“This isn’t gonna work,” Agent Wendell Moose said after a moment.  “Forgive the disrespect, but I’ve got to say it; I watched your father run things, and I watched your brother run things, and they ran things very differently.  I thought you’d just have your own style, but you’re fuckin’ clueless.”

 

“I know I am,” Gavin said miserably.  “What the hell am I doing wrong?  I’m smart, I went to college… I was a Poli Sci major and then I went to law school… and I can’t figure out which end is up.”

 

“Well, your first mistake was majoring in Political Science.  Mistake number two was when you decided that just because you’ve seen a couple of James Bond movies meant you could run the organization.”

 

“I watched my *father* run it, and my brother.  I was trained to be ready if something had happened to Garrett,” Gavin tried to defend himself.

 

“What happened to that training?  Fall outta your head when you went to Law School?”

 

“Probably.  They didn’t discuss this much when I was studying Latin.”

 

“Sir, you’ve gotta find something that’s going to work for you, or…I think we’ll be seeing a shift in powers real soon, if you know what I mean.  The IMF isn’t going to stay docile forever.”

 

“I don’t think they’ll stay docile for very long at all.”  Gavin sighed, getting to his feet.  “I have no idea what I’m doing!  I *knew* he shouldn’t have asked me to do this… but just ‘cause my last name is Spencer my brother thinks I know how to do his job.”

 

“Did you ever consider you might have been adopted?”

 

Gavin shot the man a glare. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“How was work?” Grace asked him when she heard the door close behind him.

 

“Trust me, I suck at this.”

 

Grace sighed.  “Then why don’t you get someone who knows what they’re doing to take over?” She was no longer as upset as she had been at first…but she still wasn’t happy with the situation.  “Then maybe…I don’t know…we could try and put it behind us, seeing as how I don’t imagine we’re leaving anytime soon.”

 

“Grace, do you think I *want* to do this?  Apparently from the second they put the last name Spencer on the stupid baby ID bracelet you’re supposed to know how to run this stupid… whatever the hell it is!  I don’t even know what my job consists of anymore.  Am I a mob boss or a terrorist or what?”  He sighed, sitting down.  “The kindest agent I met today asked if I was adopted, and the insults have ranged from ‘dumb fuck’ to one kind soul’s saying that I was the spineless illegitimate child of my mother and the milkman.”

Grace sat down next to him.  “You’re not like the rest of them.  Running your family’s terrorist mafia was never what you wanted to do.  It’s not your fault that while Garrett was training to take over, you were working hard in Law School because you wanted something better.”

 

“If I don’t figure it out fast we’re all in trouble.  We’re gonna be targets and there’s no one else to ask for help now.”

 

“What about Cassidy?  She must know a lot about it…she’s not the kind of woman who’ll be happy tending her husband’s social calendar.”

 

“That’s what she was doing before… when Dad died… I don’t know.  But it’s so simple…”  He paused, remembering.  “She got a mob of agents under control in nothing flat after they stormed the office.  They just… listen.  They respect her.  She should be running it.”

 

“But she’s not…you are.”

 

“I’ll talk to her.”  Gavin kissed her.  “Thank you, beautiful.  You’re smarter than me, too.”

 

“No I’m not…sometimes it just helps to have someone who’s not completely involved to show you another view of what you’re looking at.” She replied, moving into his lap.

 

He wrapped his arms around her.  “I’ll talk to Cassidy in the morning.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

“What news do you have to report?” Dylan practically barked into the phone.

 

“Things are going just like we expected.  Gavin Spencer can’t tie his own fuckin’ shoelaces.”

 

“Very good.  Keep watching.  Anything else?”

 

“I’m planning to keep a closer eye on the royal family… going to try to get close to the oldest daughter.”  The spy smiled a bit at the thought of Ivy Spencer.  Definitely a good mission.

 

“If we succeed, and I get the organization, the girl is all yours.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Gavin walked up the stairs and found Cassidy reading a book in the library.  “Cassidy? Can I talk to you?”

 

“Yeah.”  She slipped the bookmark into the book before she closed it.  “I never really read much… there were always other things to do,” she said by way of explanation.  “Have a seat.”

 

Gavin sat in a chair opposite hers.  “I need help.”

 

“Yeah… I’ve heard you called everything from Agent Shithead to… well you don’t need to know about that one.”

 

“No, tell me.”

 

“Let’s just say it questioned your parentage, your gender, *and* your sexual habits all in one swift motion.  Not to mention it involved tuna fish.”

 

“Wonderful.” Gavin sighed.  “Cassidy…I really have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to be doing down there.”

 

“What, with the fish?”

 

“No, with the organization.  But thank you for that wonderful mental image.”

 

“Ah-hah, so you *do* know what to do with the fish.”

 

“Cassidy.” Gavin said firmly.  “Everything you’ve said so far makes me wonder what you’ve been thinking about lately.”

 

Suddenly, for no explicable reason, she started to cry.  “I miss him...”

 

This sudden burst of emotion caught Gavin completely off guard.  “Uh…yeah…so do I…”

 

“It’s not fair…”

 

“I know it’s not…”

 

“And every time I look at the kids, it’s worse… watching them… especially Garrett, he looks just like his father…”

 

“It’ll get easier…just give it some time…”

 

“I’m sorry, you came here for something.”  She started wiping away the tears as best she could.  “What can I help you with?”

 

“I need your help.  I have no clue what I’m supposed to be doing with the organization.”

 

“You can’t… you can’t ask that of me.”

 

“Please, Cassidy.  Garrett needs something to run when it’s time for him to take over, and the way things are going now…that doesn’t look too likely if things don’t change.”

 

“I can’t… it’s Garrett’s, it was my husband’s, I can’t do it… Besides, no one would answer to me.  I’m just his widow.”

 

“No one has to know…I just need you to tell me what to do.”

 

“The other agents can help you, the group that Garrett trusted so much, they’ll help you get started…”

 

“One guy named Wendell Moose is the only agent who’ll even talk to me, nevermind take orders from me.”

 

“Moose?  He’s a good guy.  Smart.  He’ll help…”  Cassidy trailed off.  She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t be surrounded by Garrett’s work.

 

“Please, Cassidy…the guy asked me if I was adopted.  I need your help.”

 

“I can’t…”  Cassidy cried.  “I can’t be surrounded by him…”

 

“Cassidy, you’re the only one I can think of who would have a solid grasp of the organization.  I can’t do this by myself.”

 

She shook her head no, but she knew that if it came to giving the orders or letting things fall apart, she’d be barking orders at Gavin in seconds.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“What’s going on over there?” Dylan demanded.

 

“Something really weird… things are getting back to normal.”

 

“What the fuck do you mean, getting back to normal? Spencer’s the most incompetent shit ever, how could things be getting back to normal?”

 

“I’ve got no idea… but they are.  They’re repairing some of the damage… even some of the stuff we did when we were trying to take care of the other Spencer.”

 

“How the fuck is he doing that?  Blowing the widow for some help?”

 

“Probably.  There’s a pretty nasty story about Spencer and tuna fish going around at the moment…”

 

Dylan shook his head.  “Spare me the details.  What are you going to do about this?”

 

“I’m getting close to the girl.  Think another family tragedy’ll shake things up a bit?”

 

“You going out with her tonight?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Make sure she doesn’t go home.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

“You can go out when I’m done talking to him, Ivy,” Cassidy said firmly as the door opened and Eric Strunk entered.  “Have a seat, Eric, Ivy’s just finishing getting ready.”

 

“Thank you ma’am.” He took a seat.

 

“So, tell me a little about yourself.”

 

“Well…What would you like to know, Mrs. Spencer?”

 

“I didn’t have time for a background check, so why don’t you tell me when you started with the organization and what you were up to before that?”

 

“I started working here about a year ago.   Before that, I was planning on becoming a police officer.”

 

“And what made you change your mind about that??”

 

“Well…our law enforcement system is rather corrupt, and I didn’t want to be doing anything illegal.”

 

And yet he’d chosen to work for a terrorist organization… “I see.”  And then she noticed the scar from a fairly fresh wound.  “Oh, you hurt yourself, what happened?”

 

“It’s nothing…just from my tracker.” He said, covering up the scar.

 

She knew it was a tracker scar – she had one of her own – but she also knew other things.  That if he’d been there a year, it wouldn’t be a fresh scar, and that there hadn’t been any done recently.  Further, the organization didn’t place trackers somewhere visible on a daily basis.  So he had a tracker.  And it wasn’t theirs. 

 

About thirty seconds later, Eric was running, fleeing for his life as Cassidy followed him as far as the door and fired three shots – two went to the head and the third straight through his middle.  She closed the door behind her and went to clean her gun.

 

“Mom?? Where’s Eric?” Ivy ran down the stairs and saw the empty living room.

 

“Dead in the front yard,” Cassidy replied casually.

 

“Why do you always shoot my boyfriend? You’re just like dad!”

 

“Your father gave the last one a head start, as I recall.”  Cassidy grew solemn, fighting back the memories of Garrett.  “He was IMF, Ivy.  You wouldn’t have come home tonight.”

 

Ivy shut her mouth.  “Well that sucks.”

 

“Yeah.  It would have sucked worse if I’d let you go out.  Be careful, Ivy.”

 

“Thanks, Mom…but next time, tell me before you decide to kill my dates? How am I supposed to get married if you kill every guy that comes within five feet of me?”

 

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