Hello. Just publishing the latest chapter to my story. I'm trying to cut down the time between updates, but I have a few things going on in my personal life that have been taking center stage of late, so it's been tough finding the time to write. Also, I'm trying to nail down the direction I want to take the story. I have a few thoughts on that, and you'll see those start to develop in this chapter. I hope to have the next chapter up and written by next week or the following week at worst. Hopefully, that'll be an improvement over the three weeks it took this time, which was an improvement over the month it took to get Chapter 2 out. I'm trying, I really am. :-D

Again, thanks to BDaddyDL for letting me bounce a few ideas off of his head. He's a very busy person, so I always appreciate him giving me some time to run a few ideas by him.

As always, please leave reviews. Writers love to know that you're reading their stories. It's what keeps us going and inspires us to come up with new ideas. Actually, I already have a third Next Gen story I may try. But let's see how this one goes first.

Ferguson Hall, MI-5 Headquarters, London
August 5, 2033
1:00 PM GMT

John was pretty certain he was paralyzed. He couldn't move, and the big smile on his face would not go away. He wanted to get out of bed but he didn't have the strength.

Not that he minded much. The reason for the big smile on his face was lying naked on top of him with an equally big smile on her face.

His breathing had finally returned to normal. He hadn't seen Samantha in almost five months, and it was hard to concentrate on anything else in all that time. He could attribute his B in Differential Calculus to the number of late-night phone calls to Samantha to see how she was doing. Thankfully, his parents didn't keep tabs on his phone usage like they had been for Emma with all of the boys calling her for dates. Samantha and John talked about everything…or at least as much as she could reveal about agent training in British Intelligence. Fortunately, John picked up his father's gift of gab somewhere down the line, and Samantha was quite content to just listen.

"I think we're in big trouble," John said, although the smile on his face didn't fade one iota. "If our parents and their friends haven't guessed what we've been doing by now, they'd have to be the dumbest people on the planet."

"I blame you," Samantha replied, her grin a little more on the wicked side. "You're too cute and you've got that athletic build and are completely unselfish between the sheets. It's impossible to resist you. You took advantage of an oversexed girl with your boyish charms and your killer body."

"Oh, I did not. Besides, you were the aggressor most of the time."

"By the way, since you said it to me enough times, should I just have my name legally changed to God?"

"Can you blame me? Some of the things you did to me defy the laws of physics."

"Look who's talking! At least I'm still nice enough to call you by your proper name."

"That's because I make it easy on you. John. It's one syllable. I have to remember three syllables. How many guys do you know who can even remember what day it is when they're having sex? Especially with someone as incredible and wild as you?"

"What can I say? It pays to be in shape. Those Pilates and advanced yoga classes really came in handy. I didn't know I could bend that way."

"I didn't know ANYBODY could bend that way."

Samantha laughed. "Oh, stop it," she said as she started kissing along his neck and caressing his chest.

"Mmmm, we really should get dressed and meet everybody," John said with a sigh. Samantha kept kissing his chest and running her hands all over him. "They're waiting for us." Her hand proceeded lower, making John's sense of responsibility fade quickly. "You're not even listening to me."

"Not even a little," Samantha hotly whispered into his ear and tickled it with her tongue.

"What will our parents say?" John moaned as he lost the battle of wills.

"Come on. They know what we're doing and they've been friends for over twenty years. How could they possibly get mad?"

Elements Restaurant, Southwark, London
August 5, 2033
1:15 PM GMT

The staredown had been going on for almost thirty minutes. If they weren't looking at each other, they were looking at the two empty chairs saved for John and Samantha. Anticipating a potential problem, Casey, Gertrude, Jimmy, and Alex made sure there were plenty of tables, chairs, and human beings separating Sarah from Carina. Never in his life did Chuck see Carina as upset as she was now. And the fact she was upset at his wife made things even more uncomfortable.

"Show him her dorm room?" Sarah asked in an accusatory tone.

"And who was the one to let him go, may I ask?" Carina countered. "Don't try to tell me your son is so sheltered that he didn't know what she wanted. They've been talking to each other since March."

"Two more scotches," Casey tiredly called to their server. "On second thought, just bring the entire bottle."

Gertrude elbowed his ribs. "Oh, please. Remember the movie we took the girls to last week? You growled away any boy who even came near Olga and Natalya. You can't blame Sarah and Carina for not wanting their children to do anything crazy."

"Yeah, I'd see how you're such an expert at living a quiet life. When did you bed your first mark? Sixteen or seventeen?"

"Casey!" Sarah said angrily. "This is not about what any of us did! I want my son to live a normal, quiet life. I know Samantha's a great girl, but she's going to be an agent, and I really don't think it's a good idea for an inexperienced civilian to be with someone who is trained to be a spy."

"Gee, thanks honey," Chuck replied quietly, slinking further into his seat.

"That was different," Sarah snapped. "You were 26 when I met you. John is only 18 and hasn't even started college."

"OK, none of us will win a Saint of the Year Award," Alex interjected in a calm voice. "Can either of you say you never went to bed with someone at their age?" Both Sarah and Carina begrudgingly shook their heads. "So both of you will look like hypocrites if you try to get in their faces about this."

Carina exhaled in frustration. "You're right, Alex. But someone has to talk to them. Maybe someone who didn't go out on dates at their age or didn't have friends to hang out with."

Everyone turned towards Jimmy. "Oh, shut up!" he growled as everyone but Sarah broke up in laughter.

Jimmy turned to Sarah. "Sarah, John's a really good kid. He's had girlfriends before, right? This is no different. We tried to help him as best as we could when rescuing you two, but Sam really did the heavy lifting. She kept him calm and focused. In a situation like that, the two of them couldn't help but become closer. I doubt either of them is in it just for fun. I'd bet dollars to doughnuts they're in it for the long haul."

"Jimmy's right," Carina added. "Samantha is much more responsible than I was at her age."

"Define backhanded compliment…" Casey muttered under his breath, earning a glare from both Alex and Gertrude.

Sarah was still fuming as John and Samantha walked up to the table. The entire group stared at them, and they quietly took their seats.

"So…" John said sheepishly, concentrating on the menu so he didn't have to look at anybody. "Did everybody already order?"

Sarah glared at John and Samantha but didn't say a thing. Everybody else avoided eye contact.

"John, there comes a time in every young man's life when…" Jimmy started, only to be smacked upside the head by Casey. "Finally, I get hit for a good reason," Jimmy grumbled.

Sarah's eyes continued to shoot daggers at her son. Even though she knew John had dated before and even had a steady girlfriend while he was a junior, knowing what he was doing with Samantha was still a tough pill for any mother to swallow, regardless of what she may have done at his age. Suddenly, the anger started to fade a bit. She felt Chuck's hand holding hers as he rubbed his thumb against her palm. She turned in his direction and saw that same dulcet look in his eyes that helped her so many times in her life, such as when they danced at Ellie and Devon's wedding, or when he promised to find her dream house or when Daniel Shaw captured her.

"John," Sarah began quietly, attempting to keep everyone else out of the conversation. "It's difficult for me to talk about this, especially since you didn't know who I really was all of this time and some of things I did would never qualify me as a role model. But as a mother, I'm not immune to not wanting my child to grow up too quickly. And when she knows her son…"

Sarah fumbled with her words and simply gestured between John and Samantha. Chuck gave her other hand a gentle squeeze under the table, and she found the courage to continue. "But I…I just want to make sure that there is something…there…between Samantha and you. It would be comforting to me that you believe there is a true connection between the two of you and you're not just out there being irresponsible."

John felt a bit flustered. He didn't know how to react because he wasn't even sure if Samantha felt the same way about him he felt about her. However, Samantha interlacing her fingers in his under the table and squeezing his hand tightly gave him the answer. "I understand what you mean, Mom," he finally said. "And trust me; I think we might be serious about this."

Sarah sat back in her chair and exhaled slowly. The glare that had been in her eyes since John and Samantha sat down was gone. And the tension around the table ebbed with it. Everybody started looking at their menus.

"Just make sure you used…" Casey growled.

"We did, Uncle Casey," John quickly replied, his eyes widened in mortification. "We did."

Surbiton Cemetery, Kingston Upon Thames, London
August 30, 2033
11:30 PM GMT

Carolyn Hurley looked around nervously. Ordinarily a ten-year veteran of MI-5 wouldn't be nervous even in a cemetery at night. However, a number of rumors had spread recently throughout the Agency regarding the disappearance of Tony Furlan and Grace Sullivan in the last three weeks. Rumors were nothing new to British Intelligence; Carolyn even enjoyed the fact that office politics were just as prevalent in her job as any normal job. However, the lack of details regarding their disappearance was frustrating. No agent ever wanted to see one their own killed, even if they didn't know them. She knew some of the 'cover stories' the SIS used when their agents were killed in the line of duty; she could even tell the way they died by the story that was released. However, not even that had happened. Something about it didn't feel right.

Her contact would be here soon. He was quite vague on the phone, but she had cultivated this contact over the years and kept him off of the books. MI-5 didn't even know his name, where he lived, or what he did for a living. They kept in contact with each other through email accounts they changed every week and a device that would mask the IP address of the computers they used. Although cyber cafés fell out of style several years ago, the occasional one could still be found in case the metro wi-fi connections didn't work. Her contact had some information for her that he promised was worth the wad of cash she had in an envelope in her hand. Plus, he knew she would be quite displeased if the information didn't pan out. And one did not want to be the cause of a displeased agent, particularly one with Carolyn's skills.

She only heard the faintest hint of a whoosh, something only the best-trained agents in the world would have picked up on. And she only picked up on it a microsecond before her world suddenly went black. Blood soaked the small grouping of headstones where Carolyn stood mere seconds ago, her lifeless body now in a place now apropos for it.

Arthur Pollard approached the body lying in the grass. The L115A3 long range sniper rifle did its job to perfection. He activated a signal scrambler on his belt designed to block any radio signals for a two-hundred yard radius. He placed rubber gloves on his hands and reached into Carolyn's purse. He found the emergency callout signal and placed it in her hand, curling her fingers around it. He activated it, but the signal wouldn't be picked up until he took his scrambler out of range. He then walked back to the place where he fired the shot. From a plastic bag, he took a handful of fibers and scattered them in the grass. If the investigators did their jobs well, they would deduce the fibers were from a Ghillie suit made for snipers at Fort Benning in Georgia and for snipers with the British Army. Combined with the memo Tyler Cook implanted in the file systems at MI-5 requesting a trainee from the Sniper System Improvement Programme (SSIP), it would turn quite a number of heads in the wrong direction.

Once the incident made its way through the SIS, it would be time to shake the trees and see if any fruit fell off.

Mill Road, City Centre, Cambridge, UK
September 28, 2033
11:30 AM GMT

John carried the last 2 suitcases up the stairs to his apartment on the third floor. Despite being a high school athlete, he was still quite winded. His parents and he had made the trip up the stairs a dozen times already, carrying the TV, refrigerator, bed, couch, chairs, and endless supplies he would need for the spacious-for-a-college-student apartment he would be renting for the next year or four. Endless mostly to his mother acting like a mother who was dropping off her first child at college. But no matter how much it annoyed him, it was to be expected.

After arriving at Heathrow last night and staying in a hotel near the airport, Chuck, Sarah, and John rented a truck and picked up the items they bought online at a local store and drove them up the M11 to the apartment they found through a local real estate agent Carina recommended. Although the apartment wasn't furnished, it was in a great area and was walking distance to plenty of shops and restaurants as well as the university itself. The fact it was also close to several pubs popular among the students was a nice feature he chose not to share with his parents.

"OK, that's the last of it," John said with a huff as he put his suitcases down. He walked into the bedroom to see his parents putting the sheets on the bed. "Mom, Dad, you don't have to worry about doing that. I can handle it."

"Oh, really?" his mother said with a raised eyebrow. "If I left this to you, I could come back here in two months and you'd still be sleeping right on top of the mattress."

"I make my bed at home," John protested.

"But this is college, and I won't be looking over your shoulder. Believe me, that old adage is true: when the cat's away, the mice will play."

"Mom, please..."

She finished straightening the pillows and looked at her son. "Do you mind if I get some quality mothering in before I have to return home? Just indulge me, will you?"

John smiled. "You spent most of last night at Aunt Carina's house cooking up three weeks' worth of dinners for me that are stuffed into that little freezer, and I have a meal plan with the university. Believe me, nobody would ever think of revoking your Mom card."

Chuck laughed as he put on his coat. "Come on, honey," he said to Sarah. "You can't miss him if you don't leave."

Sarah exhaled. Her own first day at college didn't feel like this because she was still getting over the shock the federal government told her only three months before they would pay her way through Harvard. By contrast, she knew for years that this day would come. The day her baby would leave the nest.

"OK. Be safe, sweetie," Sarah said as she hugged John tightly, shaking a bit as she embraced him. "I love you."

"Love you too, Mom," John replied gently, trying to keep his own emotions in check.

"Take care, son," Chuck said as he gave John a hug. "We've never been more proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad."

Chuck and Sarah walked out of John's apartment and walked down the stairs of the old building, which like many buildings in the area, never installed elevators. They exited the building on the street level and headed back to the moving truck. Sarah stopped and looked up at the floor where John's apartment was.

"Are you OK?" Chuck asked her gently.

Sarah nodded, although her eyes were welling up quickly. "I'm fine," she lied.

Chuck gave a gentle smile and pulled her into his embrace. Sarah broke down crying in his arms. Damn that wonderful nerd she married over twenty years ago. She never liked to cry, no matter how much the situation warranted it, and he always managed to coax it out of her.

"I miss him too, sweetie," Chuck said softly into her ear as his frame enveloped her.

"God, I'm so embarrassed," she said quietly, trying to choke back a few tears. "I knew this day was coming. This is what we've always wanted for him. Why am I acting like a blubbering idiot?"

Chuck laughed tenderly. "Baby, the day you stop being emotional about things like this is the day I start worrying about you."

Her grip on Chuck intensified to the point of fracturing a few ribs. After a few minutes, she wiped her tears away and looked up at him. "You gave me this moment. A moment I never dreamed I could have. You've given me so many moments that made me so happy."

She slid her hands over his cheeks and held his face tightly. "I know how you get annoyed when I worry I don't say 'I love you' enough. But that's only because it can't be said enough. I love you more than you could ever know."

She pulled his face down to hers and put every last ounce of energy into giving him a passionate kiss, her hands running through his hair. He held onto her on that city block as they expressed their love for each other, the rest of the world be damned.

Mill Road, City Centre, Cambridge, UK
September 30, 2033
8:00 PM GMT

John pressed the fingerprint identification pad to his apartment, and the door unlocked. He thought it funny they could install high-tech security like that and yet not figure out how to put in an elevator. It didn't matter much to him, but other residents in the building weren't in as good of shape…especially when they came home from the pubs after closing time…and they sometimes struggled getting up the stairs to their apartments.

He tried calling Samantha a couple of times, but her iComm would go to voicemail. She knew he would be at Cambridge by now. Perhaps she was on some classified mission. She wouldn't be able to tell him without killing him.

But what a way to go, he thought with a grin on his face.

He opened the freezer and took a look at the stacks of plastic dishes inside. He chuckled when he remembered his mother sometimes left little notes in the lunches she packed for him when he was just a boy. He was smart enough to keep those hidden so the other kids didn't tease him about a piece of paper saying 'Mommy loves you" on it, but he found it so hysterical now that same person used to torture, seduce, and even kill for a living. Clearly somewhere along the way…about twenty years ago, in fact…she became what could only be described as the All-American Mom. But despite not knowing the truth about his family until only recently and being put in grave danger because of it, John knew he lucked out when it came to having wonderful parents.

He turned in surprise when he heard a knock on his door. He closed the freezer and went to the door. He checked the image on the small security monitor next to the door and his eyes widened in excitement. He threw the door open.

"Chinese takeaway?" Samantha said, holding a few Chinese takeaway containers in her hands.

John grinned and gave her a kiss. Samantha carefully wrapped her arms around him, trying not to spill any of the food she brought.

"I left you several messages," John said, trying to contain his excitement. He stepped back to let her into the apartment.

"I know, and I'm sorry for not replying. Working at the SIS for the last six weeks has been…"

Samantha let the words trail off, and John saw the look of stress on her face. "Are you OK?"

Samantha nodded with little enthusiasm. "I just needed to get away from London for a while. See a friendly face. And there isn't a face friendlier than yours."

She gave him a kiss. "But I'm also hungry, so let's have some dinner."

"Of course," John replied and gestured towards the living room area. Samantha laid the boxes on a small table while John retrieved two cans of soda from the refrigerator.

"I'm sorry I don't have anything stronger yet. I'm still digging through my boxes to find my passport, and I don't get my university ID until Monday."

"That's fine, John," Samantha said as she took one of the boxes and a pair of chopsticks out of the bag. She sat down on one end of the couch as John sat down on the other end, leaning forward to see what Samantha brought. He settled for some moo shu pork.

"Have you worked in the office since taking the oath?"

Samantha nodded. "Even someone who was fast-tracked like me doesn't go out into the field right away. Mostly I've been looking over old mission profiles, doing analysis, and writing reports."

"Ugh, that does sound boring. I can understand getting tired of that."

"That's not the problem, unfortunately." Samantha took a long exhale. "Obviously you can't say this to anyone, but I needed to get this off of my chest. There's a lot of tension around British Intelligence these days. Two agents were killed recently, and three others haven't been heard from in some time."

John sat back on the couch. "Wow. I'm so sorry."

"Everybody is really on edge, and a lot of rumors have been swirling around. I really don't know who to believe."

"You didn't ask your mother about this? I would think she could give you better answers than I ever could."

Samantha shook her head. "I gave it some thought, but I don't really want her to know about this. Either she'd think I was already having trouble handling the job, or she might freak out about me if I told her what these rumors were."

"What do you mean?"

Samantha paused for a moment and looked at the ground. John guessed she was deciding in her mind if she should tell him what was going on. In a way, the fact she was even contemplating it made him realize just how special he was to her.

Slowly, she looked at John again. "Some of the people around the Agency think they were killed under orders."

John's eyes widened. "No way."

"There's no way to prove it, obviously. It's all hearsay and unsubstantiated claims. But a number of people are afraid someone high up in the command structure might have gone rogue and are ordering the elimination of certain agents."

John sat there for a moment, trying to process what Samantha told him. "What do you think?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I feel frustrated not knowing what to think."

"I don't think you should feel frustrated, though. How is anybody supposed to react to this?" John paused for a moment. "You don't think, that you'll…you know…"

Samantha shook her head with a tired smile. "I'm some rookie agent who hasn't even been on her first mission. I mean, who am I?"

"Someone very, very incredible, based on what I've seen," John said with a smile.

Samantha turned back to him and smiled. "Thanks, John. I'm so sorry to put all of this on your doorstep…"

John moved behind her and gently massaged her shoulders. "Hey, do not even think of being sorry. You were there for me when my parents were kidnapped. I couldn't have gotten through that without you. This is the least I could do for you."

Samantha lay back against John as he continued to massage her shoulders. She gave a sigh of contentment. "Mmm, you are really good at that. I made the right call coming here."

"Well, I've been told women appreciate a guy who can relax them with a good massage."

"Did your dad say that?"

"Uncle Jimmy, actually. He said it was the only reason Aunt Alex has stayed with him all of these years. I assume he was kidding."

"Based on what your mom and mine told me of him, I'm not so sure he is."

John laughed. "Maybe you're right."

Samantha moaned quietly in pleasure. To John, it almost sounded like a purring cat. "I was going to suggest heading down to the pub tonight, but you're doing such a good job with that massage, I might have to skip right to ravaging you."

John smiled. "We could go to the pub if you want. I can always continue this later."

Samantha turned around and put her lips to his. "Mmmm, how about some light ravaging and then we'll go to the pub," she intoned in a smoky, libidinous voice as she pushed John back on the couch and lay on top of him.

Redbridge, London, UK
September 30, 2033
6:30 PM GMT

Mr. Lightman poured over the surveillance footage from the offices of British Intelligence for the day. So far, his plan was one out of two successful conversions. Even better, the tension around the SIS had increased over the past few weeks, and the fingers were pointing. This was what he had hoped the files implanted in the servers would do. He now had a fourth agent willing to help him, although he kept that agent in the dark regarding what Daemon's plans truly were. The other agent they tried to ensnare hesitated with their desires for a change. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to let that agent have time to think, so they met with a most unfortunate accident. Drivers around London sometimes did not look where they were going.

He caught something on one of the surveillance feeds from thirty minutes ago. A young woman exited the offices of MI-5 and headed to the train station. He froze the image and checked her face against his personnel database. He saw the name Samantha Collins. There wasn't much in her file, but there were certainly plenty of stories floating around about the youngest agent in the Secret Service in over sixty years. He didn't have many details, but he knew it had something to do with an American operation she had somehow become involved in. When she returned, she was put on the fast-track for agent status.

Lightman furrowed his brow. She was heading to a British Rail station rather than the Underground. That itself was unusual, as any agent could simply sign out a car and drive to wherever they wanted.

Unless she doesn't want her supervisor to know where she was going, he thought.

He checked the schedules for trains that would leave around the time she went into the station. Mr. Lightman was curious to know where Samantha Collins was going. And whom she was seeing.

She would be a welcome addition to Daemon.