Happy 2016!

i'm pretty sure that one of my 2015 resolutions was that I was going to update this story more often and I'm pretty sure that I failed miserably! My bad!

I'm going to go ahead and say that my 2016 resolution is to publish a new chapter once a month! I have so many ideas saved up in my brain so just need to find the time to sit down and type it all out!

This chapter is suuuuper long and is also a bit of a filler to set up what's going to be happening in the next few chapters but I hope you like it anyway!

As always, I really appreciate all the kind words and reviews! i had some absolutely lovely messages from King112 that made me grin like a Cheshire Cat. I still can't believe that people actually enjoy my mad ramblings so when I get messages like the ones he sent me, I am blown away and unfathomably grateful, so thank you!

So here's to 2016! Let's hope I stick to my resolution!

Big kisses! xxx

"So what was the weather like? Any good waterparks? How about the locals...? Were they friendly? What kind of ice-cream do they have? I like those ones that are shaped like penguins. Did they have those?"

I stopped brushing my hair and stared at the computer screen in front of me. On one half, Charlotte was holding her head in her hands and on the other, Steve was grinning up at me like a tiny child who had just discovered Christmas for the first time. Quite ironic given that it was actually December 20th and he was wearing a jumper that had an enormous cartoon reindeer smack back in the middle of it. He had also "serenaded" (his word not mine) Charlotte and I with two very different yet equally horrifying renditions of "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey. I was praying that there wasn't a third. In fact, it was literally all that I wanted for Christmas.

It wasn't that I hated Christmas but given that I had only been back in the UK for a grand total of three hours and 27 minutes and had been greeted by a freezing cold shower and a deserted barracks so it was safe to say that I really wasn't in the best of moods and sadly, not even a Skype session with my two best friends was changing that. Especially given that both Steve and Charlotte has dropped huge Santa sized bombshells on me that meant I was about to spend Christmas on my own for the first time in seven years.

I stared up at Steve. "The weather was weathery." I told him. "I didn't see any waterparks, no, but that's probably because I wasn't looking for any given that I spent 99% of my time keeping an eye out for bullets that were trying to take my head off." I paused. "The locals were friendly enough for gun-toting maniacs." Charlotte began to laugh. "And I'm not sure that I actually had time to stop at the local beach to discuss penguin ice-cream with anybody, but if I had, I'm pretty sure that they wouldn't have had any penguin shaped ice-cream." I exhaled, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Any more questions?"

Steve frowned and pulled a face at me. "You're not really selling it to me." He paused. "Also, I'm not sure that weathery is an actual word." He grinned. "Maybe you can find the time to read a dictionary in between dodging all of those bullets?"

I relented, and allowed the corners of my mouth to twist up into a smile.

"It's on the to-do list." I told him. "Next to 'buy Steve some penguin shaped ice-cream because he is a four year old child'."

"Penguin ice-cream transcends all ages, Lola. It is a universal symbol for a good fucking time."

"Of course it is." I laughed.

"I guess we know that you'll never make it as a Travel Agent, Lo." Charlotte grinned. "I'm sorry that your dreams are in tatters."

I smiled. "It was going to be such an easy transition too!" I said. "SAS to Thomas Cook in one move."

"Oh Lola, you are definitely more Kuoni than Thomas Cook."

I looked up at Steve. "That is probably the kindest thing that you have ever said to me in the entire history of our friendship."

He jumped up. "Not as kind as... ALLLLLL I WANTTTT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU." He paused, mid thrust. "And a pair of Louboutinsssssssssssssssss and maybe a puppyyyyyyyyyyy."

Charlotte and I groaned in unison.

"Oh, good, I was hoping that we would be treated to a third rendition." I hollered over his wailing. "BECAUSE I JUST WASN'T TRAUMATISED ENOUGH THE FIRST TWO TIMES."

"ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS TO NEVER HEAR THIS SONG AGAIN!" Charlotte shouted. "WHY DO YOU RUIN EVERYTHING WITH YOUR SINGING? WHY CAN'T YOU BE A NORMAL BOY."

She was currently deployed in Iraq and would be there for the next six months, at least. She had this weird habit of extending her tours because she genuinely couldn't get enough of being out in the field. Whenever asked, she would say that it was her fourth tour altogether, but I'm pretty sure there hadn't been a break from the first one. Not that she complained, no, unlike me she was genuinely enthusiastic to be shipped off into the unknown. She smiled at me and I saw the sparkle in her eyes that made my heart burst with pride for my beautiful, selfless best friend. She had always had that sparkle, obviously, but now that she was doing this job that sparkle was so bright that it was like staring at the sun.

Goddamn, I missed her.

And despite the fact that he was a shrieking maniac, I also missed Steve.

The SAS wasn't like a normal job. I couldn't just book a week off and nip down to London to visit Steve and the only time that I ever saw Charlotte was when we were graced by some divine miracle that put is in the same camp at the same time. It had happened twice so far and I found myself longing for a third.

Due to this, we had learnt pretty quickly that the only way to survive the distance was to Skype on a monthly basis. Slightly easier said that done for me, especially in the past year when Price had shipped me off left, right and centre, but it spoke volumes that one of the first things I had planned upon my return was a time that I would catch up with my best friends. It had been over three months since I had spoken to either of them and when their faces had popped up on my laptop screen my body, which was frozen to the core thanks to my icy shower, was suddenly flooded with warmth and a feeling unlike any other that I knew.

"So how did everything go?" Charlotte asked, fixing me with her bright green eyes.

I pulled a face.

"That well, huh?"

"Imagine, if you will, a big pile of shit." I paused. "Cover that big pile of shit in another seventy big piles of shit and then multiply it by a million piles of shit."

"Sounds like a lot of shit."

I sighed and stretched my legs out on the bed, pulling my laptop onto my lap.

Not only had I spent the past eleven weeks' in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, I had also failed to achieve the one objective that I was sent to do. My only saving grace was that I hadn't even been given the chance. The Yanks' big plan had failed miserably and Al-Asad had disappeared into the wormhole that I imagined he had come from and there was, literally, nothing that we could do about it.

"So what's next?" Charlotte asked, running her fingers through her hair.

I rolled my eyes. "I haven't debriefed with Price yet." I grimaced. "The base is empty so I think he's probably got them running through the Brecons." I twirled my own hair around my fingers piling it up into a bun on the top of my head. "But it's meant that I've managed to unpack and begin washing eleven weeks' worth of crap!"

She grinned. "See, every cloud has a silver lining."

"Yeah, except it's not silver, it's shit coloured." I laughed. "And it's not a cloud, it's just a huge floating pile of shit."

"I think you've reached your 'shit' quota, Lo." She smiled. "I've heard it so many times that I'm not even sure what it means anymore."

Steve, suddenly aware that he wasn't the centre of attention attempted to mimic Mariah's highest screech.

The effect was unpleasant, to say the least.

"Why can't you just sit down and have a normal conversation like an actual grown up man?" Charlotte asked.

"Why do his hips move like that?" I looked at him in puzzlement. "Like they're trying to be liberated from the rest of his weird body."

"YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO JUDGE ANYBODY ELSE'S DANCING LOLA!" He screeched at me.

I rolled my eyes and looked back at Charlotte. "So an Iraqi Christmas then?" I paused. "What does that look like?"

She shrugged. "I think we get some sort of dinner and we get to watch the Queen's speech."

I pulled a face at her.

"She's technically our boss, Lo."

"Oh please don't, one is bad enough."

I thought of my last exchange with Price and shuddered. It was the closest that we had ever gotten to a full blown argument. We bickered back and forth most of the time. He was frustratingly narrow minded for a man that had pioneered the inclusion of the first female SAS soldier and it had led to the occasional row but the last time? No, the last time had been different and given that I hadn't spoken a word to him in eleven weeks', I wasn't sure exactly how bad the damage was.

"What about you? What are your plans for the big day?"

I was grateful for the distraction that she threw at me. Price was invading my thoughts and I didn't want him there not until I was sure that he wasn't about to chuck me out of the SAS for insubordination.

"Well since Mr Chamonix over there decided that he'd rather go skiing with his ridiculously handsome McDreamy-esque boyfriend instead of spending the week spoon feeding me Ben and Jerry's..." I threw a glance at Mr. Mariah. "... I'm probably going to offer my week off to one of the other lads and then spend my time here, alone, crying on my bed in foetal position singing Christmas Carols to myself and wondering where I can find a best friend who isn't a complete dick pig."

Steve reappeared, his face bright from his overenthusiastic dancing. "Did somebody say dick? I'm all ears."

"What about Captain Dickpig?" Charlotte laughed, looking at me.

"I associate the word Captain with Price, so please God, no."

That is one mental image that I really didn't need.

"Okay, I'll settle for Lord Dickpig." Steve said, definitively.

"You are most certainly not a Lord." I scoffed.

"Erm..." He fumbled with his phone for a few seconds. "According to Google, a Lord is 'a ruler, a sovereign or a master or one possessing supreme power'."

"Erm..." I mimicked. "You are literally none of those things."

"EHHHH." He made the gameshow buzzer sound. "Wrong!"

I smacked my forehead with my hand, dramatically. "Oh yeah, sorry, I completely forgot, you're a MASTER-bator."

Charlotte burst out laughing.

"Masturbation jokes, Lola?" Steve narrowed his eyes at me. "Really? Are you a fifteen year old boy?"

I shrugged. "I spend 99 percent of my time around men." I laughed. "The occasional bloke joke slips through my radar."

"Yeah, that's not the only thing you've let slip through."

I laughed and he grinned up at me.

Goddammit, I missed the bones of him.

"Well, look, I'd invite you to come skiing with us but a) you're not allowed out of the UK and b) we aren't planning on spending much time on the slopes." He wriggled his eyebrows at me again. "Ifyouknowwhaddamean."

"Oh, we get what you mean." Charlotte gritted her teeth. "Believe me, we are PAINFULLY aware of what you mean."

"Lord Dickpig strikes again like the sex pest that he is."

"I need to stop thinking about sex because it makes me mad that I can't have any." Charlotte said. She diverted her gaze to me. "Why can't you tag along with one of the lads?" She asked. "What about Soap? He's off too isn't he?"

I stared at her. "Bad idea." I grimaced. "The less time I spend around Soap the better." I paused. "I seem to lose all control of my vagina when he's around."

Steve pulled a face. "Please stop ruining Christmas with talk about your vagina, Lola."

I laughed. "I'm just saying that I can't really control myself when I'm next to him. It's like my body has a mind of its own and the only thing that it really wants is to be on top of him."

Or underneath him, or upside down on him, or side by side with him...

Case in point? That kiss that we had shared during the first mission to find Al-Asad.

Yeah, that kiss.

"Hey, because he's Scottish we could call you MacDickpig."

"OKAY." I shouted. "That's enough from you Mariah."

"I'm really more of a Whitney." He flicked his hand at me. "But she didn't sing the greatest Christmas song of all time so I've had to change it up a bit." He paused. "EXCUSE ME for trying to entertain you."

"Google the word entertainment and then google the word torture and decide which one best describes the onslaught of noise that just came from your mouth." I paused. "Speaking of, we're looking to change up selection a little bit and I think your singing could come in handy."

He pouted at me.

There was a noise from behind Charlotte and a man appeared at the corner of the screen. They exchanged frantic words and he left the room as quickly as he had arrived. She stood up.

"I've got to go angels." She said. "I love you both to the moon and back."

"Stay safe gorgeous." I blew a kiss at her. "Try and Skype me on Christmas Day if you get a chance."

She nodded. "Enjoy your sexfest, Steve. Have a bang for me." She winked and leant towards the camera, planting her lips on the lens. "Merry Christmas!"

Her side of the screen went blank and Steve's face stretched out to occupy the entire space. He narrowed his eyes at me before shovelling a handful of peanuts into his mouth.

"And here we have the dick pig in his natural habitat." I mimicked David Attenborough. "Watch as he shows us his mating ritual of shoving nuts into his mouth at an alarming rate."

Steve laughed, spraying peanuts everywhere.

"He has a very strict diet of dick, nuts and dominoes pizza." I paused. "But never at the same time because that's weird." I stared at him. "And he pretends to be vegetarian but then gets pissed and eats five bacon butties in one go."

"I think you'll find I had four because you ate the other one."

I grinned at him. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you too, Lo." He sighed. "I'm excited to go skiing but I hate that it means that I won't see you."

"I know." I looked at him. "But it makes me happy that you've met somebody who loves you and overlooks all of your weirdness."

He nodded. "I've sang 'All I Want for Christmas is You' to him every day for the past three weeks."

I laughed. "And he hasn't run for the hills?"

"He joins in."

"Marry him." I grinned. "Slap a ring on his finger and march him down the aisle before he realises just how odd you are."

He laughed before sighing deeply. "I hate to say it but I've got to go too." He stared at me. "We fly tomorrow and I haven't packed anything."

"How long does it take to pack a box of condoms and an industrial size bottle of lube?" I asked.

"Longer than you'd think." He grinned. "And contrary to popular belief, I am intending on wearing clothes for some part of our stay!" His face lit up. "Let me show you!"

He darted away from the screen and returned with a small bundle of fabric. I took in the colours – brown, green, red and white. There was fur. And a bell.

I pulled a face. "Oh yeah, can't forget... that?" I offered. I tilted my head to look at the offending item. "Who doesn't need one of those?"

"You don't know what it is do you?"

"Not a clue." I paused. "And if it's something that you've bought for your weeklong shagathon, I'm honestly not sure that I want to."

"It's a Rudolph mask."

"Of course it is."

"For my penis."

"I am horrified."

He laughed. "But it's festive!"

"To paraphrase you, 'Please stop ruining Christmas with your dick, Steve.'"

"They also have a female version." He stared at me coyly. "Maybe you can give the Scottish Love God a Christmas treat."

I laughed. "Even if I had plans to sleep with Soap again, which I don't FYI, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't do it dressed up as a fictional reindeer."

He jingled the ball of fabric in his hand and turned to me with a wide grin. "They also have slutty workshop elf and slutty Mrs Santa outfits too." He paused. "If reindeer sex aint your bag."

I rolled my eyes. "Why does anything Christmas related have to be slutty?!"

He laughed before leaning forward and kissing the camera. "I love you my gorgeous girl."

"I love you too." I smiled. "Even if you're making it so much harder for me with every word that you speak."

"You enjoy it really."

I shook my head with a laugh. "Have fun!" I said. "And, please promise me, on Baby Jesus' life, that you will plan regular food and rehydration breaks. I can't fly to France to identify any dead bodies and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want your mother to see you trussed up as slutty Rudolph."

The colour drained from his face as he imagined the scenario. "Why did you put my mother and the Rudolph mask in the same sentence?!" He wailed.

"Think of it as my Christmas gift to you."

"Yeah, well, you SUCK." He laughed.

"Only when I'm asked politely."

He shook his head and with a final jingle of his Rudolph mask, his face disappeared from my screen.

I closed down Skype and stared at the background on my laptop. The image, a picture of Steve, Charlotte and I, taken last Christmas, made me smile and want to weep uncontrollably all at the same time. I missed them. I missed their familiarity and the feeling of normalcy that surrounded my days with them. It wasn't as if I ever really 'checked out' of my life in the SAS whilst in their company, no… that would be impossible, but it was good to feel as though I was just the Lola Jacobs that they knew, the one who liked to run outside at 3am on Christmas morning to make snow angels or the one who cried while watching 'It's a Wonderful Life' even though I had seen it a hundred times before, as opposed to Lieutenant Jacobs, the soldier… the person who worked day and night to keep the bad guys from their door and would do anything necessary to keep it that way.

I took one final look at the picture before closing my laptop down with a deep sigh.

It was too quiet here without the lads and after spending eleven weeks surrounded by the Yanks, who were notoriously loud and chatty, it wasn't a feeling that I was used to. I had come home two days early, forgoing the layover in Germany for a solo helicopter ride straight back to Credenhill. Under normal circumstances the stop in Germany was non-negotiable. It was a chance for soldiers to let off a bit of steam before heading back to their respective countries and was completely necessary in keeping us all sane. But I had cashed in on a favour that I was owed in a bid to get back to my home. I didn't need to blow off steam. I needed a hot shower, a good night's sleep and the chance to interact with my squad.

But the shower was cold and the lads weren't here.

Nobody was.

I was completely alone and I hated it.

It sounds obvious, but the homecoming was the best part of this job. It was the feeling I got when I watched the lads faces lighting up at my presence or the way that they would hug me. It was the incessant chatter about things that I had missed or the persistent questions about my mission. It was knowing the Price was glad to see me. He would never say as much but would regard me with a smirk on his face that spoke louder than any words.

My stomach jolted.

Price.

I pushed myself off the bed and slid my feet into a pair of trainers by the door. I had to get him out of my head. I needed noise and the only place that I would find it was on the television in the rec room which was on the other side of the base. I gave myself a once over in the mirror of my wardrobe. I lived in leggings, vests and jumpers when on the base and tonight was no different. Black nike leggings and a long grey cashmere jumper. I freed my hair from the top knot and shook it loose before turning towards the exit, closing the distance between my wardrobe and bedroom door in five steps and yanking the door open.

"Hi."

I almost fell over with shock.

"What the hell, Price?!" I gulped as adrenaline flooded my lungs making it hard for me to breathe.

He looked at me sheepishly. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Quick tip?" I offered, splaying my fingers across the rapid thumping in my chest. "People who do not wish to frighten generally don't spend time lurking outside bedroom doors."

"I wasn't lurking." He countered with a small grin. "I was loitering."

"Same difference, Price." I rolled my eyes.

"I just got back and saw that your light was on."

I pulled a face at him. I would have heard something if all the lads had returned. They were noisy bastards.

"Clarke passed out so Hunt had to bring him back." I raised an eyebrow at him. "He's fine. Just didn't eat enough this morning."

I nodded, releasing the door handle from my grip and stepping aside so that he could come in. He gestured in thanks and walked into my room before pausing to take in his surroundings. After a few long seconds, he edged to the corner of the room and sat down on the chair underneath my dressing table. I smirked at his awkwardness. Price had been in my room once in the entire time that I had been here. I think he felt that it was inappropriate for him to be here, especially when he deemed it out of bounds for the rest of the lads. I stalked across the room and sat down on the edge of my bed, facing him.

"Do you remember when I first moved here?" I asked him, pulling both legs up onto the bed and crossing them beneath me.

He gave me a puzzled look. "Is this some kind of trick?"

"Tricks are for kids, Price." I shook my head with a laugh. "I'm just wondering if you remember the conversation that we had when I had finished unpacking." I looked around the room. "You were sitting there and I was sitting here." I gestured to him.

He shrugged. "Enlighten me."

"You said…" I contorted my face to mimic the pinched look that Price wore on a daily basis. "Girl, if you ever find any of those bloody idiots lurking outside your room you're to tell me immediately and I'll deal with them." My cockney accent left a lot to be desired but Price was laughing, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"I remember." He said.

"So, my question, Captain, oh my Captain, is who do I speak to when the person lurking outside my room is you?"

He laughed. "I thought we decided that I was loitering."

"Maybe we can have a de-facto lurk interventionist for this kind of situation?" I said, ignoring him.

I stopped talking and we looked at one another in silence. The air was thick with the angry words that we had exchanged in our last conversation. I exhaled suddenly realising that I had been holding my breath.

"So things didn't go to plan then?" Price asked, breaking our deadlock.

"You could say that." I shrugged.

"You didn't get to him?"

"Oh no, I did, we spent the afternoon braiding each other's hair and gossiping about boys and then I painted his nails and we watched Rom-Coms until the early hours of the morning and I realised, he's really not that bad. It's all just a front." I gave him a pointed look.

He smirked. "It's impossible for you to take this seriously, isn't it?"

"Sometimes." I agreed. "It's just, I know that you'll have called Sandman and debriefed with him so you'll know exactly what I did for eleven weeks and exactly why we didn't get to Al-Asad."

Price nodded. "I spoke to Sandman last night." He paused. "Or rather, I listened to Sandman as he berated me over the phone for forty minutes."

I smirked at the mental image and to my relief, I found that Price was smirking too.

"He's lucky that I like him so much." Price grinned. "And that he made some very valid points." He paused. "... for a Yank."

I laughed. "I'm sure he'd be happy to know that you approve of him."

Sandman aka the Master Sergeant of the US Delta Force, was one of the few people that Price actually listened to. He was whip smart and obscenely good at what he did. He also took no shit from anybody which endeared him to my lovely Captain who had a low threshold for people who tried to bullshit him. In short, I adored Sandman and having worked with him before on various crossover operations, I was unspeakably happy that he had been the one to greet me when I had finally arrived in Azerbaijan.

"Apparently I'm not taking very good care of you." Price sighed.

My eyes met his. "I've not told him to say that to you, Price."

He held his hands up. "I know that, girl." He paused. "You forget that I've met him and I know that he doesn't do anything unless he wants to."

I rested my elbows on my knees and cupped my hands underneath my chin. "Do you agree with him?"

He sighed. "Like I said, he made some very valid points."

It was as much as I was going to get, I knew that much but from the way he was looking at me, I could tell that Price regretted our argument. He looked weary. Almost like he hadn't slept in the entire time that I had been gone.

"There's other people here who I could call upon, but I don't." He paused. "It's your own fault for being so good. They call and they want you. They don't ask for the others. It's as if nobody else exists." I laughed. "But, from here on out, I won't be shipping you off so readily." He smiled at me. "Those lazy sods have got some catching up do to and I need you around here."

I straightened up and stretched my arms above my head.

"You look skinny." He said.

"You look beardy." I retorted quickly.

He laughed. A real laugh where the corners of his eyes crinkled. It was a lovely sound. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders and it was a constant worry of mine that it was going to send him into an early grave.

There were voices outside. The lads were home. My stomach gave an involuntary jolt as Soap's voice came within earshot.

Did the Scottish accent have to sound so bloody sexy?

He looked at me. "I'll take that as a compliment." He stood up and turned towards the door. "Come on, I know that lads are dying to see you. Wallcroft's a heartbeat away from tattooing your name across his arse." He paused. "And I've bought pizza and beer."

I stood up and followed him, closing the door behind me.

"What did you do?" I asked.

He gave me a puzzled look.

"You buy pizza and beer when you've done something wrong, Price."

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, can't a guy just buy his squad something good?"

"A guy, yes. You, no."

He laughed. "I may have pushed them a bit harder than normal." I opened my mouth to respond as we stepped out into the cold December air. "But they deserved it." He paused. "...Kinda."

I shook my head. "You are a nightmare human being."

"So I've been told." He grinned. "Anyway, enough about me. Are you going to drive down to London on Christmas Eve?"

"Oh, change of plan." I said, pushing the door to the rec block. "Steve and Charlotte are both away so I'm going to stay here. I'm sure one the of the lads will be happy to take my week."

Price stopped walking. I could hear voices behind the door to the dining room. I was itching to see the lads but clearly, there was a problem.

"Lo, you need the break." He looked at me imploringly. "You've worked balls to the walls all year."

I shrugged. "It's not an issue, Price. I've barely been here so I'm happy to do it. If I did take the week, I'd only spend it by myself."

He opened his mouth to respond but then closed it again quickly before giving me a nod. Clearly, the argument wasn't over but for now he was letting it go.

"I'd better go in first." he said. "Age before beauty and all that."

"You're are beautiful Price, no matter what they say. Their words can't bring you down."

He muttered to himself as he walked through the door and I followed in his wake.

The lads were gathered at the table which was already strewn with beer bottles and pizza boxes. Gaz, the only member of the squad facing the door, spotted me immediately and jumped up out of his seat.

"You're back!"

Wallcroft turned around. "Oh, it's a Christmas miracle!"

"I think he's talking to you." I grinned at Price.

"Do you think he's ever this excited to see me?" He asked.

"On the inside." I laughed.

Wallcroft was suddenly in front of me and was scooping me up into his arms. "I don't like it when you're away." He squeezed me tightly.

"Put her down, soft lad." Gaz said, stepping into Wallcroft's spot as soon as my feet touched the floor.

He hugged me. "Glad to see you're back in one piece."

"Snap." I smiled.

He released me and I found myself back in Wallcroft's arms as he put me in a fireman's lift over his shoulder.

"I can walk." I laughed as he walked over to the table.

Soap was watching us. My eyes met his and he gave me the most surreptitious of winks. Butterflies pooled in my stomach.

I wanted him to hug me.

I wanted to feel his strong body against mine.

I had spent eleven weeks remembering the way that he had kissed me in that corridor. You couldn't just forget a kiss like that.

Wallcroft dumped me into a chair and sat down next to me. A pair of hands appeared on my shoulders as Hunt bent down to kiss the top of my head.

"Hello stranger." He mumbled into my ear. "Boy, have I missed you."

I looked up at him with a grin.

He wore the same weary look as Price. My eyes scanned the table and I noticed that they all looked exhausted.

"How's Clarke, Doc?" Soap asked as Hunt reached across the table to grab a beer.

"He'll survive." He took a long swig. "And I'm sure he won't forget to eat breakfast again."

I looked down the table at Soap. He was watching me. I gave him a small smile before turning to the bottle that Wallcroft was putting in front of me. Feeling Soap's gaze lingering on me, I turned back to look at him. My stomach jolted as he mouthed 'hi'.

Wallcroft nudged me, drawing my attention back to him. "You look skinny." He told me. "Haven't you been eating?"

"Yes, dad." I glared at him. "But I've also been working. You might want to try it sometime."

He ignored me and pulled one of the pizza boxes towards him.

"You have to eat at least three slices." He commanded. "No arguments, Lola."

I looked up at him and my eyes skimmed to Soap once again. He was grinning. I rolled my eyes and he nodded as if he could read my mind.

The butterflies in my stomach started to whirl around. I opened my mouth to say something to him but was interrupted by Price, banging his fist on the table. I turned to look at him as he rose to his feet.

"Let's all raise a beer to the big guy upstairs for getting Lola home safe."

Bottles were raised as the lads all murmured their thanks for my safe arrival. Wallcroft nudged the pizza box towards me.

"I get it Papa John." I laughed, reaching for a slice.

He narrowed his eyes at me.

"I'd also like to clear up some business." Price said. "I'm only going to say this once so I want you all to listen." He was looking at me. "Things are going to change." He paused. "The great thing about this squad is that we are the best of the best. We do the things that others can't and for that reason, I know that every person in this room is capable of doing the things that Lo has done over the past twelve months" He tore his gaze away from me. "So for that reason, I'm going to be calling on the rest of you to shoulder some of the burden of these secondments. She's good, but so are all of you. You would be here otherwise. And you could all benefit from a little more culture."

"Agreed." Gaz called.

The rest of the lads began to voice their positive feelings to Price's speech.

"And on that note, I'm hoping that you'll agree that Lo is overdue some time off."

"She has the time off, doesn't she?" Wallcroft asked. He turned to me. "Don't you?"

"Steve is away skiing and Charlotte has extended her tour so I figured I'd just give my week to somebody else."

"And I think I speak for everybody here when I say that nobody is going to take you up on that offer." Price said.

I rolled my eyes. "Price, I'd rather be here than home alone in Beaconsfield."

"There's nobody else that you can go to?"

I glared at him. He knew the situation. I had anticipated some kind of backlash to my news that I was to forgo my holiday but I didn't think he was going to bring it up in such a public forum.

"Price-"

"-So the trip home alone is out." He said, cutting me off. "Any other bright ideas, lads?"

There was a lull in the conversation as they all turned to one another.

The silence was painful.

"Can I-" I started.

"-She can come home with me."

I whipped my head around to look at Soap.

What?

I stole a glance at Gaz who looked like he was about to combust.

Soap, suddenly aware that all eyes were on him, looked up at me and shrugged. "It's only the three of us and my mam always makes too much food. They'd be happy to take you in."

A week with Soap away from the confines of the SAS?

Our kiss replayed in my brain.

I blinked the image away nervous that the memory would register on my face.

"Seems like a good idea to me." Price said.

I turned to him, my face a picture of shock.

The last time I had seen him we had been arguing about the fact that he thought Soap had a crush on me and now he was advising me to go and spend a week alone with him?

"What do you think Lo?"

It was a challenge.

It had to be.

There's no other logical reason as to why Price, the man who had banned all men from stepping a foot into my room, would think that this was a good plan.

If I said no he would know that something was wrong. If I said yes, I would have to spend a week alone with Soap.

If we couldn't keep away from each other whilst Price and Gaz were in the same building, how the hell was I going to cope when they were in a completely different part of the country?

PPrice raised an eyebrow at me.

I set my jaw and glared back.

"I think..." I turned to Soap. "... That I would love to."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.