"A long night" only scratched the surface as far as this experience was concerned. The actual thunderstorm only lasted about an hour, but the wind and rain kept up for a long while after. All three of them were wet (Nikolai a little less, as his jacket was more waterproofed). The best that could be done was strip off the sopping wet uniforms, wring them out and set them to dry. They did a little searching of the house, and found a closet with a space heater and a couple musty blankets. It was about the best they could do at the moment.

MacTavish wasn't personally cold. The room was hovering at a little cooler than room temperature, but that was comfortable to him. Ghost always said he must just run a little warmer than everybody else. Of course, Nikolai seemed fine as well, but also still had some dry clothing and more time to adjust to the area.

If anyone was having trouble, it was Scarab. The woman was shivering, despite her clear efforts not to. Considering she was in wet trousers and a wet bra, he couldn't exactly blame her. She'd tried to squeeze the water out of her pants, but there's only so much you can do without taking them off. She was also still wearing that knit cap of hers and that also had to be soaked along with her hair.

In some pitiful way, she resembled a drenched kitten.

MacTavish brought one of the blankets and draped it over her shoulders. "Did you want to move closer to the heater?"

"I'm fine," she claimed. This was immediately followed by a high pitched sneeze.

... Definitely a kitten.

Was that a weird comparison? MacTavish decided it best not to dwell on it and sat down beside her. Across the room, Nikolai had made himself comfortable and dozed off, so they were effectively alone. Maybe now was his best chance to set the record straight with her. "Scarab, there's something I need to tell you..."

She lifted her chin and regarded him curiously. "You do?"

He didn't share her feelings. That was all he needed to say. "I want you to understand, I appreciate you as a good soldier. You've done well this mission, and I'm glad to see it. But I can't reciprocate your feelings."

"Why not?"

Was she really going to make him list the reasons? Shouldn't the simple fact he couldn't be enough? "Well, for starters, I'm your commanding officer. If word got out, it'd spell trouble for the both of us." It was a flimsy excuse for him; extraordinarily weak, considering he was with Ghost and a few of their teammates knew that already.

"Ooh, so you're worried about both our careers." Scarab smiled broadly and winked. "Don't worry, Captain, I can keep a secret."

...

Apparently Scarab liked the forbidden romance narrative. Why didn't he see this coming? She had to have known the rules before she pursued him. Regulations weren't enough to stop her, which meant that he needed to dig deeper. "That's um... Nice..."

Scarab crossed her arms around her knees. "It's that person you care about, isn't it? You're scared you'll disappoint them."

More like he already did. MacTavish turned his attention to his boots. It seemed he wasn't being nearly as subtle as he wanted. Either that, or Scarab was more observant than he realized. "Yeah, I am."

"If they make you feel so insecure, then maybe you should care a little less about what they think," Scarab suggested. "At least, that's my opinion."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"I guess you could say that. My stepmom held me to a pretty high standard, especially after my dad and brother died. I cared too much about making things work and I almost didn't join the military because of it."

Her dad and brother both died? MacTavish mentally pulled up what he remembered of her file. It had been months since he'd last seen it, shortly after she joined the Task Force 141. It did list her biological parents and brother as deceased. The stepmother might be the only one in the picture for her. "That must've been rough."

"It was. But I'm here now." Scarab reached out and took his arm. "And you're here too."

His pulled his arm away. His stomach turned end over end with guilt. He couldn't just cut Ghost out of his life. They'd been together through thick and thin for the last four years. Ghost walked him out of a couple of the darkest chapters of his life, changed it in little, meaningful ways. He liked to think he was good for him too. The Lt. Riley who joined the 141 was bitter and closed off until MacTavish got to him. He dedicated so much love and energy into all the time he spent with him.

The argument he had with Ghost reared its ugly head in the back of his mind. Being called stupid did hurt. He never complained about the times it was said as a joke, but he couldn't think of a time when the word didn't sting. What's more, the lack of trust was painful. Maybe, in some way, Scarab had a point. Weren't these red flags?

In that moment, he pondered Scarab in a different light. Sure, she was awkward, a tad ditsy at times, but she seemed nice. She could be assertive when she wanted to be too. Right now, her words resonated with the bitter part of him lingering on the unresolved fight. Ghost hadn't apologized. He had a day to spit it out before they left on this assignment, and at no time did he stop him to say it.

In fact, Ghost made a point of avoiding him all that day. Why? What was he still hung up on that he couldn't apologize for it? When they settled down that night, they didn't utter a word between each other. They kept their backs to the other, and were practically on the edges of that single.

"We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," she said.

"I guess not." MacTavish looked to her and took in every detail. Although he'd already known it, Scarab was a very pretty woman. Her eyes were warm honey brown, and she had a fair amount of developed muscle tone. He hadn't paid so much attention to it before, but those abs were damn nice too. "So, do you work out often?"

Scarab giggled and scratched her ear. "Yeah, I've got a routine laid out for that. It's all pretty standard, except I have a day dedicated to kickboxing practice and I try and get about fifteen minutes of yoga in beforehand."

"Yoga, huh? I get doing a few stretches so you don't pull something, but you go that far?" MacTavish asked.

"Yup. It helps with flexibility. Otherwise, I don't think I'd be able to do those high kicks." She nudged his shoulder. "Who knows, Captain, maybe I can teach you a few positions to help loosen you up."

The two looked at each other, and MacTavish swore her face was tinged red. The next minute, they were laughing. He nudged her back. "Aye. Lord knows I could use it."

"Give me a month. I'll have you doing splits in no time."

Ghost would definitely enjoy it, that was for sure.

... Ghost wouldn't enjoy this...

MacTavish sighed, and contemplated his next step forward with upmost care. Surely he could spare Scarab's feelings, find a way to let her down easy, and still make Ghost happy, right? There had to be a middle ground. Something he could do or say that could fix the mess he made for himself. "Scarab, I-"

Suddenly, her lips were on his, and much like before he didn't know what to do. Despite his better judgement, he didn't want to pull away. So instead, he engaged her further, wrapping a hand behind her neck and drawing her in close.

He didn't have a chance to contemplate how she kissed back on the balcony, but this time he found himself comparing. Her lips were a different shape than Ghost's; her top and lower lips were roughly the same thickness, whereas Ghost's upper lip was notably thinner. Within a few minutes, she swiped her tongue along his mouth. He'd been so used to Ghost's nipping that this caught him by surprise. None of it was bad, not as she melted into his chest, just different.

When they finally broke apart, MacTavish was speechless. As reality kicked back into gear, he glanced at the window. It'd be his luck that Ghost would somehow be here, hundreds of thousands of kilometers away from base, just to hang outside like goddamn Spiderman and spy on them. There was no sign of him.

Scarab leaned against his arm. "Sorry, you don't mind if I sleep here, right? You're really warm..."

"I don't mind," he replied. Without any sort of real mental input, his arm looped itself around her.

It didn't take long for Scarab to fall asleep, and soon he was left to his chaotic maelstrom of thoughts. As much as he wanted to be mad at Ghost, as much as he wanted to pretend this was a simple jealousy game, he couldn't justify this. He kissed her back, and in doing so validated Ghost's lack of faith.

He deserved better than him.

That singular conclusion settled like a rock in his gut. The thought of Ghost with anybody else was more painful than anything. There had to be a way to fix this. Something.

If he kept this to himself, maybe this would blow over. Tomorrow he'd break things off with Scarab. He'd let her off easy somehow.

The rain stopped around dawn, and the sun broke through the dark clouds at the horizon. At about 03:00, Nikolai woke up and took the next watch shift so MacTavish could sleep. What sleep the Captain got wasn't restful though. He'd spent a long while contemplating how he could tell Scarab once and for all that he couldn't be with her.

To his credit, he came up with a plan, but the moment he nudged Scarab to wake her up, he noticed an unhealthy amount of heat radiating off of her. Despite her having slept the longest, she was pale, and her eyes dull and dark. "... It's morning...?" she croaked.

"Aye, rise and shine." MacTavish pulled on his partially dry uniform. The damp spots were warm from being near the space heater for hours on end. They clung to his skin with every movement. "The helicopter's coming to pick us up in an hour at the secondary extraction point, so get yourself sorted."

She nodded and took her uniform. Each move she made was slow, dragging. Once her uniform was on, she sniffled and coughed.

"Sounds like you caught a wee cold," MacTavish noted.

Scarab gave him a dead stare and echoed, "A wee cold."

"That's what I said."

She didn't respond further and instead finished pulling her jacket on over her shoulders. A shiver rippled up her back, and she visibly clenched her jaw. "How far away's the extraction point from here?"

"Three kilometers. Not far." MacTavish got on the rest of his gear and picked his gun up off the floor. Despite the small distance, Scarab looked as if she were asked to run a marathon. He nudged her shoulder. "You can rest when we get on the chopper."

They needed to double back towards the base, since the extraction point wasn't far from the Drop Zone. Much of it was uphill and most of the entire way, Scarab was audibly short on breath. Every so often, she slowed and coughed, but brushed off any question or concern he and Nikolai raised. By the time they reached the zone, an empty field, every breath she took had a faint, crackling undertone.

Once more, MacTavish tried to address the apparent problem. "Scarab, how're you holding up?"

"I'm fine..." She turned to face him, but visibly swayed. He caught her shoulder to steady her. She definitely wasn't fine. His attention turned down to her side. The wound could have gotten infected, or she could have caught something after being out in the rain and cold for so long. There was no telling-

From the distance, came a sharp bark. MacTavish stiffly looked back to see that same god damn dog from before running their way. Before he could impulsively draw his sidearm, Scarab took his hand in hers and stopped him.

"He's not going to tackle you," she said and crouched down. The dog slowed to a trot and approached her.

Nikolai stepped in beside MacTavish. "Is that the stray that has been getting into the trash bins?"

"We found it last night." MacTavish watched Scarab get out another pack of peanut butter crackers (how many freaking packs of those did she bring?) and feed the dog. "I think she wants to bring it back to base, but there's no way that'll happen."

Nikolai raised a brow at him. "Is that so? I could take it back to the Loyalist safe house. Kamarov would be fine with it." With that, the Russian approached Scarab and the dog. The stray scampered back as he came close, but with a little bit of coaxing it warmed up to the new face quickly.

"The poor thing's covered in ticks," Scarab noted, gently checking under its ears.

"It will need a very thorough cleaning."

At least the dog wasn't staying in R.A.F. Brook Line. MacTavish had to keep telling himself that as the helicopter picked them up and Nikolai coaxed the animal in with them. He sat a generous distance away while the others got better acquainted with it.

The co-pilot regarded them with confusion, "You're bringing a dog back?"

"It's not staying," MacTavish responded.

There was no relaxing most of that helicopter ride. For the first half, it was due to his fear of dogs. At some point half way through, Scarab took a turn for the worse. She rested her head in her hands and stayed like that a long while.

MacTavish scooted closer. "You alright, Scarab?"

"Yeah, just a headache." She didn't move. "I think I'll get a little rest..."

He touched the back of her neck and noted the heat radiating off her. "Go straight to the infirmary when we get back, okay?"

Scarab hummed faintly. It was probably a yes, but she then immediately followed it with leaning herself against his arm. It didn't take all that long for her to doze off. She didn't stir for the rest of the helicopter ride back, and it was difficult to rouse her when they finally landed. When she did wake up, she got up and immediately fell to a knee. "Just... just give me a minute..."

At this point, he'd seen enough. MacTavish pulled her up to her feet and knelt down in front of her. "Hop on."

"Captain...?"

"I can carry you there, you're clearly having trouble walking," he explained. This apparently was enough for Scarab, as she climbed on his back and he walked off the pave-low with Nikolai at his side and the dog at their heels.

And the first person that he should run into in? As his luck would have it, of course that was Ghost. Though difficult to make out, the lieutenant's brows furrowed behind his sunglasses. "What happened to her?"

It should have been a straightforward answer. As far as him carrying her went, this was innocent. Despite that, his brain made a detour back to the kiss the night before. Cotton mouthed, he answered, "She's sick and might have an infected wound. I'm taking her to Doc."

"That right? I'll come along." Ghost fell in step beside him as they walked off the landing zone towards the main building. "Must've been a tough run."

"Not really. We would've been back sooner if winds didn't mess with the tail rotor." MacTavish shifted Scarab's weight so that he could get a better grip on her legs. She loosened her arms around his neck. "She did pretty well, all things considered."

"Thanks, Captain," she mumbled.

Ghost side eyed her, but didn't comment. Instead, he changed gears. "Right. Once Doc's able to look at her, I think we've got some things to go over."

MacTavish glanced at him, but there was a lack of tension in his posture or any telltale signs of a problem. There was no way Ghost could know about that kiss. Zero. So why did he feel this dread deadening his joints?

"'Course. Did you want to discuss it in my office?"

"That should be fine," Ghost agreed.

They almost never spoke about work privately. The security of closed doors was usually reserved for personal conversations. Unless something classified came up that none of the men could hear, which he supposed wasn't an impossibility, he had every reason to assume it had something to do with their recent dispute.

At the infirmary, MacTavish dropped Scarab off and left her in Doc's capable hands with a friendly "Feel better" then left with Ghost. They diverted straight to his office. As soon as he shut the door behind them, the lieutenant took his hand.

Oh no... He only ever turned to hand holding if it was serious...

"Ghost?" MacTavish's voice was edged with nervousness.

"Listen, about what I said before, I'm sorry." With his free hand, Ghost took off his sunglasses and looked him square in the eyes. Though Ghost normally looked tired, today his dark circles were a touch more pronounced, his eye bags puffy. How much sleep did he lose over this? "I shouldn't have called you stupid. You're just trying to be nice, like always, and I should trust you."

With those words, MacTavish's chest hurt. An apology? Ghost was actually sorry for this? If only he could jump back and pull the plug on that kiss. He shouldn't have. No, he wouldn't have if he realized that Ghost would actually be sorry. Since it happened, he knew it had been a mistake and sure enough, he was right.

Maybe it was best if Ghost never heard about his lapse in judgement. He'd make it up to him by breaking things off with Scarab when she was feeling better. Once that sordid chapter was closed, maybe then their relationship could carry on with a semblance of normality.

"Well? Are you going to say something?" Ghost asked, pulling the lower half of his balaclava off his face.

"I should be sorry too. I was wrong." MacTavish gave Ghost's hand a squeeze.

Just like that, Ghost tugged him in and gave him a soft kiss. It was no more than that, and yet it felt like an assuring "I forgive you." MacTavish pulled him in, smooched his forehead, and held him close. Despite his mistakes and the shit he did, this man remained loyally by his side.

He'd make this right. Somehow, someway.

But how?

{—To Be Continued—

Summary of Plan B Chapters 10, 11, and 12a

10. Getaway subverted. They camp.
11. Wake up. They get to the extraction point. Scarab trips almost off the cliff. They leave.
12a. Pneumonia. At base, there's drama.

A/N: This chapter was weird to write. I'll be hitting the part where Plan B goes off its rocker soon, and I'm not 100% decided on how I plan on handling it. This chapter had next to none of the original dialogue, mainly because Scarab and Soap swap cringe inducing bullying stories and none of it was relevant.

Originally, Scarab was supposed to be a gymnast as a kid, but the only reason that mattered was because there was an accident where she accidentally killed a classmate on the balance beam. Pretty sure I ripped that nonsense from "1000 Ways to Die" or something stupid like that. She also shares a story where a gaggle of girls harassed her to the point where one of them brought a knife to school and assaulted her - only for none of them to get in trouble. Neither of these angsty backstory points do much of anything (gymnastics girl gets mentioned once way later in a nightmare, but eh...) so I scrapped them. Odds are, Scarab's probably still got a history of doing gymnastics as well. I kinda like the idea of her being a cheerleader in high school as well.
Soap's bullied story wasn't all that inspired. Jocks gave him a hard time, blah blah blah... he hid in the school library. Again, it literally doesn't matter.

On another note, Younger Me wasn't good at writing relationships. As I believe I mentioned, Soap sites a dead girlfriend during the balcony scene as why he didn't feel comfortable being with Scarab, who then disregards it. They kiss and I guess are kiiiiiinda a thing if you squint? That came back here originally too. I'm pretty sure Scarab was angsting about dead gymnastics girl, while Soap tries to comfort her. She turns around and says something like, "Well it's easy for you to say, you never watched someone you cared about die!" Soap is reasonably pissed. It's like Scarab only listens when its convenient.
In a whole other level of cringe, Soap doesn't even need the dead girlfriend to be pissed. Gaz literally gets capped right before his eyes before he can do anything about it.