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nervouslaughter05 · 2 years

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Of Monsters and Men Chapter 2: Welcome to Scotland

A/N: Here's chapter 2! I've had so much fun writing this so far and I'm really excited to see where it's gonna go!

C/W: mild cursing, some mentions of discrimination based on country of birth

Without further ado, lets dive in

Masterlist

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Scotland.”

“Finally,” Soap groans from the seat in front of her, unclipping his seatbelt and rising to his feet. “Thought A was gonna lose feelin’ in my legs.”

Ghost huffs from his spot in the seat beside her. “Quit your bitchin’, Johnny.”

She nods in agreement, waiting for the lieutenant to rise from his spot in the aisle seat before following suit. Standing after having to sit in a cramped space for so long is a welcome relief. She wished they were able to wear civvies for the flight though. As comfortable as these cargos she was wearing were normally–they were her favorites for that reason–they didn’t compare to the thermal leggings she had been wanting to wear. At least she could wear a beanie her dad had gifted her for Christmas the year prior.

“Language, Simon.”

Grizzly chuckles at the way Price was tiredly speaking to the taller man, and she’s reminded faintly of how her father would speak to her and the rest of her siblings when they’d get themselves in trouble.

They exit the plane, each of them carrying a bag with things to amuse them during their flight and also items which they didn’t want to have with their luggage. Their actual luggage was all checked–due to the size and weight of their duffles none of them wanted to go through the trouble of dragging it on the plane with them–and needed to be retrieved. Soap leads the way, steering them through the airport with ease stemming from landing at this airport so many times.

They were actually going to be conducting business near his residence, so they in essence had their own personal guide to keep them from getting lost.

The airport is bustling with activity, people hurrying across the white floors to catch their flights. Their group gains a few stares–probably from the cargos and the military issue boots they all wore-but Grizzly pointedly ignores them. She elects to focus on Soap and how out of place the three Brits and herself were going to sound wandering around the hills of Scotland. It inspires a fight within herself to keep a smile from breaking out, only imagining the expressions they’ll be wearing once they realize the way Soap talks when he’s all fired up is how everyone here speaks all the time.

Before she knows it, they’ve made their way to the luggage drop off. The conveyor belts remain motionless as the group strides over, not yet moving any luggage around to be grabbed. Soap huffs at the sight, leaning back against a pillar set up just a couple feet from the belt. They all stick relatively close to one another, waiting in the midst of the quickly growing crowd for their bags to be brought down.

“What do you wanna bet that Soap is gonna try to drag us to all the places he went to growing up while we’re here, eh?” she asks Ghost, looking up at him.

He makes this sound halfway between a scoff and a huff, something she has come to associate with his version of laughter. “Don’ need to bet on tha’. He’s gonna do’t whether the lot o’ us like it or not.”

Grizzly chuckles, about to make a further comment when the belt starts moving. A chorus of mumbles goes up, people waiting a little more anxiously for their luggage. The first suitcases come down, all bearing tags and markers to differentiate them and even one belonging to a child that looked like Lightning McQueen. A woman shoves past her with a little boy, the cartoon suitcase and a deep blue one being snatched up. The woman didn’t even bat an eye at how Grizzly was knocked aside, stumbling against Ghost with a soft curse.

“Ya a’right?” her lieutenant asks, steading her with his hands grasping her forearms.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He simply nods as she regains her balance and steps back to her previous spot, taking a minute to calm herself down before searching the conveyor belt for her duffel. She sees it coming down the metal ramp, sliding onto the belt with a thump. Glad she’d decided to bring her poetry books with her instead of packing them in her bag like she normally did because of the rough way her bag was handled, Grizzly gently nudges past a few people and lifts up her duffel. Soap and Gaz’s, each marked with tags bearing their initials, slide down next, separated by a few suitcases from her duffel.

She returns to her spot by Ghost’s side, setting the duffel on the ground and settling her crossbody bag more comfortably on her back. They don’t have to wait much longer for Price and Ghost’s duffels to slide down. Once all of them have the duffels and have double checked that they in fact do have all their belongings (“Lads I’ve lost ‘nough things while traveling in the service to be cautious,” Price had told them as he looked through the neatly packed items in his bag), they exit the airport.

The crisp March air brushes against her cheeks, instantly sending a wave of goosebumps rising over the skin of her arms. It’s welcome, reminding her of the winters in Alaska growing up. Gaz curses, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the thick coat he wore and tucking his head down into the tall collar in an attempt to cover his ears. Price has a similar response, tugging his beanie more firmly over his ears. Ghost doesn’t have a reaction, but that comes as no surprise.

“Where the bloody hell is our ride?” Price questions, one arm around a shivering Gaz as his hand rubs over the younger man’s arm to try to warm him up with his other hand stuffed into his pocket.

“Oh come on Captain it’s not that cold out is it?” she teases, comfortable in her outfit. “It’s not that cold right, Soap?”

The Scot shakes his head, looking the happiest and calmest she’d seen him be for a while. “Nah. I cannae hardly feel ‘t.”

The two of them share a laugh, much to the displeasure of Price and Gaz.

“Well I’m sure Ghost is cold too,” Gaz retorts, sending a look their lieutenant’s way. “Right?”

Ghost shrugs, arms crossed over his broad chest. “M fine actually.”

Gaz grumbles under his breath about how the three of them were insane, Price agreeing with him as they wait for a van to pick them up. To the grateful mumbling of the captain and sergeant, a van pulls up to the curb and a man steps out, greeting them all with a salute and then ushering them inside while loading their bags into the back. Price slips into a row with Gaz while she, Ghost, and Soap all pile into the rear one. It’s a tight fit trying to squeeze back there, especially with the way all three of their shoulders brush together. However, Grizzly doesn’t mind since this has more legroom than the plane and that’s a major thing to be grateful for.

The driver, a British corporal based off of his introduction, slips back into his seat and pulls back into the flow of traffic, driving them to their destination. Price strikes up a conversation with him, and under normal circumstances she’d be paying attention, but right now all she’s focused on is the scenery of Scotland they’re passing by. With each pub and small store or bakery they pass by she’s reminded of the times she came to the country with her father growing up. Distantly she wonders if there will be a chance for her to visit any of them.

“What about ya, Staff Sergeant?”

She is snapped from her thoughts by the voice of the young corporal. “I’m sorry, can you repeat what you said?” Grizzly asks, this time actually paying attention.

“I was jus’ askin’ if any o’ the team ‘ad been t’ Scotland b’fore, Staff Sergeant.”

“Yes actually. Several times,” she replies, a smile coming onto her face. “My dad was born in a town not too far from Edinburg. Him and I come with my siblings to visit the family still here for holidays when we can.”

“Reckon they’d accept a surprise visit?” Price inquiries, turning to look back at her.

She rolls her eyes. “And risk losing a free babysitter by not? They’d welcome me with open arms.”

Soap chuckles, and she remembers he came from a big family like she did. He probably got treated in a similar fashion whenever he got time on leave and decided to come home. Thinking of her family lights up a small pang in her chest, wanting badly to see them. Maybe if they got some free time after this assignment before heading back to England she could drive to visit her grandparents, uncle, and cousins.

A gate looms ahead, blocking off the military base from the outside world. Ghost shifts next to her, slipping his phone into one of the various pockets on his cargos after pausing his music. Soap is downright squirming, eager to get out of his seat and move around.

The mental image of smacking him on the back of the head to make him stop moving in the cramped space of the backseat pops into her brain.

Before Grizzly has the chance to act on it, the van comes to a stop inside the gate in front of a building she assumes is offices. The driver turns off the ignition, allowing for the team to offload onto the asphalt. Gaz and Price hurry out of the single side door, already working on getting their things from the back of the van. Since she was in the middle seat, she slips out before the men on either side of her, laughing as Soap tries in vain to scramble out before Ghost. The lieutenant just shoves him back with one big gloved hand on his chest and squeezes through the gap between the two seats Gaz and Price had been in.

“A wan a bile yer heid,” Soap grumbles, finally allowed to exit the van once Ghost is out.

“Oh poor delicate flower,” she coos, hefting up her duffel onto one shoulder after stuffing her crossbody she’d brought on the plane inside. “Do you need a kiss to make it better?”

The Scot grins at that, leaning into her space. “A’d take any excuse to git a kiss from a bonnie lass like yerself.”

“Knock ‘t off,” Ghost orders, grabbing Soap by the back of his collar and pulling him away from her. “We ‘ave an audience.”

“Ya know I dinnae mind tha-OW LT!”

00000

“Your objective is to prevent the deal from goin’ through. If it does, then cut off its head as quickly as possible.”

Grizzly looks over the projected image on the white wall in front of her, taking in the details of the drone shot they’d gotten of a warehouse nestled within Dunfermline. It was about two hours from where they were in Stirling and less than forty minutes from Glasgow, meaning they needed to keep that in mind when searching for their targets. According to the intel they’d been given, an American mafia affiliated group who called themselves the “Eagles” had taken up business inside. Under normal circumstances, this would be left to the authorities in the area.

However, this wasn’t normal circumstances.

Based on what had been presented to them, the 141 was going to be facing a bust for a massive deal. They were talking drugs, weapons, blacklists, and more. It was gonna require one hell of a cleanup job.

She knew the paperwork they’d all have to fill out after this mission would be a bitch and half.

“I trust your team can handle this, Captain Price?”

The statement is worded like a question, giving off the illusion none of them buy that they were actually allowed to say no to this.

Price doesn’t take the bait, meeting the eyes of the man conducting their mission briefing. “Yes sir.”

“Good,” the man says with a nod, turning off the projector and flicking the lights back on. “Your team heads out at 2300.”

With that, they’re all dismissed. As she passes the man who’d conducted the briefing, he sniffs with an air of disdain around him, and Grizzly suspects it is due to her being an American. Not letting it phase her, she continues out the door after Soap. She encountered this plenty while on bases not her own housing primarily individuals from the various parts of the UK. This was actually the reason why she preferred being on bases holding other American units on an assignment.

With Price at the head, the team heads down the hallways of the base, navigating towards the barracks. There are several soldiers inside, all conversing noisily in their Scottish tongue. Soap hightails it for a few of them playing cards, instantly being roped in once they heard his natural accent. About a quarter of the total number of soldiers in the room were British, their accents a harsh contrast to that of the natives of this country. She notes dryly there aren’t any Americans in this barrack, but that wasn’t exactly unusual given the base they were on was really for the British Army.

“Johnny’s in his natural element,” Ghost comments, leaning back against the wall.

“He’s surrounded by his own species,” she affirms, chuckling at the sight of their sergeant arguing animatedly with another soldier, accent molding his words so thickly even she was having trouble deciphering it. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to drag him back once this mission is done.”

Her lieutenant makes that scoffing huff noise, likely thinking the same thing.

Grizzly sits on her bunk–the bottom one since the only open top bunks were on the other side of the room away from her team–and looks up at him. “What are your plans for until we head out? We have at least ten hours to go.”

“Make sure Johnny doesn’t get into trouble,” the man replies and she laughs.

“You don’t wanna interact with your species?” she teases, watching as he leans against the frame of a bunk bed behind him.

Ghost shrugs, voice passive as he speaks. “Already know what they’ll wanna talk ‘bout. Not tha’ interestin’.”

“Aw, so you prefer my company over theirs?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

She chuckles, attention being drawn away by Price who had come to stand by her bunk.

“Never seen Soap fit in with a group so quickly,” he comments, echoing the same stream of thought she and Ghost were coasting over earlier. “Good for ‘im.”

“It sounds like you’re talkin’ about exposure therapy for a dog,” Grizzly laughs, watching as the Scotsman stands with the soldiers he had been playing cards with.

After exchanging several fist bumps and shoulder taps, Soap strides back to them with a pep in his step.

She chuckles. “Someone’s happy.”

“Ah shove off,” he replies, no actual venom in his tone. “If there was a buncha Americans ‘ere you’d be doin’ the same thing, lass.”

She shrugs, and Price seems to find the interaction amusing, almost like a dad watching his young kids play fight would. Gaz wanders over from where he had been conversing with some British soldiers, standing by their Captain. He seems to be glad to have rejoined them, and she recalls the man’s tendency to stick around them since trying to be around new people just didn’t appeal to him the same as the team he’d been with for years.

“Any ideas for how to pass the time?” he asks, stance relaxed beside Price.

“Just trying to figure that out,” Grizzly replies, scooting over on the bed and offering the spot to him.

Soap tries to swoop in, and she wrestles with him so Gaz could take the spot. Gaz laughs, pulling her further back onto the bed to slip in front of her in a move of pretending to defend her from the Scot. Soap huffs from his spot on the ground where she’d shoved him, trying again to climb onto the bed. This time he succeeds, taking Grizzly’s spot and leaving her sitting pressed against the wall the bunk was against.

“You little shit,” she laughs, climbing from behind the two of them.

They take it as their cue to scoot back, now resting comfortably on her cot. Grizzly grips the metal of the frame for the top bunk, one knee on the mattress. She grins, slowly moving back onto the mattress.

“What’re ya doin’, Griz?” Soap questions as she starts to move.

“I,” she replies, making a quick move and laying over both of their laps with her head propped up on her pillow. “Am laying on my bed. What’s it look like?”

Soap, who was holding her upper half on his lap, flicks her forehead and she smacks him in the stomach in retaliation. She hears the scoffing huff faintly, and it sends a little thrill through her. Price barks at them to knock it off, but if he really meant it his voice would have been much more stern.

00000

The med pack rests heavily between her feet. She’d placed it there for the bumpy ride to make sure it didn’t get jostled around too badly, but considering how badly they were all experiencing just that, it wouldn’t be a surprise if some of it was moved. Ghost is on her left inside of the vehicle with Gaz and Soap opposite them and Price at the wheel. They were almost to the safehouse where they’d be keeping stock of what was going on at the warehouse and also be far enough away that their activity wouldn’t be an issue. It was around forty minutes from the actual warehouse they were going after, meaning if something went wrong they’d be on their own for a while before any form of exfil or help would arrive.

To say that the stakes were high was an understatement.

“How’s everyone doin’?” Price asks, eyes never leaving the road in front of him where another vehicle was driving ahead of them.

“Gettin’ tired of sittin’ down, Captain,” Gaz replies, speaking for all of them.

“Almost there lads. Just a few more minutes.”

“Think my legs are gonna go numb if I sit for any longer,” she grumbles, trying to avoid slamming into the metal wall on her right on a particularly rough patch of road.

The minutes pass agonizingly slow, until even she is fighting the urge to squirm in her seat.

Normally, long drives didn’t bother her. Growing up in Alaska, having to drive long distances wasn’t unusual. During missions, there would sometimes be occurrences where they were on the road for several hours before they reached their destination. It could even be brought up the long flight they’d had to endure coming from their last base to Scotland.

She can still remember Las Almas, squeezed between the seats Soap and Ghost were residing in when the latter had hijacked a truck to get them away from Graves. That drive had been a good couple hours, though she supposed being so hyped up on adrenaline lessened the effects of wanting to get out of the vehicle.

They finally come to a rocky stop, Soap and Gaz exiting first while she follows and Ghost goes behind her. The ground feels firm beneath her and being able to stretch her legs after so long was a welcome relief. They wait for Price, trailing behind him into the safehouse. Grizzly, out of habit, finds herself slipping in between Soap and Gaz like she did on normal missions.

The 141 and the additional team sent out with them set up in the safe house, setting down their weapons and beginning to set up who would be taking care of what. Grizzly discovered she was the only medic present, something surprising considering the amount of spec ops soldiers there was here. However, she doesn’t question it and continues along, simply giving her usual rundown to the men on the other team about what it meant to protect her as a medic and if she was ever incapacitated in any way the various ways to treat wounds.

She had never been incapacitated in any fights with the 141 besides in Las Almas when Graves had betrayed them and one of his Shadows had hit her with the butt of their rifle.

“Any questions?” Grizzly asks, eyes sweeping over the five men before her.

“Yeah,” one of them says after a moment, gaining her attention. “What’s an American like ya doing w’ us, huh?”

Ah.

This was gonna be a long mission.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

Next chapter we should get more Grizzly and Ghost action (cause I know they're not interacting a whole lot rn but there's a reason for that) ;3

#simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley #i love simon riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #original character #oh my god i'm so excited #original work #captain price #call of duty modern warfare #slow burn #guys #i can feel it #the creative process #it's beautiful

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nervouslaughter05 · 2 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men-Chapter 1

A/N: As promised, here is my second (and much happier might I say) addition to the CoD fandom! When the CoD edits started pouring into my TikTok feed, you would not believe how happy I was. Instantly, the healthy love I had felt for Ghost when I was younger and playing the game with my friends blossomed into a thirst quenchable only with the finest literature (Tumblr and Ao3 have been my saving grace) could satisfy.

I will be posting a ref sheet and a fact file for my OC on my art insta and here within hopefully the next week or so. Just know she is 5'6", has auburn hair she wears in a single french braid, and greyish-blue eyes.

Anyways, please heed the tags! I will be putting a note at the top of each chapter with some tags for that chapter specifically just for added protection for you readers :). Thank you and enjoy!

Art Insta: @timtoart05

C/W: blood and injury mention, OC patches up a bullet wound of a soldier and a knife wound (neither are described in graphic detail but blood is mentioned), minor language, mentions of killing and shooting

Masterlist

“Soap, I’m running a little low over here!”

“Here, catch!”

Grizzly snatches the magazine from the air, deftly reloading her rifle and taking aim at the incoming hostiles. She pulls the trigger and sends a ball of lead right between the eyes of one of the men. As he crumbles to the ground, she takes aim again, staring into her scope and sending another man into the dirt.

“We cannae keep this up!” Soap yells to be heard above the sound of gunfire, taking down targets of his own. “The fuckers jus’ keep comin’. ”

She sends another man to the grave, shouting back, “You think I don’t realize that?”

“Alpha, where the hell are you?” Grizzly questions, pressing the com resting in her ear that was tethered to a radio on her vest. “We’re gettin’ hammered out here!”

“About four minutes out,” her captain replies, the sound of helicopter blades slicing through the air traceable in the background. “Hold on.”

“Copy that.”

The marine to her right falls onto his back, clutching at his shoulder with a cry of pain. Her attention snaps from the rifle in her hands to the injured man, dropping it and hurrying to his side with her kit already open and ready to go. She keeps one of her hands pressing down on the one he already had on his shoulder to stanch the bleeding while the other pulls out gauze and cotton to pack the wound. Grizzly gently moves his shoulder up from the ground to check for an exit wound, instantly plugging her finger into the hole while she grasps a bottle of antiseptic.

“Count to three for me, corporal,” she orders, flicking open the cap while the injured soldier does as told.

Except she pours it on when he’s at one. He curses in pain, stiff beneath her steady hands. She expertly packs and bandages the wound. Once the gauze is firmly secured, the latex gloves get tossed away in favor of being swapped out for the combat ones.

“Can you still shoot?” she questions, hands already back on her rifle as she gets a nod from the corporal. “Good. Back to your post.”

Grizzly transitions from corpsman to sniper instantly, resuming her position and taking aim at the men below. Right as she gets ready to take down one of the men hunting them from the outside of the compound they’d holed themselves in, the remaining men begin dropping like flies. She catches sight of a sniper taking aim at them from their spot on top of a nearby building right before there’s a hulking form shooting them in the back of the head.

Ghost.

“Fuck yeah!” she yells, watching the last man drop dead as Alpha team sweeps through.

“Take that ya sonuva bitches!” Soap cheers, rising to his feet and a hand going to the com in his ear. “Just in time fellas.”

“You’re welcome,” Gaz replies, his voice filtering smoothly through the coms. “You comin’ down or do we need to move in?”

“Meet us halfway,” Soap tells him as Grizzly rises to her feet with the rifle grasped firmly in her hands.

He leads the way, their squad moving behind him in a line. She’s second to last, the marine with the injured shoulder in front of her while a massive brute is behind her. They move with ease, boots thumping on the stairs as all eight of them make their way from the third floor to the first.

Fresh air brushes fondly over her face once the squad is outside, soothing her heated skin.

“Good to see ya in one piece,” Gaz says, bumping Soap’s fist with his own in their handshake.

Grizzly ushers the marines onto the helicopter, turning to Gaz once the last soldier gets on. “Of course y'all make an appearance right as the numbers die down.”

He laughs, turning and leading them to the helicopter just as Ghost was coming back.

“Lieutenant,” she greets him, nodding at the helicopter. “Nice move out there. Bet that poor bastard didn’t even see you comin’. ”

He nods to her, voice gruff as he speaks. “Sergeants.”

She grins, climbing into the helicopter after Soap and settling into the first open spot she sees. Ghost follows closely after, dropping heavily into the seat at her left since the others had all filled up. Price enters last, nodding to her and Soap before taking a seat and ordering the pilots to take them back to base.

And just like that, the mission was a success.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Soap if you don’t stop moving I have the authority to knock you out.”

The man chuckles at the threat. “Doesn’t that go against your oath, Griz?”

She snorts, shoving him. “We’re surrounded by marines. You really think they’d care?”

Gaz laughs at the pout the Scot puts on at the reply. “Aw c’mon, man. Ya know she loves you too much to do somethin’ like tha’. ”

“Debatable,” she quips, winding the bandage around Soap’s thigh where he’d been knifed during the fight.

“A’m hurt, Griz,” Soap tells her, placing a hand over where his heart is and putting on a mock frown.

She chuckles. “Oh come on ya big baby. Even if I did knock you out, I’d make sure you were properly taken care of. I can’t be the only raging Scot around here to celebrate the death of the queen.”

Soap laughs at that, unable to stay mad while Gaz deadpans. “Guess yer right, lass. Even if yer only half.”

“Only one who ken wat yer talking ‘bout, Soap,” Grizzly says, laughing at the other man in the room with them shaking his head.

“Even after all these years I still can’t understand the two of ya.”

“Don’t need to,” she hums, standing and encouraging Soap to do the same to check his bandages. “How’s that feel?”

“Better,” he replies, heading for the door of the med ward. “Wanna get some eats? The mess should still be open.”

Grizzly follows closely behind the other sergeant with Gaz at her side, making their way through the base. It wasn’t the one they called home, but considering she had spent five years in the marine corps before being called by Price to join his budding 141, she was able to steer them in the right direction. Marines walked past, nodding in respect to her and the team. More than once she heard a teasing “Evenin’, Mama Bear” passing by. This just made her grin and keep walking, knowing it was the soldiers own way of showing their respect to her as a doctor.

“What’s up with their whole thing of calling you ‘Mama Bear’, Griz?” Soap asks as they enter the mess hall and get into line. “I don’t think I’ve heard any of them refer to you by Grizzly once.”

She shrugs. “That’s just the marine way, Soap. Gotta show their respect somehow. Many of them knew me back when I was still a corpsman meaning that I saved a lot of their asses out in combat.”

The room was still full of marines of various rankings shuffling about and sitting at tables eating. When she steps out of line to wait for Gaz and Soap to finish being served up, a squad marches in. They’re all very loud, shoving one another with playful roughness in line. She rolls her eyes at the display, all too familiar with it even after being officially away from the scene for nearly three years at this point.

Her other two team members finally step away with their food, at her sides as they find a place to sit down and eat. She spies an empty table against the back wall, turning to face Gaz and Soap. Grizzly nods in the direction of the table, weaving through the mass of tables and bodies crowding them. They get to the back of the room, settling down and digging in.

“How was the mission, Mama Bear?” a marine sitting at the table about two feet from theirs inquires, catching her attention right as she was taking a bite of her food.

Another marine cuts in before she can answer. “Oh come on Daniels. Ya know it went well. Any team with Mama Bear as the corpsman is gonna make it out in one piece. Ain't that right, Mama Bear?”

“Damn straight,” she replies, a grin on her face. “There’s a reason why you’re cautioned against riling up a grizzly with cubs, fellas.”

The marines chuckle at her response, leaving her to eat the rest of the meal in peace.

“That was so corny,” Gaz teases, sipping his juice.

She shrugs. “True though ain’t it?”

He just huffs out a laugh and keeps eating. Soap swaps banter with the marines and Grizzly joins in every now and then, amused highly at the confused expressions on the faces of the marines when she used her thick Scottish accent. Eventually the marines finish up, leaving with a chorus of “bye Mama Bear!”s and nods to the men she was with.

She pulls her phone out, shooting a quick text to her older brother as she remembered something random he’d asked her on a call they’d had a few days ago. Before she could put it away, her ringtone goes off and the caller ID of “Mom” pops up. Without skipping a beat, her ringtone is silenced and the phone is put back into one of the side pockets of her cargos.

“Scammer?” Gaz asks, gaze curious.

Grizzly shakes her head, going back to eating. “Nah. My mom.”

Soap’s head snaps up, eyes meeting hers. “Why’re you hanging up on yer mum, Griz? Wat’s the woman done now, aye?”

“The usual,” is all she replies with, finishing off the last of her food and drinking the rest of her juice. “Her latest fixation is kinda funny though.”

Gaz seems slightly nervous as he asks, “And what would that be?”

She looks up from her tray of food, meeting his gaze. “When she’s gonna be getting grandkids from me.”

Soap nearly chokes on his drink from the snort of laughter that spills from his lips while Gaz takes a moment to process her words.

“Wat aboot findin’ a partner first?” the Scot manages to say between his wheezing laughs, trying to rein it in. “Ye cannae jus’ pop out a pup at her request.”

“That’s what I tried to tell her,” Grizzly says, pinching the bridge of her nose between her pointer finger and thumb with furrowed brows. “So then she just goes ‘When’s the wedding then?’ and I almost lost it.”

Soap’s laughter rings out as Gaz shakes his head, shoulders shaking with his own laughs.

“Sounds awful,” Gaz concedes. “She want you out of the military or somethin’?”

She nods, rising from the table as the men do the same. “Exactly. She hates how long I’ve been in for. Thinks I need to get out and do normal ‘woman things’-whatever the hell that means.”

“She’s very old fashioned isn’t she?” Gaz remarks, walking beside her.

“Old-fashioned is an understatement, Gaz.”

The three of them walk out of the mess hall together, passing by the packed tables of marines. Murmurs follow in their wake, speaking of the prestige of the team. She’s amused by the murmurs, having grown used to them after spending a few years in 141. Soap and Gaz converse while they walk, the former very animated in his speaking and hand movements.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket against her leg, but she pointedly ignores it.

“Ey Ghost!”

She had zoned out, not seeing the approach of their team’s lieutenant. He nods to them in greeting, trying to go on his way around Soap. The insistent sergeant however blocks him, striking up–or at least tries to–a conversation with the other man.

“Where ya off to, L.t?” Soap asks, sunshine attitude leaking from him in waves.

Ghost looks down, voice neutral. “None of your business, Johnny.”

Grizzly rolls her eyes with an affectionate huff, stepping forward and placing a hand on Soap’s shoulder. “Leave ‘em alone, Soap. Maybe he just wants some peace and quiet away from you.”

The Scot guffaws, pouting at her. He looks back at Ghost. “Tell me it’s not true, Ghost!”

Ghost huffs, and she can tell from his expression alone he was raising an eyebrow beneath the mask. “Why? No point in lying to ya.”

She laughs at the mock anguish Soap plasters on his face, getting to relieve the sergeant’s drama from earlier when she’d been treating his wound. Gaz chuckles, heading down the hallway in the direction of the barracks and showers with a soft “M gonna clean up” to Grizzly. She watches him go for a moment before turning her attention back to the lieutenant and the other sergeant.

“Ya wound me, Ghost,” Soap sighs dramatically, sagging down into Grizzly’s hold. “At least I still have ya Griz.”

“Wouldn’t change a thing, Soap,” she tells him, patting his back.

“Since ya want to know so badly,” Ghost says, getting the Scot to perk up. “I was heading to the gym.”

She looks up at the lieutenant, slightly surprised before realizing this was Ghost they were talking to.

“Lookin’ for some sparrin’ partners?” Soap asks, slinging an arm around Grizzly so she couldn’t slink away. “Am sure Griz would love to spar wi’ ya. Right?”

“I’ll break your arm, Soap.”

He laughs. “Calm down, shorty.”

“Show some respect to your superior,” she orders playfully, squirming from his grip. “I didn’t get into the military two years before you did just to not be shown the respect I’m due.”

Soap grins. “Sounds like we ‘ave an issue to deal wi’. Care to fight it out?”

She glances up at Ghost–Christ why did she have to be so short compared to him–who had an expression of a man resigned to an interrupted workout and then back at the Scot. “You’re on.”

#simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley #i love simon riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #original character #oh my god i'm so excited #original work

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