Hello everyone! :D I have another chapter for you :) Yes, I know that the previous chapter was a bit rushed and I know that it's taking me a long time to update. I'm fitting in a few sentences between my tasks.
Here we go :D
6 months later...
MacTavish was enjoying a cigar at Wallace Park, a few minutes' walk from his home in Elgin. He had travelled back to Scotland the morning after Ghost's wedding. As he had no business back in America and was on temporary leave from the SAS, he decided to spend his free time at home. He used to spend most of his teen years in that particular park, running around with his mates, and throwing rocks at the lake which would scare off the poor ducks. He could not stop grinning; those were simpler times. Now there he was, all alone with the ducks he used to scare away, to keep him company.
Children were playing football with their fathers caught his eye in particular, and he did not know why. He felt his throat dry and it was not because of the cigar. He never thought he would find himself in that position, thinking about the possibility of having a family. It was probably the fact of his near misses with death in the last war, which were still fresh on his mind.
His thoughts were soon interrupted as he felt the bench he was sitting on sag under the weight of an added person. He groaned inwardly. From all the empty benches, this person decided to sit near him. He ignored the intrusion and continued smoking. After a while, the silence was interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Hey MacTavish."
MacTavish snapped his neck to the side with his mouth slightly gaping open. There she was, her light brown hair flowing with the wind, a cigarette barely held by her lips, donning a white t-shirt and jeans jacket over black leggings and brown combat boots. He held his sunglasses up for a moment to check if he was hallucinating.
"Malloy," he greeted, trying not to seem overwhelmed by her sudden appearance, "it's been a long time since I last saw you. What have you been up to?"
"Not much," she replied. "Do you have a light?"
He tossed her his zippo and she lit up her cigarette.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, her appearance still looked surreal to him.
"I'm on vacation," she said, inhaling deeply. "A bit of fresh air always helps and what better place than the highlands?"
"From all of the countries in the world you chose Scotland?"
"Why not?"
"And from all the places in Scotland, you chose Elgin, my hometown."
She shrugged indifferently.
"You were right Soap. This place is beautiful. I wanted to check it out for myself. Is something wrong?"
It was his turn to shrug.
"I am here to see someone I knew from way back; an old mate. He was such a gentlemen," she said, smiling to herself. "You can join us if you want. We'll be meeting at the Dark Horse near Lhanbryde at nineteen hundred hours."
"Wait," he said hurriedly as she got up, "you drove ten minutes to come to this park where there are perfectly lovely woods at Lhanbryde?"
"Will you come or not?"
"To see you get with an old lad from your past? Thanks but no thanks," he replied gruffly.
"Suit yourself," she said and walked away.
What the hell just happened? He wanted to crush what was left from his cigar and throw it in the lake. She dropped out of the sky just to tell him that she was meeting with an old boyfriend. Startled, he furrowed his brow, thinking that maybe she was meeting with a man she used to work with at the CIA and she was there to obtain intel on a particular mission.
I swear, this woman will be the death of me, he fumed.
Simon was scrambling some eggs in his kitchen in Ledbury. It was seven in the morning and the air was chilly. He glanced outside the window as he was whisking the eggs away, and grey clouds greeted him. He was used to that kind of weather, however Charlene was still getting used to it. England was not known for its sunny days but that did not bother him. What troubled him was that Charlene may not have been fully comfortable with this huge move. Everything was different between England and America – from the metric system to driving on the right side of the road to minor issues such as the definition of 'fries' and 'chips'.
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard feet shuffling behind him.
"Simon, is everything alright?" asked Charlene, a bit puzzled as she observed how pensive her husband looked.
"Yes love, I'm fine."
He grabbed the pan and divided the scrambled eggs equally into two plates near the bacon and the sausages.
"That smells great," she beamed as she took a seat at the table.
Simon served the breakfast and noticed that Charlene was clutching her woollen robe as close to her as possible.
"It will get warmer don't worry," he chuckled.
"I can't believe how cold it is in the morning," she said. "I mean it is April not December."
"You'll get used to it," he replied. I hope.
He looked around and could not help but smile. The house was not much; a small entrance hall with a cosy living room decorated with a wood fireplace. Next to the living room there was the shower room and at the end of the corridor there was a white kitchen with grey marble-style tiles with a round table in the middle. The back door led to an inviting yard with lush green grass and colourful flowers, mostly roses, hibiscus and small bushes. Upstairs, there were the main bedroom, a bathroom, a study and two bedrooms that were currently empty.
The telephone rang and they looked at each other, puzzled. Who was calling at twenty past seven in the morning?
"I'll get it."
Charlene went for the telephone in the corner of the kitchen and picked it up.
"Hello? ... Yes, it is... One moment please."
She motioned Simon to get to the telephone.
After curt replies and worried looks, he finally hung up. He groaned and downed his orange juice in one gulp.
"What is it?" asked Charlene, concerned.
"I need to get to the base."
"What? But you're on leave!" she protested.
"Not anymore, something's come up."
Simon rushed inside headquarters to the office of his new Commanding Officer. Major Harry Cleese was not fond of tardiness and if he needed his man at 0800 hours then he needed to be there on time, not a minute early not a minute late. He straightened his tan beret and made sure that his uniform was in line. He paused in front of his office and looked at his watch. 0759 hours... 0800 hours. Simon knocked three times and waited and a gruff voice sounded from the other side.
"Enter!"
Simon opened the door and marched inside. He saluted the Major and stood at attention.
"Lieutenant Riley reporting for duty sir!"
"At ease Lietuenant," he ordered, his nose buried in papers. "A situation has developed in South America, specifically Ecuador. A drug cartel has been making a lot of noise and I want you to go and take a look at it."
He put the papers in the file and passed it on to Simon.
"Walk with me."
They walked along the hallway with Riley trying to keep up with the Major while scanning the documents he had just been given.
"Name is Pedro Vela. Arsehole has been smuggling drugs into the UK and that is unacceptable."
"Sir, since when is the SAS taking care of drug smuggling?"
"Since they decided to ship armaments along with the drugs and run a terrorist cell in the UK."
"That's not good."
"No, it is not. I have assigned you a team. Your mission is to gather intel on Vela and his gang or whatever it is they are called," he said, waving his hand around. "You will be leaving to Ecuador in five hours."
"How long will we be staying there sir?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"For as long as it is needed Riley."
It was fifteen past seven and MacTavish was looking at himself in the mirror. He wore a black shirt and jeans. He was indecisive about Malloy's invitation. He tried to convince himself that he did not care about her but something was itching him. The thought of Malloy meeting up with someone from her past made him angry, especially if that someone was an agent as well.
"Damn it! Damn all of it!" he yelled frustrated.
He paused for a moment and then snatched the car keys and stormed outside, still not convinced that he was doing the right thing.
His tires screeched as he parked a few metres away and walked to the pub. He had been there a few times before; he used to meet his mates from the 22nd at the Dark Horse for a few pints either before deploying or to celebrate their return. The fact that the pub was usually attended by soldiers made him feel uneasy. He hoped that he would not see any familiar faces.
He opened the door and the stuffiness hit him instantly. The air was full of people talking loudly and laughter echoed throughout the pub. He went to the bar and bought a pint. A woman giggling on the other side of the room caught his eye immediately. He walked over there with a grin on his face.
"Malloy," he said, curtly.
He stopped abruptly and observed the man who was laughing with her. He mentally smacked himself in the head and could not help feel a bit embarrassed. When Lisa said she was going to meet an old friend, she literally meant an old friend. The man she was laughing with was approximately sixty years old. He had white tuft of hair on the sides of his head. The deep wrinkles on his face were an exhibit of how much he had been through. His hands holding the beer showed calluses and scars.
"MacTavish! You came!" she grinned.
He nodded curtly as a reply.
"I'd like you to meet retired Major George Jenkins. Ex-SAS; he used to work with my father and John Price."
"When dinosaurs were still around!" he chuckled and offered his hand which MacTavish gladly shook. His handshake was as strong as his voice.
MacTavish put his beer down and sat near Malloy. Jenkins' icy grey eyes rested on him, observing each move and glance MacTavish would make.
"Lisa here told me that you're SAS," he said. "You should be at home here."
He shifted uneasily in his seat and smiled nervously. He had passed enjoyable times with his mates in that place. However, he did go through a couple of unpleasant experiences where it would usually include a few punches and broken jaws.
"Aye sir, I am."
Jenkins started talking about the mess and trouble he and Price would get into. He narrated in a way that he would not tell them where the place would be or the mission. MacTavish was feeling nostalgic as he would remember himself and his mates doing that. They would discuss the essentials and share what was on their mind and what they had experienced without revealing any extra information.
Even though Jenkins and Malloy were laughing and looked at ease, he felt uncomfortable. Something was squeezing his stomach in a tight knot. He stole a glance at Malloy and just noticed that she was wearing a tight, black dress which was a bit revealing. His throat felt dry as the image of her toned legs was stamped in his mind. His heart started to race as he glanced at her cleavage. It was a mistake going to that pub. He was recovering well from forgetting what he had gone through with her and that was all lost in a heartbeat.
MacTavish downed his beer and stared aimlessly around.
"Let me buy us another round!" yelled Malloy cheerfully and walked to the bar.
As she walked away, MacTavish glimpsed at her behind.
Bloody hell John, get it under control! he argued, forcing himself to look away.
"So, MacTavish," growled Jenkins, "for how long were you and Lisa together?"
"S-sir?" he stuttered, caught by surprise.
"Oh come on," he laughed, "you didn't think I wouldn't notice did ya?"
MacTavish dropped his gaze and chose not to reply. That knot in his stomach was getting tighter and tighter.
Jenkins' gaze softened and smirked. "What I'm trying to tell you is; don't wait for too long or someone else might stoop in and take 'er. A woman like her won't remain on the shelf for too long."
He nudged his head in the direction of the bar and MacTavish looked. A handsome and quite attractive man was chatting her up. He had a military haircut and dog tags dangling from his neck. He growled and narrowed his eyes. He dashed to the bar and approached Malloy.
"Lisa, do you need help?" he asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
"Hey mate can't you see we're talkin'?" the man said in an unrecognisable Scottish accent. He sounded disgruntled but MacTavish did not care in the least.
"Can't you see that I don't care, mate," he replied indifferently.
"Watchu say?!" he said in an aggressive tone.
"Enough," interjected Malloy, sounding worried. "Come on, let's go."
They sat back down with another pint in front of them. After some more stories and laughs, Jenkins bid them goodbye.
"Already?" asked Malloy disappointed.
"The wife will have me head if I don't show up at home," he chuckled. "Enjoy life while you can!"
Without Jenkins around, the douche soldier came back again.
"Hey love, wanna continue our conversation back at my place?" he winked.
Before Malloy could open her mouth she felt an arm around her.
"Maybe you did not understand me before," said MacTavish with feigned worriedness. "The lady is with me."
"As if she's with a mucker like you," he grunted.
MacTavish got up and walked up to him, their faces a few inches apart.
"Listen, we could take this outside but I am really not in the mood to break your face. So why don't you take your pretty face somewhere else aye? This lady is taken."
The douche soldier turned to Malloy, "I am here often love if you need to experience a real man."
She turned to MacTavish and raised her eyebrows at him.
"What?"
"I am with you now? As I recall correctly, you did not even want to be here."
He gazed at his beer choosing his next words carefully.
"Can you blame me? I thought you were here to gather intel or something like that."
She looked perplexed.
"MacTavish, if you remember correctly I was discharged from the Army."
"I am talking about the Agency Lisa."
She sat there with her mouth gaping open at a loss for words. "What?"
He looked around and came closer to her and spoke softly in her ear. "Do not deny this Lisa. I saw you with Nielson at Ghost's wedding."
"I was returning the badge," she murmured in reply.
"Aye, so that Nielson can renew it for you."
"Again… what?"
He looked at her thinking that she was taking the piss but she looked genuinely puzzled.
"So you're not back with the CIA?"
"Of course not! I declined the offer."
He moved back and stared at her for a moment. He burst out laughing and raised his glass. She kept looking at him, baffled at this sudden outburst.
"My mistake," he admitted, still laughing.
Malloy kept looking at him with her eyebrow raised.
"You're an idiot," she laughed.
He looked at her shocked, the smile still etched in his face.
"I admit, I am."
"Whoa! Whoa! You admitted that you were mistaken and an idiot in less than a minute? Are you feeling sick?"
He winked at her and continued to drink his beer. The knot in his stomach was becoming to untie and he felt lighter.
Maybe she won't be the death of me after all, he chuckled.
Malloy and MacTavish got out the pub laughing loudly and trying to walk as straight as possible. He tried to focus on his car keys but dropped them on the floor. Slowly, he stooped down to grab them but nearly fell over. Malloy grabbed him just in time preventing MacTavish falling face first into the ground.
"No way you are going to drive home," she said in a serious tone. "Listen, I'm staying nearby. Why don't you crash at my place and then drive tomorrow?"
He looked at her and started chuckling.
"Are you taking advantage of a drunk man? Tsk tsk Malloy, you are a naughty girl," he slurred.
She slapped him on the back playfully.
"Shut up you idiot! I am trying to help you," she grabbed his arm and put it around her shoulder. Her body sagged under his weight.
Malloy struggled to reach for keys inside her pocket. She did not know how she managed to carry him for two blocks. She dropped on the sofa and made her way to her bedroom to get some sleep.
The next morning, MacTavish opened his eyes slowly. He felt his head pounding and the piercing, bright light was not helping. He looked down and noticed that his shirt was missing. Baffled, he looked around but could not find it. The door opposite opened and Malloy was in the doorway wearing a t-shirt and shorts. His eyes travelled over her body without helping it.
"Good morning," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
"Mornin'," he replied.
"Where is your shirt?" she asked.
"I must have felt warm and just took it off and threw it somewhere."
He walked towards the counter to the kitchenette and could not help notice that Malloy was eyeing him as well.
"Would you like some tea?"
"Aye, thanks."
She poured some water inside the kettle and lit it up.
"Why are you really here?" he said, unexpectedly.
She turned around and saw that MacTavish was dead serious. He had that look in his eyes that sent shivers down her spine and not in a positive way.
"I already told you -"
"Cut the bollocks," he said firmly.
"I don't know what you mean."
"You know exactly what I mean!" he said, raising his voice. "Why in the bloody hell did you come here?"
She stood frozen, her heart beating in her throat not knowing how to reply or maybe not wanting to reply. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Her palms were starting to sweat and she looked anywhere in the room to avoid his gaze.
"Answer me!" he roared.
"Because I still love you okay?!" she yelled back with tears in her eyes.
MacTavish was taken aback by this sudden outburst and mostly by her reply. She looked away, embarrassed of her confession. The room was as silent as the dead. Nothing and nobody moved. He kept gazing at her but she continued to refuse to look at him. She broke the silence by clearing her throat.
"I'm going to take a shower," she said in a small voice. "You can leave if you wish. You are not obliged to stay here."
She dragged her feet back to her room and closed the door behind her. MacTavish stood rooted to the spot. His mind was still racing; he was trying to process what happened in the last few minutes. The kettle's whistle snapped him back to reality. He had to take a decision, right there, right at that time.
Malloy stared blankly at the bland tile pattern inside the shower. Boiling water poured over her. She wished that the water would wash away her feelings of hopelessness and stupidity because that was how she felt after her conversation with MacTavish. She could not hold it in anymore. These past six months all she thought about was him, from the conversations they used to have to the way he touched her. She loved the way he led his team with such conviction that inspired her to become a better leader. He taught her valuable lessons both in life and also in the field. He was not just a great boyfriend he was the best friend anyone could have.
She never forgave herself for the decision she took that dreaded night. Not the decision concerning the mission, but the choice regarding her telling MacTavish. She should have broken protocol. She should have ignored orders. Maybe, she should have declined the mission in the first place...
Alas, the decision was taken and what is done is done. She took her chance by travelling to Scotland and she blew it.
She dried her hair and dressed herself in jeans and a fitted t-shirt. She huffed as she went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She stopped suddenly and realised that MacTavish was sitting at the kitchen island looking sombre and slowly sipping his tea. As he realised the Malloy walked in, he grabbed the other mug and walked towards her.
"Let's talk," he said gently, handing her the mug.
He led her to the kitchenette and they both took a seat. She took a sip and felt her stomach churn as the tea settled inside her. There it was; he was going to dump her again, probably saying that what she had was an illusion and a fantasy and that could never become true.
"I think that this past year has been hell to both of us," he said, sounding distressed. "Both of us took decisions that we probably regret. However, I do believe that these decisions should not affect our future."
"John, I do not wish for you to feel compelled to say anything," she interjected.
"I am not feeling obliged to say this at all."
He grabbed her hand and held it tight.
"I admit," he continued, "that we could have tackled our 'situation' a bit better and I think that we should give it another shot."
Her mouth gaped open and stared at him. Was she hearing him correctly?
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"We should give it another shot," he repeated. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
Malloy hid her face behind her hands and started weeping. He was stunned at her reaction. She continued crying loudly. He got up and held her close to him, her body was shaking.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled wiping her face. "It's just... I did not expect that you would suggest that."
"You really thought I would not take the opportunity to get back with the most beautiful woman I have ever met?"
They looked at each other for a few moments and then burst out laughing.
"I am feeling awkward and I am not easily embarrassed," he said, scratching the back of his neck.
"That is true, considering that we had our most serious conversation without your shirt on," she sniggered.
He rested his hand on his bare chest mechanically.
"Oh. I apologise but I really can't find where I put my shirt."
Her face was flushed and the tea was making her feel warmer. Tension was hanging heavily in the air. She got up and tried to tie her hair up when she felt a hand slide over her lower back. She glanced to her left and saw MacTavish move closer. Her heart beat hard against her ribs, as she felt his body brush against hers. His fingertips lightly touched her cheek, her throat feeling dry.
Without thinking, she leaned closer and pressed her lips against his. They held each other in a tight embrace. His heart fluttered as the smell of her shower gel hit him. That sweet scent of apples put him in a daze. Something fierce was awakening inside him and he could not control it. He slid his hand that was resting on her lower back further down and squeezed hard. Malloy squealed and giggled.
"I am sorry for my actions but I am not thinking straight at the moment," he murmured in her ear.
She moved her hand over his toned chest and hard rock abdominals. Unexpectedly, she took a few steps backwards and slowly started removing her t-shirt revealing her ivory skin full of battle scars.
"Good Lord," he mumbled scratching his head hard in frustration. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Why? What am I doing?"
She faced the bedroom door, thus giving him her back. Slowly, she unclipped her bra and teasingly, dropped it on the floor. She walked towards the bedroom, her hips swing in a seducing manner. She swung her head around and smiled mischievously.
"Coming?" she winked.
MacTavish did not think twice. He dashed to the bedroom nearly toppling over. And who could blame him? Both of them were waiting for this moment to reconnect for the past year. Finally, that moment had arrived.
There we go everyone :3 Do not forget to share the story if you like it! Love you guys! xxx
