eighteen.

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A week had passed since the failed mission in Paris. It took a few days, but Olivia was finally in good enough shape to leave the Agency's room she was staying in. She was determined to plead her cause to the Agency and get her mission back. She had a perfect track record, and wasn't gonna let the incident in Paris come in the way. She needed to finish her mission, no matter what.

- You're up, Brad said when he arrived in the girl's room that morning.

She was struggling to zip her jeans up with her broken wrist, swearing at herself for not being able to heal faster. Her face was a lot less swollen, but now covered in dark purple bruises. Her left eyebrow had been stitched back together, as well as the open wound in her mouth. She had refused the morphine the Agency's docs offered her the last few days, and was starting to regret it. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in so much pain.

- How are you feeling?, Brad asked as he walked inside the room. Do you need help with that?

- No, Liv answered without hesitation.

She didn't need any help. She was a big girl who could handle herself. She had never needed anyone, and today was no different. She continued to struggle to slide the button in its hole under the BA agent's amused eyes.

- Fucking hell, she swore again, making Brad laugh. What's so funny?, she mocked Brad.

She hated not being at the top of her form. She felt fragile and powerless. And she truly hated feeling like that. Agent Simpson didn't answer, and instead walked to Olivia and stopped a couple of inches away from her, looking straight into her eyes.

- You know there's nothing wrong in asking for help, he said, an amused smile still on his lips.

- I don't need your-, she started to answer just as Brad took hold of the em of her jeans and buttoned her up, without breaking eye contact.

- There, he said as he removed his hands from her jeans. See? Wasn't so bad after all, he added with a blink before taking a step away from her.

The girl couldn't help the roll of her eyes. Things hadn't really changed between them since the kiss. None of them had talked about it since, pretending like it never even happened. And it was for the best according to Olivia. She knew she couldn't let herself get distracted, especially now that she had to plead for herself to get her mission back. She needed to stay focused if she wanted to be back on the field and finish her damn mission.

- I didn't need your help, she answered before grabbing her sweater from the bed, not even bothering to try and put it on.

- Like you didn't need my help in Paris, Brad said with an ironic laugh.

- Did you need something?, Liv asked annoyed, ignoring his comment.

The BA agent smiled at how easily he could pull her chords. Pissing her off was definitely one of his favourite activities.

- Thompson wants to see the team, he answered, making the girl sigh.

She knew exactly what the Head of the British Agency was going to tell them. She left the room, closely followed by Brad and was met by the boys in the hallway. The 'clinic' floor was located in the same building as the Agency, right in the center of London. The team made its way to Mrs Thomspon's office without a word. Once there, they sat in silence on the chairs in the waiting room, until they were told to come in. They all sat on the various chairs in front of the Head's desk in silence.

- Agent Miller, how are you feeling?, she asked without any greetings.

- Ready to go back on the field, Liv answered. Look, I know the mess in Paris is putting the mission in Jeopardy, but I know I can finish it. We can finish it. We just need to-, she continued before Mrs Thompson cut her off.

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