The room you were in, warm and humid, erupted with booms of laughter and squeals of drunken excitement. The stress of Task Force 141 had come to a sudden halt after a cheerful end to an arduous mission, and it was time to celebrate.
You and your fellow soldiers huddled around a table, dimly lit by an overhead lamp, discussing how relieved you all felt to finally have some time to relax. Soap, your closest friend in the unit so far, sat to your right, nudging you as you stared down into your glass.
"Why aren't ya celebratin', soldier?" He asked you quietly.
You looked up from your frothy beer, your response somewhat delayed as your head began to succumb to the effects of the many drinks you'd already had. "I am celebrating," you responded when the thoughts finally came to mind. "Just got a lot on my mind, that's all." You gazed down into your beer once again, taking a long sip and enjoying the coolness of the liquid flowing down your throat. When you set the glass back down, your eyes wandered to the other side of the table, where you were surprised to see the Lieutenant gazing at you idly. Your eyes met for just a moment before you looked quickly back down at the beer, hoping he hadn't noticed your timidity.
"I can tell when something's wrong with you," Soap nudged you again, and you felt a slight twinge of annoyance, worried that Ghost might still be looking.
"Yeah, well," you snapped lightly, "I can't really talk about it right now, Soap."
He shrugged, tousling your hair and asking you to cheer up.
A few hours had passed, and your sleepiness was immeasurable. You glanced around at your coworkers, seeing that everyone else was still up and at 'em, having a good time. You wanted to go home and crawl into bed.
Your chair slid behind you ungracefully as you stood from the table, lurching slightly this way and that. Maybe I had one too many, you thought to yourself as you fumbled with the back of the chair, attempting unsuccessfully to push it back in. Quickly you gave up and your eyes scanned the smoky room for Soap. You saw him across the way at the pool tables, giving someone a run for their money as he prepared to strike a ball with a cue.
You quietly slid up to him, tugging at his arm to get his attention. He turned to look down at you, gazing up at him with sleepy, drunken eyes. "I'm going home," you sloshed tiredly.
He turned to face you fully, giving you a quick glance-over in his own drunken state. "Who's taking you?"
"Ugh Soap, what are you, my mom?" You responded irritably. "I'm getting an Uber! See you tomorrow." Without waiting to hear his response, you turned and quickly walked away, slightly stumbling out the door.
The cool night air greeted you, immediately providing relief from the stuffiness of the bar. You breathed it in deeply before pulling your phone from your pocket to get yourself a ride.
You'd forgotten how difficult it was to order an Uber in such a drunken state. It felt as if the alcohol was coming on even stronger now and you realized you'd drank more quickly than you originally thought. The chilliness of the air didn't help either, causing your fingers to tremble every time you tried to click something. As you focused on your phone you swayed slightly back and forth, nearly toppling over until your back collided against a hard wall.
Or, well, you thought it was a wall. When your hands fell backwards in an attempt to catch yourself, you found your hands gripping at fabric. Surprised, you turned around to see the Lieutenant gazing down at you. Before you could fall again you felt his large hand come down on your shoulder to hold you steady.
Your heart flipped, the way his darkened eyes gazed down at you so coolly. Even in your drunken state, he still intimidated you with that low-lid gaze. "Oh, hey L.T.," you stammered out, hoping you could pass it off as an accident instead of pure inebriation.
"Where are you going?" he demanded, his gruff voice coming from deep within his chest.
Trying not to stutter, you held his gaze. "I'm going home, I'm tired."
Although difficult to see behind the mask, you noticed his expression change slightly. "You aren't supposed to go alone. We have a buddy system. You know that."
You rolled your eyes, attempting to be your normal self while struggling to hold yourself up straight in front of your boss. "Come on sir, it will be fine. I just don't want to cut anyone's night short."
He paused for a moment, eyeing you quietly. What the hell is going through his head right
now? You couldn't tell. Until finally, he spoke again. "I'll take you back. I can't let you go by yourself." He reached into one of his deep pockets, pulling out the keys to one of the civilian cars the team had rented for their time in the area.
"You can't drive," you blabbed without even thinking about it. A blush flushed your cheeks, wishing you hadn't just blurted that out.
"I've only had two drinks tonight. Now come on, before I change my mind." Without waiting for you he turned on his heel, mashing the unlock button for the car that chirped optimistically in response.
You stumbled blearily after him, trying your damndest not to fall and bust your ass in front of the Lieutenant. When you started to regain your balance, your eyes traveled up to Ghost's broad shoulders as he walked to the car. Your nerves spiked up once again, gazing into his back as you hurried after his long-legged gait. The way he took his steps, so confidently, and so masculinely was enough to make you melt inside every time. You loved that about him, his aura - so collected, controlled, mysterious, and purely dominant. You quickly averted your gaze when he turned to open the door of the vehicle and slid in, your heart beating faster as the realization set in that you were about to be in a car ride with Ghost, completely alone, for the first time ever. You quietly slid into the seat, silently begging yourself to relax instead of holding yourself so tightly. The nerves had subconsciously overtaken your muscles, causing you to squeeze yourself together. You hoped he didn't notice.
He didn't appear to, as he only turned on the car and casually pulled away from the bar. The silence overtook you and you began to feel awkward, staring out the window as you passed by businesses left and right, until finally you were on the long desolate road back to camp.
About twenty minutes later a word had still not been spoken, and your mind was filled with fluttery, drunken thoughts about the Lieutenant, full of all those fantasies you'd indulged yourself in for the past few months or so. Thoughts of you and Simon hanging out on civilian time. Laughing, smiling, joking. Finding some stupid reason to do things together that weren't work related. Even embellished fantasies of yourself impressing him, saving the lives of the whole team somehow, ending with him admiring your bravery. Then, for a brief, fleeting moment, you felt embarrassment at the thought that he somehow had telepathy and could hear those girlish thoughts echoing in his mind. You knew it likely wasn't true, but you blushed anyway. You had to turn towards the window to keep him from seeing your embarrassed smile. A thought crossed your mind - what would Simon even think if he heard those crazy thoughts? Would he laugh, chuckling with a smile hidden under that mask? Or would he be silently disgusted, cringing at your frivolous thoughts? Oh, you could only wonder.
Finally the two of you pulled up to the small, temporary compound that greeted you with a somewhat drab and dusty appearance nestled at the end of the long dirt road. You gathered your bag, glancing over at Ghost and getting ready to say goodbye. "Thanks for driving me, L.T.," you said as your hands dug around in your pockets. "Hang on, sorry… I'm looking for my keys."
He stayed silent as you rifled through them with increasing haste, when a memory finally dawned on you.
You and Soap in the parking lot, getting ready to head inside the bar. You telling him about how many times you have lost your keys in bars, and since you had tiny girl-pockets, you'd like for him to hold them. To which he did.
Your keys. All the way back in Soap's pocket at the bar thirty minutes away.
Your hand flew up to cover your eyes when it dawned on you, embarrassment flooding in as you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting them in his pocket. "Oh my God, Ghost, this is awful. I left my keys in Soap's pocket." Your head stayed in your hands for just a moment, afraid to look up at him after your mindless blunder. But you finally did, and your heart flipped when you saw he was just looking at you. No discernible expression.
He didn't speak at first, but finally looked away from you and took the car out of park. "Well, you can't freeze your arse off out here all night." He put his foot on the gas and you continued down the path to the other side of the compound. You sat there silently, tensing up once again as you felt so intrusive and dumb for this. It was impossible to tell if he was annoyed by you or not.
When he parked the car and got out without a word, you hurriedly grabbed your things and followed after him, not wanting to be any more of a burden. You stood behind him, dwarfed by his massive frame as he unlocked the door to his room, flicking on a switch and stepping in.
You hated that he was so quiet and short with words. No way to tell what he was really thinking. You stumbled into the room, still struggling to hold your balance but doing your best. When you finally caught yourself you took in the room around you, trying to distract yourself from the seclusion that was unusual for you to have with Ghost. Usually when you were alone together, it was for a mission. This felt more personal, and although you had become closer with Ghost over the last six months, you had never spent time like this alone together. It made you feel a bit awkward.
The room was exactly what you'd expected it to be. Clean, tidy, although with some trademarks that proved a person does actually live there. Black eye paint tossed on a small table in the middle of the room, an ashtray with a few stubbed out cigarettes in it, a bottle of whiskey halfway gone.
He took his jacket off, slinging it over the back of a chair before settling himself down in it, filling a small glass with a few shots worth of whiskey. So casually, as if nothing was off here, and it helped you to relax just a little bit. "Ghost, I'm really sorry you're having to babysit me like this," your words came out quiet and nervous, and he could tell you really felt like a burden at that time.
"Don't mention it," he commented coolly, his deep voice completely neutral. "We'll chalk it up to the alcohol."
You looked over at his well-made bed, it being the only other place to take a seat. You settled there, nerves still shot and your knees clenching together in a subconscious attempt to take up less space in his private quarters. You hoped he hadn't noticed too much of your nervousness, but Simon was a very observant person. He noticed.
"You can lay back," his gruff voice broke the silence and you looked at him like a deer in the headlights. You thought about declining, but the thought of having the chance to hide under the blankets and soothe your woozy head was an offer you didn't want to pass up. Drunkenness threw your thoughts of whether or not this was appropriate out the window and you stood, peeled back his covers, and crawled under them.
"I didn't mean you could unmake my bed."
"Oh, I'm sor-"
"I'm joking. Calm down. I don't bite." You glanced to his face, giddiness traveling inside you when your eyes met his. His gaze was so calm and unwavering. It was almost unnerving.
Almost.
And so you relaxed a little, the blankets serving as a comfort barrier and allowing you to let your guard down a bit. You pulled the covers up above your chest and when you did, your heart warmed as you caught a whiff of his masculine scent.
"Ew, now I'm going to smell like you." Your eyes flickered to him, wrinkling your nose.
"You're going to end up out there in the cold." He set his glass down, leaning back in the chair and interlacing his fingers behind his head. God, he's so… big. He takes up so much space. You bit back a grin as your thoughts tore once again down the road to fantasyland, imagining sharing this small bed with him - you would have to lay on him in order to fit.
Noticing his relaxed state, you felt comfortable teasing him some more. You grabbed at his pillow, flipping over on your side under his blanket. You began smooshing your face all over it, snuffling around in the fabric and audibly breathing it in. "I'm gonna drool aaaallll over this pillow!"
He watched you silently, eyes unmoving beneath that balaclava.
When he didn't respond, you looked at him with one eye, the other still buried in the pillow. "And I'm going to wipe my nose on it." You sniffled for added effect.
Still no response. Just gazing at you with those sleepy brown eyes. Then finally, he spoke. "Go to sleep."
The alcohol was causing you to act out. "No," you stated matter-of-factly. "I was planning to bother you some more."
He looked at you for a moment before his head cocked to the side and you heard him click his tongue decidedly. You watched him with a mischievous gleam in your eye as he slowly stood from his chair, his posture saying "I didn't want to have to do this". He never took his eyes off you, and you fearfully gripped the covers up above your chin with only your wide, playful eyes visible. "Eeeek!" You squealed quietly when he stepped over and deftly ripped the pillow from beneath your head.
"I said go to sleep, silly girl." The pillow came down on your face hard and you squealed even louder when he used both of his hands to wrap it around your face in feigned strangulation. You couldn't stop laughing from beneath the pillow, the force of his hands bouncing you up and down. You reached up, finding his forearms and trying to push them away unsuccessfully, until finally he stopped.
You were still giggling beneath the pillow when you heard him settle back down in the chair again.
"I'm telling Price!" You yelled at him with mock anger as you quickly snuck the pillow back beneath your head.
"Price won't save you," he said, lifting his leg and resting his ankle on his knee. There he goes, comfortably taking up so much space yet again. You tugged your eyes away from him once more in an attempt to hide the growing fondness you'd developed for the man. This had been the reason for your sadness earlier in the night… While everyone around you partied and celebrated, the only thing on your mind had been your last six months as the newest member of the Task 141 unit. Obviously, it was mostly just a job, but you'd grown fond of the entire team. You felt comfortable with everyone, unlike how you'd felt during the time you spent with your last unit. The others were judgmental and uncaring, giving you no one to seek advice from. After many missions with that previous unit, you had laid in your cot until the early hours of the morning stressing about your performance, because nothing you ever did was good enough. Now, you had a few people you could turn to in times of need without feeling like a burden or a dumbass. You'd found yourself confiding in both Soap and Captain Price here and there, allowing that vulnerability to show every now and then as you developed a sense of family within the group.
But it was Ghost, that ever-quiet and serious man, that got to you the most. As much as you wanted to become closer with him, he didn't seem to just open up the way Soap could. He wasn't really friendly. Every time you attempted a personal conversation with questions that you didn't think were too intrusive for him, he was never very keen on answering. He typically only spoke with you about the job at hand. At first you weren't really sure how to take this and asked Johnny to clue you in on whether or not the man just didn't like you. But, Soap had thankfully reassured you that Ghost was that way with anyone, and it takes a long time for him to open up. "That's just how he is," your friend had commented, giving you a sideways glance that made you hope he wasn't picking up on your secret crush. You felt as if he'd be one to tell it.
You laid there in silence, your eyes growing sleepy as you began trying to pinpoint exactly when and where your crush on the man had really started. Of course, you had found him attractive the first time you met him, but it wasn't enough to make you fully interested. No, the process of the masked Lieutenant silently winning over your heart had taken much longer than that. At first you had seen him as an imposing figure, unsure if you could live up to his high standards. And you knew that to others, he was that way. But as you'd come to know him more over time, you found that his way of correcting your mistakes didn't cause you to feel looked down on. It was as if he saw some actual potential in you, skills that could be refined into something truly impressive. When you realized he wasn't scrutinizing your every move as you'd been used to with the unit before, you began to trust him. Little by little you became more comfortable with your position inside Task Force 141, allowing your true colors to shine as you no longer had nerves holding you back.
Your heart warmed once again at the thought, your eyes finally fluttering closed as you couldn't hold them open anymore. Your thoughts danced back to a time on your most recent mission that you'd held onto fondly. There was one time that the Lieutenant's hardened shell had cracked a tiny bit, opening up to you…. Somewhat.
The two of you had been forced to split up with the team for the sake of not having your cover blown. You had shirked quietly along in the darkness behind L.T., following him to an abandoned building that had been chosen as a potential rendezvous. He had given the go-ahead that the coast was clear and it was safe to relax for a few minutes. As you sat together awaiting the arrival of the rest of your team, you expected nothing but the usual silence with him that you had grown comfortable in. You'd filled up your lungs and taken a deep breath, relaxing, when suddenly he whispered something to you under his breath that caused your stomach to flip.
"You're pretty good at what you do. I like havin' you on the team."
In that moment your skin had prickled, not only at the sound of his husky, hushed voice but at the reality of what he'd just said. He had never complimented you before. You hadn't realized you'd been craving it.
He'd seen your eyes pick up in the darkness and gleam under the moonlight, surprised at his sudden comment. "Thanks, Ghost," you'd whispered back, unsure what to say next.
All he'd offered after that was a quiet, "Hmm-mm," in acknowledgement, and readjusted his gaze to wait idly for the team.
You rode on that high for days. Weeks, even. Hell, here you were now, dreaming about it still, forgetting this wasn't your bed, snuggling into Simon's blankets and drifting off to sleep.