**** I'm so sorry, I have been dragging on this, life has been lifey, but I'm trying to add more to this as I can. No Beta reader on this one, so please forgive any mistakes here****
Sarah closed her hands tightly around the fabric of Simon's shirt, her hands fighting to keep pulling, keep exploring the skin underneath. She slowly opened her hands and let them slide up to his shoulders. Gently, she pulled him against her into an embrace. One hand gripped tightly against his muscular back, the other sliding up to the back of his neck. She held him tightly against her, her nose nestled in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent.
Simon wasn't quite sure what to do, so he wrapped his arms tightly around her and slumped his weight against her. He was tired. He wasn't quite sure how long he had been tired, but probably the better part of 30 years.
They stayed there, wrapped around each other for what seemed like an eternity, before Simon reached a hand up behind her back and pulled the skull-painted mask down over the rest of his chin. He stood despite the protesting of her arms, and as her hands slid back down his shoulders and to his chest, he looked impossibly deeply into her eyes.
"I... I'm sorry if I..." She trailed off.
"Hush." He said, smiling knowingly underneath the mask.
"I didn't mean for this to happen. I think it was just... You know... Adrenaline. Stress. Lunacy." She rolled her eyes and smiled as she turned her head away from him. Something about his gaze made a heat roll up and down her spine, and she needed to break it before she burned up.
"You didn't do anything wrong. Neither of us did, really. I... Things are complicated. In my life. You've already been through enough for one evening." Simon stood straighter and her hands slid from his chest and into her lap. She looked down at them. "I want... I wanted to." He said quietly. In his mind, a voice screamed exactly what he wanted to do, but he quieted it before reaching under her chin and pulling her face up to meet his gaze again.
Sarah looked into his eyes that seemed to mirror hers and felt as though she might cry. They stayed there locked in each other's gaze for what seemed like too long and not long enough. In her mind, a voice screamed exactly what she wanted him to do, but she knew there was no good in it. Simon pulled his hand away, and the absence of his skin against hers felt like a wound. He reached down and grabbed his jacket and sweater from the floor, the wetness of the fabric not phasing him.
"Will I see you again? Ever?" she bit her lip hard knowing the answer before she asked.
"Love, you weren't supposed to see me in the first place." He avoided her gaze.
She chuckled. "I don't believe in ghosts."
Simon closed his eyes tight and smirked beneath his mask. "Exactly." his voice was quiet and husky. He turned, leaving her sitting on the counter, and walked to the other side of the buffet counter. He watched her back as she heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her long brown hair, sliding his sweater on and then his jacket, slightly wincing at the logistics of the wetness now pressed against his skin, and bent down to grab his pack. He slung it over his shoulder as he walked towards the door.
He stopped, his hand resting on the handle, knowing that he could take it all back now. That he could pick her up, and carry her to her bed, and relieve them both of any thought or tension or worry that could possibly plague them, if only for a small time. Knew that he could wrap himself around her like his hand around the door knob making the difference between their bodies practically indistinguishable in a flash of heat and sweat and breath. Instead, he turned back towards her to look at her one last time in the small window of the buffet that looked into the kitchen.
"Sarah." He said quietly, and her head jerked toward him. "I hope you have a really nice life." his eyes stung, and his heart thumped painfully hard in his chest.
She bit her lip and smiled back at him. "You too Simon. I hope you have a really nice life." she nodded a punctuation and tucked her hair behind her ears.
With that he opened the door and left, taking the warmth and comfort of the room with him.
Sarah sat on her counter and looked at the remaining tea on the floor. She looked at the refrigerator. She looked at the flickering fluorescent light above her, and then she closed her eyes. She brought her hands to her sides stretching the tendons as far as she could and then closed her fists tightly. She punched the countertop and immediately regretted it, hopping quickly off the counter and cradling her hand against her chest.
"Jesus fucking Christ." She moaned as she wrapped her other hand around her now pulsating fist.
Sarah woke with the sun as its rays glimmered through her curtains, and warmed her face.
Another day in what felt like the longest master's course in existence. Turns out, maybe her father was right, and there was no reason she should be getting a master's degree in Russian Linguistics. She loved it though. There was something about the way the language danced and how the words tasted rolling off her tongue.
She stretched her arms above her head and then let them flop down hard against her puffy down comforter. The sting on her face pulled her back to the events of the last evening and she grimaced and then sighed, and then bit her lip. If the sticky adhesive of the bandages wasn't pulling slightly against the tender skin of her face, she might have forgotten the whole affair.
And then there was him. Tall, muscular, dark, quiet Simon. Strong, protective, hot-blooded Ghost. She closed her eyes and ran her hands slowly down her stomach and to the insides of her thighs, grasping firmly against her skin, thinking of the fire that he had stirred there last night. She shook her head hard.
"Trauma bonding. Reptile brain. That's all. I'm smarter than that. I just need to get laid." She threw off the covers and rolled to the edge of the bed, hesitating there for a moment surveying the room. It felt different now. Or maybe the world felt different. The big, antique, almost floor-to-ceiling windows allowed the sun to dance through the tulle drapes hanging to the ground. She slid her feet back and forth against the Persian rug that protected her hardwood floors, before standing and heading to the bathroom.
She looked into the mirror to survey the damage, the first time she had seen herself since yesterday morning. "Ack." she said back to herself. She prepped her toothbrush and sat on the edge of the claw foot tub as she scrubbed aggressively, trying to wash away the taste of the previous evening.
Spit, water, gargle, spit.
She ran her hands through her long straight brown hair, looking defeated in the mirror. There was not much that could be done about her overall appearance, and she couldn't tell whether or not she cared. So she wrapped her hair into a tight bun and walked to her closet.
She pulled on leggings and jeans over top knowing that it would be another cold one, and grabbed a shirt, then a cable knit sweater. Boots on, lipstick to keep her from looking dead. Done.
"This is as good as it's gonna get." She whispered to herself as she turned around and surveyed herself in the floor mirror next to her bed, her appearance resembling a toasted marshmallow.
She pulled on her jacket, and her scarf, grabbed her briefcase and backpack, and bravely exited her apartment and journeyed into the cold.
The world outside was crisp, and even with the sun shining, the sky was that gray fall/winter cast, making it feel even colder. She heaved her pack over her shoulder and started her journey to the Line 15 bus station that would bring her to the college.
She pulled out her phone and queued up a playlist to help finish waking her up. "I'll get a coffee from the cafe once I get to the school." she thought to herself. She was going to need it. Usually, work days were rough the next morning, if it wasn't just the late nights it was staying and drinking with Reggie as they were closing up, and this morning was particularly abysmal.
The bus was busy, and the buzzing of early morning commuters in the same state as her made her grin to herself. The day was bright and she gazed out of the window as the bus approached Jackson Park. She shuffled in her seat and prepared to buzz for her stop.
The bus dinged as she pulled the cord in front of the 59th Street stop, and she pulled her scarf tighter, thanked the driver, and exited the bus. Wet cold clung to the air as she continued her journey on foot. "I miss my fucking car." she thought to herself as her shivers quickened her pace. It was a quick walk to Foster Hall and her professor. She was lucky enough that she was able to study with Professor Anika Yakovich directly while completing an admin program as part of her Master's.
Today would be a normal day. Grab a cheddar bagel and caramel latte from the cafe, check the bulletin board on the way to the office, and make her way to the language lab. She was tired and dragged her feet even though the warmth of the coffee was helping to finally wake her up. When she entered the lab it was empty, and she set her things down and fired up her computer as she awaited the professor.
She dropped to the floor, under the desk, eyes wide. Shaking her head she looked at the ground and tried her best to disappear into thin air. This was not happening. No fucking way. Not in a million years.
"Sarah? Are you... Okay?" The professor's light Eastern European accent called out to her, and she realized that there was only a thin support bar protecting the back of the desk and she was clearly visible to not only the professor but the group of people that accompanied her as they entered the lab.
"Uhhhh, yeah I just uh... I dropped something." She crawled back from under the desk and stood up.
"My, my. What happened to your face?" The professor asked, but it took several minutes to reach Sarah's ears because they were hot and ringing as her gaze met the golden eyes
of the man who had placed the bandages the professor was commenting on.
He stared back at her and his eyes widened slightly as he realized what was going on. Laswell and Price exchanged a glance that looked partly like concern and partly like annoyance.
"I uh... I fell." Sarah replied.
"When did you become so clumsy my dear? Moving on anyway, this is my administrative student Sarah Petrovic. She's incredibly talented and working for me as part of her Master's program. She will be assisting with some of the translation and working with me on this project. Her experience and ability will be invaluable to us." The professor waved her hand at Sarah as she pinned on her accolades.
Sarah blushed deeply and smiled tightly, uncomfortably. She shook her head quickly trying to snap herself out of a daze and stepped around her desk to offer her hand to the group.
"Captain John Price... Officially." The Captain's shake was firm and yet friendly.
"Kate Laswell." Laswell shook her head and smirked slightly as she shook Sarah's hand as if she had a hunch there might be trouble ahead.
"Soap, lass." Soap punctuated his handshake with a wink that made Sarah want to roll her eyes.
"Kyle, but you can call me Gaz." Gaz shook her hand excitedly, and the fact that he was this chipper this early in the morning made her uncomfortable.
She shook each of their hands accentuating each shake with a tightening of her lips until it felt like they were hardly there anymore.
And then there was him, black balaclava hiding his face once again. Her breath caught in her throat and her face looked pained as she struggled to keep smiling. She held out her hand, and he took it gently and gave it one shake. He used his index finger to lightly scratch the inside of her hand. "You're alright, Ducky." he said quietly enough that only she could hear, and she blushed harder.
"Now then. Let's get to work." The professor gestured for the group to follow her to her desk.
The rest of the group departed but he just stood there staring at her.
"So I guess that means you're haunting me now, huh?" She tried to joke.
"I don't... I'm... enthusiastic to be working with you. If you're half as good as the professor says you are then you'll be a useful asset." He said, his voice almost flat and robotic. She didn't like the way it felt, but as she took a deep breath she realized it was probably for the best. He looked at her with a pained expression as he watched her sigh. "Shall we?" he gestured towards the desk where the professor had multiple printouts lined out in front of the crew.
The group hovered around the desk as the professor pointed out images and started to list possible related text based on the cryptic messages the squad was able to extract.
"I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer." Sarah whispered quietly as they examined the picture of one Vladimir Makarov.
The group turned to look at her.
"Uh... Sorry... some of these passages seem to mention the "First Horseman". Could be a reference to the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse depicted in the book of Revelations in the Bible. Some references name the First Horseman as pestilence. Possibility for a bio-weapon of some kind?"
Price stood straight and leaned back slightly. "You weren't joking." he said gazing at the professor and then at Sarah, smirking slightly.
"Good. We can look more closely at any documents that may mention Horsemen, Apocalypse, White Horse, and Pestilence. We can have these uploaded and we should be able to search them using our AI systems." The professor said turning to Price and Laswell.
"Perhaps... due to security concerns, we would be better suited looking for these keywords by hand." Laswell suggested. "We are not sure exactly where the enemy hides, and we know that Makarov is coming for 141 specifically. We're not safe anywhere right now."
"Very well. Sarah, if you can provide examples for these keywords, and we can search the texts by hand."
"Uh... On it Prof!" Sarah exclaimed, punctuating herself with a lazy salute and then regretting it. She gulped and her eyes widened slightly as she looked at the faces of the group, finally settling on Ghost's. He nodded his head slightly at her in encouragement. "I'm gonna need more coffee for this." She whispered to herself.
After demonstrating several variations of the translations for the words they were looking for the group sat at the desks of the language lab parsing through each of the messages they had been able to intercept.
As time and task dragged on Sarah stood from her desk and stretched. She grabbed her wallet from her pack and decided it was time for a refuel. Ghost watched as she exited the lab and decided to follow.
She turned to look behind her as she heard his heavy, combat boot-laden steps approaching. She turned her focus back forward and sighed letting her eyes glance towards the tiles of the ceiling. "I just wanted a normal day." she thought to herself. Perhaps it would have been easier if he had just disappeared like a true apparition. Maybe if she could pretend the only thing he haunted was her mind this would have been easier. She cursed herself for inviting him into her home.
"Sarah." His husky voice seemed to boom in the acoustics of the stark white hallway. "Sarah wait."
When he finally caught up to her, he turned her gently towards him by her shoulder. It looked as if she might cry. "I had no idea. How could I have known?" he said, blaming himself for her state.
"It's... There's nothing that you could have done. Somehow, karmically, I deserve this." She sniffled and smiled up at him. "I have a sinking suspicion that nothing is going to be normal now." she chuckled as they resumed their walk towards the cafe.
"So, not really here as a tourist then, huh?" She asked as they walked next to each other.
"Erm... No..." He replied looking towards the floor.
"Look... I know neither one of us expected this, but... Oh my god, I feel like an insane person." She shook her hands as if trying to expel some nervous energy. She stopped walking and looked up at him. "What if... What if I want to get to know you? Am I allowed to do that?"
"I... Well, I suppose we'd better. I don't know how long we'll be working together, but we're gonna be in close quarters, I suppose we should at least find out if we like each other." He chuckled slightly.
"Deal." She said slowly with a smirk that quickly turned to a smile.