A/N: I can't seem to get this idea out of my head, so I'm writing it. And I've seen very few fics where Benji or Jane get to react just as much as Ethan, so that is also why I'm writing this. Have fun! (Also posted on AO3).

He was early, but that was okay. It wasn't like there was anything life-threatening going on right now. For a change. And that was nice. It was just an evening with friends, relaxing over some good food and a few beers, letting go of the tension that always accumulated after one too many save the world missions.

Now if only someone other than himself would get here, it would be awesome. Benji Dunn scowled at the table top in front of him, absently shoving a napkin around on the battered surface. How often had they come to this bar and grill, again? It seemed as if it had become Ethan's favorite post-mission decompression meeting place.

And to be fair, it was a great place. The beers were good, the food was good, the weather – usually – cooperated with them and wasn't pouring rain when they were here and the people were friendly. It was accepted by the employees here that Ethan and his friends had high stress jobs. Benji smirked slightly as he recalled Will's completely serious face as he told a wide-eyed waiter that sometimes he just wanted to get away from the stress, but you know, he couldn't even talk about it, except, well, his friends were in the same kind of work and they understood and he hated that people kept asking what he did for a living…

The waiter had spread the news, and suddenly, Benji, Jane, Ethan and William had been adopted by the employees, who defended their privacy ferociously. They always had a table when they arrived, even if one had to be cleared in a hurry. They got free refills on anything that wasn't alcohol. The owner – a middle-aged woman named Shannon with graying brown hair and dancing dark eyes - was firmly against using alcohol as a means of drowning your problems and wasn't going to risk any of them being too drunk to drive themselves home. In her words, "If you want to be idiots and become statistics, be my guest. You won't do it here."

Benji was pretty sure it was this statement which had made Will get so attached to her. It had been a pretty epic night, two missions ago, when they had come in, sore and weary and bone-tired, to find a group of drunk college co-eds making a mess of the terrace area and ignoring every attempt Shannon made to get them to leave. It had obviously long passed the point of asking them to settle down.

Shannon had sighed, and headed back behind the bar to call the police to remove the idiots, when Brandt had stopped her with a hand on the arm, and a small grin. Benji and Jane had watched, gaping, as their teammate had proceeded to insert himself into the rowdy group with barely a ripple, and then proceeded to make each and every one of them go red with shame and embarrassment with well-placed comments and scathing observations.

Ethan – typical of the man – had just grinned and said "Chief Analyst," in response to Jane and Benji's dropped jaws. The drinks had all been on the house that night.

"What's got you in the dumps?"

Benji jumped, badly startled, as Jane slid into the seat next to his, grinning. His drink sloshed as he jostled it, and then attempted to save it. Another hand came from his left, catching the wobbling glass before Benji's fumbling could completely tip it over and he looked up into Ethan Hunt's quietly amused expression.

"Jumpy tonight, Benji? We haven't even been on a mission lately."

Benji made a face, and then grinned at his team leader. "Doesn't mean I don't still jump out of my skin when any of you ninja your way up behind me."

Jane propped her chin on one loosely curled fist, humor dancing in her expression. "I did not 'ninja' up behind you. I walked, like a normal person. And shouldn't you be able to 'ninja' as well?"

"Communications!" he sing-songed at her. "I leave the impersonations and gravity defying acrobatics to the rest of you."

Jane laughed, and Benji beamed. He loved it when he made her laugh. Or when he made any of his team mates laugh, but really, it was nicest when he got Jane to do it. She lit up when she laughed and it was beautiful to watch.

"Speaking of the rest of us," Ethan said, taking his own seat. "Have any of you heard from Brandt in the past few days? I haven't been able to get him to respond to my messages."

Benji frowned and Jane stopped laughing. "Really?" the communications expert asked. "I thought he was just busy with that new posting he was setting up. Didn't he confirm he was coming?"

Ethan shook his head. Benji exchanged a worried look with Jane. That wasn't like their analyst. Benji dug his phone out, and clicked through to his messages. "Huh," he said. "Last I have is his griping about the red tape IMF makes him fill out for, and I quote, every single nail in the building. This is taking the saying about the nail and the horseshoe a little far." He double checked the date stamp and his frown deepened. "That was five days ago."

Ethan nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I texted him about meeting today four days ago," he offered, then looked across to Jane. "When did you last hear from him?"

Jane shook her head. "Over two weeks ago. I've been busy with the first aid recertification and looking for a new apartment. He promised to help me look last I talked with him, but we haven't been in contact since." Worry battled with seriousness on her face; Agent Carter fighting with the friend Jane for dominance. "Are we sure it's not just a new assignment that's causing this?"

Ethan shrugged and Benji could feel his fingers twitching as he longed for his computer. "I can check to make sure after I get my laptop, but otherwise…" he trailed off and shrugged as well. Even if William Brandt had applied for – and received – permission to be a field agent again, he was still technically an analyst as well. He had jobs that the rest of them were not allowed in on, and sometimes they had had to go on missions without him, when he couldn't be spared. Will always made the effort to be there for them, though.

"Then," Ethan began, but he didn't get any further. Across the terrace, near the entrance to Shannon's domain, a commotion broke out. Some people were fighting to get out the door while others were fighting to get in, the words of each of them a confusing jumble and the three IMF agents could only pick out a few.

"-New York, of course it's New York-"

"-gotta be a fake-"

"-knew aliens were real!"

"-kill us all!"

They didn't need to consult each other to know what to do. They'd worked together under terrifying circumstances too often to need to do that. Benji flipped a ten down onto the table to cover his drink and a tip, Jane went around to a side entrance that everyone else seemed to have forgotten in their panic and Ethan began calmly directing people out of the tangle in the doorway, restoring order as Benji made sure all the chairs were out of walking paths so no one tripped and freaked out any more than they already were.

Couldn't the chaos leave them alone for one meeting? Really? This was the first time they'd managed to get together not in the wake of a mission in nearly six months. Benji had been looking forward to relaxing with his friends without the added stress of wondering who was pushing themselves too far for their recent wounds.

"Benji!" Ethan's urgent call had him abandoning his sorting of chairs and following his team leader into the now much less chaotic bar area, where every TV seemed tuned to the same station. That struck Benji as odd. Shannon made sure there was always a variety on her TVs for her patrons. Not everyone liked the same thing, after all.

"My god…" Jane whispered, already at Ethan's side, one hand covering her mouth as she stared. Benji finally focused on what was playing on the screens and felt his jaw drop.

Was that a…flying whale? He blinked, scrubbed at his eyes with both hands and looked again.

Nope. Still there.

"What the hell…?"

Jane gave a shaky laugh. "I guess everyone was justified in freaking out."

Ethan's already tense form rocked forward slightly. Benji glanced over and wondered just when Ethan had lost all that color in his face. He didn't usually do shock. Not like normal people, anyway. He didn't do anything normally –

"Is that Brandt?"

"What?!" Benji nearly gave himself whiplash looking back at the TV Ethan was studying so intently and Jane was suddenly mission alert on Ethan's other side.

"I think…no, no, go back, come on, that's obviously Iron Man, who was the other man, come on…"

Benji saw it then, too. A wobbly picture, to be sure, but as it steadied, he caught a glimpse of familiar features drawn into a frown of concentration just before the feed jumped again to the eye-catching red and gold of Iron Man.

Benji exchanged shocked glances with his teammates. Ethan nodded resolutely, and without another word, they left, heading for the nearest computer that Benji could use to get some answers for all of them.

Since when did William Brandt, analyst and sometimes field agent, use a bow and arrow to fight space-whale alien…beings. When?