No Copyright Infringement Intended

Title: But I'm Too Young to be A Spy!

Chapter: 2

Pairing: Root/Shaw

Genre: Romance/Drama

Rating: T


"Samantha Groves!" a shrill voice rang through the house and al the way to her room, "What did I tell you about toying around with things you aren't supposed to?"

With a resigned face, she moved from her bed and down the stairs, through the front door and over to the garage. There was metal and shards of glass all over the otherwise impeccable front lawn. Her mother was standing in front of what to any other person would have looked like a pile of rubbish, but Samantha called "her Baby."

Though not a word escaped her pursed pink lips, her mother's face seemed to speak volumes of disappointment. It seemed to say, Oh, Samantha, why do you do this to your poor mother? Does my own mental health and wellbeing not matter to you? What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have to deal with this? Every day, Samantha, this happens every single day.

But little Miss Groves was more concerned about the state of her toy rather than her mother's antics. Without looking at her, she went straight to the pile of shining metal and smoke and ran her hands over it, trying to decipher what was wrong with it. She asked with a perplexed and worried voice, "What happened to it?"

The older woman's face fell, as if saying, well, what do you think? "It fell from the roof, Samantha." And she looked up with a frown, "Almost gave me a heart attack too. Aliens, I said," She was now talking to herself and looking down the sidewalk to see if anyone had noticed the little scene, "They've finally come for us." Then she looked back at her daughter still sitting by the machine, her glasses dirty and messy brown hair falling over her face, kneeling down and studying the broken parts. She could not for the life of her understand this girl's obsession with machines.

Samantha looked up at the sky in confusion, then in wonder. She started to run back to the front door quickly and excitedly, shouting back, "I have an idea!" Ignoring her mother's cries of "Stop right there!" and, "Don't you dare get up on that roof again, young lady!" Realizing it was too late to stop her, she heaved a sigh and got back to trimming her daffodils.


One, two, one, two.

His voice rang in her ears, loud, measured, unforgiving. Sameen's father had a talent for sounding like the perfect army general. A former Marine, he had done four tours in Iraq and Afghanistan before coming home to his daughter, mainly to train her to be the perfect soldier.

His penetrating gaze tore into her back from a distance, and as she reached the corner of her street, she dropped down into a plank position and started twenty pushups, letting the anger fuel her. He continued to look on, chin high and arms crossed.

Since her mother died the year before, this had been the only life she'd known. There was little that mattered to her anymore. The web of lies her father had built around their family and what had happened the previous summer weighted on her like a dark cloud, and she hadn't smiled since that dreaded evening. Her father contented himself with training her ruthlessly, day and night, with the stone cold eyes of a stranger.

To Sameen, this man wasn't her father. When she reported to him in the early hours of dawn dressed impeccably, wide awake and ready for their run, she addressed him with as sir, her tone sharp and clear, her face set.

The first few days after he came back home were filled with a blissful happiness. Sameen was truly glad to finally meet the man she'd heard so many stories about. Her mother seemed to walk as if on air, she would cook more, clean around the house, things were going well. On Friday nights, they would go out to her mother's favorite restaurant. On Sundays, he would take her to a football game, and then they would eat at his favorite steakhouse.

They never did that anymore.

The evening when everything went wrong, Sameen and her father were having fun outside on the front lawn throwing a football around one Sunday night after a game. He pretended to tackle her, and any passing neighbors would smile at seeing young Sameen's beautiful smile and hearing her laugh, neither of which were common occurrences on that street. Her dad was respected, loved and accepted into the community quickly, he would tell stories of the war, one arm around his daughter and another around his wife, as they looked up at him with shining, loving eyes.

He decided to go into the house to ask his lovely wife if she could get them some water, and Sameen threw the football up in the air, watching it in the falling darkness as some dark clouds moved overhead. Suddenly, with a glance over at the door, she saw a glass fall from her father's hands and shatter on the living room floor, his face turning pale, he ran up the stairs to the master bedroom and let out a roar unlike nothing she had ever heard before. As thunder fell and crashed, a shot rang throughout the house, and Sameen was rooted to the ground. As soon as she heard the second shot, she went inside running. A dark figure stood over her parent's bed.

"Go to your room, Shaw!" He said.

Her feet were turned to stone. Her entire body went cold. Voices in her head kept screaming.

"Shaw!"

She walked away.

"Shaw!"

Her eyes blinked open.

"This is for you."

In a quick motion, he handed her a manilla envelope, a stern expression on his face. She looked down at it confusedly, she never got any mail. When she looked back at him his face seemed determined. He moved in front of her and tilted up his chin by means of telling her to stand up straight. She narrowed her eyes and stood with her hands clasped behind her back, feet same width apart as her shoulders. He spoke.

"This envelope contains an invitation to continue your education and become an FBI agent." His stare was almost angry when he saw her dark eyes light up with interest, and he continued in a harsher tone, "Tonight you will write to the admissions office, offer your deepest apologies and say that you unfortunately cannot attend their institution. You will study at West Point, like your father, and my father before that." Sameen's hands tightened around the envelope. "You are to open the envelope and read its contents, run laps around the house and meet me in the kitchen in an hour."

He proceeded to turn towards the house and walk there in a brisk pace. Sameen waited until he had gone inside before looking down at the envelope, sticking it in her gym shorts, putting her hair up in a tight ponytail, and jogged around the house for a few times before pausing in a place somewhere between her house and the neighbor's, and decided to rest in the shade for a bit and read the invitation that had come for her. As she reached behind her she suddenly heard a strange noise from above.

She barely had time to look up before she heard someone screaming and fell back to the ground, a heavy weight on top of her and brown curly hair framing her face, frowning up at the squinting hazel eyes and adorable, apologetic smile of a girl about her age.


A/N: Remember, a review a day keep's the writer's block away!