A/N: Better get things straight. I am totally unable to finish my other stories until I get other plots out of my mind. This one is quite intoxicating. So I've decided to finish it before posting the whole of it.

T'was supposed to be a one-shot, which ended into many many words, and I had to cut it down.

Hope you enjoy!

1. Dah Hell?

I could feel it. I had finally reached the men's lair. I could feel a wave of relief over me. It was quite unusual for me to be relieved.

I leaned on the wooden door, and as suspected, I could hear several voices behind it. All male. I still couldn't make if they're speaking in Russian, though, I wasn't fluent.

I'd been assigned a mission right after the Ghost Protocol was aborted. Me. A mere novice. On the field. Alone. Sublime idea.

So I was there, standing behind a door in India, gun at hand, waiting for the right moment to make a fracassing entrance.

I got my chance, finally, as I heard one man coming my way.

I kicked the door open and pointed my gun into...nothing. There was no one in there.

Bugger. I've been screwed.

I merely had the time to notice a sudden wave of air before someone tried to kick my gun off my hand from behind. Fortunately for me, I still had a straining, not so long ago.

I sent my leg on his to make him trip, but he just jumped, allowing me to grip his right arm and to make him swirl above my shoulder.

Then I gasped. Before me, lying on the dusty floor, was Ethan Bloody Hunt.

"Oops" I said as I outstretched a hand to help him up.

A gun touching my bare back stopped me. A female voice then said "Don't move or you're dead." Great, now I've gotten myself a new best friend.

A small blonde man came out of a back room, and ran to Ethan to help him up in my place.

Agent Hunt stared at me with bull's-eyes, and pointed at my face. "Do not ever do that again, understood?"

The gun in my back disappeared. "You know her?"

Ethan nodded. "It's Agent Lora Marlow. She was a novice before Moscow. Now she's a full-time agent." I snorted. "What, isn't that the case?"

I shook my head. "If I was a full-time agent, I wouldn't have found myself in a pitiful Indian place, chasing KGB's agents, and fall on you guys. What the hell are you doing here anyway?"

Ethan sat at a table, and the woman who kept me "entertained" came to sit in front of him, her gun still firmly held in her hand. He nodded towards her. "This is Agent Jane Carter, and there is Agent Benji Dunn." He nodded at the guy who helped him up. Something of a Briton here.

"Three of you? Are you on a mission or something?" I said, turning around to close the door on the silent street.

Carter nodded. "Same as you, apparently. We have to find three rogue KGB's agents and bring them back safely to Guantanamo."

I nodded. "That's what I've been assigned to do too. So I guess they just wanted me to think I was a full agent while in fact they were just throwing me into their best agent's arms."

Ethan smirked and crossed his arms. "I'm flattered, Lora, but I think this will be hard as hell to find you a use. Benji here is our computer operator, Jane is our backup leader, and we have another guy who helps for...various things."

I sat on the floor and smirked back. "Then I can be your team-leader."

Carter looked at me as if I was insane, Benji as if I was going to win huge repress, and Ethan just kept his famous poker face on.

I then started to laugh. "Your faces are just priceless. Agent Hunt, I thought you knew. I'm a impressionist. Quite good, apparently, thought I couldn't finish my training due to...obvious reasons."

He nodded back. "I remember. You can be of some use then. Still, I want to know something. How did you escape Ghost Protocol?"

I shrugged. "I didn't escape it, I impersonated it. See, there was a bunch of C.I.A puppets on the HQ who were supposed to wash the whole place up. I just pretended to be one of them, and they bought it."

Benji whistled. "Well, if you can fool the C.I.A-"

"Anyone can fool them, they are a bunch of idiots." Ethan got up. "Brandt should be back with our uniforms now. Where the hell is he?"

Carter grabbed her phone. "Darn. Still no service."

Benji smirked. "You're in India, dear, not in bloody New-York."

I sat on Ethan's chair and started tapping an old song on the table's wood.

And the minutes passed. And passed again.

And then, all of a sudden, the door opened and someone got in.

Oops. No, not someone, sorry. The someone. I had to swallow very noisily and pretend not to look at him before I got spotted.

My, the man was gorgeous. Short brown hair, chiselled face, and my-god blue eyes. Jeez, I had to look blankly at the table for a while before recovering some countenance and finally look up.

My gaze met his. He was looking at me quite quizzically, in fact. Ethan looked between the two of us, and then gestured to the apparition.

"Lora, this is Agent William Brandt, former chief-analyst. Brandt, this is Agent Lora Marlow. She's here to help. She's a professional impressionist."

The man – Brandt – looked impressed for a second, and then he came up to me to shake hands.

I tried not to look too obvious as I stared at him. Man, the guy was a pure Olympian God or what?

Benji then planted a plate in front of me. "Come on, Miss Novice, diner has arrived. And trust old Brandt to bring back delicious food." Then he leaned down to pretend to whisper. "The man's tastes in gastronomy are quite indefinite."

I fought back a smirk as Brandt mimicked shooting Benji in the head.

Good Lord! I was about to go on a mission with Freaking Hunt and his team, and of course also with a dangerously hot fellow-agent. That was not what my training told me I'd do!