Clara sighed, she couldn't exactly complain much about being in a car with Eminem. However, it wasn't where she wanted or needed to be at that precise moment in time. She was grateful that he had offered to let her stay in a spare room at his house, but again she would rather not be copped up in a bedroom.

Clara did, however, need to be at the hotel that had just burned down. There was no way she was going to get anywhere close to it that night. Hence the rather loud sigh she had emitted. Marshall must have heard it, but he didn't say anything, instead, he kept his eyes on the road only glancing over at her a few times.

''Can I ask you a question?'' The silence was killing her and there was one burning question in the back of the mind which had been bothering her ever since she was given the brief for the mission.

''Shoot,'' Marshall replied, slowing the car as they came up to a set of traffic lights. There wasn't long left of the ride, Clara could tell from the estimated arrival time on the sat nav that Marshall had on.

''Why do you want a PA? I've been thinking about it and realised you've never really had one before, so why now?'' Clara asked she turned to be met with the side of his head as he didn't even look over at her when he answered.

''Paul's idea. He said it'd be good for stress or some shit. To be honest, that's something you gotta ask him not me,'' Marshall finished with a shrug, slowing the car down again.

This time Clara noticed that they'd come up to a set of metal remote controled/ sensored gates which swung open on their approach. She guessed he didn't need ID to get into his own estate. They rolled along the long gravel driveway until Marshall finally pulled up into the garage, which was situated right around the back of the main house.

''Welcome,'' Marshall spoke pulling out his key, tugging his seatbelt off and then finally getting out of the car.

Clara followed suit, closing the door softly behind her. It was an expensive car, plus she had no idea if he was one of those that got annoyed when you slammed the car doors. She then made her way around the back of the car to join him as he pulled her suitcase and the rest of her hand luggage out of the boot.

''Yo I'll carry it up. Gotta show you to your room anyway,'' he mumbled and before she could protest he'd taken her bags, wandering through a side door which connected, Clara assumed, the rest of the house to the garage.

Without another word, she followed him out and down a little bit of a hallway before they came to, what appeared to be the main entryway to the house. There was no time for her to ask any questions as Marshall had already begun to climb up a flight of stairs, and Clara was worried that if she fell too far behind him then she'd get lost.

The second floor was a lot simpler than the main one, Clara found it a great help that he had labelled the rooms which belonged to his daughters. The rooms that were labelled gave Clara the confidence that when it came to finding her room by  herself later, she could make sure she was going in the right direction. It also meant that it would be unlikely she'd stumble into the girls rooms by accident.

''Here we are,'' Marshall halted abruptly in front of a pale white door, placing her bags down by his feet as he pulled out a key. A key she hadn't seen him pick up at all.

Clara noted while he fiddled with the lock, that the room was opposite another pale white doored one; which bore the name Whitney in gold letters on a little silver plaque. She also made a note that it was next to the bathroom, she could tell because the door was slightly ajar, the sink she spotted giving it away. On the other side, there was another door, this one without a plaque or any sort of sign that indicated what room it may be.

''Thanks,'' Clara said to him once he'd finally managed to get the door open. She thanked him again as he brought her bags into the room placing them on the bed for her. Clara couldn't deny that he was trying to as gentlemanly as possible, even if it did appear that he may be trying a little too hard to be polite.

''Um, so anything specific you want for dinner or,'' Clara hid her smile as she listened to Marshall stumble over his words as he worked out what to say.

''Order or cook anything you want I don't mind. I'll eat most things,'' she replied unzipping her suitcase so that she could take out the stuff she'd need for the bathroom. If Marshall was ordering food, that meant it would be good if she joined him, but not without taking a shower first.

''Ok, I'll let got sorted,'' she saw a hint of a smile on his lips as she gave him one back, ''oh and Whitney's around somewhere. Just so you know,'' with that last comment he left closing the door quietly behind him.

Finally, alone Clara took a quick shower, changing into some more comfortable clothing before she laid spread-eagled across the kingsized bed. She was already exhausted and she'd hardly actually done anything. while she lay down, not wanting to move from the bed because it was so soft, she contemplated whether to ring Rose and ask how her first day with Fifty had been. That decision was made for her two seconds later as her phone started to ring, Rose's name popping up on the screen.

''Hey, how's Mr Jackson treating you?'' Clara answered the phone in a joking manner. Although from the huff she received from the other end was anything to go by, Rose wasn't in a joking mood.

''He's ok I guess. A bit of a flirt, really stubborn, but I guess it could be worse,'' Rose replied honestly and Clara nodded her head along, even though she was aware Rose couldn't see her, ''how's Mr Mathers. If we're asking about our new bosses.''

''He's fine a little shyer than I imaged but seems a decent guy. I'm in his house right now so...''

''What? He getting it on with you that fast. Lucky bitch,'' Clara could help but burst out laughing at her friend's speedy accusation.

''Whoa, my hotel burnt down I'm staying in one of his spare rooms,'' she explained.

''Ok I believe you,'' Clara rolled her eyes at the teasing tone Rose used, ''oh and I did know about the hotel, Miranda contacted me and told me to be extra careful. She thinks it was done on purpose,'' Rose added and Clara was grateful for the subject change.

''Yeah I gotta go check it out at some point. Hopefully, I get a lunch break for an hour or two so I can scout it out,'' Clara informed Rose of her plan of which the fellow agent seemed to agree.

Rose was about to talk about her own plans she was working on to do with Curtis, but a soft tentative knock at Clara's bedroom door, made her cut the call. Slowly she reached out to open the door, to come face to face with what appeared to be an eight or nine-year-old girl, with longish blonde hair and glasses perched atop her nose.

''You must be Whitney,'' the girl nodded, her head tilted up a little so she could look at Clara.

''Dad told me to come to get you. The food he ordered is here,'' Whitney finished with a little smile as she reached out her hand for Clara to take. Clara without hesitation placed her hand in Whitney's small one allowing her to guide her down the hall, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

''Ah thanks Whit,'' Whitney let go of Clara's hand and hurried over to Marshall to help him set the plates down around the little kitchen island. With his eyes still very much watching Whitney's every move, Marshall addressed Clara, ''hope chinese is ok. It was Whit's choice in the end.''

''It's perfect,'' Clara replied, which earned another beaming smile from his daughter, who gestured for Clara to sit down next to her.

It was at that moment that Clara became aware that if it came down to saving Marshall's life she was going to do it for his daughters and not just because the government had ordered her to.