Hey, so after some thought and PMs, I decided to continue this story a bit further. Sorry for the delay!

I had talked to Debbie – those persuasive speech skills were really useful. She had agreed to help me, and now I was on my way to meet him. Alone thinking about that made me happy. "Oh, excuse me," I said as I accidentally bumped into someone. Dang it! I stopped thinking about him. Or rather, tried to. It was impossible, but I managed to notice the world around me too.

Debbie had made a big deal over accidentally tripping me down the stairs, and then I told Ms. Short about a doctor I knew in London – he really worked for the CIA and I knew him well, so he told her that I had to rest a lot and not be disturbed as much as possible. So while the others were travelling across London, I had snuck out, and was now entering the building of the CIA-MI6-Cooperative Program. I gave my name, voice sample, DNA sample, eye scan, and body scan, and entered. He was already there, though Joe Solomon was nowhere to be seen. I was a little relieved – I could trust Matt. He really was from the CIA, or he wouldn't have gotten in. "Hello Rachel," he smiled and shook my hand.

"Matt," I smiled back. "How's your day been?"

I've been gaining my memory… Bit by bit." I smiled – I knew the feeling.

"Let's go?" he asked.

"Where's Joe Solomon?"

"He's actually visiting a friend over there," he pointed at a door. "We can go say hello if you don't trust him. I wouldn't."

I half-laughed, but walked towards the door, and knocked. It was opened by a man unknown to be, but that wasn't a surprise. "Excuse me, I'm Rachel Cameron. I just wanted to say hello to Joe Solomon, I was told that he was here."

"Oh, the infamous Rachel Cameron."

"Infamous?"

"Aren't you the one that sweet-talked the director of INTERPOL to give you the guide to London?"

"Ah yes. Though I am surprised that he mentioned me to you Mr…?"

"Holmgren."

"Mr. Holmgren, nice to meet you."

"Hey Rachel!" Joe smiled and stood up from where he was sitting. Like always, he seemed to be tense, silent, but polite and very occasionally – like now – relaxed. I wondered what he had seen. Because I knew that he might be about my age, but that he was living in something. Maybe an ongoing mission. I knew from experience that that had a person pretty tensed up. Maybe he was being hunted. I just knew that he was a good spy.

"Hey Joe," I said before closing the door. "Okay, let's find the contact person."

"Already found her," Matt said.

"Eleonora?" I asked, but I was completely sure that this was my old classmate. Petite, with big grey eyes and an upturned nose, Nora always seemed to be a little childish. But she was also incredibly smart, and I knew that she had done a lot of field work already, but after a big finale involving a missile, fifty Russian spies and a smiley sticker, she decided to stay in an office for awhile.

"Hey Rachel! I've missed you."

"I've missed you too. When I heard the new about that mission you went on – goodness I wished you would come back so that I could kill you!" She laughed and we hugged. She knew not to take my death threats seriously. All other threats, of course. But not death threats.

"Come on, let's get you connected to the director of the CIA."

"Thanks so much," I smiled at my sister.

"Ms. Cameron," the director's face appeared on a huge screen.

"I see you went with the small size," I looked at Eleonora. Then I looked at a camera which was positioned right in-between his eyes, so that there was a sense of talking to him. "Hello sir. I think I have some news about my… memory loss."

"Oh that is so great!"

"Let me introduce – or re-introduce – Matt Morgan."

"Hello sir. It's a please to meet – well , see you."

"Mr. Morgan. What… oh my goodness!" the director suddenly yelled. "You're kidding right?"

Matt and I both tried not to smile or laugh, but we failed. Matt composed himself. "I saw Rachel walking on the street, and I started re-gaining my memory. I think that if we work together, we can work out all the details, sir."

I gave my report too, trying to distract form the fact that the CIA had lost it's grip just a little bit, "I saw his reflection, and my memory came back too. I think there was a bit of a confusion with the FBI."

"I was supposed to b sent on a different mission, it was a bit of a fast decision. Maybe there should be a call made about the matter – they seem to be a little messy," Matt added to my reassurance of the director.

"Enough! I will deal with this problem. The point is, I need both of you and Joe Solomon back now. And you will tell me what you regained of your memory now."

This time, I started. "I remember I was in a building. It had rows of metal shelves, lots of them. I was holding on to the disk. He shot me twice." Mass shot me an apologetic look, and the director was taking notes. "But I still had the disk. I kicked one guy, but the other one threw me onto Matt. I jumped up and hid the disk. When one of the other guys held a gun to me head, I put all my hope into the fact that I had a feeling that the two guys weren't on Matt's side, and pointed at him, whimpering. Then I grabbed the disk, jumped on the shelves, and started to run. He followed me, and I knew that I'd have to fight him off, but then the shelf was knocked over, and we flew through the window, the disk in my hand."

The director smiled. "That's impressive. Then again, I'm always impressed with you Gallagher girls. By the way, is your head feeling any better?"

"Yes sir, it is."

"I'm glad to hear that. Mr. Morgan, your turn."

"Well… my memory starts at about the same point. I shot Rachel, twice, and then I saw her fighting, and she fell on me. She hid the disk – I saw that – and then told them I had it. One tried to tie her up, but she took him out."

His explanations went on, and then the questions came. I tried to remember as many details as possible to the point where I had a migraine. Then I excused myself, but before I left, Matt and I were alone for a few minutes in the room with the big screen. It was off, but Nora had to take care of something for a moment, so we were left alone. His hand traced over my scars again, and this time, electricity jolted through my entire body. I stopped breathing, and his hand, moving down, lingered on my neck. Slowly, carefully, as if trying not to scare a kitten, his face moved closer to mine. I mirrored the movement. The suspense was almost painful.

But then our lips met, and his were so soft but strong at the same time. His hands, holding my face moved back into my hair. I couldn't top kissing him. Even though it was fierce, it was still shy. Our movements were careful. We were trying not to hurt each other, or make ourselves vulnerable. It was a feeling of total understanding. It felt as if you finished a mission, or as if you put the last puzzle piece I its place to realize it fit perfectly.

We both pulled back at the same time, breathing in, looking at each other, and then averting our eyes. We had met four times – not counting the mission that started it all. And yet it was as if I had known him forever – we were alone in the world. His hands pulled me closer again, and I was sitting in his lap. He kissed me again, gentler, lovelier, and yet still so full of love and passion.

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