Hello readers! I just wanted to say thank you for everyone who has given this story a chance, and a special thank you to everyone who's reviewed! This story recently hit a pretty big landmark number for the number of views on the story, and I really appreciate it. In comparison, I know I haven't gotten many reviews or favorites or follows, but I really appreciate everyone who has. I know the Gallagher Girls fandom is an older, quiet (but not dead!) fandom, but I mostly started writing this as a challenge to myself, and for my own satisfaction, so the attention that I have gotten from readers is super great!

"Kiddo?"

"What, mom?"

Cam was sitting at the little desk that sat in the corner of her bedroom, her back turned to me. There were papers scattered across the top of her desk, and the box of her new colored pencils was open and leaning against her lamp.

"Aunt Abby's back from her trip. Do you want to go meet her for lunch? And then maybe we could go to the playground?"

"Yeah! Just gimme a minute, mommy." Cam's head swung around so she could answer me, but she went right back to work at whatever was on her desk.

I took two steps inside of her room, stepping over the jump rope and dolls that lay scattered across the floor so I could look at what she was doing.

"Are those the puzzles daddy gave you?" I asked. There were logic puzzles, basic decryption puzzles, and riddles, all printed on pages and solved in a rainbow of colored pencil.

"Yeah. But, can you check this last one for me? It's different than the other ones."

She slid off of her little chair and held a paper out for me to take. This paper, unlike the other ones, had been printed with an old matrix dot printer. On the paper were rows and rows of numbers and letters, and under them, written in grass-green pencil, was a decrypted message about a CIA field office in Qatar.

"I'm not sure if it's right." Cam said, biting her lower lip and crossing her arms.

"Why do you think you didn't do it right?" I asked, trying to come to terms with the fact that I was looking at an NSA Sapphire Series Code, and that my daughter, who had just finished pre-school, had decrypted it.

How did she even get—

"Well, you and daddy said that the letters Q and U go together, but I don't know that word—" She pointed at the word Qatar, "But the Q is followed by an A, so I think I might have done it wrong, but all of the other As seem like they're in the right place, so—"

"No, sweetie, this is exactly right. Qatar is a place—it's a country in the Middle East. Its name is Arabic, and the Q and U rule doesn't really apply." My four-year-old daughter just cracked an NSA code. "This is a very difficult puzzle, kiddo. I'm really proud of you for solving it."

I crouched down to give Cam a one-armed hug, all the while looking message she had decrypted.

"Thanks, mommy." She mumbled into my shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, I let her go. She was smiling, her blue eyes sparkling.

"I'm going to take this." I said, standing up and smoothing the hem of my shirt. "Why don't you change into a shirt that doesn't have a jelly stain on it, and then, before we go meet Aunt Abby, we can show this to daddy together?"

"Okay." Cam agreed, spinning and scampering over to her closet.

I snuck out of her room, and crept down the stairs. I found Matt in the tiny office next to the living room. He was looking through piles of manila folders that held totally innocuous personal papers, like our tax records.

"Would you, by chance, be looking for an NSA Sapphire Series coded message about a field office in Qatar?"

"Oh my god, where did you find it?" He sighed, looking up from an overstuffed folder. He looked immediately relieved.

"Cam had it."

He blinked twice, slowly, his eyes as wide as an owl's.

"Did she?"

"Yes. And she decrypted it, too."

"What?" In two strides, he was next to me, looking down at the printed message and our daughter's translation in disbelief. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"She, uh…"

"Thought it was another puzzle."

"Well, it technically is."

"You gave our daughter a document that contains information that you need at least a level five or six clearance level to know about, and it was encrypted with a level four NSA code."

"Yes." Matt said slowly, looking down at the paper in dismay.

"You're supposed to turn this in with your mission report, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Colored pencil is difficult to erase."

"I know."

He glanced up from our daughter's sloppy green writing, and, looking at me, sighed.

Matt looked so utterly reconciled that I couldn't stop myself—I giggled.

"Sorry, Rach, are you laughing at me? Or are you laughing at the situation?"

"Both." I smirked, turning just in time to see Cammie slip in the room, wearing a clean shirt.

"Daddy? Did you see I solved the puzzle?"

"I did see. I'm proud of you, sweetie."

Matt picked our daughter up, and held her in his arms as he kissed her on the crown of her head.

"Can we take it with us so we can show Aunt Abby what I did?" Cam asked, pointing to the paper in my hands. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

"Oh, sweetie, I don't want to get anything on it. What if you spill your juice on it? Or what if Aunt Abby gets ketchup on it?"

Cam's frowned slightly, and looked down at the paper in Matt's hands.

"Okay." She accepted. "We'll leave it here."

As Matt's eyes widened in relief, I took mercy on him and stole Cammie from his arms.

"Come on, kiddo. Let's go put your shoes on."

I gave him one final self-righteous smirk—which he matched with a glare that was equal parts embarrassed and irritated—before striding out of the room to track down Cam's sandals.