30 Days of Assorted One-Shots

Day 7: Warming Up To Love

"Any idea where we go next?"

"Somewhere warmer than out here."

"And where do you suggest we find somewhere like that? Because last time I checked, we're currently wanted by the Russian Government."

The man at your side passes you a glance, accompanied by a soft grin.

"I have a few places in mind."

****

By the time the pair of you had managed to find one of the many small, vacant apartments scattered around the outskirts of the city, your shivering hadn't ceased.

In fact, you'd argue it's only gotten worse.

"If you're good here, I'm gonna head back out and see if I can find a phone to get us an evac as soon as possible," Your Partner hums, standing at the exit, his figure bathed in the warm glow of the lamp you'd instinctively flicked on moments ago.

You're practically frozen to the spot where you also stand, facing him with what you hope is a neutral expression on your features.

"Okay," Is all you're able to muse through chattering teeth, rubbing your hands over your bare arms in a vain attempt to warm up.

Chuckling to himself, you simply watch as Ethan nears you, a compassionate gleam in his gaze, a warm hand making contact with your shoulder.

"Try to warm up," He suggests, motioning to your evidently waterlogged figure, your clothes practically dripping with rainwater. "I'll get you a change of clothes while I'm out, too."

You nod wordlessly, grasping the wrist of his hand resting against your shoulder, giving it a thankful squeeze as he moves away, heading for the door.

You do the same, wandering back towards the small bathroom, beginning the struggle of getting rid of your soaked clothing.

Originally, a hot shower had been the first thing on your list, but after walking by numerous signs all informing this building's tenants that there's currently no hot water, sprawled across lined paper in messy Russian, that idea had quickly been scratched off.

So, that leaves you with the only idea you can think of.

Removing your beyond damp clothing and setting it out to dry... somewhere... then, don the rather ancient looking bathrobe on the back of the bathroom door and slide under the covers of the single bedroom's queen sized bed...

Hopefully piling blankets on top of you will be enough to warm you up.

Because the last thing either of us need is me getting sick.

Then I'd really slow him down.

You sigh heavily, the sound of the front door closing and locking meeting your ears, your Partner well on his way.

Leaving just your thoughts and the pounding rain against the thin windowpanes to keep you company.

You already feel bad enough that you'd spent almost every moment after escaping the hospital being useless and a burden.

A shivering, trembling mess of a usually steady and highly skilled Agent is the very definition of a burden.

And though Ethan Hunt would never say it to your face - that you, his own Partner - was slowing him down, you know right well that's what he's thinking.

Or maybe you're just overthinking.

Shaking your head with a huff of annoyance, you wrangle your way out of your clothes, bundling them up and setting them aside, tossing the starchy bathrobe over your shoulders, tying it in a knot at the front.