Author's Note: Here's a one shot drabble inspired by playing the song shuffle game. In this case, Keri Hilson's song "Pretty Girl Rock" came up. So who else but the lovely Agent Jane Carter could be the focus? For not only is she pretty, but I'm fairly sure she'd "bury" you if you stepped out of line.

I don't own any of the Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol characters. I just dig them.

xxx

My Name is Jane

She slid the earphones smoothly into position. Next, she took a moment to adjust her ponytail. Her t-shirt was riding up, exposing a bit of flat stomach to any onlookers. And oh, did she have a few onlookers. Unlike some of the other female IMF employees using the gym that morning, decked in barely-there shorts and fitted tanks, Jane wore a simple T-shirt and shorts; yet her natural beauty and confidence shone through. But Jane ignored the eyes she could feel resting on her curves as she walked to an open punching bag. Her playlist started, and so did her fists. Right, left, right. Right, left, right. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

As her fists kept the beat going, she could almost hear the echoing footfalls of her boots earlier in the week.

xxx

Her heels clopped against the cobblestones in an European alleyway as she pursued a target. Sans hair tie, her long locks whipped around her face as she pushed herself to charge faster.

"Benji! I need a lockdown on where the van is," she spoke fiercely, her earpiece picking up her voice despite the heaviness in her breath.

"Working on it, Jane..."

"Gotta work faster, Benj. Can't let the target make it to his rendezvous," she said, her frustration increasing at the calmness in his voice.

"Working on it, Jane..."

She rolled her eyes as she willed her thighs to work faster. "Ethan..."

"Coming up on your right," he huffed. An opening in the wall showed a flash of Ethan's running frame as she passed it.

"Think you'll have to cut her off," Jane suggested.

"Guys, I'm coming," Brandt spoke firmly. Jane could hear an engine revving in her earpiece.

"Only about time," Benji commented with humor in his voice.

"Hey, hot-wiring's never been my forte. You and Jane are the pros at that," Brandt defended.

"Target's still got the backpack?" Ethan interrupted.

"Confirmed," said Jane before movement to her left caught her eye. In a swift moment, a tall, well-built man in black civilian clothes emerged from an adjacent alleyway and was headed straight for her. She had all but a split second to duck, narrowly missing the new foe's fist from colliding with her face. When he countered with his other fist, she gracefully deflected the move.

"Jane? Why don't I see you anymore?" Ethan asked, clearly noticing her no longer running parallel to him.

"Engaged with second threat," she huffed as the man caught her in her side with the back of his foot.

"You guys were followed?" Benji asked, his voice void of the previous calmness.

She kicked the man's gut, forcing him back against a brick wall. "Apparently!" she said, dodging his fists again. He was winded. Good.

"I'm coming," Brandt's voice spoke.

"No, stay on target," Jane reprimanded. But she wheezed when the man made contact with her own gut. That hurt. That was going to be tender for a while. She roared as she gave herself a running start and threw her body's weight at the man, running him into the wall.

"Jane?" Benji shouted.

Jane thrusted her wrist toward her enemy's face, hearing the instant crack of a broken nose. The man howled in his native language. "I can handle this!" she growled.

"Ethan?" Benji asked with apprehension.

"Almost...on top of...target," Ethan puffed.

She continued punching and dodging, kicking when an opening revealed itself. But she was getting tired. This guy was so much larger than she was, both in height and width. And they'd been chasing the target down for a while. She felt her muscles straining to keep up with the adrenaline running through her. Right, left, right. Change it up.

Although only a minute or so had passed since radio chatter, Jane's ears picked up a car's engine approaching her. She tried to check inconspicuously out of the corner of her eye while still focusing on her enemy. But then a glint of light crossed her face. He'd pulled out a knife. Well, she was surprised he hadn't brought out a weapon sooner. He swung at her, the blade cutting the air with a succinct sound. She pulled back without feeling any contact. He lashed again, lunging toward her side. She shifted her weight, spinning out of the way and giving herself the momentum to move to his side. Jane used the continuing momentum to grab and rotate his arm, quickly disarming him as he felt the pain of his arm moving the wrong way. The minute he dropped the weapon, she used the chance to kick his legs, forcing him off his feet. He landed with a thud on his back. Before he could register the lightheadedness he was experiencing from his head colliding with the ground, Jane punched him in the face. KO'ed.

Breathing heavily, she looked up as a car stopped right in front of her. Brandt sat behind the driver's seat. She searched the unconscious man's pockets, pulling out his wallet. She left the money on his chest but pocketed his identification. She also grabbed the discarded knife before running up to the passenger's side.

"What took you?" she asked as she slid into her seat.

"Oh, you know. Had to run from some bad guys. Do some shooting. Find a car. Get it to start. Then find you guys," Brandt listed with exasperation before his modest smirk appeared. "Again, the car was the hardest part."

"The Helper has a moment of helplessness?" she kidded.

Brandt shrugged before whistling, his eyes on the unconscious man's body. "Can't call you helpless...ever...can I?" he said. His tone registered how impressed he was.

"You so surprised?"

He shook his head. "With you? Never. But he ain't no Benji. Wish I could've seen you take him down."

"Hey! I resemble that remark!" Benji replied on his end.

"Actually, guy got me pretty good a few times. Think I'm a little off my mark," she admitted, her hand hovering over the bruise she was sure was forming on her stomach.

Brandt took off down the alleyway, eyes forward, but his hand still found its way to her arm. "You okay?"

She tried to ignore the way the kind gesture tingled through her jacket and along her skin. She was far from weak, especially when she couldn't afford to be in a male-dominated industry, and yet Brandt had a knack for weakening her resolve. "Nothing serious. Just...sore."

"Hmm," said Brandt, nothing more, as he turned his attention back to catching up to Ethan.

They pulled up further down the road only to find Ethan fighting the backpacker. But the backpack was, at least, on Ethan's back at this point.

"Excuse me," said Brandt as he reached across her body and opened the glove compartment. She understood when she saw the gun inside.

"Ethan, take cover," she warned. Checking its rounds, Jane rolled down her window, leaned out a bit, and started to shoot towards the men. Jane's initial series of rounds danced near the target without making contact. The foe started to run away from the approaching car and Ethan. He broke towards the open intersection. Jane raised the gun again, taking her time to line up her aim. She pulled the trigger three times. Contact! The man crumpled and fell to the ground.

"Nice shot!" Brandt complimented, slowing the car down as they rolled up to Ethan. "Package safe?" he asked Ethan.

Ethan nodded, catching his breath before he pulled the dead body out of the road. When he returned, he nodded to Jane and spoke, "Nicely done."

"Thank Agent Brandt here for finding such a well-equipped vehicle," she teased as Ethan jumped into the back seat.

"Mission accomplished?" Benji chimed in.

"Affirmative," said Ethan.

"Thank goodness. I've been cooped in this van for way too long. Only so many times a bloke can here that techno music pumping from next door. I swear, it's like the music's knocking on the door trying to get in and kidnap me with a mesh shirt-like bag on my head..."

"Benji!" Ethan interrupted.

The technician-turned-field agent stopped himself. "Sorry. Starting to get hungry. Hunger and nerves equal rambling fool."

"I'll buy you a pint later if you beat box some of that techno you've been jammin to," Brandt joked.

"Not bloody ever!" Benji retorted.

Jane smiled as Brandt replied, "We're heading out, Benj. Pack up and meet us at the rendezvous."

"Save the round for when we land home. I've *got* to hear how you managed to pick and start a car. A *European* car at that. I've seen you try break-ins before and," Benji laughed with mirth, "it's better than most TV."

"In due time. First, we get this back home to the CIA," added Ethan, his hand resting on the backpack.

Jane allowed herself to close her eyes, still breathing through the stiffness in her stomach. Now that they were on their way to the departure point, she felt she could give herself a minute to drift away from the world...

xxx

"Tired already?" Brandt's voice interrupted.

Jane broke her punching bag training to turn and face him. Clad in a plain T-shirt, gym shorts, and sneakers, Brandt looked at ease in the IMF rec room.

"Tired? Meh," she countered, removing her earphones. She grinned. "What took you? And this time, you have no "hot-wiring" excuses."

He shook his head. "None whatsoever. Was speaking with Ethan about the upcoming mission..." His voice trailed off as his eyes glided over her body. She felt a light blush hit her cheeks, despite the fact she had been aware of the number of male eyes that had been watching her work out. But it was different when coming from Brandt. Before he could catch himself, his fingers reached for her exposed stomach of their own accord. "That looks more painful than you made it sound."

"Hmm?" she asked, her mind momentarily hazy as her skin tingled where he touched her. She internally shook herself, realizing he was referring to her bruise. "Oh, that little thing."

He arched an eyebrow. "How little is it, really?"

She shook her head and responded with a sheepish grin. "Maybe not that little..."

"Is that why I'm here?" he asked. "You need a sparring partner?"

She nodded. "Mind being my own personal punching bag?"

"I'm not anywhere as tall as your last contender," he warned.

"You've got me beat in height. That's what counts right now," she countered.

They walked towards the mats, but Brandt stopped short. Once she realized he wasn't by her side any longer, she turned to face him. "Why not Ethan? He's a craftier fighter than me, probably a better partner."

She crossed her arms and chuckled softly. "Really? You fishing for compliments, Agent Brandt?"

He crossed his arms, grinning. "Just curious, Agent Carter. You call me in on a lovely Saturday morning without rhyme or reason. Wouldn't hurt to know 'why me'."

She closed the distance between them, hands on her hips. "Because I don't know your moves and...you and I spar well...on more than one level," she admitted the last bit softly. But he heard it all the same. "And you won't be easy on me."

"You don't think I'll take pity on you, knowing about your injury?" he countered. "Man, I sound like a bastard."

She laughed. "You're putting words in my mouth. And, anyways. More like...I know you'll do whatever it takes," she returned while continuing towards the mats.

"To do what, exactly?" he asked, following her.

"To help me make sure I don't end up in a position like that again." She paused to pull her shirt down, hiding what she deemed her recent weak spot. "Where I slip up and get myself hurt. Even if that means helping me get stronger by attempting to kick my ass rather than racing down an alleyway to save my ass."

He knew from past observations that Jane knew her strengths, but sometimes underestimated just how strongly she carried herself. Regardless of how protective the team may seem, because they looked out for their own when the world was otherwise untrustworthy, everyone knew she was more than qualified to take care of business by herself. But he wasn't going to let the opportunity to help her pass by; especially if it meant spending some one-on-one time together. "I'll never be one to doubt your skills, Jane. And you do make a good point about leveling up. So I'm yours for the morning."

"Thanks, Will." She threw a flirtatious glance over her shoulder. "Plus I didn't think you'd turn down a chance to wrestle with me."

He looked shocked for a moment before his lopsided grin came into view. He began to take his shoes off. "I'm pleading the fifth on that one."

"Sometimes, 'no comment' is the weightiest comment you can make," she teased as she took off her own.

"Didn't say 'no comment.'"

"You might as well have."

"You, Jane Carter, are one of the feistiest women I've had the pleasure of knowing."

"Famous last words, Brandt," she countered before she sprung forward. He caught her punch and spun her around, pulling her back to his front.

"If so, then what a way to go," he whispered teasingly into her ear.

She chuckled, right before slipping out of his embrace and assuming her fighting position. "Focus, Brandt. Let's dance."

xxx

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