A.N.
Okay so I know I said I was not going to continue this. I also know I should really be writing the next chapter for my story, but whatever I'm halfway done the chap anyway so…it can wait. But I was sitting in bed this morning and, I don't know just kinda was thinking about my writing. And then the idea popped into my head, and the words literally just started pouring in. So needless to say I jumped up and ran to my computer to start typing. And here we are. So I turned this into a two shot and for all of you who wanted me to continue I hope you're happy. The ending was going to be totally different, but… you know me. Things never go the way I plan for stories. But I think I did an okay job considering I was never supposed to continue in the first place. So yeah, enjoy!
He's sitting on the couch right now watching TV, adding in a comment or two every once in a while to the endless discussion his friends are having.
But he's not really watching.
He laughs when one of them makes a joke about how stupid the people on said show are, or how bad it is.
But he's not really listening.
Of course, no one realizes this.
He's spent his whole life hiding behind painted smiles; masking his emotions with a face devoid of all feeling except cool indifference. Even Cammie still has trouble sometimes deciphering his true emotions, knowing when his smile is a true one or lie.
Cammie.
Her name is like a knife to his gut. He's been trying not to think about her, but of course he's been unsuccessful. Even having his best friends over is not enough distraction to successfully deviate his thoughts in their entirety from her.
Of course, no one realizes this.
They knows he's a bit worried of course because who wouldn't be in this situation. But he's deceived them so well, and they don't really have any idea at all of how much a wreck he is right now. He doesn't even know why he's suck a wreck right now. Zachary Goode is not one to spend every day stressing about a perfectly normal mission, even if it does involve Cammie. He just wouldn't do that over something as everyday as this. And to everyone in his living room right now those two sentences are true. Except to himself. Because like it or not there is only one scenario where Zachary Goode would do those kind of things.
He loves her, and from day one has felt the pull to her, to be with her. She's wormed her way through his walls unnoticed like the pavement artist she is until BAM. She suddenly becomes the one thing he values more than life itself.
Which is why no one can know it.
He keeps it all wrapped up inside so no one has any how worried, how stressed, how scared he is about her mission. No one knows how hard it is for him to not be able to do
something, to just be there with her so he can know that she's okay and that he can save her like always when she's not.
He remembers those Gallagher days. He remembers the beginning of it all, how so suddenly he was drawn to her, felt an inexplicable urge to protect her. How when she found him she was always so furious, demanding to know why he was there and how he couldn't give her an answer because it was also unknown to himself. And that for every time she did catch him there were always a million more she didn't. Which he knows sounds really stalker-ish, but he is a spy after all. Spies, well, spy on people, and tail them around, sometimes to find out information and sometimes to protect them. And for an unfathomable reason at that time, he HAD to protect her.
And now he can't. Because she's off across the globe in Ukraine and he's here, sitting on his living room couch doing nothing, and it kills him.
At least he knows where she is. They always tell each other everything they can, and though she could tell her location he has no idea why she's there and when she's coming back because it's classified .
Classified. The word classified, he muses, can make you want to punch a wall when it's used against you, but suddenly becomes your best friend when protecting someone else.
He's used the word enough to know that that is true. For a fraction of a second, a small smile climbs onto his face when he remembers Cammie's infuriated expressions every time he used it against her, especially when he was teasing her. Even when he was serious she never liked the word. Cammie always had an insatiable need to know what was going on, and hated it when she was told that, in fact, she didn't need to know anything. She didn't understand why they did it, especially why he did it. She didn't get it that he had to do it to protect her.
Like he said he's used the more times than he can count. But only a few times has it ever been used against him. Most of the time he understood that he couldn't know. But there were times when he knew why they were doing it, and he just didn't care. Now would be one of those times. Unfortunately, wall-punching is not a feasible option for him right now. He's not about to have to fix one of his walls due to a momentary lapse of self-control. That's what the decimated punching bag downstairs is for.
We're in the real world now, he reminds himself. This is the real deal. The thing we've trained for all our lives. And if anyone is prepared for it enough, it's her.
It doesn't reassure him in the slightest.
He quickly brings his attention back to the conversation at hand.
"That is an excellent question. Why are we watching this Jonas?" he says with a smirk, answering the question he only half heard.
You have to stop thinking about her he chides himself. It won't do any good to keep worrying.
Which is exactly what he then goes back to doing.
He faintly hears Grant making some wise-crack comment and then the thump of a cushion assaulting his face (ohhh Bex…) before he drifts off into his thoughts again.
He misses her. He misses her so much, and she's only been gone for three months.
He misses her smile and her laugh that could light up any room. He misses her shrieks and giggles when he tickles every time she denies that she's ticklish. He misses the way her eyes sparkle when she's totally up to no good, and the sheepish grin she gets when she informs him that she almost burnt down the house trying to make toast. He misses their midnight talks that last for hours, and their spy movie marathons (where all they do is make fun of, well, everything). He misses her sarcastic comments, and how she rolls her eyes at his cocky arrogant ones. He misses how she scoffs at his smirk but can't help but smile, because though she'll never admit it to anyone else, she loves it.
He misses the way she always has his back. How she will always defend him when he's right, and tells him when he's wrong. How she's not afraid to stand up herself and tell the world what she believes in. How she is infuriatingly stubborn beyond belief and how it angers him when directed at himself, and makes him unbelievably proud when directed at others. He misses how strong she is (he often draws on her strength himself) and how she can put aside her own worries to help someone else. Yet he also misses the few moments where she lets her guard down, where she admits that's she's human and weak, and looks to him for comfort. He could go on and on about every little thing he loves about her and in turn misses her for. But the truth is that he misses everything about her. She's not perfect (she's definitely not) but neither is he. And he loves her all the more or it. If she was perfect she wouldn't be Cammie. Because he loves her flaws as much as he loves her good qualities.
Because he just loves her.
He's sucked back into reality by a tap on his shoulder. He turns around to face the tapper who's standing there with that familiar grin. He's astonished that he didn't hear her coming. Either wasn't paying much attention or she's getting really good(e). He decides that's it's both, because at 4 years old she really is becoming quite the little pavement artist, just like her mother. He smiles as she walks around the couch to crawl into his lap.
"Gotcha daddy!" she says proudly looking up at him with her dazzlingly blue eyes, just like her mother's.
"Alright, alright you got me." He says jokingly, though in truth she really did.
He smirks at her and watches as her face shifts into an identical and equally mischevious one.
" Yessssssss" she exclaims, and he can't help but laugh at her obvious delight at her achievement. "Did you see that Uncle Grantyy. I got him!"
"Soon you're gonna be an even better spy than me, Morgan" Grant laughs scooping her up as she jumps off his lap and barrels into him her long dark hair flying and hitting Jonas in the face.
"Oomph!" he lets out and they all can't help but join in Morgan's infectious giggling.
"That certainly won't be hard to do." Bex slyly adds to Grants comment.
"Hey Morg, got any love for your favorite Aunt?" she adds with a fake pout.
Giggling mischievously, Morgan gets up and makes her way toward Bex and then at the last second runs past her landing on Macey's lap. They all laugh again at the look on Bex's face.
"That's it, come here" she yells playfully as she leaps up. Morgan shrieks and buries herself in Macey's lap but Bex scoops her up and starts to tickle her resulting in more shrieking and giggling. She puts Morgan down who immediately runs back to him.
"Save me daddy!" she says as she hides behind him peeking out from around my shoulders. He chuckles and pull her onto his lap again. Almost immediately she relaxes into his arms and lets out a yawn.
Zach rolls his eyes at the "awwwww's" coming from the gang and stands up lifting Morgan with him.
"Alright you, I think it's time for bed."
"No! I'm not tired."
"I heard that yawn missy. Besides, it's past your bedtime."
"I was not yawning!" she stubbornly protests (we all know where she got that stubbornness from). "I was just…stretching."
"Mhmmm." he says knowingly. "Well regardless it's time for bed okay. So say goodnight to everyone."
"Ughhhh fineeeee." She gives up. I put her down and she runs to everyone and gives them each a hug.
"Goodnight, Aunt Bex, 'night Uncle Grantary, goodnight Aunt Macey, goodnight Uncle Preston, goodnight Aunt Liz, Uncle Jonas!"
They respond with a chorus of goodnights and he scoops her back up and heads up the stairs.
He dumps her unceremoniously onto her bed and she giggles as he pulls up her covers.
She let's out another yawn and snuggles into them.
"Goodnight princess." He says bending down to give her a hug and a kiss on the head.
He's just about to leave the room when he hears a soft voice whisper "Daddy?"
He stops at the doorway. "Yes princess?"
"Do you miss her? Mommy, I mean."
"Yes, I do. I do all the time."
" Me too. I worry sometimes that she's not going to come back. I know it's barely been 3 months but it feels like she's been gone forever."
"I know baby." He said coming back and sitting on the corner of her bed.
"But your mommy is very good(e) at what she does. It runs in the name."
She smiles a bit wistfully at that.
"I know. But I'm still scared for her. And I can't help but miss her. Just like I miss you when you have to go away."
"Believe me, I know. I don't want to go away sometimes, but I have to go and every second I spend away I wish I was here with you and mommy. And I know that mommy wishes she were here too. But we're spies Morg. And
even though we have to go away we will always do our best to come back, because we love you."
"I just wish I could talk to her. That maybe one night, just one, she could call and read me a bedtime story or just even say goodnight."
"I wish she could call too. I wish I could just make sure she was okay. But we can't. " He said the emotion thick in his voice. And right then he was extremely thankful that no one was listening right now, and that the room was dark. Still, he quickly wiped away the silent tear that ran down his cheek. Because Zachary Goode does not cry.
"We just have to trust." He said after the long period of silence. "Do you remember what Mommy and I always say before we leave?"
There was a short silence and then a soft reply
"That you'll always come back to me. No matter what you will always try to come back, because you love me."
"That's right princess. We love you baby, we love you so much. And we will always come back to you. Remember that."
"I will, Daddy, I will." the little girl said sleepily. "I'll never forget it." And with that she drifted off.
Zach kissed his daughter on the forehead and crept silently to the hallway shutting the door to her room behind him.
As he made his way to the stairwell he paused as a thought briefly flickered through his mind.
Neither will I.
A.N.
So? How'd I do? In some ways I think I like it better than the first chapter, but the style does feel a bit different (which again was why I wasn't going to continue.) Still, it's better than I could've done before. Anyway, if you liked it, please let me know! Any feedback is appreciated as always.
R&R ;-)
Love ya,
Courtney