[ON HIATUS] AMAZING GRACE // MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

BREAKFAST

Grace slept for ten hours. She couldn't remember the last time she slept on a mattress so comfortable. Waking up to the fluffy pillow under her head and the sunlight filtering through her blinds brought a feeling of peace to her anxious heart.

How freeing to not be on the run.

How calming to be known by her own name.

She folded back the comforter and swept her legs out of bed, curling her manicured toes in the fuzzy gray rug.

Grace made her bed and retrieved some of the clothes that Agent Brandt had helped her acquire the day before. Loose, cream-colored cotton pajamas were traded for a black t-shirt and sweatpants. Both had the IMF logo printed on them.

She'd received four t-shirts, two pairs of sweatpants, two pairs of shorts, and a badge that would get her basic access—the residence hall, kitchens, laundry rooms, the gym, the main exits and entrances.

If she wanted to get into any rooms of significance, she was screwed.

Agent Brandt had promised that she would get her full access card after she'd been on what he called a 'ride-along'. She'd assist someone—most likely him—on an assignment before being allowed to operate one of her own. When she proved she could competently do the job, they'd trust her with access.

He had also promised that she would be allowed to replenish her real wardrobe that weekend.

She highly doubted that he would personally take her shopping for underwear and feminine hygiene, but she was amused by the thought of it.

Grace rifled through her new cabinets, hoping for coffee.

Nothing.

She closed the doors with a huff. No food, no coffee.

The dishes looked like they'd been stolen from an IKEA room model.

Grace grabbed a cup from the cabinet and filled it from the fridge filter.

A knock sounded on her door.

Agent Brandt stood in the hall, holding two to-go cups that smelled like coffee and a white paper bag under his arm. He bobbed his head with a polite smile. "Good morning."

Grace's eyes lit up at the sight of the items in his hands. She stepped back with a smile, beckoning him in. "Good morning. Please tell me you brought some of that for me."

Agent Brandt shuffled inside and set the cups and the bag down on her tiny two-person table. "Coffee and sausage-egg-sandwiches. Before we start today, we'll go down the street to the grocery store and get you set up for the next week or so. Since I'm here in a hotel, I hope you don't mind if we prepare both our meals here."

Grace raised her eyebrows, following him to the table and reaching for the coffee he'd bought for her. "Since you're buying, I suppose you have every right."

She liked the idea of eating with him.

He pushed three packets of sugar and five creamer cups in her direction. "Wasn't sure how you took it."

She ripped the tops off of all three sugars and dumped them in, followed by two of the creamers, and then stirred it all together with a coffee stick. "Four sugars, two creams." She supplied. "But I'm desperate enough that this is perfect. Thank you."

Agent Brandt wore a pleased smile and nodded, sitting across from her and pulling out the individually wrapped sandwiches, passing her one.

Her eyes flashed over his attire, finding him in a gray t-shirt and blue jeans with a pair of brown leather work boots. It was a very simple, but very attractive look on him. She forced herself to pull her eyes away from the way the sleeves hugged his biceps.

Brandt noticed her glances at his jeans. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and swallowed his bite before saying, "I brought you one of my shirts. We're not supposed to leave with the IMF clothes. The shirt should be long enough on you to cover the branding on your sweats."

She glanced down at the IMF logo on her hip and flushed at the idea of wearing his shirt in public.

Frantic to change the subject, she gave an agreeable nod and opened the wrapping of her sandwich. "We're training today?"

Agent Brandt lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "It's an assessment. There are physical requirements for annual checkups. I gotta make sure you pass. Tomorrow we train."

"Training for what?"

His blue, blue eyes searched her brown ones for a long moment. "For the job." Already finished eating, he tossed his trash back into the bag it came in. "You have to be strong and fast. You have to be able to fight. You worked with Ethan. You've seen him run."

Memories of his machine-like motions flashed into her head and she nodded quickly. "He runs like a maniac."

Agent Brandt snorted in amusement. "Yeah, no kidding. But I've never seen anyone be able to run as far or as fast as he can. It's part of the job. We have to train."

Grace sipped from her coffee. "I'm going to regret this."