You were getting sick and tired of the cold.

The excitement of visiting Russia for the first time had officially drizzled away as you sat with your group huddled around a fire in the cold, harsh Russian wilderness. You'd packed all of your warmest materials, wrapped yourself up tight in your coat and an extra blanket, and sat as close to the fire as you could without burning yourself. Yet still your teeth insisted on chattering.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered to Soap who sat to your left, also facing the fire.

"Not too excited to be here anymore, are ya?" He responded. You could tell by the strain in his voice that he was freezing too, just not enough to tremble.

You glared at him from the edge of your eye, envious of his good spirits despite the atrocious weather.

He caught you giving him the evil eye and leaned in to you. "I'll snuggle with you, if you want." He winked.

"Oh, shut up Soap," you shot back at him, your evil eye worsening as you clenched the blanket tightly around your shoulders. You rolled your eyes so hard that they fell on Price and Ghost, whose conversation had seemingly ended. They were both looking at you and Johnny. Your cheeks burned and you made a mental note to admonish him for that later.

"You look like an ice pop," Price commented, puffs of vapor emanating from his mouth as he spoke.

"I'm on my way to becoming one soon," you chirped, lips obscured by the blanket.

You glanced over at Ghost in time to see him directing a look towards Soap. From the corner of your eye you saw Soap give a shrug, as if to say what?

You brushed it off, scooting even closer to the fire. "How am I going to shoot people when my hands are trembling like this?"

"We're hoping to not do much shooting," Price answered. "We want Maghrebi alive. Sounds like he's temporarily holed up with Vladislav's family or friends until he can figure out where to go next. Probably knows we raided his base a while back." He took a moment to breathe warm air onto his hands. "Hopefully we just flash our guns and scare the poor bastards into giving him up."

"Pah," Soap scoffed, gesturing over to Ghost. "With a face like that, I think we could scare just about anyone."

You giggled quietly into the blanket, glancing over at him once again. Somehow, the skull-faced mask didn't bother you at all. You still thought he looked cute most of the time, except when he was angry, or when he wore that air of "don't fuck with me right now" when he was focused on something.

He caught you watching him idly, making eye contact with you for an instant before looking into the fire. You resettled your eyes there with him, suddenly conscious of the fact that you were on his mind. You weren't sure how you knew that, but you could feel it in that look. You wondered absentmindedly what he was thinking about. The fire burned into your eyes as you gazed off into it, getting completely lost in thought. You shivered lightly in the blanket, remembering the last time you'd been alone with Ghost. You wished you could crawl into his lap right now, ask him to wrap his arms around you and keep you safe from the cold once again. Imagining that scenario had your heart thumping fast, considering where a situation like that could possibly lead off to. Your thoughts swam about, fantasizing about what would happen. You would crawl into his lap, give him your best doe eyes and ask him sweetly to wrap you up in another bear hug. You imagined yourself snuggling up into his chest, listening to it vibrate as he spoke to Soap and Price. Maybe at some point you'd look up at him and ask him for a kiss… then he would tug up the bottom of his mask, lean down, and gently place his lips on yours.

And suddenly, you snapped back to reality. You couldn't dare let him realize that you just spent the last 10 minutes or so daydreaming about him. Still, you couldn't help but wonder. What would his response be if you did ask him for a kiss…?

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a heavy hand clapped onto your shoulder from behind. You gasped, straightening up and turning around to see Soap looking down at you. "What, asleep already or something? We're packing up and getting ready for bed."

You looked around behind him and saw that somehow they had managed to put up an entire tent without you noticing. "Oh, whoops," you said back to him, standing up from your chair and turning to the tent. It was decently sized, but you were still surprised to see that the four of you would be sharing it for the night. You crawled inside after Price and Soap, using the pale moonlight that crept in to see.

"I have a feeling Price snores," you commented, settling in next to Soap.

"Like a freight train," Price said back to you.

"Oh, good Lord." You crawled into your sleeping bag, wondering momentarily where Ghost was. You realized that when he entered, being the last one in, he would have no choice but to settle in on the other side of you, leaving you snugly in place between him and Soap. You had to catch yourself for a moment at the realization that you'd actually be sleeping right next to the Lieutenant. It would be the first time, and you hoped it wouldn't be the last. You had truly meant it that night after at the bar, when you drunkenly blurted a request for him to sleep in bed with you. It had you wishing you could all just sleep under one big blanket instead of being confined to a sleeping sack.

Your thoughts were torn away when you heard him crunching up to the entrance of the tent. He bent down and crawled inside, reeking of cigarette smell.

"L.T.'s just turned this into a fuckin' gas chamber," Soap groaned.

Simon didn't respond, only unzipped his sleeping bag before laying it on the ground next to you and crawling on into it. You began to wonder if there was something wrong with him. The air about him seemed a bit off, like he was either perturbed by something, or merely distracted. You couldn't tell which.

You settled down deeper into your sleeping sack, pulling it tightly around your shoulders in an attempt to keep all the warm air inside. It was so uncomfortable with the cold seeping around you, making it impossible not to shiver. You thought everyone's body heat would be enough to warm up the inside of the tent, but it was barely doing anything for you. You trembled again, your teeth chattering quietly into the freezing night.

You heard the rustling of a sleeping sack as Price spoke up in the darkness. "No one's going to be able to sleep like that," he said, unamused and ready for bed.

"Sorry sir," you responded, rubbing your hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm up some more.

"What'dya want me to do, Cap? Stuff her in my sleeping bag?" Soap joked at him.

Price paused for a moment, considering the options. "Make a sandwich," came the drowsy reply.

A sandwich…? You thought to yourself. Before you understood what he meant, you could feel Soap start scooching over. He shuffled his bag closer and closer until his shoulder and one of his legs were pressed up to yours. Your face burned. Soap laughed. He knew this would embarrass you.

"Scoot in, L.T.," he said into the night. "Y/N sandwich. You too Price, come on over here."

"I'm not cuddling you, son."

You laughed at Price's comment when you heard Simon quietly sigh, his sleeping bag shuffling over until he was pressed against you as well. Both of them squeezed you in tightly.

"Oh God, that's enough," you groaned involuntarily as you were squished between them. But within a few moments, you found yourself warming up enough to stop your chattering teeth. It wasn't a perfect amount of warmth, but it definitely helped. Although somewhat embarrassing, it was a nice feeling, being sandwiched between the warm bodies of your closest friends. Deep down you wished you could ask L.T. to let you crawl inside his bag instead.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed that you could see light puffs of his breath coming through the mask. You wondered if his eyes were open as well.

"Sorry again," you spoke quietly.

"It's fine," Simon grumbled next to you.

"Been a while since ole Ghost has had a good cuddle, eh?" Soap chirped up once again. "Come on, Captain. I wanted you to hold me."

"I already said no, boy. Stop flirting with us and go to bed."

It was hard to fall asleep for Simon.

Not just because of the cold. It had been that way for many nights, and had been for many years.

Something about laying down in the darkness with nothing to do but think was enough to almost drive him mad. All the times he laid there, wishing to find an on/off switch for his brain, he never could find it. It seemed like this was going to be one of those nights. He assumed it had been at least an hour or so since everyone else's breaths had begun to come out in heavy, sleepy puffs. He was slightly envious.

He thought for a moment that he should have another cigarette, but then remembered the "sandwich" he was supposed to be the top layer of. He shifted his head to glance down at her, seeing her unconscious face tilted slightly to the left, light puffs of vapor emanating from her resting lips. Truly though, his left side did feel a bit warmer than the right.

Shooing those thoughts away quickly, he sat up and skulked from the sleeping bag as quietly as he could. He saw Price rouse slightly on the far side of the tent, lifting his head and laying it back down when he saw it was only Ghost leaving.

He walked silently the short distance away to the campfire they had all been gathered around not too long ago. The coals burned low. His skin prickled harshly against the coldest hour of the Russian night. All around him was snow, reflecting beams of moonlight against the sharp, leafless branches of the surrounding trees.

He lifted his mask, turning his back away from the light wind. He raised a cigarette to his lips and lit it with his other hand cupped around it. Then he breathed in the harsh smoke that burned his throat and soothed his mind.

What in the hell do you have to be worried about anyway? He asked himself, absentmindedly glancing up at the moon. It was unnerving, the way his moods had been in the last few weeks. He'd come to realize that he'd begun to feel incredibly distracted. Something else tugging at the seams of his mind. He'd struggled to come to terms with it when Soap had made the comment recently.

"What the hell's up with you, L.T.?" He'd questioned, his eyes showing genuine concern as he gazed into Simon's.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ghost had asked back, immediately a bit defensive.

Then Johnny mentioned that he'd been trying to catch his attention for well over 20 or 30 seconds. Yes, that unnerved Simon. Made him question whether or not his focus was waning from work. If that persisted, it could cause major problems.

And so as the time went on, he'd found himself trying to get to the bottom of what was annoying him. Taken a longer time smoldering in scalding hot showers. Searched for the answers in a bottle of whiskey. Had a few extra cigarettes dedicated to his thoughts. Even though somewhere deep down, he already knew. Just hadn't accepted it yet.

He took another deep drag off the cigarette, rolling his eyes at himself as he exhaled it heavily. He criticized himself internally taking on any kind of feeling toward a situation involving coworkers - something unacceptable when working such a high-risk job. There were times it was becoming harder to separate his work thoughts from his personal thoughts. He wasn't sure exactly why he'd been annoyed with Soap's flirtatiousness towards the girl earlier. Was it because that's just what comes with the territory of having competitive males working around one of the opposite sex? He couldn't tell if he felt protective over her for that same reason. He didn't want to think of her as small or fragile, because she certainly wasn't - well, maybe a bit small, compared to him - but he'd seen enough of her in combat to know she was not fragile. Despite this, he'd found himself wanting her to stick more with him than the others just in case something were to go horribly wrong. As much as he trusted the members of the team, he felt more inclined to trust himself with her instead. It bothered him that he found himself dreading the day she got sent off on a mission without him - or worse - sent off completely alone.

The thought just shouldn't matter to him. Never mattered before. Why should it matter now?

He shuffled his thoughts away once again, still unsolved, taking the last puff off his cigarette. He made his way back to the tent, quietly unzipping it and finding his way to his sleeping bag by the dim light of the moon. As he settled down and shuffled into it his eyes brushed over his mates, each seemingly undisturbed by him this time. He saw that Price had left a good sized gap between himself and Soap, while Y/N still laid pressed lightly into Soap's side. Some feeling roused from somewhere within his stomach. He immediately pushed it back down and settled in next to her.

As he shuffled back into place, the rustling of his sleeping bag caused her to stir. His breath caught in his throat when he heard her make a small noise, shifting slightly to her side, her head falling right up against his bicep. His heart stuttered when she nuzzled into him before returning to calm, heavy, sleepful breaths.

Then the mental anguish returned, and he could only lie there to battle his thoughts in silence.

You awoke slowly. You heard your own sleepy breaths huffing in and out quietly, placidly. You subconsciously became aware that it was light outside, lighter than when you went to bed. You willed yourself to go back to sleep, but you knew your body wouldn't let you. It was too damn cold.

Rousing slowly from your slumber, you shivered slightly. You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes still closed, and curled into the warmth that was nearby you. Goosebumps prickled your body as you squeezed it between your arms, feeling that heavenly warmth you craved so much. You nuzzled your face into it, a quiet and involuntary groan escaping your throat.

You heard the sound of fabrics rustling and silently begged them to stop, to allow you more time to snuggle into this comfortable warmth and rest for a little while longer. The thing you squeezed in your arms moved slightly. You groaned again, squeezing it tighter. Let me sleep, you begged silently.

"Y/N."

"Mmmph."

"Y/N." A little bit louder.

"Mmmmmph!" Becoming annoyed.

Your body jostled when the thing you clasped onto wiggled lightly. "Wake up."

"Hmmm?!" Your eyes fluttered open, finally beginning to re-enter reality.

"You're squeezing my arm."

It took you a second. That voice. Deep. Gruff.

British.

Your head lifted up with a gasp. Your eyes flew open, your startled, bleary-eyed gaze meeting with Ghost's tired, low-lidded one. He regarded you silently, looking at you with no expression, taking in your surprised face.

Then you realized he was right. You were holding his arm. Tightly. Both your arms were wrapped around his left one, squeezing it against your chest. It appeared that at some point you had flipped over towards him, pressed your face snugly into his bicep, and wrapped your arms around his. You were curled into his side, pressed up against him. You realized with horror that even your foot hung loosely across one of his shins from inside your sleeping bag, spilling over onto his.

You were cuddling the fucking Lieutenant in your sleep.

"Oh, shit," you gasped a second time, quickly unraveling your arms and pushing yourself up to a seated position. Your hair fell down around your face that burned from embarrassment. "Sorry, L.T.," your hands rose to rub your eyes. "I did not realize I was doing that."

You were too afraid to look at him again. Soap stirred to your left. Price snored quietly. To your right, Simon removed himself from his sleeping bag, unzipping the tent and going outside without a word. When the door zipped back up again, your head fell into your hands.

That is so fucking embarrassing.

You bit your lips in exasperation, desperately analyzing the way he got up and left the tent without saying anything. Was he mad at you? Did you make him feel uncomfortable? You pondered anxiously for a few moments before brushing your fingers through your hair, putting on your heavy coat, and making your way outside. Simon stood in front of the fire pit with his back facing you. You saw puffs of cigarette smoke wafting quietly away from him in the cold wind. Your nerves begged you not to approach him, but you knew it had to be done. The day was starting.

You approached tentatively, afraid of how he could be feeling towards you at that moment. If you had never creeped him out before, you had definitely done it now. Your boots crunched softly in the snow until you found yourself staring down into the fire pit with Ghost. You could see that his mask was pulled up from his mouth but you willed yourself not to look. You finally worked up the courage to say something. "When will we be heading out?"

"Soon as our sleeping beauties wake up."

As if right on cue, you heard the sound of someone crunching up behind you. It was Soap. He came to stand with you and Ghost at the fire. "Sleeping Beauty, eh? I knew you thought I was pretty." You looked at him and he wore a playful smirk, giving you a wink.

Price came out then too, and the mood thankfully returned to business as usual. You all took the time to pack up the tent and the rest of your belongings before setting off into the bitter wilderness. The hike to the little village wouldn't be too long, and you felt grateful that it was a tad bit warmer due to the sun. You were also grateful this didn't have to be a stealth mission - as Price had said, you all didn't expect much out of the residents of the village. From what you all knew, it had been a quick and desperate attempt for Maghrebi to flee before he managed to find himself a new hideout. You all hoped to catch him by surprise - if everything went to plan, a couple of threats and you all would have yourselves a terrorist. Hopefully it would be that easy.

The morning sun rose high up in the sky, beaming down and blinding your eyes as it reflected off the snow. Each of you pulled down a pair of sunglasses in order to see better. You found yourself lost in thought once again as you crunched along in the snow, thinking to yourself about the way Simon's muscular arm had felt gripped in your hands when you woke up this morning. You glanced up at him, walking slightly ahead of everyone. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach when you realized something was definitely bothering him.

You could only pray that he didn't see you as a creep now. A silly, lonely, hopeless romantic creep of a girl who didn't know how to separate work from her personal life.

"I'm gettin' tired of asking you guys this," Soap whispered to you at your side, pulling you from your thoughts. "I need to know what's got you acting so weird." He gave you a long, measuring sideways glance. You became nervous as you realized he was about to ask a real question. He leaned down closer to your ear. "Did you have sex with the Lieutenant, Y/N? You can tell me. I won't get you fired."

Your eyes fell wide open. "Soap, no. I did not." You felt annoyed that he would even assume that. Your eyes flickered ahead once again, hoping they didn't hear.

He seemed annoyed with you as well. "Something's got him all ruffled up."

"Yeah, I know. I really don't know what it is, Johnny. I don't." You kept walking with a slight shake of your head before you continued in a harsh whisper. "I was hoping you could tell me."

His eyes flickered away one last time. You could tell he didn't believe you.

You took a few more steps, mind completely unfocused now. It bothered you that Soap had confirmed your assumptions about Ghost. He did have a different aura about him. You hoped it had nothing to do with you.

You skulked forward, mind clouded as your feet slid along in the snow. You weren't paying much attention when suddenly something caught around your ankle and you flew forward, nearly crashing to the ground before Soap caught you by your arm. You saw Ghost and Price turn to see what happened.

All hell broke loose.

A loud bang! echoed through the icy air. You heard the sound of a bullet fly by your head.

Instantly the four of you scrambled to take cover behind the trees. You pressed your back hard up against a thick tree trunk, gasps of exhilaration escaping your lungs as you realized how close you'd just come to being shot in the head. You heard Price call into his intercom to Laswell. "We're getting ambushed!"

You pulled out your weapon hurriedly, your hands shaking with adrenaline and fear. You peeked around the trunk of the tree and saw them: a group of men wearing snow-white gear, brandishing assault rifles.

You took aim and fired. One fell to the ground, and then another as your mates began shooting as well. You realized you were heavily outnumbered when you saw a few more heads poke up from the snowy floor. You continued aiming down the sights, some of your shots missing their targets as your hands shook from surprise and cold. This is not how this mission was supposed to begin.

Your finger pulled the trigger one last time, landing a headshot and spattering stark whites with scarlet red when you were suddenly yanked violently backwards by the hood of your coat. A gloved hand wrapped itself around your mouth as you tried to call out for help. You thrashed about, being strangled by the collar of your jacket, choking and thrashing as you were dragged backward. You watched your friends get farther and farther away, a sense of dread forming deep in your stomach. In a last-ditch effort to save yourself your hands flew to the zipper of your coat, desperately yanking it downward and releasing yourself from it. From the corner of your eye you saw Soap and Ghosts's heads turn towards you. Your heart fluttered with relief. You began to scramble to your feet. Then an intense pain exploded in the side of your head, sending you face-first down into the snow.