So, my New Years resolution didn't last very long, did it?!

In my defence, I didn't really account on how busy i would be when I promised on a chapter a week but I've had a couple of days off and chance to reunite with my favourite mohawked Scot.

So here, for all of my gorgeous, lovely readers who seem to like this little story more than I ever dreamt anybody would, are EIGHT new chapters. The first one is kind of a filler, so apologies. I could spend several chapters building up Soap and Lola's budding friendship but I really, really want to be able to delight you all with the juicy stuff that I know you're just waiting for, so I've kind of done it in one. The second chapter is a based upon the first mission that Soap ever does in MW1, 'Crew Expendable' and it's suuuuuuuper long, so apologies for that but it signals a bit of change for the pair and brings about the start of what is going to be, in my opinion, the greatest love story ever (I'm joking - we all know that title goes to Noah and Allie from The Notebook or maybe Rose and Jack?! Ahhh, there's too many to choose from) so hopefully you'll appreciate the super long chapter? I won't lie, it's kind of hard to write all the action that Soap et al went through, but I've given it a bash and don't think it's too terrible. The third, fourth and fifth chapters that I'm posting today go into more detail about Lola's place within the SAS and there's stuff in there which moves away from the video game entirely, but when I first began thinking up the idea for this story, it was something which I always wanted to include in the plot, so again, hopefully you'll enjoy it! And I'm not saying anything but if you make it through to the eighth new chapter you will be rewarded!

As always, all your feedback is appreciated and adored in equal measures (except the mean feedback - don't be a hater, life is waaaaay too short to go around being a keyboard warrior). Favourite, follow etc etc. I genuinely do get a little ping of delight when I get an email saying that somebody has taken the time out of their day to show appreciation for me and my crazy jumble of words.

Big kisses! xxx

"You're not really pushing yourself, Soap." Lola had called over her shoulder as they had neared the finish line. "I'm not even breaking a sweat."

He grit his teeth and pushed forward, urging his body to use everything it had left. As if on cue, she surged forward, her blonde hair fanned out in waves behind her. She turned to Soap and laughed. It wasn't malicious, he knew that now. She was urging him to push on. Willing him to beat her.

It had been a month since their confrontation in her office and they had quickly fallen into a comfortable friendship. She teased him mercilessly and didn't take offence when he returned the favour in his own way. They laughed a lot. She was funnier than any other girl he'd ever met. He didn't know if it was being around the lads for the past six years, or if it was simply embedded into her but she had a quick wit and a sharp tongue. Nobody stood a chance against her when she was on form and he loved her for it. Some of the other lads had attempted to pigeonhole Soap as the FNG but she had quickly put an end to it when she had found out. In short, she was protective of him and he, in turn, was protective of her. He had never supposed that she would be the one to have welcomed him into the team following their first meeting, but to her credit, when she had told him that the past was in the past, she had meant it. She treated him as if she had known him her whole life and to his surprise, it felt like she had. She was completely disarmingly charming when she wanted to be. He could understand now why all the lads adored her. Once she had you in her sights and she knew she wanted to be your friend, you really had no choice. Even Price, with his gruff, abrasive personality couldn't help but thaw out when she'd turn her charm in his direction. It was funny to watch. To all outsiders, the SAS was a team of big, burly heartless killers who got a job done by any means necessary but on the inside? On the inside, there was a female in their midst who bound them all together like glue. She was the secret backbone within this whole organisation. Soap had realised that very, very quickly.

His sexual frustrations towards her hadn't changed, he still found his eyes lingering on her lycra clad body when they would exercise together, still thought about her every night but as he was more than achingly aware that nothing would ever happen between them, he was happy enough to be included in her inner circle where he was able to spend all his time with her.

Going into selection Soap had believed that he was at the top of his game. He was strong, determined, a leader, but since entering the SAS it had become painfully obvious that the lads, and girl, that he was working alongside were another level of superhuman. She had taken it upon herself to train him. She had pushed his body, opened his eyes to the ways of the SAS and he was eternally grateful to her for it. In the month since he had started he had managed to shave 2 seconds off his CQB test. He knew that it was down to her. When his body was ready to give up she demanded more. He appreciated her more than she could ever know.

"Nobody knows better than me about struggling to keep up." She told him one day as they cooled down after a punishing 20 miler. "I didn't have a clue when I started."

"So...?"

"So I learnt to adapt." she grinned, throwing her hair back. "I'll never be as strong as any of the lads, but I'm faster. Instead of focusing on what I couldn't change, I focused on what I could."

He had heard all about her time at selection. How the officers had been warned not to go easy on her just because she had a pair of tits. There was one lad, a big hulking fella by all accounts who had taken an instant dislike to her. "Called her all kinds y'know? Just trying to push her to her breaking point." Clark, one of the lads who had been through selection with her had told Soap. "But she just kept quiet, got her head down and passed all the tests."

"What happened to him?"

"Broke his leg during Endurance. One mile from the end" Soap's mind had flashed to Edan. "She was behind him, second place."

"So she was first for Endurance?" Soap had been dumfounded. He remembered the feeling. His body had never hurt so much.

"Nope, she was dead last." Clark said. "She strapped his leg up as best she could using whatever it is that she could find and she walked him back." Clark laughed at Soap's face. "She had bruises all over her shoulders from where he had been leaning against her. Took about three weeks for them to go."

"Christ."

Clark nodded and laughed. "You think that's impressive, you should ask Gaz about the time she dug a bullet out of his leg with her bare hands."

Gaz, who had been sat next to Soap during the conversation, looked up instinctively. "Not that I don't love story time, but that isn't a memory that I enjoy reliving." He told Soap, his face ashen.

The more he knew about her, the more relief he felt that she had warmed to him. He was even happier that she seemed to genuinely like spending her free time with him. He had never really done the whole, "best friend" thing when he had been in the Para's. He was too focused on getting to his end goal. He had always been of the opinion that the fewer friends, the better. He didn't get attached to people very often, preferring his own company but here, it was completely different. He was glad for the friendships. Glad to sit around at night drinking a beer with the lads and Lola. He had known for a long time that he was meant to be in the SAS but he couldn't have predicted how the SAS would feel less like a job that he had to do, and more like a home that he was lucky to have.

"You need to do something with your hair." she had told him one day. "It's kind of blah."

He looked at her. "Blah?"

She nodded. "Blah."

"I've never known you to be so eloquent." he smirked.

"You look like you're about five minutes away from trying out for a 90's boyband." She grinned.

"In that case, I'm keeping it." He brushed a hand through his hair. It had grown considerably since he had arrived at camp. "Will you get some posters with my face on? We can start handing them out around the village. All the teenage girls will love me."

Gaz had arrived at their table and sat down next to Lola.

"Tell him his hair is ridiculous." She elbowed Gaz.

The other man had stared at Soap before nodding. "Your hair is ridiculous. You look like Nick Carter."

Lola had pulled a face. "I'll get back to you in a second." she pointed a finger at Soap. "Nick Carter?" She asked Gaz. "Did you have his posters on your wall when you were a teenage girl?"

"Ha, bloody, ha." Gaz grimaced. "You forget I'm the doting father of three girls. Unfortunately, I know my boybands."

She laughed and Soap found himself grinning along with her.

"And in your professional opinion, do you think our lovely Soap is cut out for the boyband life?"

She returned her gaze to Soap and he rolled his eyes.

"He looks like the one all the girls would fancy, but then he'd come out as gay later on." Gaz said, laughing.

"And there we have it." Lola grinned. "Your hair makes you look like a closet gay man." She pointed at Gaz with her fork. "His words, not mine." She smiled at Soap. "I can still hook you up with my friend Steve if you want? I'm sure he had a Nick Carter poster on his wall when he was younger."

Soap had taken the hint and had immediately found himself sat in the barbers in the village where he had surprised even himself by getting a mohawk. He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked mean. He looked like he killed bad guys for a living. He loved it. Lola had loved it to. The lads had ribbed him mercilessly.

"You look like Travis Bickle." Wallcroft had told him later that night as they had been sat around with a beer. Soap had looked over at Lola who came to stand next to him.

"I think he looks good." She announced.

It had taken every part of his self control not to smirk at Wallcroft. As the rest of the lads had carried on chatting amongst themselves, she had leant into him. "You'd rather look like Travis Bickle than Nick Carter." She and reached up and ran her fingers across his scalp. "And they're just jealous because you look hot."

Her words had flowed through his body, and settled themselves in the front of his mind. He wasn't too proud to admit that he had replayed her touching him over and over again when he had been in the shower the next morning. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game in harbouring these secret feelings for Price's golden girl, but he wasn't so sure that he cared.