A/N: I know ?? is not a very famous character in fanfiction stories, but I love him and I love the actor who portrays him. So I hope you read my story anyway, and enjoy it as well. Please just give it a try!

A/N: I never liked Adam Carter, so I'm pretending he's on leave or something...he will not be in here either at all or very briefly.

Zoë Reynolds sighed softly as she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She placed her hands behind her head for support, and slowly turned the chair left and right, like a rocking cradle. When heavy footsteps could be heard directly behind her, she shot up quickly and leaned over her desk as if she was working.

Looking up, Zoë met Danny's brown eyes, and she blushed. Brushing a lock of red hair from her face, she smiled and asked sweetly, "Can I help you, Danny?"

Danny grinned and shook his head, "No, I was just admiring the view."

Zoë rolled her eyes and sat up straighter, feeling safer knowing that it wasn't Harry catching her trying to nap on the job. She glanced over to where her boss's office was clearly visible and asked, "How's he been? I hear he's got a nasty cold."

Danny tried to smother a laugh and managed to keep his straight face as he said, "Really? You heard that have you?"

"I have…" she trailed off; she was too tired to joke about something so boring.

Danny sighed and pulled up a chair, he leaned forward, "I know, I'm bored too. Harry's been running about secretively, doing who knows what without informing us. I feel left out of the loop."

Zoë laughed softly, "Such a spy."

It was Danny who rolled his eyes this time, before sitting back in his chair and claimed, "I am. I'm Big Kahuna here at MI5."

She laughed again, a little bit more sincerely this time, as she scoffed and said, "Oh, really? Big Kahuna MI5 Agent, Danny Hunter?"

Danny made a face, "Long title though."

"You think?" Zoë questioned good naturedly. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her slender hands, ignoring the concerned look Danny was giving her.

Danny looked as if he was going to speak, but thought better against it, until he leaned forward again and asked, "Are you okay?"

Zoë nodded quickly, "Yes, I'm just tired is all. Wanker of a neighbor next door is always blaring his bloody music at the wrong times of night."

Danny puffed his chest out and asked in what he thought was a manly manner, "Should I, uh, take care of him for you?"

Danny grinned when she laughed and shook her head, but deflated somewhat when she stated, "Who'd be scared of loveable Danny Hunter?"

"Loads of people," he argued back, feigning a hurt look.

"Right…" she giggled, teasingly. She snapped back to attention when her boss came striding towards them quickly.

"Danny, Zoë, we have a new assignment. Danny, with Carter on leave, you're in charge. Understood? Gather Sam, we'll meet in," he glanced at his watch, "Five minutes. Don't be late," the last statement was directed at Danny before Harry gave them a curt nod and took off once again.

"Wow, seems like an important assignment," Zoë concluded, her eyes following her boss's slightly stocky frame as he took off. Her gaze settled on Danny's haughty expression. She did a slight double take and asked, "What?"

"I'm not late that often," he claimed, a slightly pouting look about his face.

Zoë shook her head and pushed her chair away from her desk, "Let's just get Sam, hey?"

"Fine," Danny muttered, pulling his chair away from hers and standing up in one fluid motion with the one word.

Five minutes later Zoë, Sam, Ruth and Harry found themselves seated around the same long wooden table they always found themselves around. When Harry stood up to begin briefing his agents, he realized Danny had yet to arrive. His eyebrows shot up as he shot Zoë a questioning look, as if to say "Was I not clear to him?"

Zoë shrugged and tried to hide a smile. The group didn't have to wait long before Danny showed up with a sheepish look directed at both Zoë and Harry. Zoë grinned and shook her head while Harry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he began speaking.

"Okay, now that we're all here I can begin," he looked up at Danny before strolling in towards the end of the table, nearest the images that were projected onto the wall. He pointed to a picture of a man in the top left hand corner, a young man.

"This man is Hakeem Tariq, a former MI5 translator. This man," now he was pointing to another picture, of a haggard looking man with more wrinkles on his face than teeth in his leering mouth, "Is Atash Alam, a well known armed-guns supplier."

As if on cue, Danny raised a hand as if he was in second grade and asked, "So, what happened that made these two suddenly so important?"

Harry turned to face him and answered gravely, "Hakeem and Atash were seen conversing together in quite a friendly manner, causing MI5 to naturally feel alert."

Zoë looked up from her file, that Harry had passed out previous to his brief, and asked quietly, "Why 'former?'"

Harry nodded, the key question he was looking for, and answered, "Sadly, Hakeem seemed to become severely influenced by the others he was supposed to be translating for and to. We had to let him go."

"Friendly friendly or just plain friendly?" asked Sam suddenly, her slightly confusing question raising some eyebrows. She looked around from where she was hunched over her file, her pen poised above the papers within.

Harry shook his head and asked patiently, "What do you mean, Sam?"

Sam blushed, "I mean was Hakeem a gay, or did he just become friends with the other men?"

"Oh," Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably and answered, "Hakeem was married with two kids prior to his joining MI5. However, like it seems to happen in our line of work, their relationship didn't survive. That's when Hakeem went downhill, beginning to communicate more and more with the enemy and less with us."

Sam paused, "So that's no, he wasn't a gay?"

"Yes, sweetie," Ruth answered, a small smile on her face.

Sam gave her a beaming smile before hunching over her open file to jot down some more notes furiously. Harry shook his head again before continuing, his hand once more on the wall to point to a picture of the two men deep in conversation on a street corner. "We had reason to believe that this man, Atash, was trying to get Hakeem to join him and his unit of men he had gathered. They called themselves "doost al-Qaeda," technically they're trying to say, "Friends of al-Qaeda."

"But al-Qaeda is generally against the Americans, are they not?" asked Danny, his dark eyebrows furrowed.

"Not necessarily," Harry responded before continuing about the group, "All I know so far is that this group was just a small time group of wanna-be terrorists trying to become famous. They were easily disbanded with the help of Hakeem, who was able to translate phone calls between these men…allowing us to pinpoint who was doing what, when and where."

"Cool," Danny claimed, before jotting some notes of his on within his open folder splayed in front of him.

"Was there a credible reason as to why MI5 felt that Hakeem was no longer needed here?" Zoë asked casually, her hazel eyes boring into Harry's nearly matching ones with a questionably tense air.

"We had proof, Zoë," he stated bluntly, his eyes never leaving hers. He felt compelled to let her know that they did not let people go without proof, but that was an argument for another day.

"Such as?" thankfully it was Danny who asked, sending a relieved feeling through Zoë's tense form.

"Pictures, taped conversations…a lengthy confession on Hakeem's part. That good enough?" Harry snapped, his face becoming slightly pink from an oncoming anger storm. Danny looked at Zoë and back at Harry confused.

"S'fine, Harry, thanks." He muttered, jotting down the notes he felt needed.

Harry took a calming breath, "We had proof, we decommissioned him as we felt appropriate. His name has recently been popping up all around terrorists cells within our own country; 'a man on a mission against those who've wronged him' is what they say about our old friend Hakeem."

"Against us?" Sam asked incredulously, as if the thought was unfathomable.

Harry gave her a grim nod, "It comes down to this, all known terrorists' cells we know about are itching to get this man into their groups and use him against us. They want to destroy MI5, point blank."

"How refreshing," Danny muttered, his nose buried in his folder.

"Okay, dismissed for now." Harry turned towards the screen and waved his hand towards the door. They all stood to leave, and as they filed out Harry called out, "Ms. Reynolds? I'd like to talk to you in my office after the stake-out op."

Zoë brushed away a tendril of hair that kept falling in her eyes. She glanced over towards where she could see Danny reading a newspaper casually. She then turned slightly and caught the eye of Jacob, a younger man who recently joined MI5 via MI6.

"Zoë?" a voice called out in her ear.

"All clear," she whispered, relishing in the soft breeze that blew her hair back slightly as she looked out from where she stood on a sidewalk.

"All clear," Danny's voice could be heard in her ear as well, as he continued to look about from his bench.

Suddenly a man appeared around the slightly crowded corner, his head low and his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked up briefly and paused, his dark eyes meeting Zoë's hazel ones. He took one step back, glanced at Danny across the street and suddenly fled the way he came.

"Damn," cursed Zoë and Danny in unison as they tore after they're fleeing target. Zoë managed to catch a glimpse of Hakeem tearing around another corner into a dark alley. She went alone, Danny not far behind. Suddenly a pipe connected with her stomach as Hakeem step from a shadow and fled once again, dropping the pipe.

Zoë grunted in pain and grasped at her stomach. Danny caught up and asked breathlessly, "You okay?"

Zoë nodded, "Go!"

Danny cast one last look of worry in her direction before taking off after Hakeem. Zoë leaned against a grimy ally wall before she was startled by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see a hooded face peering down at her.

"Fuck off," she growled, her stomach in pain.

"Sorry, just wanted to make sure you were okay." Came the soft reply, too soft. Too caring. Too familiar. Zoë's eyes went wide as she tilted her head to try and look up at the face.

The tall, broad shouldered man took a step back and laughed gently, "I can't believe it. I can't fuckin' believe it…Zoë?"

Zoë shook her head, "This is not possible. I'm dreaming."

The scruffy looking man pulled back at his hood with gloved hands, fingers clearly poking through the worn material. With his slightly dirty face clearly revealed to Zoë, she couldn't help but think how handsome he still looked.

He laughed that sensual, soft laugh before repeating, "Zoë?"

The blue eyes twinkled in the slanted sunlight, capturing his tall handsome form in a perfect picturesque way. Zoë shrunk away and softly whispered, "Tom bloody Quinn."

TBC...

Please, please review. I know Tom is not "famous" in fanfiction circles (Ruth and Harry occupy all MI5 stories).

So please give him and I a try.