FOOLISH AND GIRLISH

This fiction in no way wishes to infringe on the copywrite holders of MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE.

The waiter brought her coffee.

They were taking the night train from Munich to Paris, after yet another problematic but successful mission. Cinnamon Carter sat at a booth in the dining car, smoking and looking thoughtful as she stared out the window, watching the dark scenery as it passed at a rapid pace. She was sitting by herself, wrapped in a snug blue sweater, with very few other travelers in the booths surrounding the lovely spy.

She could not sleep.

Cinnamon felt a bit sorry for him. He was a little guy, rather inconsequential to their mission, but he would go down like the rest of them. She mentioned it to Dan, who nodded solemnly but added little in the way of rectifying the situation. A sad predictability, she supposed. Cinnamon had to remind herself that he and his family were the means to an end. The IMF, she was reminded, were not there to be moral barometers but often amoral participants.

Innocent people could get hurt, although the IMF team always did their best to prevent that from happening. Sadly, this time it was not an option. And it felt so wrong.

"I saw you leave your compartment." Rollin Hand stealthily slid into the opposite side of the booth, brashly and correctly assuming, as only a marginally arrogant actor would, that Cinnamon would want his company. He noted both her pensive expression and a half empty cup of coffee. Subtly, he motioned for the waiter to secure him a cup as well. "Penny for your thoughts." He said, curious.

"Foolish and girlish." was her odd reply.

His expression showed disbelief, "You? Nah, I'm thinking it's more like a guilty conscience?" he queried.

"That obvious?" she chuckled without mirth. Rollin read people well, she knew. Then, "Erik Geis." She said, because she knew her teammate would accept nothing less than the truth. When he wasn't pretending otherwise, Rollin was a direct man and she respected that about her fellow agent. "He doesn't deserve the danger we placed him in, Rollin. He is only a small cog in a huge conspiracy, not a bad man really, and he has a wife and child that he loves dearly." She shrugged mildly, looking again out the window. "I know it shouldn't, considering the types of assignments I've been associated with in the past, but it … bothers me."

Rollin understood. Cinnamon had gotten to know the three family members during her essential segment of their mission. They were kind to a lowly but lovely peasant girl who asked for their help. They gave her food and a bed for the night. He said, "After all the things we've witnessed and been through, you'd think we could get past it. We should do our jobs and not think about what happens after we leave, the innocent people involved – but we have a conscience."

"Can't be helped." She agreed, "I wonder if Dan is as troubled as we are."

"Moreso. It's his plan. But he'll never show it."

Cinnamon nodded, extinguishing her cigarette in the tabletop ashtray. "Now we go home, proud of ourselves, then move onto the next."

"That sums it up." Speaking quietly, over his coffee cup, Rollin asked – "Do you want out?"

"Oh, no." she said without hesitation - and missed the relieved look on his face. "But I am allowed to question what we do occasionally, aren't I?"

"We all do." He admitted, now looking out the window like his companion. "But I have to believe that what we achieve, here and now, makes a difference for the future ... and the good." He added, "A big good."

"I want to believe that too, Rollin. But then someone like Erik Geis is a casualty and …" she trailed off.

"And that is part of the reason why this work isn't for everyone." he reminded.

With a slight arching of an eyebrow Cinnamon looked directly at him and asked, "Are you calling me thin-skinned?"

He glanced at Cinnamon and a small smirk upturned his generous mouth, "Trust me, I'd never say anything negative with regards to your skin, Miss Carter."

This made her smile. Rollin Hand was ever the flirt. But, like Erik Geis before him, he was also a kind man. A team member she, if Cinnamon was ever forced to do without him for a long stretch of time, was not altogether certain how she would carry on. His handsome and knowledgeable presence always brought with it a sense of ease. Yet, when she saw him, her pulse also started to race. Granted, they had worked missions apart, but she was never as comfortable as when their "master of disguise" was involved.

Cinnamon noticed he was looking at her, possibly trying to read her thoughts, by examining her expression. Again, she gently smiled and shook her head negatively., "Just being foolish and girlish." She replied once again to his unasked question, "And it's late."

Carefully, she slid out of the booth and stood, Rollin following her as a gentleman does. She was thinking now would be the best time to part company, before she did or said something that might make him uncomfortable. "Some of us need to get out beauty sleep." She then reached forward and gently placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Rollin. I appreciate your empathy. Really, I do."

Her sincerity, and the pressure of her hand on his shoulder, staggered him somewhat. She had a way about her, an easy and unassuming seductiveness. No wonder men so often found themselves under Miss Carter's spell. She wasn't even trying and she managed to befuddle him.

Rollin quickly appeared unaffected and said, "Goodnight, Cinnamon." He pulled out his cigarette pack as her hand slid away. He was vaguely saddened by the lost contact, but it did not show on his face. "I'll be turning in soon myself."

They looked at one another for a few seconds longer. She then departed, leaving what was on her mind unspoken, thoughtfully making her way back to her train compartment.

Rollin tucked the cigarette pack back into his pocket and sat again, reflective and indecisive.

When the waiter returned to pick up Cinnamon's lipstick-tinged mug, he asked Rollin if he would like a refill.

"No." the agent replied with a sullen smile and watched him leave.

In the end, Rollin decided he remained behind because of her scent. The lovely floral aroma Cinnamon wore still lingered. When he closed his eyes, in his mind, she was still there. Beautiful, seductive, smart, and strong. Yet, at times like these, sensitive, vulnerable and, in many ways, innocent.

If Cinnamon ever did leave the IMF he would probably go with her. What would be the reason to stay behind when the one woman he truly cared about was no longer a part of the team? Yet, what would happen from there? Would he seek her out? If he did, would she really be interested? He would like to think so but sometimes Rollin wondered if he might be misreading Cinnamon's signals.

Perhaps one day he would know for sure.

With purpose, Rollin allowed one last in draw of breath, pleased with the sensation, then he stood. "Girlish." He whispered with a gentle, humorous expression, "And foolish."

Slowly, nearly reluctantly, Rollin made his way back to his own cabin.

THE END

Oct. 2023

Barbara Bain (Cinnamon Carter) once said that she never felt like the characters on Mission: Impossible were overly moral people. They were rather amoral.

The end justified the means - but they had heart.

That was the inspiration for this fiction.