What I've Done

A Gallagher Girl Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own the Gallagher Girl Series. Ally Carter is a boss. Please respect her. This is the first story I've ever written. It's been in my head for a really really long time, and so I finally considered what the hell. Lets go!

Chapter 1

Homecoming

"State your name for the record."

Again?

"Cammie."

"You're full name."

"Cameron Ann Morgan," I said with a huff. Maybe Goode, if I ever get out of this room.

"How old are you?"

"22." Duh.

"You are the daughter of Matthew and Rachel Morgan, niece of Abigail Solomon and god-daughter of Joseph Solomon?"

"Yes." Please stop talking and let me leave. This is really getting old, really fast.

"You attended Gallagher Academy."

"Yes." For fucks sake can we get this over with?

"You didn't finish Gallagher Academy, correct?"

"Correct." Oh my god I'm loosing it. Monotony gets so boring so quickly.

"Why?"

"I ran away."

"Why?"

Oh I don't know. Maybe because my at the time boyfriend's mother was trying to kill me, but was having more luck trying to hurt my friends. Maybe because my favorite teacher was in a coma at the time because of me. Maybe because my mom deserved to know what happened to her husband. Maybe because my school deserved to become a safe haven again. Maybe because someone knew, and I intended to figure out who.

"I needed answers."

"Was it worth it?"

"Oh I don't know. My father's standing outside this door pacing, so you tell me if it was worth it." I was so tired of this shit. They had me in this room for the past 5 days, and we always started off with the same old shit. Name. Age. Parents. School. Bla bla bla. I'm telling you right now, this man is really starting to piss me off. I've been in the room for roughly 34 seconds, and he's already really pissed me off.

"Yes or no please Ms. Morgan."

"Yes. Yes it was worth it," I practically growled at the interrogator. Interrogator. That used to be me. Who knew I would have interrogator on my job resume.

He nodded, and looked quickly at his notes. I'm not sure exactly why, he's heard the same answers five times now. If I was him, I would of memorized it immediately after "I" said it. Amateurs. What's the CIA doing now, hiring high school dropouts? This place has really gone downhill since last time I was here.

I guess that's what happens though. When the daughter of two legendary spies disappears for five years, people have to move on. Companies need to improve. Spots need to be filled...and I think mine was filled with an idiot that can't remember responses that have been repeated five times.

The room -though I should call it a cell- I was in was nothing to get too excited about. Three chairs, a long table, one of those see through glass windows (if I remember correctly Liz came up with that when she was 5), a lie detector machine, man working said lie detector machine, the high school dropout, and moi. Paint was grey, obviously. Didn't even have to do anything, but I knew the table was bolted into the ground. Apparently this room has played host to people with tempers.

"We have spent the past five days talking about your early life, your time at Gallagher. Now its time to move on. Tell me about what happened when you left."

There it is. The thing everyone wanted to know. How I could take down a major terrorist ring by myself, when teams of trained agents ended up with bullets in their brains. How I remained in an undercover position so deep that not even my parents recognized who I was. How I eventually outsmarted everyone involved, which eventually led me to being shot twice. Apparently the Circle of Cavan doesn't like it when their leaders are blown up by a 20 year old girl. What can I say?

I smiled to myself. Here's where the fun part begins.

"Well...because you asked so nicely."

So here we go.