First update of 2017 and it feels so good!

This chapter has been chopped and changed more times than Kylie Jenner and now runs at a pretty ridiculous 19 pages. I quite like writing chapters where Lola interacts with Steve and Charlotte as I can truly let my snark flag fly so these chapters always end up being so long! There's not really much action so to speak, but it plants a few seeds and sets a couple of things in motion.

I've had quite a few messages since I last updated and I just wanted to let all those people know that I'm so grateful that you seem to like reading this as much as I like writing it. I'd love to have the time to write and post more chapters, but my plate is already pretty full and it's a struggle. Plus, i love this story and I don't want to post garbage. I want to make you laugh and cry and all the emotions in between so you'll have to just stick with me.

Comments, messages, reviews are always welcome! Drop in and say hello. I don't bite :) xx

"Lola had sex with Soap in a forest."

"Steve!" I glared at his half of the computer screen. Charlotte had literally only been in the conversation for a millisecond and he was spilling my secrets without a care in the world. "When I said, 'Don't tell anybody or I'll bury you' did you think that I was joking? Do I give you the impression that I rely on false threats? Because I can promise you that I really don't. Ask Alan."

He narrowed his eyes. "Who's Alan?"

I nodded my head, pausing for dramatic effect. "Exactly."

He rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I forgot that people might be listening!" He leant towards the camera so that only his mouth was visible. "Charlotte, don't tell anybody but Lola had sex in the middle of a forest with that really gorgeous Scottish man that we're all pretending isn't her boyfriend." He leant back and gave me a look. "Even though it's painfully obvious that he is because she went home with him at Christmas and bought his parents a house and other normal things that girlfriends do."

I rolled my eyes. "Christmas was three months ago, and he still isn't my boyfriend Steve." I rolled my eyes. "And I hope to God that you never have to sit through an interrogation. We'd all be doomed."

"But you want him to be your boyfriend because you lurrrrrve him." He looked at me. "And, also... are you kidding me?!" He scoffed. "I have a fool proof plan that would get me through any kind of abduction scenario. Mark and I have discussed it at great detail."

"I'm sorry... Mark?" I asked. "I don't seem to recall anybody named Mark."

He sighed. "You can't keep on calling him McDeamy, Lola. He has an actual name."

"I know that."

"And it isn't Derek Shepherd."

"Whatever you say Meredith." I shrugged.

"You're super bitchy for a guy who's fucking an A+ McDreamy lookalike." Charlotte laughed.

Steve clutched a hand to his chest. "We do not fuck, Charlotte. We make sweet tender love."

"Why?" She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Because sweet tender lovemaking is the best! Just ask Lola! I bet she and Soap recite poetry whilst staring into one another's eyes."

"How dare you." I glared at him. "We bone furiously and rap awful, derogatory lyrics to one another."

"But you still love him a little bit." Steve said. "Like, 1%. Maybe 2% on a good day."

"Steve!" I shouted. "I do not love him!"

"Okay, time to drop this before somebody starts crying." Charlotte interjected. "I'm looking at you here Steve."

"Once." He muttered under his breath. "I cried once. And! In my defence, Lola was criticising my hair."

"And he had been drinking gin." I nodded. "We all know that gin tears don't count. Especially when you've had a really bad haircut."

"It was supposed to look like that!"

"By that, I'm assuming you mean shit?"

"HEY STEVE!" Charlotte shouted over us. "How would you get through an interrogation?" She paused. "Because that was a thing, wasn't it? Like, five hours ago when this conversation first started and you weren't both yelling at eachother about Steve's terrible haircut."

"Charlotte!"

"I'm sorry handsome, but it was really bad. You looked like you'd lost a fight with a lawnmower." She soothed him, softly. "But you're so hot that you kind of pulled it off."

He grinned, puffing his chest out proudly at her compliment. "Okay, so! Mark-" I coughed loudly and he scowled at me. "McDreamy... and I have had a surprising amount of conversations about abductions and how we'd escape."

"Oh God, I can't wait to hear this." Charlotte laughed.

"Don't encourage him Char. It's like how you should never feed stray cats because they'll keep coming back."

"Are you comparing me to a stray cat? Are you saying that the only reason we're friends is because of that time that you gave me a bite of your pizza that one time?"

"Yes." I said. "That is absolutely what I'm doing." I paused. "And if I recall, I didn't exactly give you a bite. You wrestled me to the floor and stuffed the entire slice in your mouth in one go."

"It's my party trick." He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"Being greedy isn't a trick Steve. It's a disease."

"Ignore Lola. You know how she gets when she's hangry." Charlotte laughed, winking at me. "Tell me how you'd manage to escape if you were captured."

"Thanks Char." He smiled at her. "It's good to know that I have one friend who isn't a complete dick."

"Steve!" I hissed. "Charlotte is right there! Don't be so rude about her."

Steve glared at me. "As I was saying…" He straightened up and leant into the camera conspiratorially. "My fool proof plan involves the three B's"

"Oh God…" I groaned.

Having been friends with Steve for nearly 10 years, I was more than aware of the three B's and boy, do I wish that I wasn't.

"Baking, Britney and Beautiful by Christina Aguilera."

"I… I'm failing to see how the three could help you escape a hostage situation, but okay." Charlotte sounded rightfully confused at Steve's insane ramblings.

"Step One -"

"-Oh good, there's more than one step. I was hoping that this would last for a while. It's not like I have anything else to do like, hmmm, i don't know MY JOB?" I groaned.

"STEP ONE." Steve repeated, his voice rising both in volume and pitch. "I bake my captors the best god damn chocolate soufflé that they – nay THE WORLD – has ever seen."

"Soufflé?" Charlotte's voice was failing to hide her scepticism, which was good seeing as Steve was clearly mental. "You think that the kind of people who would hold somebody hostage, are also the type of people who enjoy baked goods?"

"Everybody likes soufflé." He looked as Charlotte as if she was a moron which, she clearly was because she'd made friends with him in the first place.

"Ahhh, that's where we've been coming undone!" I mused, sarcastically. "We think that we can solve our problems with a strong military presence, tactful negotiations and strong allegiances but really, what we need to do is employee Mary Berry to dole out cakes to everybody and we'd achieve world peace in days." I stared at him. "Have I ever told you that you're an idiot? Because you are."

"Step two." He said, completing ignoring us. "Once my captors finish eating my world famous-"

"-You can't just dub something world famous, Steve." I laughed. "Especially when you are the only person who is aware of what your soufflé tastes like." I turned to Charlotte. "I don't remember a soufflé, do you? I remember the time he tricked me into eating gluten free cupcakes BECAUSE IT STILLS HAUNTS ME…" I glared at Steve. "But I don't recall a soufflé."

"That's because you are undeserving of my soufflé. I only make it for people that I love. Plus, high profile celeb pals."

"You have never met any celebrities and, therefore, have no high profile celeb pals to speak of."

"I saw Benedict Cumberbatch walking down Oxford Street last week." He gave me a look. "He winked at me and I'm now a fully-fledged Cumberbitch."

"I'm sure he's thrilled." I mumbled.

"Oh, I would rock his goddamn world and you know it. Sherlock? More like share-my-cock with him because he's so handsome."

"I feel like he would definitely wake you up with tea and toast in the morning." Charlotte sighed dreamily. "And he'd buy you flowers just because. And he'd send you good morning beautiful texts and read poetry to you in the bath."

"Is he in the bath or are you?" I asked. "It's very important to know who goes where in this scenario."

"I'd be in the bath obviously."

"Would he knock before he came in and started reading the poetry?" I stared at her. "Or would he just barge in and force you to listen? You'd obviously be naked because you're in the bath, but would he also be naked? Because it's kind of weird when one person is naked and one person is fully dressed and reading poetry to them whilst they are in the bath."

"Who hurt you?" Steve looked at me with his best serious face. "Who broke your heart and left you cold?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Also, are we talking about the same person?" I asked. "The guy that looks like a confused owl? Kind of attractive if you squint and do a headstand at the same time?"

"Well they can't all be big Scottish dreamboats can they, Lo?"

"I have no idea to whom you are referring." I glared at him. "Unless it's Mel Gibson in Braveheart."

Steve pulled a face. "Mel Gibson? Not even if he paid me."

"Why is he paying you? Do you have something to tell us?" I asked him.

"I get what you're doing." He told me. "You're trying to distract me from the fact that you're in loooooove with Soap."

"I can kill you and make it look like an accident, you know." I glared at him. "I have contacts now. Really useful contacts."

"Anyway… back to the task at hand. Do you love your captors?" Charlotte asked. "You're suffering from Stockholm syndrome? That's why you're making them soufflé?"

"Yeah, did you fall in love with them prior to being captured or afterwards? Was it an inside job?" I paused. "I think you need to develop your backstory a little bit more. Like, we get that you've been taken hostage, but why? What have you done? Of all the people in the world, why have they taken you? Do you know something that we don't? Wait! Are you a spy? Did they base James Bond on you? Have you been teleported here from the 50's?! Is the whole gay thing actually just a subterfuge?" I gasped. "Is that why you went through a phase of cutting the holes into the sides of my t-shirts so that I was always showing sideboob?"

"OKAY." Steve shouted, clearly exasperated by my incessant questioning and uncanny knack of twisting his words to my own advantage. "Can we all just stop focusing on the soufflé and the backstory and move onto step two?" He paused. "Plus, RIP Lola's sideboob."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Maybe you could add the backstory as the fourth b?" Charlotte laughed.

I laughed. "I mean, I'm not sure that either of us should trust you anymore now that we know you're a heterosexual superspy sent from the past, but its fine for you to continue." I paused. "Bond. James Bond."

"Oh, thanks…" he mumbled sarcastically. "You're so kind. How did I get so lucky as to have two completely normal and rational best friends?"

"It's an affliction, but we're coping with it."

"So step two?" Charlotte asked. "I'm assuming step two involves Britney?"

"Very perceptive mon amour." He grinned at her.

"What's with the French, Gérard Depardieu?"

"IT MAKES ME SOUND MORE CULTURED."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Spoiler alert – it doesn't."

"Errrrrr, spoiler alert 2.0, you're a super bitch."

I blew a kiss at him.

"But I still love you, so it's fine." He smiled. "But, I will scream if you don't let me finish explaining my masterplan."

"I'm sorry." I looked at him. "Please continue Nigella."

He glared at me. "Step two. I entertain my captors by dancing to ten of Queen Britney's greatest hits."

We sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Erm, I'm not even sure that Britney has ten good songs. Like, Slave for You is bomb and Everytime makes me weep like a child and I always pretend I'm in the video every time I have a bath but, I'm pretty sure that's it."

"I do that too!" Charlotte laughed. "I liked it when she shaved her head and married that weird guy who always wore sweatpants that were too big for him."

"Britney Jean Spears is a Saint. A beautiful, misunderstood Saint." Steve bit out every single word as if he was struggling not to smash his computer to smithereens. "And Kevin Federline is a conman."

"You're like, one step away from turning into that guy who cried about Britney on YouTube."

"But he was right! PEOPLE NEED TO LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE."

"And, there it is." I grinned. "Everything about this moment is perfect. Like, if I died tomorrow, I'd be pretty content."

"That's good, because I'm about five minutes away from killing you myself." He glared at me.

I snorted. "Yeah, okay. Because that's a totally realistic thing that could happen."

"Okay! That's enough!" Charlotte shouted over both of us. "So they're eating their soufflé and now watching you dance to Britney." Charlotte said.

"They're not just watching me dance Charlotte." He scoffed. "They are mesmerized by me. I am a vision in a sequin crop top, low slung denim and glittering body oil." He stared into the distance. "And maybe a snake. It depends on where in the world I am."

"Because that's how it works…" I laughed. "Captors often let hostages out so that they can go and find props for their dance numbers." I gave him a look. "Especially dangerous, venomous props that could kill them."

"I hate you." He looked at me. "And the only reason we're still friends is because I'm hoping that you'll send me a naked picture of your super fit Scottish boyfriend."

"He's still not my boyfriend." I paused. "And I wouldn't send you photos of him naked even if he was. i would save them all for myself and then allude to their contents every single time that we spoke."

"Don't be a dick, Lo. Just send me one!" He pouted. "Not even full on nudity. Just the dick. And the abs. OH! And the arms. And the shoulders…" He sighed. "And you said he's got good those thick, meaty thighs so you may as well include them."

"He sounds like he needs to be pretty naked to me." Charlotte laughed.

Steve shrugged. "Fine, just send like, ten fully naked pictures and we'll leave it there."

"Never going to happen." I told him. "In this, or any other of your lifetimes James Bond."

"Wait! So, okay… you're mesmerizing them with your sequins and your Britney choreography." Charlotte looked bemused. "So what does step three entail? You singing Beautiful to them and they cry?"

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffed.

"Yeah, Charlotte." I deadpanned. "Can't you be serious for once? God. Some of us are trying to have a normal conversation here. You always have to turn everything into a joke?"

She shrugged.

"They'd sing it to me, obviously." Steve straightened up as if he was readying himself for the onslaught of questions.

"Because of the first two steps? The soufflé and the gyrating?"

"Now you're getting it!" Steve grinned at her. "And, y'know, because I am beautiful." He glared at me. "No matter what Lola says."

"You know that I think you're a beautiful, majestic starfish, Steve." I laughed. "But you would almost certainly be killed if you were ever taken hostage." I stared at him. "Or you'd be eaten by a snake, or something."

"Oh, yeah... absolutely. You wouldn't last five minutes." Charlotte agreed. "Sorry hot stuff."

"No soufflé?" He asked.

"I don't think most criminals would have soufflé making facilities."

"And I'm not sure that they'd like to see a man dancing around in a sparkly crop top and low slung jeans." Charlotte said.

"And they almost certainly don't know the words to Beautiful." I laughed.

He pulled a face. "I hate you guys." He huffed. "I don't get this kind of grief from my friends in work."

"We've been over this Steve." I said. "You aren't allowed other friends. You can have acquaintances if you really need to but no new friends. "

"Or, if you do want to have a new friend, then you have to put in an application to us and we have the power to approve or deny said friendship."

"You're both ridiculous."

"Oh, we're so sorry, Britney." I muttered.

He glared at me. "Okay, so if I wanted to put an application in-"

"-No blondes." I said. "Or brunettes."

"Charlotte has black hair." Steve said.

"But it goes slightly lighter in the sun." Charlotte countered. "So I basically cover all dark hair in general."

"And you don't want to be friends with redheads." I said. "They're generally a bit mad."

"You have ginger friends." He pointed out.

"Yeah, and look how well that's turning out! Price is an absolute lunatic."

"What about Owen?" Charlotte asked.

"Owen is the only normal ginger person on the planet and I would encourage Steve to be friends with him but he'd probably try and touch his dick and things would get really weird."

"You know me so well." He sighed. "Right. So, they have to have grey hair."

I pulled a face. "I mean, Charlotte and I are both going to go grey at some point." I looked at her. "Sorry babe."

"So, they have to be bald?"

I nodded.

"They can't have green eyes." Charlotte said. "Or blue eyes."

"And my dad always said not to trust anybody with hazel eyes." I told him.

"So brown eyes are okay?"

"Define okay..."

"Okay, so they can't have hair or eyes. Cool."

"They can't be female either." I said. "Or effeminate men."

"You realise I'm gay, right? Effeminate men are my bread and butter."

"Not anymore." Charlotte smiled her most dazzling smile at him.

He rolled his eyes. "So I can be friends with... a genderless human with no hair, or eyes."

"Probably best to just avoid humans altogether." Charlotte nodded. "Lola and I have that covered."

"So, who can I be friends with?"

"Ooooh! What about a plant?" I smiled at him encouragingly.

He stared at me. "A plant?"

"Yes! A nice cactus or something." Charlotte was suddenly animated.

"Plants that I can't even touch." He mumbled sarcastically. "Great. Can't wait!"

"That's the spirit!" I said. "You and your cactus plant painting the town red!"

"Can I at last choose a name for my new friend?"

I shook my head. "The plant is to be referred to as Cactus McCactusface."

He laughed. "God, I miss you both."

"I'll hopefully have some time off in June." Charlotte said. "I can come and stay for a couple of days if you fancy?"

"June?" He pulled a face. "But, that's three whole months away!"

She sighed. "I know, but things have gone a bit mad, haven't they Lo?"

I nodded at her with a sigh.

Mad was a little bit of an understatement.

Imagine, if you will, that you were riding a bike. Sounds easy right? Now, imagine that you are still riding that bike, but the bike is on fire. And you're on fire. And everything is on fire because guess what… you're in hell.

That's how it feels to be a part of the British military at this very moment in time. It wasn't so much that shit had hit the fan in the three months since Christmas, but, rather, the shit had been flung at the fan with the velocity of a thousand supernovas. There was no fan left. It was all just shit. One big, flaming pile of shit and millions of people riding around on their flaming bikes wondering just what the fuck had happened.

It was almost hilarious that Soap and I thought we would be able to just swan about having secret sex in between assignments. We must have been drunk, or high from the sheer amount of sex that we'd had.

I mean, it didn't help that Price had suddenly decided to ramp up Soap's Captain training by sending him out on all the foreign jobs that came our way as a way of building his relationships with the various factions that we relied on during warfare. He hadn't actually been around the base for about four weeks now and couldn't have spent longer than two weeks here in total since the start of January.

It took me approximately two days into his first assignment for me to start missing him.

Actually missing him.

The kind of missing where the only thing that could lift me out of my perpetual bad mood was the daily 'good morning, gorgeous' texts that he would send me.

Yeah... Who'd have thunk it? Soap MacTavish was one of those guys.

And worse still, I'd become the kind of girl who would smile uncontrollably every single time.

And obviously we made the best of the time in which he was back in Credenhill. We had managed to have sex every time that he had been home, which is an impressive feat even if I do say so myself.

There'd been the amazing sex in the shower (seriously with the bathroom theme here), or the equally amazing time that he had somehow managed to sneak into my room after hours one night. We'd had fast, furious sex in my office in the medical wing – somehow managing to avoid Hunt's watchful gaze – and the last time I had seen him had led to one particularly risky moment during a one-on-one training session in the Brecon Beacons when he'd dragged me into the middle of the lushest part of the forest and pushed me up against a tree and fucked me into the middle of next week. Honestly, I'm not sure how I'd managed to run back to the base. He left for Russia that evening, and I'd been picking splinters out of my arse for a week.

Life hack: don't have sex up against trees with big, strong men.

Actually, no... I take that back. Have as much sex as is humanly possible. It is your duty in life.

"Oh my god!" Steve's squeal snapped me out of my trance.

"Christ on a bike, Steve!" I glared at the screen, my ears ringing. "Wanna turn the volume down a bit?"

"I think that Christ would prefer to get around in a nice Ferrari."

I span around at the sound of his voice.

"Hi Soap!" Steve shouted.

In the excitement, I completely forgot that I wasn't supposed to be this happy to see him and I jumped up from my chair, rushing towards him.

"Uh, Wallcroft is here too!" Soap said quickly, probably sensing that I was about to throw my arms around him and attempt to stick my tongue down his throat. "The old man has sent us both to fetch you. Some big news apparently."

I stopped in my tracks. "Wallcroft is here?"

"Yeah, he was just behind me but then he got distracted by a pretty moth or something, so I walked on ahead." He shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know how he manages to tie his own shoes in the morning." He paused and looking at me in horror. "Wait. Are his shoes velcro?"

I laughed before turning to look at Charlotte.

"Brace yourself." I looked back at Soap, who looked completely bemused. "Wallcroft has a bit of a thing for Char-"

"- OH THERE SHE IS." Wallcroft bounded into my room like a man possessed. "My future wife, looking as radiant as ever." He sat down on my chair. "I'm still shocked that the other angels haven't realised that you're missing yet. Shocked but extremely grateful. Their loss is Earth's gain."

I rolled my eyes. "And I'm still shocked that the mental asylum from which you escaped haven't realised that you're missing yet. Their loss is our wildly infuriating hindrance. " He ignored me, and stroked the half of the screen that currently displayed Charlotte's face. "Oh God. Please stop pawing at my computer." I walked towards him and reached for his hand, yanking it away. "I don't even want to know why your fingers are sticky."

"Lola! There's no need to get jealous! I've told you that I would be happy to commit to both of you at the same time. You could split the week 50/50." He paused. "Or, better yet, we could all live together, under one roof. One big happy, sexy family – clothes optional. Channel 4 could make a documentary about us. It would be called, 'The Man who has so much sex that his dick might fall off'."

"Or it could be called, 'The Man who lost his dick in a very unfortunate accident that involved a pair of scissors?'" I smirked at him.

Soap laughed loudly.

Without warning, Wallcroft stood up quickly, and pulled my head towards his chest. "I know that it's hard to let me go, but it's probably for the best."

"Please stop clutching me to your bosom." I pushed at him. "I don't deserve this punishment."

He released me with a grin, and sat back down in front of the computer. "Steve. I'm not leaving you out mate. You're still the most handsome guy I know and if I was gay, you'd know I'd be all up in them guts."

"Oh God." I groaned.

"It would never work Ben." Steve told him. "You're just way too much man for me." He paused. "And, besides, there's somebody else."

Wallcroft froze. "Oh, I get it." He span around and looked at Soap. "You've only got eyes for the big Scottish hunk now." He sighed. "You and the rest of the bloody world, mate!"

"Well, no-"

Wallcroft ignored him, jumping up from the chair and moving towards Soap, who was watching the entire scene with a look of complete bemusement/horror splashed across his face. Wallcroft grabbed his arm and yanked him in front of the camera.

"Hi guys." Soap gave Charlotte and Steve a bashful wave. "I'm not sure what's happening but it's nice to see you both."

"What's happening, John…" I raised an eyebrow at Wallcroft's use of Soap's proper forename. "Is that Steve and Charlotte are going end this argument once and for all."

I pulled a face at him. "What argument?"

"The who's hotter argument."

I wanted to tell him that there was no argument. Wallcroft was a decent looking guy but Soap? Soap was handcrafted by the Gods. Had he always been this attractive or was absence making the heart grow fonder?

"So what they're going to do is rate us out of ten for different body parts." He paused. "We'll do face, arms, stomach, legs, arse and, finally, we'll drop trou and go for the proper full Monty. We'll add up the scores and the highest one wins. It's the only way that we'll find out which one of us is the best looking."

I pulled a face at him. "What a ridicu-"

"-Shut up Lola!" Steve hissed.

"Yeah Lola." Charlotte grinned. "This is obviously a very scientific experiment and it is our duty to be involved."

Steve agreed, his face splitting wide into his trademark mischievous grin. "Start with the abs."

Wallcroft had managed to remove his own t-shirt and was halfway through dragging Soap's over his head before I was able to intervene. And whilst this entire thing was completely ridiculous, I did have to admit that the sight of Soap's rock hard stomach did make me go a bit weak at the knees.

10/10.

"This isn't an audition for the Chippendales Wallcroft!" I growled at him as I, somehow, managed to wrestle Soap's t-shirt back down over his shoulders without passing out. Goddamn those shoulders.

On a scale of 1-10, how bad was it that it felt weird to dress Soap instead of undress him?

He looked at me with silent, thankful eyes and skulked out of the room before anybody else could start trying to take his clothes off.

"Booooooooo." Charlotte heckled. "Somebody get rid of the crazy woman."

"Okay." I turned to the screen. "Show's over guys."

"Soap forfeited so clearly I'm the winner." Wallcroft called. "Which means that Charlotte has to marry me one day."

"It doesn't mean that in the slightest." I told him. "We don't live in some weird world where you can compete for a woman's hand in marriage by removing your tshirt."

"Clearly you've never watched The Bachelorette." He looked at me. "Which I am definitely going to enter someday."

"I worry for you."

"Erm, I worry for all of us when Price wants to know why the hell we've taken so long to get to briefing." Soap called from the hallway.

I span around to the screen. "Gotta go guys. Char, stay safe. Steve… just keep trying not to injure yourself please."

"I'll try but, sometimes I get distracted by my own reflection and I trip over or bump into things."

"I… I'm not surprised by that in the slightest." I shook my head with a laugh. "I love you both!"

They barely had a chance to shout goodbye before I had snapped my laptop shut and turned back to look at Wallcroft.

"Did you hit your head in Russia?" I asked him. "Or suffer head trauma of any kind?"

He pulled a face at me. "No, but I don't know why-"

I stepped forward and clipped him around the back of his skull. Not hard enough for it to actually hurt, but enough to make him jump. "That's for trying to get naked in my room!"

"OW!" He jumped away from me before I could get a second swing in. "You didn't seem to mind all the other times!"

I glared at him. "What other times?!"

He stopped moving and looked at me sheepishly. "What's that now?"

I growled at him, reaching over to the bed and picking up a sweatshirt before stalking out of my room to join Soap in the corridor.

"You've got my back, right?"

He raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "That depends on what you need."

Dat ass.

"Lolaaaaa." Wallcroft trailed behind me, and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "I've missed you. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happyyyyyy-"

Soap fell into step beside me, an amused smirk lighting up his features.

"-I might need you to help me dump a body tonight." I grinned. "Wallcroft's going to have an unfortunate accident."

He stopped singing. "I am?"

"Yes."

"What am I going to do?"

"You're going to accidentally run into my knife eighteen times."

He loosened his grip on my shoulders and to my other side so that the three of us were walking in a line. "I mean, eighteen is a little excessive even for a klutz like me. Make it ten and you've got yourself a deal."

"Fifteen and that's my final offer."

"Sold." He nudged me with his shoulder. "Could you maybe take your top off? If I have to die it would be nice if I could see some boobs at the same time."

"Absolutely not."

"Just one boob? The left one if I'm allowed to be picky."

"Why the left?" Soap asked.

Wallcroft span around so that he was standing in front of us and walking backwards. "Don't act like you haven't noticed that the left one has the best bounce. It's like it has its own built in soundtrack."

"You're a pervert." I reached out to push him with a smirk. He caught my arm, and pulled me to him, spinning me around so that my back was pressed up against his chest. Without warning he dipped me as if we were about to re-enact an old school Hollywood kiss.

"God, you're going to be such a great second wife."

"You've got more chance of getting Soap to marry you." I laughed.

"Funny you should mention that." Wallcroft grinned as he straightened up, pulling me to my feet. "We got pretty close in Russia, didn't we ol' buddy, ol' pal?"

I raised an eyebrow at Soap. "I thought we weren't telling anybody." he joked. "A love like ours is best kept away from prying eyes."

"Which one of you is the top?" I asked.

Wallcroft stopped dead in his tracks. "God Lola, you always have to take things one step too far."

He said nothing else, pushing through the door of the briefing room with the smallest of camp flourishes.

"What's a top?" Soap looked at me.

I laughed. "Oh Soap. Sweet, innocent, Soap. So handsome, yet so naïve."

"Do I want to be the top?" He looked at me worriedly.

I laughed, and followed in Wallcrofts footsteps. Scanning the room, I noticed that Price and Gaz were both absent. Soap followed me towards the far side of the room where there was a small table that we could use as a makeshift seat. He jumped up next to me, his hand brushing against mine. I gave him a sideways glance and he smirked at me in response. I forced my eyes to look front and centre.

"Hi." He whispered.

"Hi yourself."

I moved slightly closer to him and leant back on my hands so that they were hidden behind my body. He copied my pose, resting his hand on the top of mine but kept his eyes focused ahead so that if anybody were to look at us, they'd have no idea of what was happening. Luckily, the room was buzzing with excited chatter and we didn't have to work too hard to keep our voices low enough that nobody else was privy to our conversation.

"I've had a lot of time alone with my thoughts over the past four weeks." He told me.

"Is that right?" I asked. "Any illuminating moments of clarity?"

He laughed. "Not quite." I smiled at the sound of his voice and his fingers tightened around mine. "What was our rule about honesty?" He asked me.

"You know what the rule was." I told him.

He laughed. "So, in the spirit of following the rules, I have to tell you, that I've spent a lot of time imagining your legs wrapped around my neck."

My entire body flushed with goose bumps and I suddenly forgot how to breathe.

"What do you think about that?" He asked me.

I swallowed and turned to look at him for the first time since we'd sat down. "I think that it's quite weird that we've been imagining the same thing."

"That is weird." He smirked and his eyes settled on my mouth.

"Hi guys!" Wallcroft appeared in front of us. "What are you talking about?" He didn't wait for an answer but busied himself by pushing his arse into the small space between mine and Soap's thighs and wrapping an arm around each of our shoulders. "Ah, the three musketeers reunited at last!"

"Nobody calls us that." I growled at him, annoyed that the moment between Soap and I had been snatched away.

"Give it time." He assured me by patting my knee. "They will."

"I'd rather they didn't." Soap said from beside him.

"Hey!" Wallcroft turned to him and nudged him with his elbow. "How does it feel to be the second best looking guy in the room?"

The chatter of the room suddenly dimmed as Price entered flanked by Gaz. He looked around frantically before his eyes found mine. He looked at Wallcroft and Soap before turning back to me.

"I wasn't aware that you'd taken a midweek trip to Mars."

I shrugged. "I found a good deal online. Five star, all inclusive."

"Oh, did you?"

I nodded. "Yep. I'd recommend it. Just make sure you bring your human sacrifice for the alien overlords. They won't let you through customs without it."

He shook his head. "When I say get to the briefing room quickly, I mean it."

"Then don't send Wallcroft to fetch me." I pointed at the idiot beside me. "Honestly, you're lucky that we managed to get here without us having to stop so that I could pull a marble out of his nose."

"That happened one time." Wallcroft said, glaring at me. "And you've never let me live it down."

"You were 28!" I shouted.

"My curiosity doesn't subside with my age Lola."

"I also sent Soap." Price countered, talking over us before we could start arguing. "He's not an idiot."

"Yeah, but they kind of cancel each other out." I said. "Look, truthfully, I was speaking to Char on Skype and you know how Wallcroft gets when he sees her."

"How many layers of clothes did he manage to get off before you stopped him?" Gaz asked with a smirk.

"Only the one."

Gaz nodded his head with surprise. "Impressive."

"Of all the things I've accomplished that's what you find impressive?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I've seen Wallcroft strip off more times than I'd like to count. I know how quickly he can move."

"Can you all stop talking about me like I'm not here?"

"We would but you keep on coming back." I told him. Gaz laughed loudly.

Wallcroft reached for me, pulling my head against his chest again. "I get it." He stroked my head and shushed me like I was a panicked dog. "This is because I said you'd be my second wife."

"Oh, you've got me…" I deadpanned, whilst attempting to push myself out of his grasp. "I'm so transparent."

"Look, what can I say, Charlotte and I just have this connection-"

"- you don't."

"-this connection that just speaks to my heart, body and soul."

"Stop." I tried to free myself but he just tightened his grip.

"Thousands of years from now, they'll speak of our love-"

"-they won't."

"Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Pepe Le Pew and Penelope Pussycat-"

"-You need to stop watching cartoons, mate." Soap laughed.

"-Ben Wallcroft and Charlotte Jones"

"That's not her surname." I said, finally managing to free myself. "It's not even close."

"Johnson?"

I shook my head.

He looked perplexed. "It definitely begins with a J."

"It definitely doesn't."

"K?"

"This is getting embarrassing Wall-"

"POTTS! CHARLOTTE'S SURNAME IS POTTS!" Price exploded. "AND WE HAVE OTHER THINGS TO DISCUSS THAN WHO WALLCROFT WILL OR WON'T MARRY."

The whole room fell silent and we all stared at him open-mouthed. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before counting to ten in a strained voice.

It seemed like a really bad time to tell him that her surname was actually Potter.

"Play the video, Gaz." He growled. "Remind these morons why they're here."

"Yes Sir."

Gaz moved to the front of the room, and took his place behind the computer. A few quick taps on the keyboard lead to the projector starting up, illuminating the longest wall of the room. Gaz reached over to the light switch, plunging the rest of the room into darkness.

"He's talking about you." I hissed at Wallcroft. "You're the moron."

"Takes one to know one, Lola."

I smirked, nudging him with my shoulder.

"We received this video through an hour ago."

He pressed a final button, and the screen was suddenly filled with a picture that made the smirk slide off my face.

"Is that Al-Asad?" Wallcroft asked me.

I nodded and mumbled some sort of response.

The footage was grainy but it was easy to see that he was positioned in a large courtyard, and had a baying audience at his back, waving flags and chanting his name.

"You're going to need to translate, Lo." Price said, his voice as gruff as ever.

I turned to him. "You haven't had it translated yet?"

By the look on his face, I could tell that the video would be pretty self explanatory with, or without, my translation skills.

On the screen, Al-Asad raised his arms and the crowd behind him stilled slightly. He began speaking in Arabic. I went onto autopilot mode, translating aloud for the room who were all watching the screen intently.

"We trusted this man to deliver our great nation into a new era of prosperity. But like our monarchy before the Revolution, he has been colluding with the West with only self-interest at heart. Collusion breeds slavery and we shall not be enslaved."

The crowd behind him roared loudly.

"The time has come to show our true strength. They underestimate our resolve. Let us show that we do not fear them. As one people we shall free our brethren from the yoke of foreign oppression."

"This isn't good." Wallcroft mumbled under his breath.

"Yeah, no shit mate."

"Our armies are strong and our cause is just. As I speak, our armies are nearing their objectives, by which we will restore the independence of a once great nation. Our noble crusade has begun."

As he spoke, the camera zoomed out slightly so that a vertical post was visible on his right hand side. My eyes were drawn to the large patch of red situated towards the top of the piece of wood.

"They're bringing somebody in." Soap was on his feet now, his eyes locked on the screen. He spoke to Price. "Who are they bringing in?"

"Just watch the video, lad."

On the left of the screen, two men were dragging a third along the ground. The figure looked lifeless, his head hanging down, and his arms and wrists limp.

"Is that Al-Fulani?" I looked at Gaz.

He nodded.

"The President of Saudi Arabia?" Soap turned to me.

"The very same." Price said.

"He's not going to kill the President of Saudi Arabia." Wallcroft said. "There'll be riots."

Al-Fulani wasn't a bad guy. He was relatively quiet and seemed keen to improve Saudi Arabia's connections with the UK and the USA and had worked tirelessly to improve trade relations since he'd been voted into power three years ago. I'd seen him once, when I'd been on a detail with Sandman and he had been in the US to visit with the President. He was a tall, proud man and the image of him being dragged along the floor towards his death seemed incorrigible. The two men at his sides picked him up and pushed him up against the post. I winced as his body sagged visibly when Al-Asad spoke again.

I stared at the screen barely able to translate the words spilling from his mouth.

"What's he saying Lo?" Soap looked at me.

I shook my head, my eyes fixated on the President of Saudi Arabia.

"Lo?" Wallcroft nudged me.

"Just as they lay waste to our country, we shall lay waste to theirs." My voice was smaller than I had heard it in a long time and my hands trembled as I watched Al-Asad move away from the screen. He walked to the left, stopping as somebody handed him a gun before walking back to the camera and delivering his final words before walking towards the President and shooting him in the head at point blank range.

My stomach jolted, and I found myself hurtling towards a bin on the floor so that I could be sick.

Al-Asad had been my target.

President Al-Fulani was dead because I hadn't done my job.

The thought made me sick for a second time. I was grateful that none of the lads said anything, but were all watching the end of the video in complete silence. Thank God, the SAS was the kind of place where seeing somebody vomit was a pretty common thing. There was a hand on my back, rubbing circles between my shoulder blades. I knew instinctively that it was Soap, his touch a gentle reminder of his presence.

Finally the video ended and Gaz flipped the light back on.

"Lo, I know that you're not feeling great at the moment but what did he say-"

"-This is how it begins." Price had answered Wallcroft's question for me, his face dark with rage. "He said, 'this is how it begins.'"

"How what begins? Wallcroft asked.

Price walked to the front of the room. "We don't know for certain."

"But it's obviously a threat to the West." Gaz said. "A very serious and credible threat."

"Are we talking World War 3 here?" I looked up at Price.

He shrugged. "It's a possibility."

"So what's our play then?" Soap asked. "We're going after Al-Asad right?"

"The Americans have plans for Al-Asad and it's too late for us to do anything for Al-Fulani." Price said. "We're heading back to Russia. Command wants us to look at a possible link between the Ultra-nationalists and Al-Asad's uprising in the Middle East."

"The two are related?" Soap asked.

Price sighed. "It seems like a bit of a longshot to me but if Command wants us to do it, then who am I to argue?"

"When do we leave?" I asked, pushing myself up off the floor.

"Three hours." Price looked around the room. "Find a few minutes to speak to your families. We don't know how long this is going to play out for and I don't know when you'll get to see or speak to them again." He sighed. "If you've got anything that you want to say to them, this is the time."