Update number four! See how I'm spoiling you?! The inspiration for Lola's dress came from a dress that Rosie Huntington Whiteley wore when she did Transformers. If you google her name and then RHW is also the physical inspiration for Lola's character because she is just a complete babe. I'm completely hetero but every time i see her i just develop a proper crush on her! Anyway, read, comment, PM, review etc, etc. Big kiss xxx

He had felt her presence before he had seen her. You know that feeling? Like you've seen a ghost? It had only ever happened to him once before and it wasn't a feeling that he completely enjoyed. The first time he'd experienced it was following the breakup of his first relationship. Ellie. They had been together for two years prior to him joining the para's. He wasn't completely sure that he'd loved her, but he was fond of her. She was the girl that all the lads in his year had fancied and when she had focused her sights on him, Soap had fallen hook, line and sinker for her feminine charms. He was a teenage lad after all. He was built of pure testosterone. She was the first girl that he had ever slept with and they enjoyed each others company until she focused her sights on somebody older than him. It didn't really matter to Soap, he was leaving to start his military journey, but he would find himself thinking of her some nights when he was lying alone in his bunk. Not because he missed her or pined for the past but because he wondered what had become of her.

He had been 23... maybe 24, the years all blurred together after a certain point, when he had been given a weeks leave by his commander. He had returned home to Scotland and where he and his dad were immediately dispatched to the local supermarket by his mam so that they could stock up on supplies. He remembered vividly how he and his dad had been arguing over which beer to buy when the feeling had hit him. The hairs on the back of neck had stood to attention and his skin erupted in goosebumps. To this day, he wasn't sure exactly what turned around but when he did, she was staring at him.

"ELLIE MCDONNELL!" Edan had shouted.

Subtle as a sledgehammer, his old man.

She had approached them cautiously. Time hadn't really served her very well. She looked tired, with bags under her eyes. Her skin was grey and sallow and as she approached the overwhelming stench of stale cigarettes hit John like a slap in the face.

"I bumped into your mam last week." Eden babbled seemingly unaware of the horrified look on her face. "She mentioned you'd had another boy! Congratulations!"

She couldn't look John in the eye but he couldn't stop staring at her. She wasn't the same girl. Not even close. He jumped when a young boy came zooming past his legs, attaching himself to Ellie.

"And this must be your eldest!" Edan bent down to the lad and ruffled his hair. "Good looking just like his mam, eh?"

She finally made eye contact with John. He wished that she hadn't. All the good memories he had of her disappeared in an instant.

"We'd better go. Lots to do." She mumbled, scooping the boy up into her arms and turning her back on the two men.

"Give your mam and dad our best, eh love?"

She didn't respond but shuttled off as though she was partaking in the 100m sprint. John turned away quickly, eager to get the image of her gaunt face out of his mind. Later that day, as they had been driving home, he had turned to his dad.

"You said, "another boy" to her." He mumbled. "How many-"

"-The newest addition is her fourth." His dad responded quickly as if he had been anticipating the question for a long time. "With the fella she went with after you."

"Jesus."

"Not that he minds much when he's in the pub cracking on with anything in a skirt." His dad responded, tersely. "Can't have been pleasant for her seeing you as you are now."

"I can promise you it wasn't a dream for me either."

It was weird to think of how much had changed in the years since he had seen Ellie McDonnell. Here he was, standing in the ballroom of one of the most exclusive and prestigious hotels in London at an event hosted by the SAS. He was literally rubbing shoulders with the richest and most elite members of society. Everybody that he was introduced to was a Lord, something-or-other, or a Baron. He didn't even know what it took to be a Lord or a Baron but he knew that the men with whom he was shaking hands with literally stank of money. I was a strange phrase wasn't it? For somebody to stink of money, or be "filthy, stinking rich" but he understood it now. These people, the Barons and the Lords, and their respective Baronesses and Lady's, literally smelt of something that he had never, ever experienced in his life. It was wealth. It had to be. He couldn't describe the smell, but he knew it was there, hanging in the air of the Berkeley Ballroom like a beautifully perfumed cloud.

He was halfway through a conversation with Lord Sinclair, a man with the plummiest voice that Soap had ever heard who supposedly owned half of Sussex, when the feeling hit him. It was exactly like when he had seen Ellie. He turned towards the ballroom from his position by the bar.

Of course it was her.

He couldn't think of a time when he had felt completely floored by something, or more specifically, someone. But here he was, frozen in time watching her. It was as if time slowed down, and the crowd around him seemed to dissipate. She was all he could see. She was all he wanted to see. It wasn't as if the eight weeks apart had made him forget her face, but here, tonight, in the middle of the Berkeley Ballroom it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. He had never entertained the idea of somebody being able to make his heart skip a beat, but she had proven that it was possible and he found himself gasping for a breath when his heart had it's little moment.

He wasn't the only one who noticed her arrival to the room, heads turned to stare at her as she made her way down the grand staircase situated at the front of the ballroom. She had her left arm linked with one of the men with whom Soap had endured a half an hour conversation with earlier in the evening. From what he could remember of the encounter he was a Duke. He was also the most overwhelmingly boring man that Soap had ever met but as they descended the staircase together, Lola was laughing at something the older gentleman had said with the gusto of somebody who had just been introduced to the funniest man in the world. The Duke looked thrilled. The most beautiful girl in the room, or any room for that matter, and she was laughing at his jokes. She threw her head back and her blonde mane tumbled back, before the waves settled around her face framing her cheekbones. She wore her hair down a lot, but tonight it looked as if she had rinsed it in gold with each loose wave bouncing and glittering in the light as she walked. The pair reached the bottom of the stairs and Price immediately zoned in on them. Wallcroft had been right. She was the star attraction. Every head was turned to look at this beautiful creature. She touched the Duke's arm lightly before kissing him on the cheek and turning away. The next person moved in. His wife gestured towards Lola's dress. She span and Soap's heart stopped for the second time.

"Excuse me." Lord Sinclair's hand touched Soap's arm lightly. "I have to go and say hello to an old friend."

They both knew where he was going but Soap didn't say anything but watched as the man stepped away and towards the throng of people.

"Mate." Wallcroft appeared at his side. "She's like the sun, you can't stare directly at her. It's dangerous for your health."

"Too late." Soap laughed. "It's kind of hard not to."

It was true. It was hard not to. The dress was something else. The midnight blue set off her sunkissed skin and the silk fabric clung closely to every single line on her body. Contrary to the lads who were all bulky and huge from the repetitive drills and weight training, her body was lean and taught but completely devastatingly feminine all at the same time. The material of the dress was so tight that when Soap's eyes darted down to the expanse of flat stomach, he could make out the tiny dimple where her bellybutton sat. He watched as she turned to another man, who leant in to kiss her on the cheek. The front of the dress was slashed in a deep v. Deep enough to allow for a small glimpse at the outline of her boobs but not deep enough that she risked flashing anybody when she turned. But it was the back that really made Soap's heart jump to his throat. Completely backless apart from a small strip of bedazzled fabric, the dress stopped just before the curvature of her hips at the small of her back.

"It's the one night of the year where she can be a proper girl, so she always goes all out." Wallcroft grabbed another glass of champagne from the top of the bar and knocked it back. "She looks nice this year. I like the colour." He nudged Soap. "Plus side for us is that while she distracts all the rich old toffs, we get to take care of their wives." He winked at Soap and then ducked towards a group of women huddled in a circle who were still throwing angry glances towards Lola.

Soap pushed himself away from the bar and edged his way closer to the centre of the ballroom. He had to go and say hello didn't he? Was that allowed? Or was she only here to talk to men who could buy helicopters? He watched as she moved her head back and forth between all the men clamouring to reach out and offer her a kiss on the cheek. She was laughing. Soap found himself grinning just watching her. She was halfway across the room when she finally had a break in the line waiting to greet her. She turned and her eyes settled on Soap. She watched him for a few seconds, her eyes scanning him up and down. She smiled slightly, before tilting her head to the side and mouthing a simple 'hi'. For a brief second, it was as if there were nobody else in the room with them. She began to walk towards him and Soap's legs propelled him forward.

This was it. Eight weeks had led up to this moment. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her, what she would say to him, but he kept moving, pushing past the crowds of fat cats his eyes focused on her and only her. She stopped, abruptly. A man had stepped in front of her. Price appeared at Soap's side, his hand slipping under his elbow.

"There's a Duchess in the corner who is a bit taken with your hair." Price steered him to the left of his path towards Lola. "She's got a bit of a thing for an accent too, so I reckon you'll be onto a winner. Her husband was a very, very wealthy man who left his entire fortune to her, so she could do a lot for us of you get her on side."

"But -"

"-But nothing." Price gave him a small shove towards the woman. It was a powerful gesture and one which Soap understood immediately. Looking back into the crowd Lola had disappeared. Soap turned back to Price and straightened his jacket up, before turning away. "Good lad."

The woman babbled away to him about his hair for a solid half an hour before he was able to excuse himself. He had tried to involve himself in her conversation but he was too distracted. He hadn't seen Lola since their brief eye contact before and he was starting to get impatient. His eyes scanned the room for a flash of blue silk or a sparkle of blonde hair with no success. The Duchess was sweet enough. Soap guessed that she was in her late 70's/early 80's. She was impeccably dressed in a floor length black velvet gown and was wearing a diamond ring that was so large Soap was surprised that she was able to lift her arm.

"Are you looking for Miss Jacobs?" The woman asked him, placing her hand on Soap's arm. The enormous diamond gleamed in the light. She was smiling.

He sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Just a bit." She was still smiling up at him. "But I can hardly blame you. She's a beauty. And so lovely too."

He nodded. "She's been on away for the past eight weeks and I was just hoping to say hello to her."

The woman chuckled and patted his arm softly. "From where I was stood it seemed that she wanted to say hello to you too." She sighed. "I am a bit of a softy for romance. Especially the forbidden kind."

"It's not -" Soap started.

"-Not like that." She finished for him, with a roll of her heavily lined eyes. "I've been coming to this blasted event for the past ten years and in the six years since she joined I've never seen her look at anybody in the same way." She steered Soap towards the door that led towards the corridor outside the ballroom. Waiters and waitresses bustled past them carrying trays of drinks. "I know that she's supposed to stay away from you lads and vice versa but the harder you both try and fight something like that, the more likely you are to just fall eventually."

Soap nodded and stared down at the sweet old woman. He felt genuinely terrible for not listening to her. Of all the people that he had spoken to that evening she was the kindest.

"You seem like a love expert." He grinned, placing his hand on top of hers as they walked together.

"There's a lot of good looking bachelors that come to this thing. Men with money who could sweep her off her feet and whisk her away but she doesn't want that. I know that Viscount Wellington has been trying for years but all those men... They're so stuffy and pompous." She smiled up at him. "But she doesn't want all that. She wants electricity, passion, fireworks... She wouldn't do the job that she does otherwise."

"But what about the rule?" he asked her.

"My dear boy..." She reached up and touched his face. "Think about it. Think about who she is, where she is, what she's doing." She grinned. "I'd say she's already broken a lot of rules." She clapped her hands together. "And the way she looked at you tonight makes me think that she'd be willing to break a lot more for you."

She reached up and kissed him on the cheeks. Soap was smiling from ear to ear. He wanted to pick her up and cuddle her, spin her around, dance, jump, shout, scream. But she was already moving away from him.

"Now, I know that she and your boys all hide out in the store cupboard when they need a break from the party." She was pointing towards a solid white door marked with the words 'Staff Only'. "She invited me to have a cocktail in there with her last year but I didn't take up the offer, sadly." She turned back to Soap. "So, I'm transferring my invitation to you." She winked at Soap. "I'm sure she won't mind."

Soap stared at the door. That feeling hit him again. The hairs of the back of his neck rose to attention and his stomach began churning at the thought of speaking to her. The feeling was more animated than before given the evaluation that he had received from the Duchess. He turned to thank her, but she was already moving towards the double doors that led back to the ballroom.

"I'll make sure to keep that nosy Captain of yours entertained! I'm sure he's dying to hear about all the money I'm about to give him for those guns he's always talking about..." She walked through the door and her voice faded away quickly.

Soap turned back to the white door. With the corridor now clear of the Duchess and the waiting staff he could hear the soft trickle of voices from inside the room. His heart was beating quickly against his ribcage at the thought of her. Had the Duchess meant what she had said? Did she see what he couldn't? He had felt something, and been so sure that Lola had felt it too but that little piece of doubt was prominent in his mind. He was scared. Not because he was afraid of rejection. No, rejection was just a part of life. It was a shitty part, but it still happened all the time. The fear rested solely on the fact that he had never, ever experienced these feelings before. Ever. He was drawn to her. Like a magnet. He wanted to kiss her. Taste her. Feel her hands on his skin. He wanted to wrap himself around her and protect her from everything. It wasn't love. Was it? He had been in love before but it had always felt like something that he had to do because it was the normal thing. But with Lola... it was different, somehow. He couldn't put his finger on it yet, but the surge in realisation that coursed through his veins propelled him forward and before he could stop himself he was pushing the door open. The three occupants in the room all stopped moving immediately at the intrusion. His eyes found her quickly and she smiled at him in that beatific way that made his pulse race. She didn't rush forward to him, but remained perched upon the large cabinet that was pushed towards the back of the small room. The two waiters who were sat with her jumped up and made their way from the confined space quickly seemingly unaware that Soap wasn't there to shout at them. The door closed quietly behind him as they scarpered away like frightened animals. He turned back to her. She was staring at him a small smile on her lips.

"Hi Soap."