xxx. drunk agents

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xxx. DRUNK AGENTS

I never thought I'd live to see the day where Ace Banana Bread Blackwell would get drunk.

But here he was, eyes glassy and words slurring together after three more shots of absinthe. That much concentrated alcohol should have killed another human being. Thank god for the power of absinthe.

Xavier and Chase all became severely inebriated after one shot. I took a sip of my shot to show the sober Skye that I did. As of right now, we were all dancing in a circle in the middle of the floor like children. I won't lie; the way my team members are all dancing together is kinda adorable.

"Why didn't you finish your drink?" Skye asks. 

"It takes awful Antar, and to be honest I just wanted to see Ace drunk." I fake a hicup to show that I was a little affected. Skye chuckles. 

But in all the booze, I couldn't help but feel a little guilt. After all, I was using alcohol as a way of inhibiting my teammates so that I would be able to steal the USB from the CIA.

"What type of cheesecake is your favorite, Xavier?" Skye asks, her eyes wide with curiosity.

By now, all of us had one time or another caught the assassin stuffing cheesecake into his mouth in the middle of the night. I was sure no one else would remember this important conversation tomorrow, but I'd savor it.

"It's the Philly classic," Xavier states with a serious tone. "Perfect combination of tartness and sweetness."

"Ace," Chase slurs. "This pains me to say, but you're not that shit awful for law enforcement."

I grab Chase with one hand and Ace in the other, then pull them into a giant hug. Guys never expressed their emotions—being drunk was a perfect time for bonding.

"Thanks Kingsley," he responds. "You guys aren't that bad for criminals either."

Pretty soon, Ace beings to chuckle uncontrollably. There was a solid span of about ten minutes when every syllable of what he said was interrupted by a gasp for air.

He began to cry. Like not just a single tear, but straight up crying like after seeing the end of A Walk to Remember.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"It's just... I want to try all the food in the world... But I don't think I can..."

Skye and I look between each other, grinning. I might have gotten my teammates too drunk. While comforting Chase, Ace tripped on his own foot and nearly crushed me under his weight.

Chase then tried to hit on two girls...who were twins.

Xavier stumbled around to the taco store next door and came back with three trays of nachos.

I felt like a single mother duck trying to cross the highway with all her baby ducklings.

(Shout out to all the single mothers out there)

After thirty stressful minutes, I was finally able to gather everyone to sit around a single booth. Chase, Xavier, and Ace had completely passed out on me; I definitely did not think this plan through.

Ace was still barely hanging on to consciousness. He grasped onto me, not letting go. I couldn't even pry his vice-like grip around my waist. His breath is hot against my neck.

"You're wearing the dress that I like," he smirks.

I didn't realize it until Ace brought it up, but the outfit I wore was the same red cocktail dress I wore when taking the agent test.

"I didn't even notice," I murmur.

The nachos Xavier have smell good. As I go to take one, his unconscious hand swats my hand away.

"Don't touch my fucking food," he hisses.

"Damn. I'm going to feel this tomorrow," Chase groans.

The groan sounds like a cross between a lion contracting malaria and a pterodactyl getting run over by a train.

Chase's inhumane groan shook me from my thoughts. I needed to make sure my teammates got home safe so I can go steal, or rather, borrow, the USB. Skye and I nod at each other. These three guys were becoming too much to take care of. 

"Alright guys," I say while pulling Ace up. "It's time to go home."

~

It is a lot harder to get three deadly grown men in one cab than you think. By the time we get back to the penthouse, it's already 2AM and I've already exhausted most of my energy. 

I steal some of Xavier's nachos for energy after I dump him in his room. He instinctively pulls a knife on me when I try to pull him up. Ace is being too difficult, and by this time I'm fucking tired, so I just dump him on the couch.

Skye helps me move Chase into his room which consists of many Arctic Monkeys posters. There's also all the volumes of Harry Potter

"Goodnight Skye," I yawn. "The drink is really starting to affect me."

She waves goodnight to me. I enter my room and hear the lights turn off. 

"Alright Octavia," I state with determination, "let's get down to business."

To defeat... the huns....

"Christ. Stop singing Mulan in your head... And stop talking to yourself."

My fingers fly past the keys on my computer to first set up a local ip address on the tracker implemented in my neck. I was determined to permanently disable it someday just to spite Ace and prove that I'm the better cryptographer.

Alright, step two.

I change into a professional outfit. Luckily for me, the majority of security precautions at headquarters were set up by technology as opposed to humans. Humans are corruptible; technology is not.

At least, not for normal people. A small, satisfied smile tugs on my lips.

My plan had been set in motion for a week now. Ever since we got back from Paris, I'd been learning every nook and cranny about the security precautions in preparation. The USB was stored in the agency's technology unit.

I take out the sleek, black case Thirteen gave me the night of the gala. It contained a fake ID, a replica of the USB to replace the real one with, and a burner phone. Thirteen is not someone I trusted—but he needed me alive to find his Queen or whatever.

Perhaps foolishly, I decide to put on a blonde wig that I found in the penthouse. This way I'd look like the woman in the fake ID. My computer, a stun gun, and the case Thirteen gave me are stuffed into my briefcase. I leave the penthouse for the New York headquarters.

At this hour of night, there is barely anyone on the streets, except in the area around the agency. My eyes scan the area around the daunting skyscraper. Every once in a while, a person wearing business suits would weave in and out of the building.

Was this the right thing to do?

No. But this is the only thing I can do.

A creeping sense of uncertainty spread in my mind. I was betraying the trust of the CIA, the trust of my teammates, and the trust of Ace. But if anyone could protect my family and stop Thirteen for good, it would be someone in my position. After all, you've only got one mama. 

The cold, brisk air fills my lungs one last time as I take a deep breath.

Then I push open the glass doors of the agency. 

Octavia: "Vote for emotional support as I try not to fuck up."

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