11:00. I listened to the message.

"Hey Gallagher girl, we need to talk. Call me back."

I froze. How abrupt. Still this intrigued me; someone knew where I had gone to school. Probably all he knew was that Gallagher Academy was a preppy private school, not that it was really a school for spies.

I traced the call, only to find that it had been made from a cell phone from someone at the interior designer's studio not far down the street from my office. This made the potential threat a whole lot closer. Maybe it was a stalker? If he looks as good as he sounds... I don't think I would mind...

Scoffing at these ridiculous thoughts, I could almost hear Mr. Solomon's voice chiding me in the back of my head as I called him back, wondering what his name was.

"Hello?"

"Hi this is Cameron Morgan, secretary at Highmore Gray Law Firm, how may I help you?"

"Well, this is your client from the CIA, you know me- tall dark and handsome? Ring a bell?" His voice dripped with sarcasm and I could practically hear him smirking, whoever he was. What a player.

"I'm sorry, sir, I have no such client on record. You must have the wrong number. Have a nice day. Buh-bye."

I hung up. I knew this was nothing to be nervous about- I would face much worse out in the field- but nevertheless, my palms were sweaty. My heart was beating faster- too fast- and I suspiciously glanced out the window, almost expecting to see him outside, waving at me, phone in hand. Blinking away such foolish thoughts, I tried my best to focus on sorting through the files on my desk for the new case, and I passed the day with boring desk work.

The setting sunlight filtered through the large glass window behind me, reflecting obnoxiously off a picture on my desk. In a daze, I sat bent over my paperwork, though my mind was swimming with thoughts and possibilities. Was I going on a mission soon? And who was that guy with the sexy, sexy voice?

"Ms. Morgan?" The stern voice of my boss sounded behind me.

"Y-yes?" I snapped out of my daze almost immediately.

"Why are you still here?" My boss sounded confused.

"Oh." Puzzled I glanced at my watch. 6:28. "Whoa. Guess I lost track of time. But, I have the files ready for you." I said with a grin.

Larry looked relieved. "Thank you Ms. Morgan." His attention immediately turned to the papers in his hand. "Would you fetch me a coffee on your way out?" He added, trailing off.

I didn't bother to point out that if I couldn't grab a coffee on my way out and bring it back, because that wouldn't exactly be on my way out, you know, but I knew that all this 'becoming a partner stuff' was really getting to him. Why anyone would want to go through it, I didn't really know. Maybe it was like spies trying to get a higher level of clearance, but more boring.

"No problem." With a sigh, I grabbed my purse and phone and headed out wearily. Pressing the cold button on the elevator, I felt a sudden shiver creep up my spine, as if someone was watching me, but the hallway was deserted. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Being a spy, I needed to rely on my sixth sense, but being paranoid wouldn't get me anywhere.

The elevator never opened. With a sigh of frustration, I turned towards the stairs. Well, that's what I get. I'd been avoiding my personal trainer at Lifetime Fitness for a couple weeks now. Walking down the street, and taking a cab to Starbucks, I felt like I was being watched the whole way. I used every counter-surveillance trick in the book.

Finally, I arrived back at the office, my gray pencil skirt and white Vivienne Westwood blouse slightly rumpled. Why, oh why, had I decided to wear these stupid black peep-toes today? I rolled my eyes. Yeah, yeah. "Because looking your best is an everyday job, not a summer job." Macey's voice said in my head. My hair had this windblown look about it , and I'm not entirely sure it was the sexy windblown kind you see on teen magazine covers. Hopefully it just didn't look like I had sex hair or something.

My toes ached and I hobbled, hopefully none too noticeably, into the dimly lit office room. Only the small desk lamp was on, and the city outside was showered with orange light. People walking and taxis covered the sidewalks and streets below, as the rush-hour traffic was beginning to grow.

"Here's your coffee, Larry," I said, pitying the poor man hunched, poring over piles and piles of paperwork. I couldn't help but wonder when was the last time he had seen his family, actually gone home or even slept.

He glanced up. "Thanks." he said wearily.

I pulled out another bag from behind me, smiling. "And I got you a panini and some blueberry scones." The mouthwatering aroma of the freshly baked delicacies filled the room.

Just for a minute, the stress lines fell away from Larry's face and he looked about a million years younger. "You. Are. A. Lifesaver. What would I do without you!"

I smiled. "So I'm told. Well, I'm heading home now, so... see you tomorrow?"

Nodding, he went back to work, taking a giant bite out of the sandwich. "Bye, and thanks Cameron."

"No problem. Good night." Even if I wasn't out saving lives, it still felt good to make someone's day.

I shivered as the cold night air hit my skin it was only 6:50, but the sun had set and the streetlights created little splashes of light on the sidewalk, that I could see from up high in the glass elevator.

Taking a taxi, I went back to my apartment. Luckily it was one of the nicer ones. I took the elevator up to my apartment and walked down the dim hallway, fishing around in my purse for my keys. Instead, I found a note.

Nice spying back there, but you'll have to do better. Really, what if I was the enemy. Watch your back.

Zach

Don't freak out. Don't freak out. You are a trained spy. You can kick his ass... Probably.

Hmmm. Zach. So that was his name. Assuming that the note and the phone call were form the same person. Numbly, I opened the door, and collapsed on the couch. After my minor heart-attack from seeing the note, I made sure the door was closed tightly and locked. I closed the blinds. I checked for bugs. And then, and only then, did I decide it was safe to change my clothes. Pulling off the uncomfortable shoes and work clothes, I changed into a much more comfortable pair of white jean mini-shorts and a sky blue and white striped tank top.

Sinking down on the couch, I pulled out the note and read it again. Plus it smelled really good. Like a combination of fresh, and minty, and manly. And really really sexy. I tried to conjure up an image of someone who smelled (and sounded) like that. Nope, he was definitely not single...

What was wrong with me today? I was totally out of it! First, I allow myself to be stalked. Then, I keep zoning out at work. And now, I am all alone (and miserably single) sitting on my couch, smelling a creeper note from my stalker and wondering if he's single! Need I say, how pathetic?

Then the doorbell rang, yanking me out of my reverie.

"Coming!" I called as I opened the door, not even bothering to look through the peep-hole. I'd just gotten so used to Macey, Bex or Liz coming over- they were the only ones who usually did- that it was instinct for me to just pull the door open, even if there could be like an axe murderer on the other side. Probably not a good thing for a spy to do... But then again, even it there were an axe murderer, I could probably kick his ass anyway.

But this time, my visitor was certainly not Macey, Bex or Liz. No, it was a guy (who, hopefully was not an axe murderer). A very uh, shall we say, hot guy. Standing there, in my doorway with a huge smile plastered on his face. Did I mention he was wearing a suit and holding a large bouquet of roses? I could not help but notice his perfect tan and obvious toned muscles. Then I got lost in those sparkling emerald eyes.

AN: This is my first FanFic. I promise you will really like it if you keep reading! It is really different from another story by kiwi with a similar title. So far I have gotten nothing but positive comments! Please give it a chance!

R&R

love

million$smile

P.S. This is the rewrite. Is it better? Worse? the same?