Title: Breaching The Fourth Wall
Author: diayang
Rating: K
Pairing: Implied Ghost/Roach.
Summary: They sit, they drink, and they talk. With innuendo.
Disclaimer: Call of Duty:Modern Warfare 2 (c) Infinity Ward
A/N: DOING THIS BECAUSE I CAN, BAWWW SOB SOB and all of that. =3=
"I know, mate. I know they're out there, all of them, just... just usin' us. Terrifying, you really sit down and think about it. Like we're nothin'..."
"Aye, Ghost, I know that. I know that. Bloody well eats at me. Same as it does you." Soap cut him off with a snort and a discontented rumble, puffing away at one of his infamous cigars. "But what can you do? There's a war we're fightin' here, Ghost, and they're the least of our worries."
"Sage words, from a bastard," Ghost jabbed, deftly avoiding his CO's half-hearted kick under the table. His gloved hand was cupped around a fairly clean glass, the Scotch gleaming amber in the dim light. It was rare for the lieutenant to be quietly seated with MacTavish instead of raising hell with the rest of the task force, and even rarer for him to be drinking, but the circumstances called for it.
"Says the pot. We'll get to that in due time."
Ghost peered up at him from tired blue eyes, then shook his head. "For all I know these'll be tenacious little freaks. God, you'd think they'd have a little more respect or the brainpower to not step into a firefight screaming like banshees and carryin' on like they hadn't an ounce of sense, but - "
"That's puttin' it lightly, mate, you saying 'carrying on'. Bloody near had meself a heart attack. Cleared the area myself, there were no civvies there, not a single one left."
"Begs the question of just where the fuck these addlebrained zombies spring out from, eh, Soap?"
Watching him with hooded eyes, Soap ground out the cigar, expelling a steady stream of smoke that disguised a weary sigh.
"Feel free to speculate but don't you be fillin' Roach's impressionable little mind with stories like that, eh? No tellin' what we're going to find him up to next."
"Aw, Captain. You wound me." Ghost's shrug was careless, his eyes amused, and his leer slightly less than savory. "Now that his mind's off-limits I'm just going to have to find some other thing to fill."
"Don't break him. 'm serious, mate." He levelled a steady glare onto his unrepentant XO, emphasising the point with a jab of his finger. "Big enough a pain in the arse gettin' a new FNG out, much less one of Roach's calibre."
"He can't jump."
Soap shrugged. "Makes up for it by being one lucky son of a bitch."