DAY ONE - PROMPT: BEGINNINGS

NOTE: In December 2014, I came across a wonderful fanvid on youtube, called 'Grant Ward is the specialist', by Summer Day, which portrayed Ward in classic James Bond style with Skye as his Moneypenny. This was the inspiration for my series 'This Spy for Hire', where Grant is a freelance espionage agent with Skye as his hacker-partner - which is going to show up again this week!

While the episode 'Ragtag' gives us a timeline for Grant meeting Garrett, and his being admitted to SHIELD Academy, the dates are still iffy - this fic presumes that S1 and at least the first part of S2 takes place in 2014, with Skye being 25 that year. I'm also going on Operations being a three-year course at SHIELD Academy, with the initial SHIELD contract being for three years.

A Trail of pebbles to find your way home (This Spy for Hire: prologue)

Once upon a time in Wyoming, a little girl wandered away from her camping group and got lost in the woods, where she found an even more lost boy...

1999

Mary Sue tripped over another tree root, and this time she was too tired to catch her balance. She fell into a heap on the ground, and burst out sobbing because there was no one around to hear her cry.

She'd been so happy to come on this camping trip; Sister Mackenna had even argued with Sister Constance for her – Sister Constance had said that only junior high and above kids should come on the trip. Now she was going to get into so much trouble!

Mary Sue knew that she had a certain reputation, for pranks and 'born to raise Hell, that one – sigh', and if she was being really truthful it wasn't exactly unfair. But she didn't do stupid stuff, and running away into the woods was really stupid. She'd just wanted to find the stream she could hear splashing, so she knew where to go for the water tomorrow morning. So that big dumb jerk Colby wouldn't laugh at her again.

But she'd lost the path when the moon went behind a cloud and didn't come out again, and it felt like she'd been walking for hours, and her feet were really sore and her legs felt heavy and she was really scared! Mary Sue wasn't scared of anything (except maybe the boogeyman), but she was scared now, and she really really wished that Sister Cecelia hadn't read them all the story of Hansel and Gretel last week.

Mary Sue was sobbing so hard that she didn't hear soft footfalls on the leaves around her, and she was so weary that when she felt the soft, rough touch on her cheek she didn't scream, she just turned and blinked in vague surprise.

"Um, hello?"

The big dark dog woofed gently back at her, and wagged his tail enthusiastically. Then he sat on his haunches, threw back his head, and let out several short, sharp barks.

Mary Sue pushed herself up into a sitting position, setting off a rustle of leaves that hid the approach of someone who'd learned how to keep themselves unnoticed even younger than she had.

"What did you find, Buddy?"

Mary Sue didn't scream at the tall figure looming out of the darkness. How could a bad person belong to a lovely dog like this?

When the man stopped next to Buddy, he looked even taller, but the moon finally came back and Mary Sue could see that he wasn't scary at all – he wasn't even very old. High school, maybe.

The hunter looked down at Buddy, who looked up at him and panted happily.

"Um, Buddy? This is not dinner."

"Of course I'm not dinner, I'm Mary Sue!" she told him indignantly.

The hunter chuckled, then looked surprised, like maybe he wasn't used to laughing. There were some other kids at Saint Agnes' like that.

"Well, Mary Sue, how did you get out here?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted, hastily scrubbing the tear-streaks from her face. "I was trying to find the creek, but the moon went away-" she scowled up at the moon in reproach and not a little hurt, hadn't she always considered it her best friend until now? "And I started walking and walking and then I tripped and Buddy found me."

The hunter crouched down, and Mary Sue almost blushed. He was really, really handsome – like a fairytale character! She nearly started looking around again in alarm, because if there was a handsome huntsman, where was the Big Bad Wolf? But Buddy didn't seem worried.

"Do you know where your family was camping, Mary Sue? I know most of the campsites around here, so if you remember a campsite number or a cabin name, I can probably take you home before your parents get too worried."

Mary Sue shook her head. "I don't have parents. I don't have a family. I came for the Saint Agnes camping trip, with Sister Mackenna and Sister Frances and Father Blackie."

"A group? Okay, there's only a couple of sites I know of that can handle groups... come to think of it, they're all a pretty long walk from here. You've come a long way, sweetheart."

Mary Sue blushed for real, this time.

"Too far to walk in the dark, I think," the huntsman looked thoughtful. "Look, would you be okay with coming back to my campsite with Buddy and me? I promise we'll take you back first thing in the morning – as soon as the sun's up, if you like. But you're tired and it's late, and no matter how well I know these woods it's still pretty easy to get lost in the dark."

Mary Sue looked at Buddy, who woofed encouragingly.

"Okay."

Mary Sue spent that night cuddled up with Buddy in Grant's tent, while he sat watch outside by the campfire. After a kind of strange (Mary Sue had no idea there were so many things to eat in the woods!) but yummy breakfast, Grant carried her piggyback-style, while Buddy scouted the way ahead.

Mary Sue spent the walk telling him all about Saint Agnes Home for Children. By the time they'd found the creek - and how she'd missed falling into it in the dark was a minor miracle in itself – Mary Sue knew that Grant didn't have any family either, or at least no family he wanted to be anywhere near... there were lots of kids at Saint Agnes like that, too.

Mary Sue made Grant put her down after they crossed the creek, though – she didn't want to look like a little kid in front of everyone.

It was kind of nice, though, the way everyone looked so glad to see her, and that she was alright.

Colby had laughed at her, and started to make a mean comment, but Grant had stepped up behind her. He didn't say anything, but Colby went pale as a sheet, and he never said a mean thing to her – or any of the little kids – ever again.

Sister Mackenna had really truly cried as she hugged Skye tightly, and showered all kinds of blessings on Grant's head, which made him shuffle his feet and blush. There was also a strange twist to his mouth that made Mary Sue think that maybe Grant had spent a lot of time praying to God with no answer.

Mary Sue was pretty sure that Father Blackie saw that, too – he kind of reminded her of a sparrow, sometimes, the way he sometimes tilted his head, and how even though everyone's eyes just passed over him, Father Blackie's own bright, quick eyes missed absolutely nothing.

Maybe that was why when Grant and Buddy came back to Saint Agnes with them, none of the staff ever pressed him for more details on why he'd run away from home and ended up living in the woods.

Mary Sue did, and Grant told her why he wanted to be just Grant Douglas from now on. She'd started to learn how to break into computers and make them give up all their secrets, so she could find her parents, and there were a few kids at Saint Agnes who knew how to break into offices and houses and find their secrets too. It took a more than a year, but between her growing skills with computers and the skills Grant learned from some of the shadier kids, they managed to erase nearly all traces of Grant Douglas Ward, especially pictures because she knew from that TV show that there were government agencies that could take a photo of a kid and show what he looked like as an adult.

Years later, right before Grant left Saint Agnes, Mary Sue let slip what she'd thought about him in the woods that night – and she never, ever forgot the peculiar, thoughtful look on Grant's face, when he replied that maybe the Big Bad Wolf had been and gone and never come back.

2000

Grant was on busboy duty in the dining hall, but he happened to look outside the window as he cleared some dishes.

Buddy was sitting beneath the big oak at the end of the driveway, silent and still while he gazed towards the gates and waited.

Grant grinned, and hurried through the rest of the tables so he could go join his dog – technically speaking, Buddy belonged to everyone, (it was why he was allowed to stay at Saint Agnes too) but everyone also knew he was Grant's dog first. But close on Grant's heels was Mary Sue, and Buddy always seemed to know when she was due back.

As he settled onto the grass next to Buddy, Grant couldn't help but frown sadly. The whole family thing hadn't worked out very well for him, but he knew how much Mary Sue longed for one, even if she was careful not to tell him so he didn't feel bad. Mary Sue had been away a whole three months with this foster family, and he'd started to hope that she wouldn't come back to Saint Agnes until the Twelfth Night party, when all the new families of kids who'd been here were invited to visit. He'd known Mary Sue just over a year, but this was her third family since they'd met. Saint Agnes had a fairly transient population, and Grant was familiar with the system – the nuns were really careful who they let kids go out to, and Sister Constance, in particular, had a real knack for knowing which kid would go best with which potential parents. A kid might be returned once or twice, but that asshole Colby was the only one Grant knew of who'd been returned three times... except for Mary Sue. She'd been in and out of various families since she started school – and she'd been here longer than anyone else.

Grant truly couldn't understand why; as far as he was concerned, Mary Sue Poots was one of the most awesome people on Earth. Yeah, he was biased, but he wasn't imagining things either – Mary Sue could even make Sister Lagori smile!

But Buddy was sitting up and barking, and Grant put aside his contemplations. The little Honda that someone had donated to Saint Agnes last year was coming up the drive, and he could see Sister Mackenna behind the wheel. Good thing he'd stashed that double chocolate chip ice cream right back on the top shelf of the cold room, where only he and Sister Cecelia could reach.

Another six months went by, and Grant was on the verge of turning eighteen. He knew that the nuns wouldn't kick him out or anything, but it was time to grow up and make his own way in the world. The home schooling the nuns had helped him with meant that 'Grant Douglas' was going to get a proper high school diploma, but what could he do with that?

Grant was thinking of going into the Army – he'd learn how to defend himself, and protect others. That was something he still longed to do. Skye – as she now insisted he call her – was nagging him to go into the Air Force instead, because he'd look better in dress whites than khaki, and everyone knew it was safer in the air than on the ground. Grant had to admit, he really liked the idea of learning to fly.

If he had spent the past two years anywhere but Saint Agnes, that was how the story would have continued. Air Force Captain Grant Douglas would have served with distinction in the Middle East, and been rewarded with an honorable discharge. After going to college on the GI Bill, he would eventually become a child psychologist. Skye would have been a bridesmaid at his wedding, and godmother-slash-'Aunt Skye' to all three of his children – and his second wife, after Grant became a widower due to a traffic accident caused by the Triskelion Collapse.

But he was at Saint Agnes, a place that several SHIELD agents had kept a close eye on over the years. On the day he received his official diploma in the mail, Sister Constance called him into her office, where a recruiter was waiting.

2009

Skye sighed in abject misery, and her fingers tapped out a nervous tattoo on the metal bench she sat upon. She'd been in jail for all of two hours, and she was already about to climb out of her skin. The very butch looking hooker on the other bench, who kept eyeing her like a roast chicken in the supermarket, didn't help.

Skye still couldn't believe that after all her adventures, all the scandalous hacks she'd pulled off, and all the precautions she'd taken - because she still didn't do stupid stuff! – she was in jail because someone she barely knew had been pulled over for smoking pot while driving.

Mark Smeaton was a fan of her hacking skills, and angling to join the same hacktivist group she'd helped found a year ago. He'd collected a scrapbook of sorts on her exploits, including printouts of forum discussions that no one with half a brain would consider anything but top secret. He'd also included a photo that he'd taken without her permission. Skye regularly sent out a virus into cyberspace specifically to track down and destroy any images of her, but Mark had printed out this photo before the online backup had even activated.

When Mark had been arrested, his laptop had been on the passenger seat, and the program he'd set up to hack into the Federal Reserve had still been running. His scrapbook had been taken into evidence, and when asked about it, the little weasel had spilled over in fanboy enthusiasm for her, including one of the coffee shops where she went on a regular basis. When she'd stopped by for her regular this morning, she'd been arrested on suspicion of cyber-crimes.

Skye heard ominous-sounding footsteps coming on the concrete floors, and looked up in anticipation.

A fluttering, nearly-blushing patrolwoman came into view first; given the stony face and bored demeanor she'd been sporting as she booked Skye in, Skye made her face blank, just in case.

Another few seconds, and Skye knew she'd been right to take the precaution – following the patrolwoman was the obvious cause of changed demeanor. The tall, dark-haired man wore a nondescript dark suit. However, the suit couldn't hide the fact he was so gorgeous he should come with several safety warnings; no wonder the hard-bitten patrolwoman was so flustered.

"Prisoner... Skye?" the Suit stated, more than asked. But the way he said her name – dripping derision in a 'You don't really think you're fooling anyone, do you?' sort of way – set her teeth on edge.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," she retorted.

The patrolman's attack of the blushing girlies drained away faster than Skye could crack a firewall, and she snapped, "Keep a civil tongue in your head around the Agent. He'll be handling your transport." She smirked, "Apparently you aren't as good as you think. A goverment agency that I won't name right now is taking over your case, on the grounds that they've got enough to put you in Guantanamo."

Skye decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and kept her face blank and her mouth firmly shut, through being handcuffed (usually, being restrained by a guy this hot would be much more fun), and frog-marched out of the station's side entrance into a blandly sinister black SUV.

"Unnamed government agency?" Skye asked once they'd been waved out through the security gate.

"CIA badge. It's one of the most common SHIELD covers. Specialists are not only encouraged, but expected to have off-the-books resources, and I made sure I had badges for several of the alphabets as part of that."

"Speaking of, how'd you get here so fast? Aren't you supposed to be overseas for at least a couple of months? I thought I was going to be stuck waiting for Miles to notice I was incommunicado and come looking."

"I was actually coming to find you anyway. I've been to Paris several times but I've never really seen it; I thought you might like to join me for a month or two as an actual visitor with maybe some random French destinations thrown in."

"Sounds like the best plan you've come up with since we framed Colby for the Midnight Chocolate Pudding Caper. But what about your job? I can't believe that SHIELD just lets specialists take off to roam Paris with infamous hackers – even if they are childhood friends."

"I quit SHIELD two weeks ago."

Skye's jaw dropped almost into her lap. She picked it up again with an effort, just enough to ask, "Dude. What. The. Hell?"

Grant's hands tightened on the wheel until his knuckles went white. "A month ago, I was wandering through the Hub – and no, I'm not telling you where that is. Since my initial contract was about to expire, I was there to get the required psych eval and legal advice for a renewal, as well as briefing for a proposed undercover mission – I would have been posing as a Russian attaché.

"Then I heard a voice, and – Jesus Christ, I nearly went into a Highlander-level flashback then and there. I managed to follow the sound and get a look, and... Skye, it was the Big Bad Wolf. The guy who broke me out of juvie and dumped me in the woods. His name is John Garrett, and he's a Level 8 SHIELD agent. I have no fucking idea why he did what he did with me, but that is not approved SHIELD recruitment tactics; whatever the reason, it wasn't good. But I don't have enough intel to even make a report to someone in HR. I had to get out before he realised I was a part of SHIELD, and easily accessible."

What Grant didn't say was that he'd connected two and two a long time ago – a SHIELD recruiter finding him at Saint Agnes, and Skye spending her whole childhood there. He'd visited her at a few of those placements, and even at the time, he could tell that some of those families had really liked Skye. The only reason for her not to be adopted, or at least permanently placed, meant that it was on purpose. SHIELD had been keeping an eye on Skye for a long time, and found him into the bargain. If John Garrett recognised Grant Douglas, and dug into his past... how long would it be until he found Skye?

With the benefit of espionage training, Grant recognised that Garrett had played him like a full string quartet, that day in juvie. Whatever the man had wanted with his fifteen year old self, it was for something seriously sketchy. If the man found out that SHIELD was interested in Skye, his Level 8 status made it almost impossible to prevent him from finding out why. Grant loved working for SHIELD, but his agency meant less than nothing compared to keeping the most precious person in the world safe.

"But what happens when your old buddies at SHIELD find out about you springing me from custody?" Skye asked curiously.

Grant nodded to the messenger bag at her feet. Skye dragged it onto her lap, unzipped it, and pulled out a laptop. A quick eyeball proved it to be the latest model.

"How fast can you hack into the police department and erase all records of your arrest, including the transfer order?"

Skye shoved the bag back to the floor, and opened the laptop. "I should be done by the time you get my regular order at Lucy's Diner to-go. I'm starving."

"Let's eat in – I have a business propositon for you."

Skye looked up at him, intrigued. "A business proposition?"

Grant nodded, and smiled. "SHIELD gave me a pretty specific skillset, and it's not going to do me a lot of good in the normal world."

"Oh, please," Skye scoffed. "Normal is just a setting on the washing machine."

Grant's smile turned into a grin. "I've decided to go freelance – I want the freedom to decide exactly what I do and who I benefit. I could really use a skilled hacker for backup – research for assignments, background checks on clients, occasionally hacking security systems. I should warn you, though, a lot of it might be of questionable legality."

"Doesn't scare me. Sounds interesting. But the work I'm doing now is important to me, Grant. I really feel like I'm helping people, by revealing things that are only kept secret because the 'powerful' don't want to be judged on their dirty work."

"You could keep doing the hacktivist stuff if you wanted, as long as you don't get yourself or me arrested for it."

"In that case... I'm already leaning towards 'yes'. Buy me lunch and tell me more."