[ON HIATUS] AMAZING GRACE // MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

ETHAN'S GRACE

Spoilers ahead. Go watch the movie.

The Interim

Any request that started with the declaration "I need a favor" was definitely a choice one shouldn't accept.

Any request made by Ethan Hunt that started with the declaration "I need a favor" was a choice that meant certain death or vocational suicide.

William Brandt lowered his cell phone from his ear and slipped it into the pocket of his sleek gray jacket, a heavy exhale seeping from his broad frame.

Wrapping his long, knobby fingers around the handle of his coffee mug, the exhausted former analyst ducked his head and drew a long, desperate gulp of the tepid black liquid.

Who the hell was Grace?

//
// THE HAIR SALON
// VIRGINIA
// DEEP COVER IMF
//

Clandestine Services Officer Jasper Briggs escorted Grace into a pristine white box that looked more like a dentist office than a top secret interview room.

"Sit down." He gestured gruffly to a chair that had been staged in front of a table.

It looked like the sort of setup that a person in Grace's shoes would be handcuffed to.

She cast a wary glance from him
To the table. "What's going to happen?" The extraction from the train, the flight to Virginia, the armored vehicle ride to the office building—all had been journeyed under the silent supervision of the man who had been chasing Ethan since the airport in Abhu Dhabi.

Briggs let his hooded gaze meet hers for a second before he huffed and ran a hand through his seemingly permanently windswept hair. "Basic new job crap. Someone's on their way to run you through some onboarding. Sit down."

She found herself finally able to let out a breath of relief—barely. Gimping on sore feet over to the table, Grace pulled out the chair and sank into it. As she brought her hands to her lap she found them trembling.

Having made her career as an imperceptible thief, she'd bet her life on the steadiness of her hands a million times.

But today they shook and they wouldn't stop.

She hadn't slept since long before the train, long before the party. She hadn't eaten either.

Grace clenched her hands into fists. She'd be fine. She'd get her cool back. Her hands would stop shaking. She just needed food and rest.

She'd be fine.

Briggs moved back towards the door they'd entered through. "You good? You gotta use the facilities?"

It took a second for Grace's mind to catch up to his words, but when she did she shook her head minutely. "No. I'm fine."

Briggs met her eyes again, and said nothing as she drew up an air of confidence and stared unblinkingly back.

He nodded once. "See you around, Grace."

//

Twenty minutes after Briggs disappeared, the door opened again, and a well-dressed man stepped inside, holding a laptop case.

Grace watched him move into the room, her eyes sweeping over the styled sandy blonde hair, the broad shoulders and narrow waist, the thickness of his arms under his gray suit jacket, the brilliant blue of his eyes, and the massive veins on the backs of his hands.

She leaned back in her chair, not at all caring that she was staring at the newcomer. Her confidence was ebbing back, lifting her shoulders and popping up her chin.

The man set down his laptop case on the table and pulled out the chair opposite her.

A moment later he had his elbows on the table, his hands clasped before him. "So."

She quirked a sharply angled eyebrow at the guttural rasp of his voice.

The agent didn't blink. In fact, he looked exhausted. "You're Ethan's Grace."

"And who the hell are you?"