Just an idea that popped into my head. I also got the fifth Gallagher Girls book! :D The plot is so twisted, the last antagonist shocked me! He was responsible for brain-washing Cammie...T_T Oh well. Read ze story!

Disclaimer: Pianist707 does not own anything from Ally Carter. She owns the new book she bought from Barnes and Nobles, though. She thought it was the last book, when there were really stacks of it when she first strolled into the store.

Operation Interception

Abigail "Abby" Cameron

I'm bored. That was Abigail Cameron's first thought as she sat on her bed, looking through old memories. Long after Cam returned to the Gallagher Academy, stuff went out of the whack. It died down to its natural form (not really. But the Circle had became less encrypted.), but still, she wanted to be part of the action, something for comedic pleasure. Abigail was the type of woman who loved a good replay after a mischievous deed was done.

As the darkening dusk made her flick a lamp on, she carefully laid her album of photos in her drawer, an idea came on.

Sunday was one of the many scheduled times her older sister, Rachel would finish taking a shower and drying her hair in the faculty bathrooms (genders separated, of course.). And a certain someone would pass by the halls, if she could get him to come to her room, in the same halls where the faculty passed on their way to many places in the academy.

So, if she could get such a pair to meet up together…it would be hilarious! The encounter would be so embarrassing for the two that they would have to hunt the prankee down. She would have to be careful. The timing would have to be accurate; no one else involved (except Abby, of course.) to not cause any confusion. The planning would ensue until the operation began at exactly 8:37 p.m. (Rachel liked privacy and odd number timings.), where the victim would meet the second victim.

The final piece was laid. At the crucial moments, all of this would be recorded on tape. Moments before, she told Joe to meet her at 8:36 p.m. in her room, while he unsuspecting did no suspect what was the true meaning of the visit.

Operation Interception is a go!

8:31. Abby plastered official looking posters, HALLS CLOSED,over a hall her friend used, whereas it would lead him to the faculty halls. She set up a wall painted to replicate a wall in the aforementioned hall, complete with peepholes as small as long as she could see. It was constructed in the middle of the hall, long enough to fill the corner of the hall, where Rachel would depart from the bathrooms.

8:33. Soon, a camera with a tripod was positioned on a third peephole on the fake wall. Rubbing her hands with a giddy smile, she instinctively opened the door to where Rachel was. Her sister was drying her long dark hair, as expected. She crept in, stole something so precious, and shut it without receiving a reaction.

8:34. A watch on her wrist ticked the time. Abby crouched near the peepholes, checking if the video was on record. Yup. She clicked it off and bit her lip from laughing an insane cackle. No one would tolerate a CIA operative that protected Macey McHenry bouncing off the walls on a sugar rush.

8:37 p.m.

As soon as the camera was flicked on to RECORD, there was a slam. Rachel (dry hair, she used a hair-dryer.) briskly walked to her office-slash-room-slash-bedroom-with-hidden-stuffed-animals-from-her-childhood-room. Oh, how Abby would love to see the shock on her sister's face meeting an unsuspected guest strolling closer, at a leisure pace. Rachel wore nothing but a towel, brought her own soap, and very light slippers. Through the peephole, distress was hidden on her face. With a grin, Abby checked on the fresh, crisply-ironed clothes she'd stolen in the bathroom all placed in a black back. If she hadn't, she would be strolling in a suit.

"I was sure I brought my clothes there…" The headmistress muttered to herself but loud enough for Abby to hear, not bothering to look up. Tightening the beige towel wrapped around her chest, she continued to trek to her office as quickly as the fluffy slippers restricted her to walk in the carpet floor.

Cocking her head, the lone operative couldn't stop her Cheshire grin from spreading, splitting her face. The camera blinked twice. 00:01:50:32. One minute, fifty seconds and counting.

And then Joe Solomon came into view, wearing khaki pants and a white shirt, somehow not noticing her sister. All was about to come, according to the plan. But as Joe passed her fake wall, she hitched her breath, expecting him to whip around and fling away the light, painted wood (don't ask where Abigail Cameron got it- she's a spy.). He didn't bat an eye, so she sighed in relief, focusing on the task at hand. They had to come closer.

Closer.

C'mon, get a little closer. Rachel tightened her towel, carefully placing her slippers on the slick floor.

Yes, yes…my little dearies. Come closer to the middle of this pretty hall.

Oh my, this is going along as I wanted! This is FABULOUS!

YES! NOW, FOR THE FINALE!-

More than four feet away, Abby went into action, processing what must be done before the luck streak died. She stared at the invisible strings she'd attached the wall to a very small, though very loud-induced bell that she invented in the olden days. By old, Abby meant eighth grade.

RRIIRRRIRIIIIIINNNNGGG!

The blaring of the bell was strategically placed on Abby's right, which was Rachel's and Joe's left. The stopped, cocked their heads up, and stood facing each other for a second. In a way, Rachel's fair skin bloomed in a shade of crimson that matched the CoveOps teacher's similar expression.

This is great.

Exactly, this was done to make the two look up, to divert their attention upwards, and to face each other in this shocking situation.

Joe stood back, eyes round as saucers. Rachel dittoed the same, her expression clear as clear water: shock and embarrassment.

One point for Abby, zero for Rach.

"R-rachel?" The young man's voice echoed, cracked and quiet. After the events of being in a coma and staying absolutely still as a chunk of stone, he didn't have quiet control of his legs, so it was…wobbly. Made him look ludicrous.

"J-joe?" The headmistress was nowhere, replaced by the girl in the academy, the nervous, shy being that contrasted Abby greatly. "I didn't know you were passing by at this time…" She trailed off, clutching her towel. She took a step forward slowly, as if the floor would explode (extremely possible.). "…maybe I should go now."

He nodded and pointed at Abby's door. "Y-yeah." He still stuttered over his words. "Did you see Abby? She told me she was going to talk to me about…something." He mentally cursed himself for not asking specifically what that something was.

Heheheh.

"I don't know. I haven't seen her this evening before I went to take…a shower." Before she could continue, there was a loud thud. "What's-"

Abby kicked down the makeshift hideout of the wall, detached the tripod from the camera, and dashed away from the two stunned operatives. Despite her bloodshot eyes, a sign of sugar overdose, she mostly had complete control of her spazzing body.

There were literally white clouds being left in her wake as she burst past Rebecca Baxter and Elizabeth Sutton; they only became fearful as a blur whizzed by. They watched her slam open the doors into the Grand Hall, disrupting and scaring the spy skills out of some fellow seniors entering their dorms. "What the bloody hell?" She blinked. Liz just stared, her jaw weighed on the floor.

And then the American and British Gallagher Girls turned around to face the two highly-respected staff. One was teetering on his legs, the other wearing nothing but a towel and her face red as a tomato. Make that two people with tomato faces.

"What's going on here?" Liz asked, astonished. All Ms. Morgan could do was reply grimly, "Cammie's aunt has recorded something embarrassing on a tape and fled." She paused, deep in thought. "Her bloodshot eyes told me that she was high on sugar."

"Like crack?" Rebecca's eyes widened, looking the two pair up and down. So unexpected. A nod confirmed her beliefs. "Oh, no…we have the same problem."

Joe Solomon raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Bex?" He feared the answer early, so that he would be less fearful later.

This would allow him to be less afraid once he found out what had happen. That made being less scared practical. Supposedly, the readers reading this probably did not understand what I just said. Because what I mean by being less afraid by acting more afraid, you would- NEVER MIND! It would make you explode like when a star dies in Alpha Centauri.

"Cammie was busy at the buffet, and she coaxed the chef to add more sugar and chocolate to the dessert we were having. Now she's caught Professor Buckingham and Madame Dabney in a net, and she's trying to make them do a reenactment of one of the Hunger Games arena fights." She summarized.

There was a mini uproar in the empty hall.

"This is madness!"

"I know, right? Wait, why are you quoting from the movie, 300?"

"Liz, shush."

There was a brief silence, and Rachel turned to the three. "We need to find those two. I'll set up Code Yellow in my office (after I change my clothes.). The bright colors and lights will attract my sister and daughter. Start in the Grand Hall, Joe, where Abby went. Elizabeth and Rebecca, go back where you last saw Cammie and start searching."

Liz raised her hand. "Yes?" The headmistress was already walking up the stairs, the quickest route to her office-slash-room. "What's the Code Yellow code for, Ms. Morgan?"

"Code Yellow is used to show that lunatics have entered the Gallagher Academy." Came the mother's reply.

Hopefully you had a good laugh. A friend told me that laughing fifteen seconds in a sitting will make you live longer for two more days.

I beg for reviews. They make me very happy.