Summary: You, Ethan and your daughter spend some quality time together the morning after a late return from a mission...

Warnings: None! Domestic!Ethan overload tho...

A/N: Hey! I know I haven't posted in a little. I've been busy starting on school. I'm Homeschooler but I still have lots of work. That's High-school for ya...well...I'll try to keep updating as I can! I love writing so never worry about me disappearing or anything! Last thing, (Y/D/N) and (Y/D/N/N) are (Your daughter's name) and (Your daughter's nickname); (Y/C/H) is your color hair. Comment what you name yours and Ethan's daughter! (I personally thought of her as Sadie or Masie, idk why) And you'll notice Ethan's pet name for your daughter is kinda random but I stole it off of something he said in the Jimmy Fallon: Madlibs Theatre because why not?

Words: 3108

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The morning is young, the sky outside the kitchen window is a soft pink, offsetting the sun as it climbs to it's throne. The moon faded with the night, and your house is still as the grave, even with such life and joy bottled inside. You cup your hands around the curve of your mug and sigh at the warmth of the ceramic. Lovely herbal fumes waft off of the freshly boiled tea. You raise the mug to your lips, blow across the surface of the honey tinted water and take a hesitant sip. When it doesn't seem hot enough to burn your tongue, you take a long drink and then set the cup back down. Gently. You wouldn't want to wake the others in your house.

Just down the hall, behind doors facing opposite to each other, your husband and daughter sleep soundly.

As you think of their sleeping forms, a smile crosses your face. You've always been an early riser, but your daughter got her lazy morning habits from her father. Your husband, Ethan, who refuses to go to bed at a healthy time and therefore sleeps the day away. He always fights to keep you there beside him, sometimes he overpowers you, others you wriggle free and start doing work around the house. Making tea, coffee, breakfast, whatever needs to be done.

Your daughter, (Y/D/N), sleeps late as well, though she doesn't mope when you shake her awake. Each morning, you or Ethan creep into her room. It never changes. The walls, painted a sunset orange, radiate comfort and safety under the intense early sun's glow. Wrapped in her purple comforter, (Y/D/N) is always curled into a tight ball, cuddling one of her many stuffed animals against her chest while her long, (Y/C/H) hair splays out around her small face. You find her that way every morning, even this very morning, before you made tea for yourself. Ethan had come back from a mission later than normal last night and he hadn't even eaten anything. He simply got undressed, took a shower and went to bed. (Y/D/N) was already tucked in. She still didn't know her daddy was back.

Knocked out cold, Ethan didn't notice you wake up.

Or if he did, he faked it well.

You take one last sip of your tea and then get up from kitchen island to rinse out the mug in the sink. You may be the morning person of the Hunt family, but you sure as Hell aren't washing any dishes at 6:20. You leave the mug among old dishes from the night before and tip toe back through the house towards (Y/D/N)'s door. Taking the doorknob carefully in your hand, you turn it and nudge the door open a sliver.

A quiet chuckle rumbles in your throat.

(Y/D/N) is in an absolute knot of her bedding. This time, her stuffed animals are clustered about her head, probably tangled in her hair. Biting your lip to keep from laughing too loud, you squeeze into her room and glide soundlessly across the carpeted floor. For all your efforts, you really don't have to try that hard not to wake (Y/N/D), she's a rock. It's almost like she loses the ability to use any of her senses once she's hit a pillow. Ethan falls asleep fast when he's at home, but he can't unwrite himself. He's an Agent, a warrior, constantly on his toes, awaiting the stroke of the enemy to fall on him, or his family. You've tried to tell him he doesn't have to be so alert at home, but your reassurances fall on his 'deaf' ears. A single sound, odd or completely within the normal, can jolt Ethan out of a dead sleep.

When (Y/D/N) was a baby, Ethan always heard her cries first.

Sometimes, if you were exhausted and didn't wake at all, he'd take care of (Y/D/N) without telling you.

It got to the point where you were noticing how weak Ethan was. He was going out on impossible missions and then getting little to no sleep, waking to (Y/D/N)'s whines throughout the night.

"Ethan," You began in a warning tone. "You can't keep doing this, honey."

"Doing what?"

"Being Mr. Hero. I've got (Y/D/N), ok? I know you want to let me sleep, and it's very honorable and chivalrous of you, but you have to get your rest. It's not me who's gonna topple off a building because I was rocking the baby at 3 a.m."

"(Y/D/N/N)...honey...wake up," You coo, brushing your fingertips over your daughter's forehead. "Baby, Daddy's home."

"Hrrgh?"

You giggle and tuck a long strand of hair behind (Y/D/N)'s ear. Her large, iridescent green eyes stare at her pillow. They're hazey from sleep, but slowly, as she gives a squeaky little yawn, they grow sharp, clear and awake. You lean towards her and press the tender kiss to the side of her head, just by the start of her tiny ear. (Y/D/N) giggles quietly and squirms under you. You smirk and dig three fingers into each of her armpits, scratching lightly enough to tickle her. A horrendous squeal, like the last cry of an ancient meerkat rips out of (Y/D/N)'s mouth as she rocks back and forth. You clamp one hand over her mouth and press a finger against your lips.

"Sowy!"

"You better be, missy," You impersonate a grumpy general as you shake a rebuking finger at her. "One more peep outta you and it's the garage you'll be sleeping in, ya hear?"

"Not the garage!" (Y/D/N) breathes, eyes widened in terror.

"Alright, alright, I'll let you go this time," You smile and give your daughter one last kiss. This time, right on the tip of her button nose. "Hey, I don't know if you heard...but Daddy came in last night while you were asleep. Want to help me make him some breakfast?"

(Y/D/N) nods eagerly. "Yeah!"

"Let's go!"

After helping free her from the rubble of her stuffed animal tower, you run hand in hand on the balls of your feet into the kitchen. (Y/D/N) picks up the kitty-stool from it's nook in the pantry and steps onto it to reach the bag of coffee. You pull out three plates, cups, and forks. Then, you turn the front left eye on the stove top to medium and slide a large pan over it. As you bustle about the kitchen prepping some scrambled eggs, you sneak a glance at your daughter. Sneak being the key word. (Y/D/N) is very particular about how she's looked at. If you do something that embarrasses her or makes her feel like she isn't being taken seriously, she gets all shy and pink faced. From your peripheral, you catch the adorable movements she makes as she sets up the coffee.

She puts a paper accordion cup into the funnell and fills it with the proper scoop of the coffee grounds. Then, she takes the cup of water from the sink and pours it into the coffee machine's tank. You leave the eggs on the stove and wander over to the beverage station where the good ol' coffee machine sits. For a moment, you hover behind (Y/D/N), watching the flick of her hair as she cleans up her mess, humming a tune to herself. You catch a bit of it, something like...

*insert mission impossible theme*

"Hey," You envelope (Y/D/N) in a hug, pressing your chest to her back. She giggles and shrinks into your form, grabbing your arms in her small, babylike hands. "What song's that?"

"Daddy's song."

"Daddy's hm? Why's that?"

(Y/D/N) tilts her head back and kisses your chin, giggling as she does. "Betause! He says he hums it in his head when he does twazy missions!"

"Crazy missions!" You gasp. "That man is silly to be humming when he should be focusing on his crazy missions."

"But he is!" (Y/D/N) insists. "He hums to fotus, he says it mates him feel tool."

"Well I think he's cool with or without his song," You reply.

"Me too!"

You poke the crown of (Y/D/N)'s head and haul her up off of the stool and into your arms. She settles comfortably at your hip and links her thin, long arms around your neck while you walk back to the stove to save the eggs from getting too crispy. Spatula in hand, you scramble the eggs, flipping them and cutting them into smaller bits. You feel your daughter's hands slip from your neck into your hair. She pulls at a few strands and starts to weave them together. It's clearly not a braid, but whatever it is, you'll happily unknot it later. Moments like these, close with your little girl, your fairy sprite, living a quiet, content life out in the country, are cherished. Especially with Ethan only just down the hall.

Even before he proposed, you knew you wanted this with Ethan.

Marriage, a family...

The best life God can give anyone.

(Y/D/N) starts humming Ethan's song again, which reminds you of the conversation by the coffee machine, which reminds you of coffee, which reminds you-

"(Y/D/N/N)?"

"Yes Mommy?"

"Who taught you how to make coffee?"

"Daddy! He said I need to know so I can make you coffee sometimes!"

You divide the eggs amongst the three plates. "So why haven't you made me any coffee yet, huh? Playing favorites are we? Somebody likes Daddy more than me?"

(Y/D/N) laughs sheepishly and wriggles around so you set her down. Together, you toast three slices of bread, butter them, and cut up some fresh strawberries. Then, you fix Ethan's coffee just the way he likes it. (Y/D/N) fishes a large tray out of the lower cabinets and you stack everything on. Your daughter carries Ethan's coffee mug in both hands and blows on it. You give her an excited smile that she returns before you quietly step down the hall and into your room. Unlike (Y/D/N)'s walls, which you painted two years back from the original beige, yours and Ethan's room is a light blue with a dark grey accent wall directly across from the foot of your large, queen sized bed. The covers are crisp, white, and currently, disheveled. They pull back enough to reveal Ethan, shirtless and in jersey shorts, laying on his back, one arm tucked beneath his pillow, the other folded over his stomach.

Much like (Y/D/N), his hair is a mess about his face.

(Y/D/N) looks up at you and giggles. Tan I jump on him? Her tiny voice whispers in the back of your head.

You roll your eyes and nod.

"Careful of the coffee!"

"Otay!"

(Y/D/N) totters around the bed to Ethan's side, sets the coffee down on his bedside table and proceeds to climb up onto the mattress, half on Ethan's middle when she rocks suddenly. Her hands push and prod at Ethan's chest. Ethan winces and lets out a groggy groan of protest.

"Wate up, Daddy! Wate uuuuuup!"

"Is that my little cookie I hear?"

"I'm here, Daddy! Wate up, wate up!"

A teasing smile plays on Ethan's lips. You snort and sit on the foot of the bed. Typical, you think, amused. He's always been the world's biggest tease.

"Daddy, open your eyes!"

"You have to prove you're my cookie first..."

(Y/D/N) huffs and sits back on her legs. She folds her hands in her lap and lifts her chin in the air. You raise your eyebrows, overcome by surprise at this 'prim and proper' stature your daughter has taken up. She takes herself too seriously for a five year old, but in a moment like this you half expected her to knee Ethan in the gut and poke him on the nose until he opened his eyes. This is definitely unexpected and sure to be amusing. You cross your legs and keep a hand on the tray for caution's sake.

""Youw mission, sould you atcept it, is to wate up and eat the delicious bweakfast we mate you. Do you atcept?""

"Ab-so-lutely," Ethan's eyes fly open and he turns to (Y/D/N) with a smile bright at the sun glaring through the two windows of your bedroom. He stretches his arms out and (Y/D/N) immediately snuggles against his chest, sighing happily as she nuzzles him with her cheek. Ethan chuckles and kisses the side of her head while a hand runs through her hair. "Good morning, (Y/D/N/N)." Ethan gently guides (Y/D/N) away from his chest and scoots up into a sitting position. He reaches his arms above his head and stretches them out. You catch his eye and smile slyly. Ethan smirks. "Good morning, beautiful."

You crawl forward on the bed and lean your face close to his, tempting him, while your smile is taunting and Ethan knows it. "Good morning," you reply, letting your nose brush his.

Ethan grins. He runs his hand up your arm and cups your face, drawing you the rest of the way until his lips mould against yours. You kiss back gladly, only pulling away because of the horrified squeak (Y/D/N) emits. Ethan laughs loudly and grabs at you, hoping for another kiss but you chuckle and shove him away.

"Ethan!"

"Baby!" Ethan whines.

"She's not a baby!" (Y/D/N) insists, peeking through the gaps in the fingers she's slapped over her eyes. "I'M your baby!"

"You're both my babies," Ethan states.

"Well we made you breakfast, because you stayed in bed...like a lazy baby," You tease.

"I'm...offended and honored."

Laughing, you reach out and grab the tray, setting it on Ethan's lap. He scans the food, a smile growing as he takes in the steaming heaps of freshly cooked eggs and the glistening butter on toast, plus the flair of red the strawberries add. Ethan nods to himself and turns to you and (Y/D/N) in turn, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

"You two made all this for me?"

"And us," You gesture to the two plates beside Ethan's.

Ethan lifts his arm up, opening a space for you at his side. You smile at him and drag yourself up against him, reclining your shoulder against his chest and laying your head back on his shoulder. You feel him wrap his arm around you. His hand settles around your forearm, large enough to cover it entirely. (Y/D/N), sitting near your knees, juts out her lower lip in a puppy-eyed pout, begging to be snuggled in with you two. Both you and Ethan laugh and beckon her forward. (Y/D/N)'s face lights up and she scrambles forward on all fours, plopping down on Ethan's right and cuddling against his shoulder with both her arms wrapped around his much larger, bulkier one. You lean up and press a quick kiss to Ethan's immaculate jawline before settling back into your current position.

A sigh escapes you...

Your eyes flutter shut...

This is...perfect.

Being here? With the two people you love most?

It's wonderful.

"WAIT!"

(Y/D/N)'s exclamation jolts you out of your reverie. You and Ethan share incredulous looks. (Y/D/N) lets go of Ethan and scoots her body around to the edge of the bed where she leans over and reaches for something. She turns around very slowly, holding something carefully in both hands. Once she faces you, you recognize what's in her hands immediately.

"I almost fowdot," (Y/D/N) admits. She peers into the dark, thick liquid and then holds the mug up like Tafikii holds Simba in the Lion King. "Coffee!"

"Coffee! You girls made me coffee too?" Ethan takes his arm from around you and readily accepts his mug. With his free hand he ruffles (Y/D/N)'s (Y/C/H) hair.

"Correction, she made you coffee," You answer. "Apparently, Daddy taught her to make coffee so she could, and I quote, "make me coffee sometimes," and yet I have not seen this girl make coffee until today."

Mid sip, Ethan's mouth hovers over the rim of his mug. His eyes double in size and his brows rise impossibly high on his forehead. He lowers his cup and directs his gob-smacked expression towards a blushing, giggly (Y/D/N). You shake your head and lean forward, gathering some eggs onto your toast with your fork. Ethan catches (Y/D/N) in one arm, jolting you slightly as you take a bite of breakfast. Ethan growls like a bear off a kid's show and (Y/D/N) squeals in childish fright, though she lays limp in her dad's hold.

"You thought you could get away with that! Playing favorites!"

"I fowdot!"

"You what now? Foe-dot? What's that?" Ethan leans his ear down to (Y/D/N)'s mouth like he missed something but she hides her face in his chest. "I think you're speaking faery, cookie."

"Fo-ur-gAWtttt." (Y/D/N) announciates.

"There we go!" Ethan draws back and claps (Y/D/N) on the shoulder. "'Atta girl!"

"We're still working on those 'r's and 'g's," You reply through a mouthful of strawberries. "But we're comin' along, right honey?"

"We'rrre COMing," (Y/D/N) agrees with a nod.

"Good, good," Ethan takes another sip of coffee. "This is the perfect temperature-"

"Betause I blew on it!" (Y/D/N) states proudly.

"You did?" Ethan gasps.

"She did," You laugh.

"Great, sharing germs, true family right here."

You and (Y/D/N) flash each other identical smiles and cozy back into each of Ethan's sides. The three of you stay like that for a while. Pressed together on your bed, the room growing brighter by the second, the blankets a tangled mess and your food randomly picked at. Ethan eventually sets his mug down and hugs you both tighter to him. You tuck your arms around his middle, resting your cheek against his collarbone. As your breathing levels out and your heart slows to a steady, soothing rhythm, you begin to feel as though you'll slip back to sleep again. Your eyes flutter and Ethan's chest rises and falls beneath your cheek. He smells amazing. A mixture of crisp linen and whatever particles of cologne linger from the day before, as well as the body wash he used last night. Just as you wish for this beautiful, comfortable silence to go on forever, you hear a soft humming that's recognizable from earlier, in the kitchen, by the coffee machine...

"Dun, dun, dun-dun, dun, dun, dun-dun -"

Ethan's hum rumbles against your face at the climax.

"Do-do dooooo, do-do doooooo, do-do doooooo -"

Now, you, having joined in the last bit, hum:

"Dun, dun, dunuhhhhhhh!"

And with that, Ethan smirks and fist-pumps your daughter.

"So you really hum that when you're on missions?"

"...yeah."

"You're ridiculous, Ethan Hunt."

"And you love it, (Y/N) Hunt. She does, right (Y/D/N/N)?"

"Wight."

"I love you both," You reply, and you mean it.