Author's Note: Sorry this took so long! I hope you like it! :)

Chapter 7:

Macy's POV

Weeks passed. I didn't see things quite the same anymore. I hadn't been taken to the other country, but I still had been kidnapped and held hostage. Things could've been worse, much worse. Things that were such a big deal before I'd been kidnapped weren't even a blip on my radar anymore. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the inner workings of my dad's world. If this was something that was normal for him, I wanted no part of it. If this was what was normal I understood why I'd been kept on the outer rings of his life. If this was normal, keeping me far away was the best thing he could do for me.

Even though I was still slightly upset over the father-daughter dance I knew he cared. The man made me an omelet- he's a Westen, that's showing love to the best of our ability. Saying I love you doesn't mean they love you- you have to show it through your actions. The only thing that would've been the ultimate showing of love on my dad's part would've been if he shared yogurt. My dad loved yogurt. I don't have a memory of him before he came back that didn't include him with a yogurt.

You know those projects you do when you're a little kid in kindergarten or preschool? The teacher asks you to draw a picture of your family. Most of the kids drew their mom and their dad and their older brother or sister then themselves then their little brother or sister then their dog (give or take a family member depending on the family). In the picture they'd all be holding hands. In my picture there was my mom, my dad, me and my imaginary puppy. My mom and dad were on either side of me holding my hands. With my dad, one hand was holding mine and the other was holding yogurt. My mom loved that picture; she said it captured my father perfectly.

School would be out soon for the summer. Summer in Miami is dreadful. It's hot, it's humid, and all the tourists show up. But this summer would be particularly eventful; I just didn't know it yet.

Michael's POV

Fiona and I walked up the stairs to my loft. I knew I was under government surveillance, so when I got home and the door was open it didn't surprise me.

"Looks like you had some visitors," Fiona said.

"Took them long enough!" I said. We walked into the loft and I grabbed a black light out and waved it over my mixture of flour and Day Glow powder. I wanted to see who was there, how many, and what they were after.

"Three man team?" Fiona guessed.

"Sounds about right," I said. "Two sneakers and a loafer."

"They're not terribly careful, your surveillance." Fiona said. As I moved through my loft I realized that the intruders probably wanted my attention.

"They weren't hiding," I said.

"I miss your FBI detail," Fiona said. "They were kind of sweet."

"The Feds were errand boys," I told her. "These guys, on the other hand, might actually know something useful."

"Honestly," Fiona said. "I don't know why they bother. They should just put a bullet in your head and be done with it." I inhaled deeply as I came down the stairs.

"Apparently, I'm more valuable alive than dead," I told her. "But I'm sure they'll take it under advisement."

"You think they're listening?" Fiona asked. I smiled and began make another smart-alec comment and then my phone rang loudly cutting me off. The caller I.D. read 'Macy Westen.' "Yeah, Mace," I said.

"Dad," Macy sounded scared. "There are men outside the house."

"What?" I asked. "What men?"

"I don't know!" Macy's voice trembled. "They've been watching for a while." She said. "Daddy, I'm home alone! They're coming inside." She whispered. I heard her breathing speed up.

"Macy, call the police, now." He said. "Call them right now. Hide. I'm on my way." I hung up and ran out the door and Fiona followed. I drove the Charger to my mom's house as fast as I possibly could. I turned the lights off as we approached and Fiona and I split up for separate jobs.

I ran toward the house. As I approached, I could hear things being smashed. I assessed the situation before I entered, looking through the window, but it only took a second and then I busted through the door.

"Stop right there," a strange man ordered me as he pointed a gun at my face.

"It's okay," I said, putting my hands in the air. "It's okay…" I said one last time, then I pushed his hand away and kicked him the stomach. He toppled over a table and another guy came at me with bat. I ducked under his swing; the bat barely missed my head. I hit him in the back of the leg, just about the knee and pushed him into a book case. The book shelf fell over onto him followed by a plant in a vase that smacked into the bat guy's head.

I pulled my own gun and looked around. "Macy," I called. "Macy," I said again.

"Fourteen minutes!" A man said. "Awe," he said. "I figured you for twelve." Next to him was a trembling Macy. She looked like she was ready to burst into tears. "It's probably those causeways, huh?" He shrugged. "You'll have to forgive my Miami geography. I'm new to town. We're nearly got lost coming from your place." He grabbed Macy's arm. She tried to tug herself away from him, but he held on.

"Macy, are you okay?" I asked her. I had my gun pointed at the man who had a hold of my daughter.

"They got to me before I could call the police," she said holding back her tears as best as any barely-fourteen-year-old girl could. "Then they grabbed me and…"

"It's okay," I told her calmly. "It's okay." I looked up at the man. "You wanna tell me who you are?"

"I'm the new man in your life," he smiled. I raised an eyebrow, not taking an eye off of him. He smiled and pushed Macy toward me. I held out my hand to her and got her behind me. She grabbed onto me, shaking like a leaf.

"It's okay," I whispered to her gently. "It's okay." I kept my gun pointed at the man.

"You pissed off a lot of people," the man said. I saw one of his men getting up. He started to talk about something I'd done, but I wasn't really listening. I was a little more focused on the bat guy standing up behind me. "You're a private citizen." The man said. "You're not supposed to be getting into that thing." I caught the end of it.

"I asked nicely," I said.

"You wanted attention from someone a little higher up on the food chain." He said.

"That's about right," I said, still holding Macy on the side of me, but my gun was no longer pointed at the man.

"Now's your lucky day," he said. "Here I am." He looked toward a shelf. "And here I will stay…" He picked up a glass decoration, shook it and tossed it on the ground. "Until you back off." He annunciated each word carefully. I put my hand to my forehead.

"Daddy what's going on?" Macy asked. I rubbed her back gently.

"Your problem is with me," I told him angrily. "Not with my daughter." I heard my mother walking in. "Or my mother."

Michael, what's going on?" My mom said. She had a few bags of groceries in her hands. She watched the man in charge pick up a knick-knack and throw it on the ground. "Why did he do that?" She asked. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Not now, mom," I said. "Not now." I told her, but I kept myself in between her and this intruder.

"You have no business coming here," I told the man forcefully.

"Oh no, but we do," he said. "See you're a major security risk. You just assaulted two federal agents."

"Go ahead," I told him. I pushed Macy toward my mother gently and then took a step toward the man and handed him my gun. "Arrest me. I'd like to see that indictment."

He took the gun from me and said, "Wouldn't you now?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Listen," he said. "You be a good boy and I'll get out of your hair." He pulled a box cutter from his pocket; I stepped toward my mother and daughter. He smiled a little and cut the fabric of a green and white chair. "Until then, I'll need to keep looking."

"God!" My mom shouted.

The man pulled the stuffing out of the chair. "Sorry, you can't be too careful." I heard my mom exhale with anger. I slammed the door as the government surveillance walked out of my mom's house. I realized he's the kind of surveillance that was there to make my life difficult, not to search for anything.

My mom looked at Macy who was still shaking. "C'mere sweetie," my mom hugged her. "Michael, what was that about?"

"Nothing," I said.

"Are they g… gonna come back?" Macy asked.

"No," I said. "I think you're safe." I said. I walked over to her and she hugged me again. I kissed the top of head and held onto her.

"Michael," mom said. "You better be planning on staying to clean this up."

"Okay mom," I said. Fiona came into the house.

"Well, they sure did a number here," she said.

"Yeah," I said. She turned to Macy. I could see Macy's fear turning into anger.

"Hey there," she said. "Did they hurt you?"

"No," Macy crossed her arms. "They just made me angry." She said.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked her. She nodded. I looked at my watch. "It's almost 11 O'clock." I said. "You should go to bed, don't you have school tomorrow?"

"It's the summer dad," She said. Her fists were clenched tight as she tried not shake. She was still scared.

"Right," I said. "You should go to bed, it's late."

She glared. "Fine," she said. "But maybe you'll want this first." She pulled a leather wallet out of her pocket. "He wouldn't tell me his name, so I took matters into my own hands." She tossed it at me. "Have fun with this."

"Wait, Macy, how'd you get this?" She turned around.

"You have your skills, I have mine- can we leave it at that?"she asked. She stretched. "I'm tired, dad."

"Go to bed, but this conversation isn't over."

"Whatever you say," she smiled and went to her bedroom.

"Michael, your daughter's a thief," Fiona smiled. "I think I like her a little bit more."

"She did save me a plan," I said.

"Well, are you going to open it?" Fiona asked. I nodded.

"After, I pick up this mess," I said.

"Well, then I guess I won't know until tomorrow," Fiona smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow Michael." She walked out the door and I stuck the agent's wallet in my pocket. Of all the night's events, the one that took the most time in my mind was my learning my daughter could pick pockets…

I wasn't sure if I should be proud, because I'm a spy and that's a good skill for a spy, or scared, because I'm her father and I just found out my daughter could be a criminal.