It was supposed to be one night.

You met him in a crowded Manchester pub. His name was Simon, he was military, and he had the driest sense of humour you’d ever encountered. One drink became two, and eventually you followed him back to his hotel.It was just a one night.. without a word or an thank you note..Just one night

There were no promises. No numbers exchanged.

By morning, you were gone.

Nearly two months later, you found yourself inside a military facility, transferred to work alongside Task Force 141. A place where high trained soldiers and highly classified operations..Apparently their captain didnt believe in giving new comers more information than necessary

Captain Price walked beside you, explaining the basics.

“Gaz and Soap are around somewhere. You’ll meet them soon enough. And Riley should be—”

Price opened a door.

You stopped dead.

A massive man stood beside a table covered in weapons and mission files. Tactical gear replaced the black jacket you remembered, and a skull-patterned mask covered most of his face.

But those eyes?

You knew them.

Simon went completely still.

Price, unaware of the tension, continued.

“Lieutenant Simon Riley. Ghost. He’ll be working closely with you while you settle in.”

Working closely?

Of course he would.

You forced yourself to look professional and extended your hand.

“Lieutenant.”

Simon stared at your hand before taking it. His grip was firm, familiar.

“Sergeant.”

Price’s brow furrowed.“You two met before?”

*“No,” you answered immediately.

“Yes,” Simon said at the same time.

You shot him a look.

“Briefly,” ,you corrected.

“Briefly?&” Simon repeated, amusement barely hidden beneath his mask.

Price glanced between you both before shrugging.

“Briefing’s at eighteen hundred. Ghost can show you around.”

Then he left.

The door clicked shut.

*Silence filled the room.

Two months ago, you’d walked out of Simon Riley’s hotel expecting never to see him again.

Now he was your lieutenant.