Chapter 1:

It was one of their rare, quiet days at the base. Most of the task force were in the rec room, enjoying their downtime. Soon enough there would be another mission so they were eager to take advantage of this break. Even their captain, Soap was sat in the corner reading a book.

Roach was watching a particularly vigorous game of fuzzball between Meat and Scarecrow. The two were battling hard for the win. Although both were competitive, Roach knew neither wanted to lose because the loser had to clean the showers. Meat swore loudly when Scarecrow managed to score a point.

"Don't worry Meat, I'll make sure the showers aren't too messy for you." Ozone laughed, earning him the finger.

The door opened again and looking up, Roach saw Ghost walking in. For a fraction of a second, the laughter died away but almost instantly it was replaced with a yell of triumph. Scarecrow had taken advantage of Meat's distraction and scored another point to win the game.

"Oh, come on!" Meat groaned.

"Should've been paying attention." Scarecrow grinned before sitting down. "Enjoy your cleaning."

"Who lost?" Royce had entered the room and had walked over. When Meat rose a hand in answer, he laughed. "Sucks to be you. Anyway, who wants a beer? We've got the cooler set up outside and the barbeque's ready to go!"

There was a resounding noise of assent and everyone started towards the door.

"Roach!" Halting at the sound of his name, Roach turned to see it was Ghost waving him over. Joining the Lieutenant and Captain at their table, he looked at Ghost in question. "Sit down." He patted the space next to him and Roach sat, feeling confused.

Soap glanced up and noticed him. With a sigh, he marked his spot and closed the book. "Ghost we've been through this."

"Oh come on, Roach could help!"

"Help with what?" He asked dubiously.

"What would you say to morning training sessions?"

Roach blanched. This showed on his face because Soap started laughing. "See? I told you it was a bad idea. It won't help with morale." He returned to his book.

Ghost huffed in annoyance. "It would keep everyone sharp. Training leads to improvement which leads to results. We would all benefit from it." He rounded on Roach. "I think we should at least give it a go."

"No comment." Roach stood up quickly, keen to leave before Ghost started pressuring him. He wasn't sure if the man was aware of it, but Roach always caved to his ridiculous ideas and this was one he was keen to avoid. "I'm going to go join the others, see you later." As he left the room he distinctly heard Ghost start on Soap and couldn't help but smile. He was fighting a losing battle.

The smell of cooking meat had already reached the corridors and Roach's stomach rumbled as he walked towards the sounds of the team outside. Catching sight of Poet waving him over, Roach joined him next to the cooler. He had always gotten along we'll with Poet. The two of them had joined the Task Force around the same time so naturally, they had been drawn together as they adjusted to their new squad.

"Where'd you go?"

"Ghost tried to coerce me into started morning training sessions." Poet wasn't the only one who groaned at this news. "Don't worry, Soap's not interested."

"Thank God." Royce sighed in relief before handing him a beer. "Don't they work us hard enough as it is?"

"You know Ghost."

They all laughed. It was true, their Lieutenant was passionate about training, even to the point of being obsessive. But Roach saw his point, the better trained they were the less likely they would fail. Not that he'd ever mention this aloud. If Ghost heard he would never get another moment of peace.

Finding a spare seat to sit down in, Roach leaned back with a sigh as he drank his beer. It was nice to relax for once. They had been on a string of missions recently trying to hunt down one of Makarov's informants and we're currently waiting for the go-ahead to hunt him down. So with a few days respite the team was making the most of it. Before long, Soap and Ghost had joined them.

After a while, Ghost took the seat next to him and handed over a fresh beer. "Thanks."

They drank in silence for a while. Roach glanced sideways at the other man to see he had lifted his mask enough to drink. He was surprised to see the stubble on the man's jaw since most of them were clean-shaven. Then again, no one saw Ghost's face so what did it matter. Looking a bit closer, Roach noticed he had lines of bare skin running down his jawline. Scars possibly but in the dim light, he couldn't tell.

Ghost turned to look at him and Roach could tell the man had noticed him staring. "What?"

"Nothing." He replied too quickly and Ghost chuckled.

"You're a bad liar."

"Fine then. Are those scars?" He pointed at the other man's face, instantly regretting asking. He'd had too much to drink. Asking Ghost personal questions was a big no-no.

Ghost seemed to contemplate him for a moment before shrugging. "Yeah, they are." Stunned by the admission, Roach didn't respond. There was a reason no one asked Ghost questions, he usually flew off the handle about it. "Something wrong?"

"No of course not." They lapsed into silence. Roach finished his beer, occasionally looking at Ghost to find the man was also watching him. "What?" He asked, more defensively than he'd meant to. Ghost made him nervous, especially when his full attention was on him.

"Do you always get nervous when you drink?"

"What makes you think I'm nervous?"

"You haven't stopped tapping your leg for at least five minutes."

Becoming aware of the action, Roach immediately forced himself to stop. He caught sight of Ghost smiling as he drank again. "It's your fault." He muttered angrily.

"What did I do?"

Roach was saved from responding when Rook shouted his name and threw over another couple of beers for them. He knew exactly what made him nervous, but he wasn't about to tell Ghost. Handing him one of the bottles, Roach took a long drink from his to avoid answering.

The simple answer was that he found Ghost attractive.

This in itself was strange because he'd never seen Ghost's face. For all, he knew the man was butt ugly. The thought made him smile.

"What's funny?" Ghost was still watching him.

"You being butt ugly." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I mean-" Roach stammered, unsure how to salvage the situation. "I don't really think that of course. It was just... An idea?" To his immense relief, Ghost laughed. It was a nice sound, one Roach didn't hear very often and it made his heart stutter slight, knowing he'd cause the other to laugh.

"I'll have you know I used to be quite the looker."

"Used to be?"

Ghost tapped the scars on his face. "They make a lot of difference."

"It can't be that bad." Curiosity was getting the better of him. "It's not like anyone can tell. You never take your mask off."

"For good reason." Finishing his beer, Ghost pulled the balaclava back into place and stood up. "See you around, Roach." And with that, he left, immediately swallowed by the gathering darkness.

Watching the man go, Roach found he had more questions than answers.

The recently vacated seat was taken by Soap a few minutes later. "Please tell me you weren't egging Ghost on with the training shit."

"Definitely not."

"Good." Soap sighed and rubbed his face. "The last thing I need is overworked men. Do you know how much paperwork I have to fill out when someone files a complaint?" He caught sight of Roach's amused expression and snorted. "Forget it. Just do me a favour and keep an eye on Ghost. He listens to you. I don't want to hear any more about training sessions."

"Yes, sir."

Soap groaned. "Don't start with that sir shit."

"Yes, Soap!"

"That's better." He got up. "Get some rest, Roach. I've got a feeling this downtime is coming to an end. And he too disappeared into the darkness.

Roach finished his beer before turning in himself. Most of the guys had gone inside too and the building was quiet as he walked down the corridors towards his room. When he finally got into bed his thoughts inevitably strayed to Ghost. Strange behaviour aside, he'd learnt a lot about the other man tonight. Mulling over their conversation, it wasn't long before he fell asleep.