A/N: Sorry for such a long wait, Potato Overlord. (I've decided that's your new name :P)
Andrea wakes up at sunrise, the familiar weight of Eve curled up at the foot of her bed comforting, somehow. She doesn't let herself dwell on it, instead sliding out of bed, hand still on the hilt of the knife she had been clutching in her sleep underneath her pillow.
She padded into the walk-in shower, turning the cold water on and letting it beat against her back for a moment before lathering conditioner and shampoo into her scalp, thoroughly washing out her hair before shutting off the flow of water and stepping out, grabbing a towel to rub her head dry.
After that came dressing. A pair of inconspicuous blue jeans, t-shirt, and sweater. Sneakers and mismatched socks came next.
Then she made her way into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of skim milk and a bowl of quinoa and fruit. Eating her breakfast in silence, she looked around to find that she could only see Alex from where he was passed out on the couch.
Shrugging, she quickly washed her dishes by hand and deposited them back in their sperate cupboards before commencing her rounds.
Ellen was curled up in a small closet, the ends of coats just barely brushing the top of her head from where she had wedged herself. Sighing, Andrea gently took hold of her ankles and pulled her out, watching as she unfolded until she was lying on her back, fully stretched out, head still in the closet.
Derek was asleep in an armchair in the other room, head at an awkward angle. Andrea stuck a pillow under his head, wincing at the thought of the horrible crick in his neck he'd have when he woke up, and left. Derek could take care of himself.
She already knew where Eve was - safe and sound on the edge of her bed, sleeping - so she set out to find Tammy next.
The Japanese girl was lying on top of the desk in the office - mainly for doing boring as hell paperwork - and she seemed to be fine despite having her shoulders cushioned on a stack of neatly filled out incident reports. Andrea closed the door behind her as she retreated from the room.
For a moment she couldn't find Aleksander, but then she noticed the cold cup of tea left on the windowsill. Oh. That meant that he was on the roof. Oh well, he'd be back in his own time. No need to bother him.
Alright, her team was all accounted for.
She commenced her morning routine, flossing viciously and scrubbing her teeth with her toothbrush, swishing mouthwash around her gums until her breath was disturbingly minty.
Satisfied with that, she went back to the bedroom, grabbing her nondescript reinforced backpack, packing anything she needed for the day in it before zipping it up and slinging onto her back, grabbing the briefcase beside it filled with papers, and heading back into the kitchen.
One good hit to the gong in the kitchen - good god, where had they even gotten the thing? - was sufficient to alert everyone that she was leaving.
For some of them, it served as an alarm clock, for other it was a signal to get their sh*t together and get ready, and some just turned over and went back to sleep.
And then she closed the door behind her, locking it securely.
The trip to HQ was boring, to say the least.
But once she walked in, hearing security measures re-set behind her, she took a deep breath and headed to her quarters.
Slipping off her jeans and into her pants, she replaced the mismatched socks with a thin, breathable but sturdy fabric, and pulled on her ankle-high boots. She was already wearing the sports bra she put on that morning, a black one with slots for pin-sized darts and reinforced.
A thin tac vest was strapped on, and then a loose linen shirt, the ropes being fastened on next. After that, she clipped something to the side of her boots, stretching it up to attach to one of the black ropes wound around her torso on each side. It was kind of like a suspender thing, and made sure that her boots stayed on, as well as giving her added spring.
Then she shrugged her jacket on, running a hand over her cropped dark brown hair.