Disclaimer: I do not own Metal Gear Solid or any of the original characters in it.

"Snake here, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Snake."

"Great" He grit his teeth before continuing. "It's like hell froze over out here. Why the delay with the nanomachines? I thought they were in that shot you gave me".

Barlow laughed, and Snake's mood reached a new low. "Ah, but they were. They're just, well, as you said: delayed. For a very good reason."

Snake frowned and took a good glance at his surroundings to ensure his safety. "Which is?"

A long lasting silence ensued, and Snake almost thought he had been disconnected from the line, and he was about to get beyond pissed.

"There's a new program available to the terrorists. It makes it rather simple for them to set up a perimeter, which has a border that will trigger an alarm, if you have alien nanomachines in your blood. All nanomachines are detectable, and we have yet to find a way to properly conceal our nanomachines from this new technology. We lost two soldiers on an OP just last week because of that crap."

Snake cursed and disconnected having gotten what he wanted, but he was soon called again.

"Thom, I know what the hell I'm doing out here, stop calling me or I'll be spotted. If these guys are half as good as you said they were..." His hairs stood up from his neck and he twisted his upper body a perfect 180°. All clear.

"So you do not want to know about their elite unit, who has just recieved information about your arrival, I hear."

"What?" He stopped in his tracks, hid behind a barrel and pulled out his gun. "Information was leaked?"

"Seems like it," A tone in his voice indicated that he did not care much at all, getting Snake very concearned. How was this not important to the success of the assignment?

"You need to proceed with caution. There are only 3 of those elite units, but combined they have the skills of a hundred soldiers combined"

'Great' Snake supported his head with one, restless hand. Not only had he quite possibly been severely compromized by some random double-crosser; he had to take care of people who actually really knew what they were doing.

"Manami, Akagi and Kocchi."

Snake frowned. "Japanese?" He peeped out from the barrel. 2 sentries, patrolling the area, carrying what looked like M4s.

"By nicknames, yes. They're Americans. You won't see them alone, they always work in a unit of three; tracker, attacker and defender. Manami stalks and watches with extreme stealth, Akagi fiercely attacks and Kocchi defends them both, making it nearly impossible to counterattack. Snake...just watch your back out there, alright?"

"Got it."

He disconnected, staring out from his position again, running out as he saw the path was clear. The barrel of his weapon was precariously trained straight down his hip as he trotted down the path that would lead him to his goal.

"5:30 AM."

There was no mistaking the green-glowing numbers on the alarm-clock standing on her nighttable. Her body felt positively exhausted and she longed for rest, yet she just couldn't seem to properly fall asleep. It had been a long day to say the least, and an even longer night. Apparently, forcing what felt like gallons of vodka down, wasn't at all as hard as she'd imagined. Perhaps she needed it? Getting filled with alcohol until she could barely move or think. Pushing herself out on that dancefloor with strangers who stared at places on her bodies she'd very carefully tried to tone down...punching them and staggering home, barely able to keep her eyes open, maybe these things, these incredibely stupid actions, everyone her age did that, right? So why the hell did it feel so wrong?

She shifted in her bed, punching her pillow and throwing her head back down on it, not at all pleased. The pillow wasn't the problem. She then suddenly realised something.

It had been her birthday for more than 5 hours now. The fact was, she was only 21, but it felt a lot more like she was turning 80.

Still unable to sleep, she suddenly felt a strange, tempting urge to punch herself. It was far from the first time, and normally she would leave it at that, but obviously doing everything you normally wouldn't do was part of being as drunk as a sailor. It took about a minute for her to feel how much it actually hurt, and when she did, and flinched with a little sob, she dragged herself out in the bathroom. She didn't bother to turn on the lights, and fumbling with her hands, drunk in the blackness, she took a tumble. She stumbled over her shoes that she had left there along with her clothes from last night, which she had hastily torn off and forgotten about. She cursed and grit her teeth, grabbing her hurting foot. Out of the blue, tears appeared in her eyes, and she understood clearly it had nothing to do with her foot or the throbbing in her face, the feeling of her fist connecting with her nose still lingering like a warm circle of pain.

Snake had brought her out to drink once, it was before they were a couple, in fact they had not even kissed yet. Some found it strange, but to them it seemed almost impossible to give into such a basic desire. One minute, you stand there, gun in your hand and with everything to lose, most likely your life. During such a time, a kiss was nothing compared to the fate soldiers like them could be meeting. But after the fights, after the pain, the melancholy and fear, it was much, much harder to give in to such a feeling as love. Strangely enough, standing beside him felt like being miles apart, unlike when on a mission, where she felt like they were melted together and when they felt more alive, more like one than ever before.

She recalled the warm fuzzy feeling of a sweet memory in her head, loving it with longing as she cried a bit more with every second passing. He wasn't a regular at that place, small and cozy with purple candlelights in every corner, glowing in the otherwise dark room, the light licking the baroque-inspired wallpaper like loving, yellow tongues. But to drinking, he was just that. She wasn't legal at that time, and he had not at all tried to push anything on her, just looked at her with "You can do what you want, I'll help you out" written in his scarily understanding eyes, when she had made the suggestion. Her father bore that same look, but with much less honesty. Dave's face surely often lied, trained to do so, and he did with superb skill, but his eyes spoke more than the truth. They were pieces of glass, shining attractively, pulling her into him and telling her things he most likely didn't even know about himself. He had no idea. Meryl smiled faintly and felt the moist of her tears slithering into the corners of her mouth. She fell completely into that memory now, leaning down with her hands planted at the cold floor.

She was glowing with the fact that she was extremely uncomfortable, wearing a black halterneck top, leaving little to one's fantasy, and a brown, pleated plaid miniskirt. She was bold that day, wanting to try out things she had half despised, half dreamed about. She knew it was mostly because of the man, who was right behind her, but not even his presence was enough to calm her down. David was looking so casual, yet stylish and God, so hot. His brown hair had turned into a mullet, and he had got himself a stubby face, which suited him so surprisingly well. His skin, especially his face was radiant, such a huge contrast to when he was on a mission. He was wearing black pants and a plain, white shirt, underneath his brown, leather jacket. He entered right after her, but seeing her stop in her tracks he smiled, grabbed her by her shoulders and leaned in to whisper "don't worry, I'll handle it".

She watched the 34-old, with a look of being insulted on her face, as he took off his jacket, walking up to the bartender as if he lived there, saying a few words to him that she couldn't hear. At first, the bartender shook his head, pointing towards the door and she, feeling overwhelmed with shame, started walking towards it. However, David called her back, and she, reluctantly, turned around and walked up to him, not looking at the bartender. "Ok? Just for tonight. Thanks." When she looked at David, her eyes wide, he looked as if he avoided her gaze on purpose. He held a glass in his hand, drinking from it. By the smell of it, she guessed whiskey, the one thing she knew how looked and absolutely hated. Soft, jazzy music was playing and a womans husky voice sang words of love and complications; Meryl found that strange, since her perception of these places were that, it was a shelter for middle-aged men, not wanting to be confronted with demanding wives and certainly not love. "Don't you want anything?"

She looked up at him, blushing when she saw him, how his eyes paid her all of his attention He was beyond sexy, tempting and he seemed so out of her league, in so many ways that it nearly made her close her eyes in self-disgust. He was perfect.

"Yeah," she nearly whispered, and she cleared her throat. "White wine...please."

She must've ordered something stupid, she thought to herself, as she could faintly see David's lips creep into a smile while he drank more of his disgusting, ochre colored drink. He then pulled out a cigarette, asking her to light it, but she laughed. "I told you to quit, and you ask me to light it? God grief, David." she snickered and so did he. She drank a little of her wine, wishing dearly that it had been pepsi. "Meryl. How're you ever going to handle heavier stuff when you can't drink wine without looking like you've bitten a lemon?"

"Well excuse me, mister hardened veteran" she said scornfully, making him look at her in such a way that she for a second or two, forgot completely what she was about to say. "You know, if I was used to this, there would be something seriously wrong. I'm-" she was seconds away from saying "only 19 goddamnit", but chose not to, after stealing a glimpse of the bartender. He was listening in, trying to disguise his interest in them and their conversation by intensely cleaning glasses.

"He knows", David face was blank, as he was staring down at his glass, rotating his glass with his hand. "Your dad here took care of that."

"You...my-what? You did what?" She whispered that, but David still hushed her. "Don't worry, there are loads of other places we can go to, I never come here anyway. Only reason I chose this place, was because I hate it, and I was pretty sure this was coming."

That made her feel stupid, how obvious was that? Feeling a firm hand clasping hers, where the bartender could not see, she blushed, and quickly turned her face from both her "daddy" and the growingly suspicious bartender. "There's just one downside to that." He continued, his voice trailing off. She pretended to wonder what that was, but was pretty sure she knew what he meant. She moved closer to him.

"Thanks for doing that for me." She said softly, her voice almost too low for David to hear. "If he calls the police-"

"He won't. Trust me." He put on an one of those expressions that was impossible for her to read, but she did as he told her to, for once.

"How're O- Hal doing?" She wanted to get a conversation going; just sitting there, staring, well that wasn't what she wanted to do. She didn't want to bore David, no, the best she knew was when she made him look interested, wanting to talk and look at her, spend time in her company. It made her feel wanted. Desired. Needed.

"He's just fine. He keeps talking about this new program that he has to track, you know what. Supposedly it uh- saves more...rim. Or rom. Yeah, something like that." He grinned "I have no idea what he's talking about 80 percent of the time he's talking, because 60 percent of the time it's about computers and the last 20 percent is about animé."

Meryl laughed, perhaps a little too loud, but she hated keeping a lid on herself and ignored the bartender, now, walking off behind the curtain covering the backside of the bar. "I like him."

David's smile vanished a little and he spoke with a stronger voice. "Yeah, me too. He's a great guy."

Meryl finished off the last drops of her wine, trying to keep a straight face, but failed. Dave laughed.

How could he be so beautiful? Without thinking, she leaned forward, biting her lower lip as she locked her eyes into his irises.

"Snake" She whispered, as silent as ever. He looked more than surprised, she had used his codename, and he'd so strictly told her not to. But the way she said it, the word ringing with affection...he looked at her lips from where the words had emerged, wanting to touch them so that he could keep the feeling stored in his fingertips forever.

She remembered that night so clearly, she found it strange that she could have been as drunk as Snake said. They had walked into another bar that night, and lastly stopped by at Hal's apartment, warmly greeted by his smile, followed by tons of liqour and laughter. She remembered how Snake and Hal had been laughing and joking, and when she had felt the most like she didn't excist, she walked off into the kitchen.

She grabbed a glass from the top drawer, with much effort, sighing as she filled it with cold water from the faucet. She drank it, feeling much less dizzy already.

The door was opened with some force, and into the kitchen came David, looking pissed. "Damn Otacon, knows all the goddamned answers for the questions in Trivia Pursuit". Meryl smiled heartily. They used Trivia Pursuit as a drinking game, each time a question was answered correctly the other had to knock back a shot of tequila. But Dave didn't stand a chance, even less when drunk. She knew he could take a lot of alcohol, and she had never seen him really being drunk before. He didn't stagger at all, neither did he sway, he stood perfectly still and had control of his body's movements, but his eyes, as always, gave him away.

"You've played that game once to many times, and you always read the cards sideways." He sat himself down on chair, and she leaned in over the kitchen table, cleaning it with a rag. "You give yourself away when you're drunk."

He stiffened, his hand instantely reaching for his chin, and he touched it like he was pondering heavily over something, but he remained silent.

"It's your eyes." Her smile grew larger. He grabbed her arm, and it was so swift that she gave a little gasp. Was he really drunk at all? She looked into his eyes and her smile grew a bit fainter. Yup, most definitely drunk.

"Otacon doesn't look into my eyes the same way you do. I know how well you look into me and find all those feelings I'm trying so damn hard to hide. It's not my eyes Meryl. It's you who know how to read people," he explained. "You're too good at it, it scares me like hell, I wanna run out of the room everytime you do that little trick. You read me so damn well, it's completely unbearable."

What the hell? What was this sudden honesty, so straightforward and blunt? It was so shocking to her that she didn't even her Hal entering the room, nor his slightly shaking voice when he uttered a small "Sorry" then left and closed the door. Snake was looking at her, almost like he was pissed at her now.

"Snake, don't be like that..." she tried pulling her arm from him, but he held her, harder, tougher. His hand was cold as ice, and so were his eyes, though glaced with an emotion she had never seen there before. It frightened her. "Snake, let go, please. Please." But he was far from letting go, when she pleaded him it was like her voice goaded him even further, convincing him it was more than right to hold onto her.

"Hell no. I'll never let go of you, Meryl. I want you."

Why did he have to be so frank? If he at least kept it in his eyes, she could read him like that and pretend she didn't know what he was thinking. But he was spilling it all out now, and he knew she wasn't deaf, god it was unbearable. She was about to plead him again, when he pulled her down to his lips, and engulfed her body and mind in flames, as he kissed her with passion so desired by her, that she almost screamed into his mouth with joy, and filled her eyes with stingy tears of a bliss she had only dared to dream about. His tongue then entered her mouth, as he massaged the back of her neck with his hand, as if he held her head in place to prevent her from breaking off the kiss, and she thought it felt so good it was impossible not to kiss him back, hungrily opening her mouth even more. Her rose from the chair, mouth still locked onto hers. He towered over her, even though she was a tall woman he was even taller. His body closed in on hers, until there were no more inches between them, no more needless space. He broke the kiss suddenly and she was almost flabbergasted, but he brought her into his world again only seconds later with an even deeper kiss. She closed her eyes even tighter, wanting to melt away in his arms until she didn't have to hold up her own body. She'd much prefer it if he would carry her within him forever.

When she pulled away from the last kiss, they were both flushed and felt each others breath tickle their throbbing lips. He had held her by her waist, but hastily let go when she had pulled back, and the thought that she might have done something wrong fell down upon her like a huge rock of regret. Something was wrong, something between them. Something she had done?

"Snake, I-"

But before she could apologize, the man that she wanted no more than to kiss her again, left the room hastily, long before she could blink twice