The sad, sinking feeling that filled your chest upon awakening was agonizing.

You awoke with all your clothes still on, halfway off the bed, not even under the covers. You sat up straight, seeing the burger sitting on the table and immediately remembering the cold look in Simon's eyes when he'd rejected you the day before.

Tears threatened to build in your eyes once again and you angrily pushed them back. You weren't angry at the Lieutenant for rejecting you. You were angry at yourself for becoming so infatuated with him in the first place. You mentally punched yourself, thinking back on this stupid little crush you'd had for months and months and months. All those nights you'd laid there thinking of him, praying that one day he'd hold you close once again, whispering in your ear and telling you how precious you were to him. It really was just a girlish fantasy after all.

Those fantasies had officially been shot down, burning up into a pile of ashes deep within your heart. Nothing to do but deal with the disappointment, now. You couldn't deny how painful it was, though - almost like a real breakup, having to snap off those feelings at the stem, yanking them up from their roots and tossing it to the side like it meant nothing before.

You'd been through this before. Give it a week or two, you told yourself. You'll feel better eventually.

You hoped.

With a heavy, sad sigh, you pulled yourself out of bed, picking up the burger and tossing it into the trash. You looked into the mirror and your sad, disappointed face looked back at you. You glared at your reflection for a moment before stripping off your clothes and stepping into the shower.

You decided on a burning hot shower that caused goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. You let the water soothe you, allowing yourself a moment to relax before the rest of the day began.

When you finished with your shower and began pulling on your clothes, Ghost's face flashed across your mind's eye. The sight of it caused your stomach to churn, absolutely dreading the possibility of stumbling across him today.

How can I ever face him again?

You pulled on your socks, considering that with a heavy heart. You took a deep breath before deciding to pretend like nothing ever happened. You would talk to him and respond to him as needed in order to avoid causing any discomfort on his end. No more flirtatious advances.

Maybe one day he'll forget about it.

You gritted your teeth, sliding on your shoes and skulking out the door. You didn't turn your head but your eyes did dart about for a moment before deciding that Simon wasn't around, and making a beeline for your destination.

The agreement had been that you would continue doing paperwork until most of your bruises had disappeared, and then you could reenter the field again. Something you had begrudgingly agreed to, but you were happy to have it now. It meant you could easily avoid Simon all day.

You settled into the office area as you thought back to a memory from a few months before. You cringed at yourself once again, remembering that time the Lieutenant had called you out on avoiding him after that one infamous night of pure drunkenness.

I saw you turn and walk the other way as soon as you caught sight of me yesterday.

Your cheeks burned as you pulled out the stack of papers you'd been working on the day before. Made a mental note to be less conspicuous in the days to come.

You diligently began working on the stack of papers, eventually getting lost in your focus on the work in front of you instead of thinking about Simon as much as you had been. You looked over every paper, double-checking that the information all looked correct before initialing and flipping them over to the "done" side. You did this for a while, stopping to check your phone every now and then until the sound of someone else entering the office surprised you.

You turned to see the new recruit enter then, his cold blue eyes appearing surprised to see you as well. It was unusual for anyone to come by while you were working in there.

"Hello there," he commented, looking at your stacks of papers strewn about the table in front of you. "They've got you on desk-duty, huh?"

You looked down at your papers once before returning your eyes to him. "Yeah, they wanted me to take a break until these marks go away. I guess I was freaking everyone out."

He laughed at your joke, walking casually to the center of the room before turning at the table and taking a seat across from you. You didn't say it out loud but you wondered what he was even doing in here.

"I came to check over Maghrebi's file, see if there's any notes I could add. Can you point me to where it is?"

You nodded your head, pointing to a filing cabinet just behind him. "Should be the third drawer."

He turned in his chair, bending over and opening up the cabinet. You saw his fingers trace against the files inside before plucking out Maghrebi's. He turned back to the table, opening the file and beginning to look through its contents. First, a picture of the terrorist himself, his evil gaze catching your eye from the other side of the table. After that there were more images of random locations he'd been known to visit in the past. Then came the pages and pages of handwritten notes of Laswell, Price, and a few from Ghost. You'd read over them many times.

You'd become distracted from your paperwork, silently watching as Sgt. Drake began reading through all of the notes. He made his way through each and every line, his posture slightly hunched over the table with his head bent down as he focused thoroughly on the information before him. You could see his eyes flickering from word to word beneath his long lashes.

You were mildly surprised when he looked up at you, hoping he didn't realize you were absentmindedly staring at him for the last 20 seconds or so. He didn't seem to notice as he looked into your eyes and asked you a question. "Got any sticky notes?"

"Oh, yeah." You pulled a stack of sticky notes and a pen from a nearby drawer, placing them in front of him.

"Thanks," he commented, grabbing the pen and scribbling something on the note before pressing it down onto the paper.

"So you're pretty familiar with Maghrebi's case?" You asked him curiously.

He glanced up at you once again, his eyebrows raising slightly. "I've been communicating with Laswell back and forth for a few weeks," he replied. You picked up on hints of a Southern accent in his voice. "I don't know much more than you already did, but I've managed to help capture some of his associates here and there. Just never managed to get the man himself. So Laswell and Price thought, what the heck, let's get this guy on the team instead of making all these phone calls."

"Makes sense," you commented, watching his veined hand scribble on another sticky note and plastering it down on the paper. "So what's your first name?"

"Colin."

"How long have you been with the Marines?"

"10 years. Joined when I was 18, started working with special forces around 27. That's how I ended up becoming familiar with the members of your team. Had a few drinks with Price and Laswell here and there. I've worked with your Lieutenant once or twice, but never very much." He paused, letting out a quick breath for a laugh. "Don't think he likes me very much."

You stiffened a bit at the mention of Ghost. You bit your lip, searching for what to say. "He doesn't know you well enough."

Drake scoffed. "He wants to intimidate me."

His blue eyes flickered up to yours and you prickled. You didn't like the tone of his voice or the way he was speaking, but you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe with time everyone would grow on each other.

You were aware that Simon's personality type had caused some strife in the past. You also knew that he didn't care, at all. He was confident in who he was and his position on any team. You had never seen him second guess himself. You were, without a doubt, fully loyal to Ghost, and would probably never let go of that. If Drake wanted to mend well with the team, he'd better learn to like L.T.

"I don't think that's how he sees it," you responded quietly, feeling a bit awkward and unsure exactly how Drake had meant that. You wondered how his previous experiences with Ghost had been in order for him to say that.

"Yeah, well," Drake spoke up. "I look forward to showing your team what I'm capable of. Actually, why don't you have a look for yourself?" He turned then, finding a cabinet marked "active members". He didn't have to flip far before coming out with a file and passing it to you.

You took it from him, still feeling slightly awkward and wondering if he was trying to impress you or something. You began flipping through the file, your eyebrows raising as you saw that it was actually impressive. He'd started off early and strong with the Marines, quickly garnering the attention of those above him. Almost every year saw a promotion of sorts, his titles and rankings climbing from page to page. It began as regular combat, stone-stepping all the way up until he reached the position he's in now: terrorism intelligence specialist.

You breathed quietly from your lips in an impressed whistle. "Wow, Drake. Keep on climbing and you'll be in the clouds."

"Hopefully not the clouds just yet. I'm too young for that." He winked at you.

You smirked at him, absentmindedly tapping a pen against the table. Despite his odd comments about Ghost, you began to feel as if he was growing on you just a bit. His file was quite impressive, he seemed charismatic, and he was rather nice to look at. You wondered where the future would take him with 141.

You were both looking at each other for a few moments when you heard the sound of footsteps passing by the little room. Both of you turned your heads to see the dark figure that took up the entirety of the doorway. Your stomach flipped when you saw him.

Your heart sank when you caught wind of the temper seeping off him, the smile falling from your face. "Hi, L.T.," you said as naturally as possible.

He ignored you, his eyes flickering upon you once before moving on to Drake. "What are you doing in here? We've been searching all over for you."

You glanced at Drake who still wore his smile, expression unchanging. "Just having a chat with our lovely Y/N, Lieutenant."

You quickly looked over at Simon to see his response, feeling the tension in the air.

"Get your arse up and come with me. You aren't here to make friends, Sargeant."

"Heard you loud and clear, L.T." Drake caught your eye and gave you a smug wink before standing and walking out the door with Simon. Your eyes followed them both, still appalled at the situation.

When Simon turned to follow Drake out the door, he didn't look at you at all.

Soap sat at a bench in the cafeteria alone. He hadn't made it away from his duties in time to enjoy lunch with the rest of the soldiers, but thankfully the cooks had a little bit of food left for him. He picked up a sad, overcooked corn dog and dipped it generously into a glob of mustard, twirling it around and hoping the sauce would make the morsel a bit more edible. He took a bite, grimacing at the cold food that tasted like it had been sitting out for hours. He didn't want to eat it, but he was famished. He dipped it again, and when he raised it to his mouth, a hefty drop of mustard fell right down the middle of his shirt.

"Fook," he grumbled quietly, quickly wiping it away with a napkin.

As he wiped it away he heard the sound of someone settling down just across from him at the table. He looked up to see the Lieutenant settling down on the other side, who took his seat without even muttering a hello.

Soap thought about offering him one first, but decided to wait and see what he had to say.

The two men sat there in silence for a minute or two. Soap looking at Ghost idly as he chewed through the stale corn dog, and Ghost, staring back at him as if they were capable of speaking telepathically.

After a few more moments of staring, Soap's hand flicked to the side questioningly. "What's up L.T.?"

Ghost's eyes continued regarding him quietly, still not speaking a word.

"What, are you on fuckin' drugs mate? Been out in the back smoking the ole devil's lettuce with some recruits, have ya?"

Finally, Simon scoffed. He shook his head at the absurdity of it. "No."

"You sure? Do me a favor and gaze into my eyes some more." Soap leaned forward. "Feels like you're about to start kissing me with all these looks you're giving."

Ghost scoffed again. "Knock it off, Johnny. I came here to talk to you about something."

Soap's eyebrows raised and he leaned forward, immediately interested. He'd been dying to find out what was going on with L.T. for months now. "I'm all ears."

Instead of making a statement, Ghost asked a question. "What do you think about Drake?"

Soap was slightly disappointed. That's not what he was hoping for. "He's all right. Don't really know him, though."

Simon's gaze didn't break from Soap's as he gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "Right."

"Why do you ask?"

Ghost finally blinked. "I'm not fond of him."

Soap paused a moment before responding. This was typical for L.T.. Soap knew he despised welcoming new members onto the team, but he couldn't help but wonder…

"You sure that's not because you caught him having tea time with Y/N?"

A look passed over Ghost's eyes and Soap high-fived himself internally, hints of a smirk playing on his lips. I knew it.

"That ain't it," the Lieutenant responded. "I've met him a few times before. Rubs me the wrong way."

"And how's that?"

"I don't think he's on our side." He leaned forward. "I think he's got something else up his sleeve."

Soap shook his head, looking down at the crumbs on his tray as he bit off the hard, crunchy end of the corn dog. He set the stick down on the tray and returned his eyes to Ghost. "I don't know about all that, mate. No way Laswell would let some walloper on our team."

Ghost clicked his tongue. "Graves."

"Eh. Got a point there."

Simon breathed again, easing forward and resting his elbows on the table. He brought his voice a bit lower. "I'm asking you to keep an eye on him. Don't let him spend too much time alone with Y/N. If you see him following her around like a lost dog, you tell me."

Soap found himself fighting a smirk once again. "Alright, L.T." He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at Ghost smugly. Like he'd just unlocked the answer to everything. Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Simon." He glanced around to make sure no one heard him say his name. "What the hell is up with you and Y/N."

Ghost prickled. "What the hell, Soap. You're like a teenage girl."

"Oh, come on, L.T. You've been off in your own head since she got here." His eyes broke from Ghost's and followed a cafeteria worker passing by not far behind them. When the worker passed, Soap continued on in an exasperated yell-whisper. "You're acting all protective over her, for Christ's sakes. I know you, L.T., and you aren't getting this one past me."

Simon chewed his lip, staring Soap down with a look that could have cut glass. If it were anyone else, he'd have ended the conversation right then and there. He knew it, and Soap knew it. But he didn't.

Almost as if he wanted to come clean about something.

He spoke up again. "If you'd take the time to consider anything other than drama, you'd see that I have a point."

Soap gestured with his hand. "Go on."

"He sees Y/N as an easy target. Probably thinks he can get on her side and start making moves to fuck with our progress. For what reason, I don't know." He paused. "He's had some hiccups in the past. Things that never made it on paper. He comes from a… an unscrupulous crew."

"Why aren't ya telling her this, then?"

"She'll act different. He'll notice. We need him to think we trust him."

"Mmm," Soap responded, still not convinced. He took a moment to consider, fiddling with the stick before turning his eyes up to look at Simon again. "I'm not saying I believe you, L.T… but I'll go with it."

Ghost gave a quick nod of his head, appreciating Soap's loyalty. He felt confident that Soap was trustworthy on this. He moved like he was going to get up before Soap stopped him.

Ghost settled back down on the bench, leaning forward to listen when Soap began to speak.

"I need to tell you this." Soap brought his voice to a full whisper. "I consider you my closest partner on this unit. You're my boss, but you're also my… friend." He searched Ghost's eyes before he hurried on, afraid he was losing his attention. "What you tell me, stays with me. God's honest truth." He sighed, looking over L.T.'s masked face. "I know you're just a rock with a brain, but... I'm hoping you'll tell me what's bothering you eventually."

Soap stood from the table, leaning down and clapping Ghost hard on the shoulder before picking up his tray and sauntering off, leaving Simon alone with a bewildered expression on his face.