Haylie in Trouble

Haylie, her eyes cast down, kept silent as they stepped out of the school building – which, itself, was rather unusual, as his daughter talked a mile a minute most of the times. Still, for once Grant was almost glad for it, because he hoped it meant that she was feeling at least a bit guilty.

He had gotten the call in the middle of a tactical meeting – it was Haylie's headmistress calling to inform him that his daughter had gotten into a fight, and was waiting for being picked up from school. So, yes, he was mildly… irritated, not just because he had had to leave a meeting where they were planning an intricate mission, but mostly because he had though they had raised Haylie better than this.

Haylie didn't say a word or even lift her head until they reached the car, where he stopped, arms crossed in front of his chest, and turned to her before she could have opened the backseat door.

"Don't you have something to say?" he asked – partially because he wanted to hear that she was sorry, and partially because there were still gaps in the story he hoped to fill –, making Haylie look up at him. She bit into her lower lip (she was so much like Skye when she did that), then her gaze flitted to the asphalt again.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she said in a small voice. "I'm sorry that you had to come here for me."

"That's it?" he asked with a slight edge in his voice.

Grant knew that she really was genuinely sorry for having him dragged here, that was no question. Skye was currently out of the country on a last-minute thing (oh, how he hated those! It made scheduling things almost impossible), so taking care of the girls was suddenly solely up to him for a day or two; and he had discussed it with them that he would be having a Very Important Meeting that day, and that Uncle Fitz would be picking them up from school and daycare, so Haylie had to know how important this tactical meeting must have been – and yet, he was here now, looking down at a pretty guilty-looking eight-year-old.

For the first time since he had picked her up from in front of the headmistress' office, Haylie looked at him with an almost defiant look in her eyes.

"I'm not sorry that I hit him!" she said, her shoulders stiffening, the corners of her mouth trembling in frustration. "I'm not!" He blinked at her, slightly taken aback by her outburst, but before he could have said anything, she continued. "He was calling Abbie names, daddy!"

Alright, that was new information – all that the headmistress had told him was that Haylie had gotten into a fight with a boy from her class. The how and the why was still a mystery to him.

"He was calling her names?" he asked, his voice significantly softer, to which Haylie nodded wildly.

"Yes, really bad ones. He was making her cry," she said, her own eyes getting teary.

"So you punched him?"

"No…" she said carefully. "At first I told him to stop doing it, nicely, like when mommy tells Uncle Lance to stop doing silly stuff for the first time," (he had a really hard time not to smile upon hearing that) "but he kept doing it."

"So then you punched him."

Haylie took a big breath, puffing her chest out. "Yes, I did. Right in the face," she said almost proudly. "Just to stop him being mean," she added as a clarification.

Grant sighed, being thankful and slightly annoyed at the same time for his daughter having a sense of justice worth of an agent at the age of eight, then he knelt down to be at eye level with Haylie.

"Show me your hand!" he said gently. Haylie only hesitated for a moment, then placed her tiny hand in her father's palm. Grant pushed back the sleeve of her cardigan to examine her hand; her knuckles were slightly red, and maybe a bit swollen – she even winced a bit as he gently pushed at her first knuckle –, but it didn't seem serious (still, he was getting a little bit furious at the school for not having the nurse take a look at her). "We'll have to ice it, but you'll live," he told her with a small smile. "And then what did happen?"

"He was a bit surprised at first," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile she knew she shouldn't be wearing, "but then he tried to grab my hair. So I stomped on his foot and pushed him to the ground, like you taught me." (Alright, it was something he couldn't deny. But then again, he only wanted his daughters to be able to defend themselves.) "But then the teacher came, and pulled us apart."

Grant swallowed and let go of her hand, not really knowing what to say now. A part of him just couldn't scold Haylie for stand up for a friend (also, a maybe slightly immature part of him was kind of proud at Haylie for going against a kid half a head taller and twenty pounds heavier than her, and, technically, winning), while the responsible parent in him wanted to tell her that it was not okay simply beating people up (no matter how much one wanted to do that from time to time).

"Look, princess," he started slowly, putting his hand on Haylie's shoulder. "I'm not going to say that you weren't right – calling people names is a mean thing to do –, but… do you know what makes mommy and daddy good agents?" Haylie shook her head, not even blinking. "We know when to call for back-up. Sometimes… sometimes it's just not our business to do things. Sometimes we have to call bigger guys, people who know more about the situation or have more right to take care of things, because that's the best for everybody."

"I should have asked for help, too?"

"Yes," Grant nodded, glad that she understood this. "Next time if something like this happens, just tell a teacher, okay?" he added, just to make things clear. "That way you won't get into trouble again."

"Okay," Haylie nodded confidently, then, grimacing for a moment, she added, "but I'm still not sorry that I punched him."

Grant let out a short laugh and kissed the top of Haylie's head.

"I was sure of that," he said, stood up, and opened the back door of the car for Haylie. "Now, hop in! I have a meeting to get back to – what do you say I drop you off at Uncle Fitz's lab until I finish?"

"Okay!" she said, climbing into the car, then stopped, and looked back at Grant. "Daddy? Are we okay now?"

Grant gave her a warm smile.

"We are. But we'll still have to tell mommy about this."

Haylie wrinkled her nose.

"Ouch!"

"Ouch indeed."