AN: To my best friend Lisa, who kept asking me if I updated. Happy Birthday!

CLAIMER: All rights reserved to Bookworm-At-Starbucks. Do not copy without Bookworm-At-Starbucks' written consent.

AN: Warning, introduction only so kind of boring.

Chapter One

Eight Years Later

"Yes Sir, I understand but seriously? Why now?"

In the office of a Headmaster Andrew Curtin, the early morning sunlight filed into the room. Dancing dust particles whirl in the air as the room's owner pace up and down in front of the dark ebony desk.

In was just nine in the morning and towards Andrew Curtin, it was possibly the worst morning. The clock had just stroked nine and he had already spilled coffee over his white blouse and had nearly suffered a heart attack from his phone and of course his heart did suffer an attack the minute he answered it.

"That is classified information, you know that Curtin. And for your other question, when am I never serious?" the voice on the phone receiver replied back to his earlier question. Of course, as a man who prides himself with sense, he didn't answer the rhetorical question even if the tone was sounded like it came from a care free man.

The man on the phone was Angus McKellar, head of all the secret agencies in the nation, both legal and illegal. No one messes with this guy without the fear of not waking up to see the bullet between the eyes. It was known that he had the CIA, Secret Service and even the president was in his back pocket not to mention the hundreds of international agencies.

"But Sir," he continued, "I'm not entirely sure that it is a good idea. I do not mean to insult you but, our facility is not that strong enough to fight against any major attacks that this project might cause. Compare to your home, I am well assure that this place seems to be a playground for hackers. I am not to certain that this plan will carry out smoothly like you wish."

Angus laughed through the phone causing him to grimace. Angus McKellar was a dangerous man whose sense of humour was a bit twisted.

"Curtin, you crack me up some times. You know that nothing in life goes smoothly in life,"

Andrew gave a nervous chuckle. A bad feeling was creeping up on him and he could feel its cold breath on the nape of his neck.

This is bad.

"Once, again, I will send the person over. Do not disappoint me Agent 122."

Before he could get a word out, the line went dead. It was the usual way that his former boss ends the call but the last word rang in his mind. The name that he hoped he wouldn't hear again rang through his ears.

Agent 12.

Heaving out a sigh, he walked around the oak desk and sat down on his headmaster chair and looked out the large floor to ceiling window that was behind his desk.

The sun danced on the school's pond water as the lush flowers bloomed around the pond covering every inch of land with colours of the rainbow, an innocent picture that he sometimes wished he was a part of. To be a part of the ordinary world, where he only had to worry about how to pay the bills or how his daughter is dating a punk. To be normal.

Agent 122.

But that was just a dream. Looking down at his forearm, he lifted his grey suit sleeves up to look down at the tattoo there. The intricate design was made up of swirls and that resemble two snakes dancing yet it was the picture of the ivy vine. The number in between them glared back at him as he stared at the number, reminding him of the unescapable past.


Unlike the people outside the window he was just a number and forever will be. 122, nothing more, nothing less.

Alexandra Huntsmen surveyed the room that she stood in. While the spy inside memorised the room's features, the inner girl screamed with joy as the dream of entering the school came true. Though it took a wanted felon who was after her neck to enter this school, Alex was – in a weird way – happy.

It was lifelong dreams to enter this prestigious school and it was a vow that she kept to herself from a young age and being raise to never quit the hunt, she had kept this dream alive. Now it was fulfilled.

Her eyes wander from bookshelves after bookshelves until it landed on the man in the middle of the room whose nervous eyes scanned her. The man was stood at six feet three and hard a rusty colour hair that seemed to bounce of the light in the room. He was clad in a grey business suit with an unfashionable yellow tie to match with the outfit. Behind his thick rimless classes, his blue eyes continued to assess her as if she was a piece of evidence to scan. Nervous energy radiated off him as he continued to survey her. The lines on his forehead began to form as he continued to study her.

Alex knew that she didn't look like the type that needed the protection that she was supposed to seek from these walls and she definitely didn't look like herself. Her usual thick coffee brown hair that grew to her waist was cut off to shoulder length where it was styled like a man. Her figure was draped with baggy clothes that had padding in it to fill out those places that adolesce boys have such as broad shoulders and – in this school only – pectoral muscles that all of them have. She simply wouldn't blend in if she did and being trained that camouflage is the one thing – well, besides awesome gun skills – that will save your life.

"Welcome to Watson Boy's Academy. I am Headmaster Curtin and you are?" the man said as he held out a hand towards her.

Alex shook his hand with a good grip which seemed to surprise the man. Did you think she was a shrinking violet? Well, she is here for protection, he probably thought she was emotional distraught or something.

"I am Agent 314 of Sector A in Class 1.5 of Sublevel 4," she answered in the emotionless voice that she had trained to perfect. It was the key to never show your emotions to the outsider whether ally or enemy.

She saw the man reeled back in shock. A smug smile threatened to curl on her lips. It's sometimes funny to watch how they reacted to her status, especially those who are new to the business or left it for too long to remember to hide their emotions.

"Yes, welcome Agent 314. I was told to expect you arrival today by Angus. Please take a seat," the man motion towards the small red armchair in front of the ebony oak desk.

Nodding, Alex walked over and sat down and waited for her future headmaster to start the conversation.

"Well, since you are to stay here until further notice, I would like to ask why you are here. Just for security portions, of course," he added it the last part a bit hastily as if he didn't want to pry.

"I am sent here by Angus for protection and for me to hide out for a while. It involves a wanted criminal who is classified," – She gave him a pointed look that meant she couldn't dwell in it, of which he response with a wave of his hand – "and she had found out my identity. I am now, according to Angus, under immediate threat and danger hence," she waved her hands around, "the reason why we are having this conversation."

The man – Headmaster Curtin, she mentally corrected herself he needs to start calling him that – nodded in total understanding. It was in their nature to accept as much information given. The more information you have, the more likely that you will crack. It was a wonder that Angus hadn't cracked yet.

"I see. Even though you never stepped foot into this establishment, I am pretty sure that you understand the curriculum here?" He waited for her to nod before continuing on. "Then you do know that we must keep the secret that you are a female from them," – she raised an eyebrow - "and I can see that you already thought of that well ahead of me. Even though you a special case, I do hope you know that you will be treated like the rest of the students even if you are pretty sure that you can actually give the lecture to the class yourself. Now should we notify the rest of the staff? The only people who know about this little thing" – he gestured her and him – "going on are you, me, Angus and you father I presume?"

She nod again, not bother to stop him. It was strange really, over the years, she was trained to be impassionate, cold and unmoving and here in front of her was a man who looked like he crazed nothing more than normalcy. It was also funny how he is treating her like a sixteen year old girl that she is, unlike most adults who worked with her. It was a refreshing change. Her father, a great man on the field, didn't treat her like a child but more of a friend or a buddy, not that she minded but it was nice.

Headmaster Curtin sighed then and leaned back against his lack swivel chair.

"Then I see that everything is done. You may leave to your dorm now."

Alex nodded and stood up. As she made her way towards the door, she was called back.

Turning around she watch as the man stood up and walked towards her.

"Ah, I forgot, what's your name here? I can't exactly let them know that you're Agent 314."

He chuckled at this but looked at her expectantly.

"I'm Alex. Alex Huntsmen."

He smiled at this, causing the lines around his eyes to crinkle up.

"We then, welcome to Watson Boy's Academy Alex, we hope your stay is pleasant."

With a small of acknowledgement, she turned and walked off, pushing past the double French doors and into the corridor.

As she walked down the corridor, a sense of something bubbled inside her. It wasn't adrenaline – that, she was familiar with – and it definitely wasn't nervousness. It was excitement, Alex realised.

It was plain and old excitement. Looking out one of the windows that lined the whole way down the corridor, it started from the ceiling and ended at the floor. The windows allowed in an immense amount of light and a good sniper point, her inner spy chimed in. Shaking it out of her head, she let the excitement take over which lead to that little smile that is stretching on her face.

For once she smiled for the sake of happiness and excitement then for the fact that she was luring in a criminal by smiling innocently. For once, she was here for herself and for, well, protection, but still, it was great to finally stop the act.

The garden outside the window reminded her of the home she once had and childhood she lost. The land was willed with spotted colours as the tulips bend towards the autumn breeze, petals fluttering under the sun's light rays. The large oak trees that grew behind them bared its brown branches as more of its orange and brown leaves flutter down to the ground, slowly and elegantly. The picture of happiness and warmth. But this time it didn't symbolised the lost she went through, it symbolised a new beginning here. And she was happy.

Welcome to Watson Boy's Academy.

James Goodrich raked a hand through his blond hair in frustration. God, he hated Sundays since it's always… sunny and cheerful. There was always something that went wrong on a Sunday and he can never get it right!

Raking his hair once again, he slammed the newspaper down on the coffee table and flopped down on the coach he was sitting on, blocking the sun's light out his eyes with his arm.

A few silent moment pass, he let his arm fall and turned his head to stare at the paper.

Damn crossword!

This is situation believe it or not, is not an irregular occurrence for him since every Sunday he would collect a copy of the paper in the front office, flip to the TV guide, write down a few notes to remember to watch a show and then flip to the crossword and just like every other Sunday, he will get frustrated that there is one word left on the list that he couldn't solve.

What use is there of a spy if he can't crack a code or, let alone the Sunday's paper crossword?

As James continued his staring competition with the newspaper, watching it like a hawk stalking its prey as the paper flutter from the light breeze the window let in, the dorm banged open.

Looking up from his losing fight, he turned to glare at his best friend, Greg Dalton as he stormed into the dorm room.

"Still trying to finish the crossword?" Greg asked as he crossed the room to sit on James' bed. Greg Dalton was a tall muscular boy that would be considered attractive and a player if there was a female population around to admire him. Light brown shoulder length hair, it is tied at the back of his neck and bright blue eyes to match. Apparently to the female population, this look reminded them of a 'dark lord trapped in his castle with a dark and dangerous past'. Those words were not spoken by him, of course, but by his cousin Eloise who caused him crack up the whole afternoon.

The female mind, James decided, was a dangerous and a vast place.

To him, his friend will forever look like that kid at the sandpit picking up caterpillars with him to fling over the wall, hoping it will hit a girl.

"Still entering without knocking?" he asked back as he sat up from the couch.

It was the same conversation every week. Greg would ask about the crossword and he would ask when he would learn to ever knock. But something in the air this morning wasn't right.

"Hey, I heard from someone you're getting a new roommate," Greg said as he went to his kitchenette and grabbed two sodas from the fridge then tossing it over in with perfect arc in the air. But then it was spoilt when it landed on James' head.

"Dude! That hurt like hell!" He exclaimed holding his head in his hands as he watched the aluminium can rolled off the couch and onto the floor. Rubbing his head he picked it up and began tapping it on the sides with a fury that should be scared of.

He wasn't that dumb enough to let the can spray him in the face this early in the morning. He was still cursing at the wound when his mind finally registered what Greg said early.

"What? Again? What happened to the last guy?"

"He moved to another dorm."


"Apparently, he found your 'violent tendencies' on Sunday mornings upsetting."

"Why do they always find that weird?" he muttered as he pooped the lid open. "It's not like I have a sock collection or something as stupid as that. I just do the Sunday paper's crossword."

"Yeah, you do but then you rage and have a fight with the paper when you can't complete it," Greg pointed out as he leaned against the wall, casually taking a sip. "Oh and I forgot, your hatred for your alarm clock every morning."

With that Greg took a sip of his soda then gestured at the object on James' night stand.

It was a red alarm clock or it was since the red pain was peeling off. It stood a bit limp on the side as the bottom left corner was dented from the experience of being flung to the wall. Small, square and battered it stood as if it was a warrior after a fight, which was indeed what you call here in the morning with him. James' was never the morning person and apparently his alarm clock was. The clash between the personalities just seems to bring out the rivalry in them.

"So, it's not my fault it doesn't shut up. If it was like normal alarm clocks, it would call me up at the correct time, not six in the damn morning!" ending his statement, to took a sip of his soda.

Throwing his empty can in the bin, Greg turned to give James a dubious look which was answered a huff of frustration and the sound of the couch springs squeaking under James' weight.

Greg got to admit, that couch is comfy. It was one of those flush olds that never seems to fit into the interior of the room but is too comfy to throw out. A rusty colour, the piece of furniture looked like it seen better days and it had seen more exotic places then the inside of James' dorm room.

"Okay, enough about my problems. Tell me more about this guy, since you have been actually outside and listening this morning," James' voice rang out, breaking Greg out of his thoughts about the couch. Would it look good in his room? Would James' even let him carry it –


A loud and sudden noise burst through his ear drums causing him to leap about a foot up into the air away and drawing out his emergency taser and pointing it directly in between of James' eyes as he stared back with one eyebrow raised.

"Put that thing down, and answer me."

Putting it away, Greg let out a breath of relief then turned to his friend and punched him on the arm. Hard.

"Don't ever do that again! I swear you're lucky I hesitate otherwise you'll be on the floor writhing like a fish!"

This however, didn't seem to upset James since he continued to laugh, an infectious laugh really, making Greg to laugh as well. He knew he always fell for the same trick every time and for some reason this never seem to stop

As they continued to laugh about nothing in particular or the fact that James will get taser one day, they didn't seemed to notice the future tase-er staring at them and leaning against the door, watching in amusement as the boys were doubling over the couch, laughing like there was no tomorrow.

He also didn't notice those emerald green eyes softening up a bit as they landed on him, the taser-ee and he definitely didn't notice the smile on the person's lips.

And he didn't know that this person was someone who was going to change his life; past, present and future, because Alexandra Huntsmen was back and she missed her little 'Jamey'.

"What's so funny?" she asked out loud, causing the boys to stop laughing and whipped around to stare at her.

Well, this was the first time to gain that much male attention. This is going to be a wild year and Alex loved it. Besides, she wouldn't be a spy if she didn't love the adventure.

AN: Just so you know, the boy is James and the girl is Alex. Sorry if I spoiled it or something but I didn't want any confusion with the principal being the boy. That would be kind of gross. Oh and should he recognise her? Please answer. Vote also on my page. Sorry I forgot to proof read so if there is anything that doesn't make sense, I'm sorry.

Please review and welcome to my little world.