Catarina Alveres was certain of a few things in her life: that her lover was probably thinking up ways to murder her for leaving him alone with their two year old, and that she was going to strangle Ethan Hunt with her bare hands. She was cold, barely dressed, and covered in fake blood that was going to leave her skin pink for a month—all because he thought two fake dead bodies would make the man confess faster. Of course, she should have known that it wouldn't move along any faster just because it was Ethan that came up with the idea—a last minute idea that left Catarina fully conscious and wondering when the Russian agent would cough up the name the team needed.
Next to her and growing colder by the second, was Claire Phelps, who was lucky enough to have been drugged so she would appear dead. Catarina was jealous of her, wishing she had just hid in her closet until Ethan and Jim had left instead of meeting them outside with a glass of chardonnay. She'd probably have better luck behind the false wall where everyone else was waiting; at least there she could swallow regularly. As it is, she was barely allowing herself to breathe and trying her damnedest not to let her teeth chatter too loudly.
"Dimitri…." The agent starts hesitantly, the first word Catarina's been able to understand since she entered the room. "….Miediev." With her eyes barely opened, she can see Hannah entering the room, holding a tray with two shot glasses. Thank Christ, Catarina thinks as she waits for the agent to down the shot, now I can breathe better. The agent goes down with a thunk and Catarina sits bolt upright in the bed, making a face as she attempts to wipe the fake blood off one of her thighs. The walls are pulled away as IMF agents begin to break the place down and Ethan walks over without the mask.
"How are you feelin', Cat," he asks as he injects the reviving serum into Claire's arm.
"I'm never coming back to Kiev," she grumbles irritably. "I mean, it's one thing to come to Russia with sensible clothing, but it's something else entirely to convince a big Russian guy that you're a prostitute when your lips are turning blue." She climbs over the still-unconscious Claire and picks up the heavy coat Ethan had pulled off, savoring the warmth.
"Come on, at least you didn't get injected with this stuff."
"I wouldn't have heard the guy blubbering if I had." With a half-smirk, Catarina walks over to Jack and takes his coffee from him, pressing the cup against her face with a satisfied hum. "Can I have this?" Jack shrugs with an easy smile, leaning back in his chair and tugging gently on Cat's wrist until she was sitting on his lap. They've known each other for years and there was nothing more than friendship between the pair, Jack and Catarina were a good team, but Cat and Ethan were even better. Ethan and Cat had trained together and usually shared the same missions since they could predict the other's line of thinking even if the plan they came up with would leave the others scratching their heads or backing away in apprehension. Of course, that doesn't mean they always got along, it just meant that their sparring matches often got very heated and usually ended with one of them being knocked unconscious.
"Hey, Cat, why don't you get the car ready so we can get back to the hotel," Jack asks, sipping from the cup Cat still had pressed against her cheek. She gives a slight nod, passing the cup back before getting to her feet and walking towards the exit. That's when the unexpected happened, a man stepped away from a group of Sweepers, raised the pistol he held in his hand, and fired a shot at Cat before she even had time to sound the alarm. The sound of the shot rang out in the warehouse and Cat dropped to the ground hard, clutching her side and squeezing her eyes shut. "Cat!"
"Get him," Ethan cries out, sprinting to kneel beside Cat with Jack right beside him as the others chase after the man. "Look at me, Cat." She barely opens her eyes, letting out a groan as Ethan applies pressure to the wound.
"I'm good," she manages to gasp out with a faint smile. "This remind you of anything?"
"You mean Budapest?" She lets out a breathless laugh, thankful that Jack was allowing her to use his lap as a pillow. "You and I remember Budapest very differently."
"You're right, you were the one shot that time." She lets out a sharp gasp as a stab of pain rushes through her again. "Hey, tell the guy that stitches me up that I want a lightening bolt." It's Ethan that laughs this time, shaking his head at his best friend's words. "God, I think it's time to retire."
"And do what, Cat? You gonna spend your days fishing?" He was trying to distract her, but it wasn't working as well as he'd hoped it would. Lucky for all of them that this wasn't Cat's first time getting shot, though this was more painful than the times before.
"Hell no, I hate fishing."
"Come on," she whispers," a little closer, a little closer." Her target was nearly there and once it reached the bait, then she would be able to snatch it up quickly enough. "A little closer…. That's it." With fast reflexes, she begins to reel in the fish with a triumphant grin and a little jump of excitement. It had worked and she would have enough fish for dinner tonight if she kept this up for a few more hours! She never noticed a man limping towards her as she freed the hook from the fish, and so she nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke.
"I thought you hated fishing." She lets out a small scream, the fish flying out of her hands and back into the small lake and swimming away. She turns to face the man that spoke, glaring at him even though he had a good foot and a half on her and was certainly larger. He was also gorgeous with short dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and tanned skin; his mouth was small and his lips thin, his nose was straight, but he had a few bruises and scrapes in places.
"You look like shit," she returns after taking her friend in.
"Well, at least I don't spend my days fishing." She frowns down at the water before picking up her empty cooler and fishing pole.
"No, you spend your days getting disavowed and having a manhunt issued. Did you know they thought you were at my house? It certainly surprised them when they burst inside and found me in the kitchen in my panties and one of Alexander's shirts, but it surprised them more when I threw my coffee cup at them—my favorite coffee cup."
"Are they still here?"
"No, they left a while ago and I stomped on all the bugs they placed around my house. Come on up, it's safe and you can tell me what the fuck actually happened Prague." Ethan follows her up the gently sloping hill and to the back door of her home, waiting patiently for her to open it and then following her into the spacious kitchen. He had to give it to her, she really had a nice place and it looked like she kept it clean.
"Jim is dead, Cat." Cat pauses for a moment, closing her eyes and biting her lip to keep from crying. "He was shot by a mole in the IMF."
"And the rest of the team?"
"All dead except for me and Claire, and we barely made it out alive." She nods, setting the pole and cooler down on the kitchen table and walking further into the house to the living room where Claire and Cat's lover were sitting on the couch with Cat's son lying between them. Isaac looks up when he hears them walk in, the two year old getting a big grin when he spots his godfather. "Hey, little man." Ethan scoops Isaac up into his arms before taking his place on the couch while Alexander moved to sit next to Cat on the love-seat across from the couch.
"It has to be pretty bad out there for you to come recruit me."
"Who says I'm recruiting you?"
"I do," Cat smiles, leaning forward slightly as the old excitement begins to resurface. "I can't exactly let you run around while hiding from IMF without tagging along to bail you out of trouble." Alexander clears his throat, sending his lover a pointed look and then looking to their son. "Relax, Alex, I'll come back."
"Come back without a few scars and I'll be surprised," he grumbles, knowing Cat well enough not to argue. She needed the excitement and adrenaline or else she'd go batty, and he knew fishing wasn't cutting it. Alexander stands and takes his son into his arms, sending Ethan a look now. "She comes back in one piece, understand."
"I'll do my best," Ethan nods sadly. It was a known fact that agents didn't always return to their families, but Alexander had been an IMF agent before he met Cat and knew the costs of it all; he also knew that Cat may not come home at all and he could be stuck raising Isaac by himself. "Do you still have your emergency bag packed, Cat?"
"It's in the hall closet," Cat says with a soft smile," Give me a few minutes to change out of my fishing clothes and I'll be ready to head out."
"I thought you hated fishing." She gives the older man a playful glare as she stands up.
"Fuck you, Hunt."