Mr. Waverly's office felt a lot cozier then his waiting room. The room painted a mute brown with the same cherry-wood molding lining the walls. His walls were decorated with war paintings including, what I assumed was the original, "Washington Crossing the Delaware" painting. The gentleman let go of my arm as he walked around the desk. I watched the old man with a certain curiosity.

"I will tell you one thing, Uncle Alex, you certainly run a tight ship around here." I smiled at the Brit. His eyes sparkled with humor as he dropped to his seat. I couldn't believe how old he'd gotten, and try to imagine how my father would look if he'd lived to be in his 60s.

"Do you think your father would be proud," he asked with a smile.

"Undoubtedly, and a little jealous of the decor." We both giggled at that. Alexander Waverly waved his hand as his silent way to ask me to sit. A commander through and through.

"How are you holding up my dear?" His concern calmed the hurt that began to well up inside me. His wrinkled hand covered mine with a firm but kind grip. These aren't the hands that held me tight as I helped tie down masts or swung me around when he played airplane. But it was the same hard expression that would scold me when I got caught fighting in school or sneaking out of the house to go to the lake. Now I look into those same eyes that watched me closely as I was informed of the deaths of my parents. Four years since the "accident" and I've grown up since then. Uncle Alex, my father's best friend and Navy com-padre, knew I could take care of myself, but made sure to protect me from a far. He never was a subtle man, especially once he had the resources.

"I'm holding up. I guess I just want to believe that maybe it is all a bad dream and mom is going to wake me from this nightmare."

"I find myself dialing their number so that Carol and I can invite them over for dinner."

"They would always said yes." We were silent for a second as we gave some reverence to two incredible people.

"Alright to the reason you are here." He pulled back and immediately reverted to his commander role. Being a Navy Brat, I sat up straighter and became a solider like my father taught me.

"Charlotte, I have asked you here because I have a rather unusual position that I need filled but I need someone I can trust and know will be able to take care of herself."

Take care of herself? "Wha-"

"Let me explain. As you know I am in the business of security. Well we aren't talking about bank cops and park rangers, I run an International Security organization call the U.N.C.L.E."

"Are you going to have to kill me now," I joked. He wasn't impressed.

"If you refuse the position I just might have too."

"What is the position?"

"I need a housekeeper to live-in and watch a home for one of my operatives."

"Why?"

"Mr. Kuryakin, has decided that he is tired of the spaciously crowded quarters of the security base for my operatives. He calms that he has been in national security for so long he has earned the right to have something normal in his life."

"And he thinks having a home will be that normal thing?"

"Mr. Kuryakin has been work as a spy for government agencies since he turn 18. That was seventeen years ago. And even before that he never really had a home. His mother was a Russian gypsy that his father feel in love with. They were never truly grounded."

"So he really wants some roots. Hmm."

"Yes, but the problem is the he is one of my most highly sought after operative. His life is constantly in danger. I want to hire you to protect the house as if it were your own, but be there to clean and cook for the times that he is home." Mr. Waverly's hard expression had softened a little as he talked about his operative. He cared about his agents in private but he couldn't let them know. I saw the Uncle Alex under the Mr. Waverly exterior.

"I would need some more recent training on self-defense. But I more curious how it would look for a young lady to be the live in housekeeper for a young man? People will talk especially in the city."

"Mr. Kuryakin, has picked a secure estate outside city limits. It is mostly hidden by a small orchard and a forest grove. The grounds are extensive and beautiful. We've used it as government meeting place before. I think you will be quite cozy there." The old man smiled.

I crossed my arms. I shot him my best unimpressed stare. He smirked knowing that he is the one that taught me that look. When I was little I would spend a half hour in front of the mirror practicing before he would come over. He'd always have a small critique, but I knew he was proud. Now that I was older the look had been perfected with a slight womanly twist, and it took Mr. Waverly off guard just enough.

"Being out in the country no one will really see you, but your employer is hardly home and I highly doubt he will try to compromise you in anyway." Well that is flattering. "I don't think we will have to worry about that appearance. But you do get to go shopping for a nicer wardrobe."