So let's see what I need to mention before you read this chapter... hmm...

Well, first off, thanks to everyone who said my M chapters were good. I agree with all of you when you said that a really graphic M chapter in this sort of story would've been bad. And hey, I didn't want to WRITE one super graphic, either. So it's a win-win situation!

Second, I've noticed that a ton of you have deviantart accounts and are really amazing illustrators! Since I can't draw worth crap, if you guys wanted to draw something from this story, I'd be really happy! I don't even care if it's stick-figures or not. XD

Question of the Chapter: From what I've hinted to some of you and mentioned in chapters, what do YOU think will happen when I get to Loose Ends? Give me your totally honest opinions. And keep in mind that I am GOING to try my hardest to get at least a single tear from each of you...

And heads up to all the Ghost fangirls: I have a feeling this might become one of your favorite chapters... eh... it's possible. I mean, Ghost's ONLY taking a shower... ^_^

Read, Enjoy and Review!

ecto1B

Chapter 24:

"Water"

Day 6 – 2:15:22

Lt. Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Task Force 141

Encounter Base, Russia

Rolling onto his back, Ghost stared blankly up at the tent ceiling, his mind hazy and exhausted. He took a few deep breaths to rejuvenate his highly depraved bloodstream and instantly realized his skin was burning up. Ghost sat up and peeled off the long-sleeved turtleneck from his body, depositing it on the floor beside the cot. Then he laid himself back down and kicked the itchy covers away from his legs.

Why the hell am I still so sweaty? he wondered furiously.

Fed up with the fact that his body wasn't cooling down in the slightest, Ghost groaned and got out of bed. His skull balaclava sat on the foldable table nearby, but he paid no attention to it. Instead, he shuffled across the tent to snatch a towel, then made his way outside and over to the bathhouse for a nice cold shower. Ghost slung the towel around his neck and savored the nippy winter air as it hammered on his bare skin.

If this is the only way my bloody body will fix itself, so be it.

Taking a whiff of air through his nostrils, Ghost noticed a strange aroma wafting from his skin. Instantly, he realized that the smell was perfume. Queen. A smile grew on his face. He still carried her delectable scent. A ripe feeling washed over him, causing his legs to wobble slightly in the snow under his feet. For a moment, Ghost hoped that Queen—who was sound asleep in her tent nearby (he'd brought her there after they'd finished in the laundromat)—smelled heavily of him. Chills accompanied that intoxicating thought of his. Last night had by far exceeded his expectations, and just thinking about it made him weak in the knees. Going back to his months under Roba's supervision, with those sultry prostitutes waiting around every corner… Ghost felt a shudder trickle down his spine. He'd much rather have a single hour with Queen than weeks with one of those repulsive women. Roba had treated the women like prizes, like incentives for showing loyalty to him. They'd caressed him in all the wrong places, making an effort to seduce him. But Ghost had been strong, fighting their nauseating touch and remaining resistant to Roba's additional torture. Still, he wondered why he'd been so inept to fighting his desire for Queen if he'd easily fended off the other women and their allure. She seemed to have a power over him that was incredibly irresistible. Ghost's face contracted into a musing frown. Hadn't he sworn to himself not to ever put faith in anyone ever again? Why was he so easy with Queen? Was he supposed to trust her? He'd trusted Sparks and Washington with his life… until they'd gunned down his family by orders from Roba. Could Queen be like them? Ghost shook his head vigorously to remove that awful thought from his mind. No… she couldn't keep lies from him. She'd tell him if she was here by orders of Roba…

You're insane he scolded himself. Queen's not working for Roba. No bloody way. You two just made love! There's no way she'd do that just—

Sparks and Washington were your best mates his other half argued. They were there with you during the six months with Roba. They were brainwashed by him—unlike you. They killed your family! Your mother, your brother, his wife, even five year-old Joseph. And didn't Sparks seem normal at first when you two went to that bar to chat? Then he started talking about Roba being right—

"She's not working for Roba!" Ghost shouted, slamming his fists on the side of the bathhouse. The noise echoed throughout the entire base. Ghost became aware that it was a little after two in the morning, and that he shouldn't be yelling. He took a deep breath to calm himself and unhinged his clenched hands. He didn't understand. Why did half of him trust Queen, and the other half didn't? Which side should he believe? Was she working for Roba?

Ghost gnashed his teeth and pushed open the door to the T-shaped bathhouse, deciding to deliberate the subject at a later time. He glanced about the familiar setting. On his right side, a long counter area stretched the length of the wall, complete with sinks, bars of soap and paper towel dispensers. On the left there were seven wooden shower stalls with ugly blue curtains to give users a bit of privacy. Inside each stall, the custodians had provided the men with small bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash. At the back, along the horizontal section of the building, were the bathroom stalls. Again, each stall was made of oak wood, but instead of curtains, they had doors. At the moment, Ghost could hear no sounds from anywhere inside the bathhouse, so he was quick to assume he was alone. No water was running, no toilets flushing, and there was no one standing at the sinks. He could bathe in peace.

He entered a shower stall—sliding the curtain closed after him—and promptly stripped off the rest of his clothes. Ghost hung them and his towel over the door so they wouldn't get too wet, and then glanced down to examine his overly-damp body. A sigh—overcome with shame—escaped from between his teeth.

When Queen had seen his body, he'd been glad the light had been so bad inside the laundromat so she couldn't really see the details. Either that, or she just hadn't said anything, for multiple scars crusted his pale skin from his days in the SAS. From the area around his neck, to all the way down to his legs, blemishes, marks and thick red lines scattered over each piece of skin. Battle scars… reminders of the persecution he'd dealt with in the past. They were everywhere on his body, and standing naked in the shower stall, he had no way to hide them. Vulnerable. Exposed. The scars were irremovable.

Before he turned the water on, Ghost took the chance to take one last whiff of Queen's perfume. The smell reminded him so much of how she'd felt in his arms. The warmth of her body, her heartbeat inches from his, her lips brushing his skin… everything he'd experienced last night had been beyond perfect. Ghost ran his tongue over his top row of teeth, thinking. Was it possible, in the slightest, that she worked for Roba? Here to seduce him, just to betray him again? His heart ached. No. Not possible. Queen loved him—she'd said so in-between kisses. He had to stop doubting that.

Ghost reached to the wall and turned the shower knob on. A thin spray of icy-cold water cascaded from the nozzle, drenching his body. Droplets of the frosty liquid slithered across every curve and into every indentation, slowly bringing his body temperature back to normal. He squirted a nickel-sized amount of shampoo onto his palm and then ran it through his dusty blonde hair with his fingers. Once the foamy substance had been washed away—dribbling down the length of his neck and resting on his shoulder blades—Ghost uncapped the body wash and poured a glob of it into his other hand. As gently as possible, Ghost massaged the soap throughout his body. All of the dirt, sweat and grime slipped off him and into the shower drain on the ground. He disregarded the conditioner—was it a manly instinct? He didn't know. Honestly, he'd never used the stuff before in his life.

Finally, all the bubbles from the soap vanished down the drain. Ghost stuck his face into the spray of the nozzle and shut his eyes one last time, basking in the chilly water's placidness.

He smiled. Peace. Tranquility. At last.

Dunn: Heh, this ending doesn't deserve a suspenseful music part...

ecto1B: Or does it?

Dunn: Shit.

DUNN DUNN DUNN

Review nicely for poor Dunn, who I constantly overwork for your enjoyment!