A/N: I love drabbles, man. I love how short they are.
(even if when I write some I don't strictly adhear to the exact definition of "drabble," but I digress)
So chapter 3 is pretty much four "drabbles" put together.
This will be occurring often in Phobia, kthx.
P.S. I'm uploading all the pre-written stuff today. That's why I'm updating so quickly and SCHTUFF.
Kind Of Like Professional Wrestling
It wasn't terribly difficult for Ghost to contain the little hurricane in his arms, save for the hitting and the screaming and the biting when the brunette tried to clamp a hand over said hurricane's mouth to silence him.
MacTavish had ventured out to help anyway, grabbing Roach by the waist and quite literally slamming him to the floor, forcefully holding him down. While the Scotsman had a hand on his neck, an arm on his back, and knees on the rest of him, Ghost couldn't help but wonder if it was really necessary to do all this.
But when the wild Sergeant somehow managed to get an unholy elbow into his Captain's crotch, Simon silently concluded that perhaps it was.
Silence
Ghost was mildly irritated with the complete disaster that was his attempt at getting Roach out and about. He and MacTavish had tag-teamed on Roach and restrained him until he slowed down enough to be lifted into the air without responding with a flurry of kicks or punches (after the Captain had recovered from the devastating blow to his package, of course).
MacTavish dropped him onto his bed and was adamant about warning Ghost to keep an eye on him. The brunette complied and the Scotsman left back to his quarters. The heavy silence that took place between Lieutenant and Sergeant was awkward.
You Didn't Know?
"Sir, I have a question."
MacTavish glanced up from the gun in his lap to address the man in front of him and furrowed his brow with acknowledgement, looking back down and continuing to polish the barrel wordlessly.
"What the hell is wrong with Roach?"
"Did you take him out to a pub last night?"
"Yeah?"
He paused, peering up at Ghost with a humorless smile as he put the gun aside. "You didn't know?"
Ghost scowled. "Know what?"
The Captain nodded knowingly and rose to his feet, tossing the rag back down on his bed and gesturing forward at the closed door across the hallway. "Roach has caligynephobia."
Pause.
"…Pardon?"
MacTavish snorted as he moved past the other man, inclining his chin at the door as he passed it. "He has a pathological fear of attractive women, Ghost."
He definitely didn't see that coming.
Not The First One
That morning, Ghost found Roach sitting in the break room alone with his chin in his hand and a vacant expression on his face. He acknowledged the Lieutenant's arrival with a casual nod, resuming his lack of activities and continuing on with said lack of activities even as the other man sat down opposite of him. A silence not unlike the one the night before threatened to settle, but Simon wouldn't have it. He cleared his throat to kill it off.
"Morning, mate."
"Morning, Ghost."
Long pause.
"…Sleep well?"
"Eh-eh."
Some regarded Roach's lack of wordiness as an admirable trait, assuming it kept him out of trouble more often than not. This was merely a myth, as very few of the Task Force had spent enough time around the Sergeant to know that whatever he usually did say was what plunged him into trouble in the first place. In any case, his silence was what made him a horrible conversationist, and now was a prime example of this attribute.
Ghost shifted in his seat and leaned his elbows on the table, turning his gaze on the blonde. "Listen, Roach, I'm sorry. Really. I didn't know you were…scared of attractive…women." He finished deliberately, noting just how goddamn stupid this caligynephobia sounded but taking immense care not to point it out to the other man. Roach merely shrugged.
"I'll live. You're not the first one that took me out to a pub without knowing." He replied, voice flat as he stood up from the table and wandered towards the door. Ghost watched him for a few moments, and then piped up with, "Who was the first, then?"
At this, Roach paused, a look of thoughtfulness on his features as he pondered his answer. "Uh…Captain MacTavish and a few other guys. Price, maybe?" He gave a noncommittal shrug again, disappearing around the corner and leaving Simon Riley to wonder how and/or why the Sergeant was being so unusually casual about something that had him kicking and screaming the night before.