#beretta's reporterverse

[loadedberetta]

warzone reporter Reader going with 141 conducting interviews and reporting on the situation to the paper; Ghost asks her to leave her recorder with him since he's not big on trusting people with handling his recorded voice so she has to come see him to work.

and now she can't press rewind to listen to his small chuckles, the turns of his accent, or the little short breaths he draws sometimes since he is sitting right. there. watching her squirm in her seat on the opposite end of the desk.

because he sees. he sees everything.

(Gaz is next in the reporterverse)

[loadedberetta]

Gaz pampers PRESS!Reader. he just does. he is eager to give her interviews, he fills her in on stuff she doesn't know (off-the-record of course).

gets her accommodated when she first arrives, and establishes trust with her. watches over her at first, and luck has it that a low-risk op goes wrong, he grabs her to himself and escorts her to safety.

he doesn't know why this is happening. first it was a power thing, which morphed into a debilitating crush over one night they had to spend out on watch.

but Kyle is confident about that. he's not blunt, neither creepy, but still forthcoming, and she's aware. they get along; it's not soppy, neither is it a quick romance. both of them can feel this could lead to something.

she slips him a card on the last day about her press agency. he could find her anyways, would he want to. and he does.

he lends her his shemagh, and forgets to ask for it back "on accident" when the mission is over.

(Soap is next in the reporterverse, it'll be a longer thing maybe not tomorrow, but it's coming soon)

[loadedberetta]

I am in complete adoration of Press!Reader and the web you're weaving with it! I love how you get two sides of the story - what *actually* happened and what they report on!

I'm excited to see the rest of it because it's just stuck in my head now!

hi babe don't mind me I sobbed for about a day before I could comprehend that I got an ask

thank you for reading my stuff it brings me immense joy that other people have interest in stuff I do - anyways here's what I have to say about this

(oh and, I hope you're ready to say hello to Camilla)

"Gaz and press lady are still missin'." Soap rubbed the bridge of his nose, and rounded the table in Price's office.

"Her name's Daugherty." Ghost rumbled from the chair by the wall. He arrived back at base but an hour before, at the cusp of dawn.

"Yes, her. Daugherty." Soap gestured towards Ghost while he settled behind the Captain, leaning against his chair. He'd had her file in his hand all but once; only her first name stuck.

Price was trying to locate Kyle. One hand on a radio, another on a transmitter, he was sweeping through signatures across the area they lost contact with Gaz on radio. Ghost knew there was no way to help Price, but Soap couldn't restrain himself.

The deft hands of the Captain hadn't found anything in the past hour and a half, since they'd had access to the transmitter.

"Where are you, boy…" He muttered under his breath and tried ignoring Soap breathing down his neck as he scanned the available channels again, hands working in tandem.

"Soap…" He suddenly barked before he could register him still standing over him.

"'m here. I see it." Soap pointed at the screen, a familiar string of signals staring back at him. "That's him."

"Damn right, it is. Better answer, Kyle…" Price muttered as he zeroed in on the signal.

Ghost stood up, the hulking frame of him appearing behind the computer screen. He was ready to go hell and back for his teammate, his quiet determination let on.

Soap remained behind Price, fingers grabbing the back of the chair 'till they ran white.

"2-6, do you copy? " Price's voice was firm, as he pressed the syllables between his tight lips. "Kyle?" He repeated after a moment of silence.

-

Dust lingered in the dry, hot basement.

"Kyle?"

His grip on the radio hardened. The line was shaky.

"Sir. I'm here. I… Copy." His voice shook just a little.

"Location? Status? Give me a sitrep." Price's voice was still firm, it reminded Kyle of his dad calling him once when he forgot to report in after a night out with friends.

"We're in a basement, both in one piece. Reception's shite, sir."

"So you have Camilla?" Soap interjected, Kyle wished he could see his teammate's face just then, judging by the hurried tone he didn't often see Soap resort to.

"Yes." Gaz answered, and looked up to the woman sitting with her back to the nearby wall, her eyes fixed on him.

-

"Camilla…" Soap ripped the door of the SUV open as Ghost parked it by the entrance of the main building.

A wave of unfamiliar jealousy rippled through him as Kyle stared back at him from the backseat, Camilla sitting on the other side of the vehicle. She looked exhausted. Not broken, but surely exhausted.

Kyle brushed past him in understanding, fighting the urge to claim his position by helping her out of the car, but the look he exchanged with Soap was universal and well-known between the two of them.

He gave the other man a pat on the shoulder and walked by him to join Price standing in the doorway. Soap heard them talk in the back of his head, but his focus was on the frame of the woman scooting closer to her in the car seat.

Soap extended a hand towards the inside of the car, and she took it. Her hands were covered in a thin layer of sand and grit, and they were warm, almost hot. He chuckled as she climbed out of the car, her expression tired, but alert.

"I'm alright…" Camilla dropped her hand from Soap's.

"I--" His lower lip quivered as she broke the contact, making him freeze in place, only able to watch her walk hurriedly toward the main doors.

She disappeared inside the building. Soap wanted to rush after her, but Gaz's hand on his chest stopped him as he tried to squeeze past him in the doorway.

"She's lost her camera in the ambush. Memory and all…" He muttered to Soap, their faces parallel, only a few inches away.

Soap sucked in a breath and pushed against Kyle's palm in defeat.

Price stood back and crossed his arms over his chest. Ghost came to stand beside him, and clicked his tongue, flicking the mask over his mouth and lighting a cigarette a moment later.

a/n:(I can't say we're getting anywhere yet, but it's going to be a wild ride for sure)

[loadedberetta]

throw me to the dogs but I'm way too excited about reporterverse now fuck.

all I can think about now is how I'll space the article, it's really growing on me.

(Price is next in the reporterverse, and don't think for a second I'm done with Soap yet)