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luna-andra · 1 year

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The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 1: Smoke Signals

Summary:

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley retired from the forces; Task Force 141 was decommissioned once they completed their last mission. Take down Shepherd. Everyone on the team stayed in touch, as well as the other comrades they met along the way. Los Vaqueros. KorTac. And many others. Shadow Company - what remained of it - slipped under the shadows and scattered themselves into the wind. Riley made the decision not to return back to Manchester. He was only less than 30 minutes away on the outskirts in Disley. Soap had put in a good word for Ghost with a local mechanic shop, and having nothing else but military experience and some basic mechanic skills he accepted it.

It was a quiet life, at least that’s what he thought. He started recognizing signs that he was being followed, watched. Maybe it was just the PTSD making him believe it. Until it got so much worse when he became acquainted with his neighbor miles down the old dirt path road, he realized that he would never be free from his past life.

CONTENT WARNING: Violence, eventual smut, MDNI (18+), slow burn, fluff, mentions of mental health

***Chapter 2 is already published on AO3, link in bio!***

He could see the smoke rising from down the street as he was piling into his work truck. “The hell..?” No one should be coming down this road, no one else but him and the farmer neighbor. The chance of some lone driver coming this way was slim to none; they were a mile down from the next main road, and this road ended in a dead end at that. Curiosity got the best of him. Ghost climbed into the cabin of the truck and turned the key into the ignition. His truck rolled down his driveway and he took a right in the direction of the smoke.

Immediately he spotted the farmer’s truck, stalled out in the direction of going down to their house. He reached for his skull balaclava and slipped it over his face, concealing himself naturally. He pulled up right behind the truck and cut the engine, leaving the cabin to approach the truck. Gravel crunched beneath his heavy feet as he took in a grounding inhale, his fist flexed beside him.

The hood was popped open. Ghost could hear the hissing of the engine, followed with aggravated curses coming from what sounded like a woman. He could see her little frame aggravated at her vehicle failing her. “Ma’am, do you need help?”

Her head peered over from the side of the hood. She squinted at first and her brows furrowed in confusion, followed by her honey brown eyes widening in caution.

Ghost put up his hands, realizing how menacing he must fucking look. She couldn’t have been taller than five foot three while he towered at six foot two. His stature could easily overpower hers. Can’t be more than 58 kilos. “I’m your neighbor, I saw your accidental smoke signal from up the road.” He pointed behind him in the direction of his house.

Her shoulders relaxed, but her eyes remained cold and hard as he neared closer to her. Or at least tried to look that way. “Yeah, my truck stalled out on me and started smoking up. Just my fucking luck,” she snarled as she kicked the passenger side tire with her small foot.

“Easy there, gonna fracture that foot.” Ghost immediately noticed that she had an American accent. What’s an American doing out in rural UK? “Let me take a look at it. I got my tools in my truck.”

She blew out a frustrated exhale as she ran a hand through her short brown hair. “Thank you, neighbor..”

“It’s Ghost-” he couldn’t stop himself from finishing his introduction. Still calling himself by his call sign after all of this time. “Simon, I mean.” His true name coming from his own mouth felt unfamiliar, like he hadn’t been Simon in a long time.

She raised an eyebrow at him, amusement kindling in her eyes. “Is Ghost a nickname you go by?”

“Something like that,” He muttered. “Be right back.” Ghost trudged back to his own truck to grab his gloves and tool bag. Fuckin’ hell… sound like a stupid sod. He slammed the door of his cabin and made his way back, watching her lean up against the truck as her chestnut hair blew in the gentle breeze. He took in every detail of her; from the way her red and black plaid shirt was coming untucked at her faded jeans, to how her fingers tapped against her thigh like she was suppressing her irritation at this inconvenience. There was a definition in her arms if you looked hard enough, you could catch her flex the muscle she had. Realizing it was probably creepy, he shook his head and returned his attention to her truck.

“I’m Andra, by the way,” she uttered insecurely.

Ghost peered up to her and nodded. “Pleasure to meet ya.” He got to work trying to diagnose what the issue at hand was, gloving up his calloused hands. She stepped around where she was propped up against the truck to watch Ghost work, eyes peeking up to his masked face every now and then. A silence loomed over them for a moment. He’s used to people talking his ear off, but she was as quiet as a mouse. She's likely still apprehensive with meeting Ghost this way, and he didn’t blame her. “What brought an American to the countryside of the UK, Andra?”

Andra crossed her arms over her chest as she shifted on the balls of her feet. “A couple of different things, honestly.” There was a miniscule southern drawl in the inflection of her voice. Ghost would have easily missed it if he wasn’t paying attention.

“Name one,” he asked gruffly, still concentrating on finding the problem.

Her hair wisped around as she looked away, down the dead end street. “I wanted a new start. Threw a dart at a map and this is where I landed.”

He chuckled to himself, not believing her for one second. No one wanted to come live in Disley, there was nothing out here. “Must have poor aim.” He paused before considering his next question, but he went for it anyway. “Just you?”

“Just me.”

The tone in her voice didn’t reflect any kind of sadness, or anger for that matter. She just stated it with conviction.

After a thorough look, he stood up straight and rested a hand on the lid of the hood. “It’s a transmission issue.”

Andra groaned and threw her head back. “Just what I needed.”

Ghost pushed the hood shut and pulled his gloves off. “I can tow it to my shop and we can see what we can do about it. We can do some kind of payment plan-”

“No, it’s okay I can pay outright,” Andra protested. “I’m not worried about the cost, I just worry about how long it’s gonna be in the shop for.”

He tapped his fingers on the hood. “I can give you a more accurate time frame and quote when I take it there.”

Andra nodded, clapping her hands together. “Alright, let’s get her in the shop.” Ghost reached down to grab his tool bag and she smiled at him. “Thank you for coming to my aid. You didn’t have to stop to help me.”

Ghost didn’t say anything else, just gave her a terse nod and returned to his truck.

----

Andra felt confined in the large cabin of Ghost’s - Simon’s? - truck. The drive there was filled with silence. He allowed her to ride with him on the way, and she couldn’t help but think that this is how her murder mystery, unsolved case would begin. A hunking, bulky masked man pretending to assist a tiny American woman, whilst towing her own vehicle. He could easily get rid of her truck, take it to a chop shop and make her disappear. No one would care about an immigrant being found.

Andra tried to shake those thoughts away. He truly appeared to be genuine about his intentions. It was probably good business for his mechanic shop, too. Ghost insisted on driving her back, or at least paying for the taxi or Uber for the way back, but she wouldn’t let him. He had helped plenty enough, moreso helped when they had only just met.

“Where in the states are you from?” Ghost’s brassy British voice broke the uncomfortable silence, keeping his eyes on the road with one hand on the wheel, the other arm resting on the windowsill of the door. His biceps bulged out from the short-sleeved black shirt he wore. The arm closest to her, gripping the wheel, was littered with tattoos. She was too nervous to take a closer look at what they were, to her it was monochrome art littering his tanned skin.

“South, from Texas,” Andra responded truthfully.

He took a quick glance at her inquisitively before returning his focus on the road and let out a heavy exhale. "Texas is nice..." he muttered a response.

Andra was surprised, turning to look at him. "You've been to the states?" Her eyes roamed to the tattoos on his arm once again, noticing what looked like could be military insignia patches. "Wait, you're prior military, aren't you?"

Ghost stiffened, realizing that he gave himself away. "I was in special forces, SAS. Crossed the border into Texas on a mission."

Andra had to keep her jaw from dropping in disbelief. It was making sense now, though, and she laughed softly before looking back to the road ahead of them, now seeing civilization greeting them. "So Ghost was your call sign?"

He side eyed her with furrowed brows. "Are you a veteran?"

She relaxed further into her seat, feeling comfortable enough to open up more to him. "Half of my family is prior military; father, granddad, several uncles, a brother. I'm a little more versed than the average civilian, involuntarily."

He hummed in acknowledgement. Silence fell over them once again. Andra was inclined to find out more about her mysterious neighbor. “Did you grow up here in Disley?”

He took a second to answer her back. “Manchester,” Ghost responded. “Couldn’t stand being in the city, I enjoy the quiet.”

Andra smiled, “I agree.” her hands flittered with the edge of her shirt. “Was there anything you enjoyed while you were in Texas?” She felt like an idiot trying to draw out the conversation from him.

“Not particularly. It’s hot as hell there.”

She cracked up at his response. “You’re not wrong. That’s the one thing I do not miss from there. So much cooler here in the Summer. I do miss having a/c, though.”

He laughed, the rich sound vibrated through her. “That is one thing you Americans do have that we don’t.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I bet you’ve been to so many places.”

An agreeing rumble came from his throat. “Lost count.”

Ghost was short when it came to small talk, but Andra didn’t mind. Her concern of going missing was put on the back burner in the recesses of her mind. It never ceased to amaze her that the saying “small world” rings true no matter how many times it has occurred in her life. She couldn’t refrain from her growing curiosity.

But her curiosity would have to lead her to revealing more than she may be comfortable with.

----

Andra sat in the waiting area while Ghost unloaded her truck and pulled it into the shop. He had to explain to everyone else what the hold-up was about, but they shrugged indifferently.

“That’s fine,” Rus said as he turned his head to peer at him. “Just don’t take anything other than financial compensation for her work, you hear?”

Ghost glared at him with disgust when Rus chuckled. He was well aware of how vile some of the mechanics could be in his shop, but it never crossed his mind to entertain similar behavior.

Soap approached Ghost as he wiped his hands with an oily rag. “Who’s the pretty thing that came in with you?”

Ghost was growing irrationally irritated with everyone making comments about Andra, and Soap was no exception to his wrath. His eyes darkened as he silently assaulted him with a venomous glare. “No one.”

“C’mon, Ghost.” Soap followed him to the back of the shop, “You’re not the kind of guy to be picking up random lasses, and I can count on one hand how many have gone wit’ ye anywhere voluntarily. ‘Course they were sloshed at the tim-”

“Johnny.” He growled his last warning.

“Alright,” he dropped the subject and returned to work mode, assisting Ghost with the lift. “Is this her truck?”

“Yeah.”

Ghost kept a watchful eye on her, taking note on how she brushed the hem of her shirt with her small hands. Her eyes scanned inside the shop, examining everyone’s face. When she found him, he looked back down at the diagnostics terminal, and he avoided her gaze for the rest of the time until he absolutely had to approach her.

There was a persistent thought in the back of his mind he kept revolving back around to. Why is an American woman from Texas here? It had to be the wildest coincidence known to man, right? There were times where Ghost would get the sense that he was being followed. Watched. When he went out to the pub with Johnny, while he worked sometime. Even when the two of them would go on hunting trips, where no one else should know of their location. He couldn’t shake the notion that there were watchful eyes beyond the high ground.

It bothered her how easily she trusted him. Accepting help from a neighbor you know is one thing, but from a complete stranger? And why was said stranger so eager to help her in the first place? Ghost’s neck tensed up, he rolled his head as he could feel a headache blooming in his temples.

Soap always told him that he was being paranoid, and he was probably right. If there was something afoot, he could count on him to detect if something was off.

----

Andra had already hailed for a cab, it would be a little while before they could arrive to take her home. She didn’t mind the delay; she was still waiting for Ghost to give her the ETA and the quote on the repair. She sat in the lobby patiently, inspecting her nails as her leg bobbed, crossed over the other. I should’ve grabbed my book from the truck, she regretted.

Andra had scrolled through her social media and grew bored of that easily. All she was seeing was updates from old friends back home. She didn’t want to be reminded how far away she was from old connections and family. It made her homesick, a notion she refused to acknowledge.

The door to the main workshop swung open, and Ghost walked through. She stood up from her chair as he walked up to her. “I’m sorry for making you wait, I am looking for a supplier to send us the parts sooner than what I have been getting.”

“How long are we talking?” Andra asked nervously.

“Two months.” He answered.

She exhaled in defeat, running a hand through her hair and it fell back in place. “That’s gonna put me in a super tight spot, I won’t be able to sell at the farmer’s market.”

Ghost shifted from one foot to another, looking down at her. “I’m not finished going through our list of suppliers, so I will let you know if anyone can send parts in sooner. In the meantime,” he handed out a plain business card to her. “I put my personal cell number on the back so you can call later or tomorrow for an update.”

Andra took the card and looked down at it before glancing back up to his implicit eyes. “Thanks, Ghost. You really saved me today.”

He nodded. “Do you have any belongings you need to get from your truck?”

“Oh yes,” she remembered. “I just wanted to get my book from inside. It’s sitting on the passenger seat up front.”

Ghost insisted on retrieving it for her. He opened the passenger door and found the well loved book laying there, looking back up to him. He made note of the title and the author; it sounded like a mystery-horror type of read. Ghost wiped his hand off on his work pants to avoid staining the cover and pulled it out before closing the door. He went back to the lobby and handed the book to her. “Get home safe,” he cleared off as he turned away from her and returned to the shop.

Andra turned over the business card, studying his scratchy handwriting. It was legible enough for her to make out the numbers, and she smirked as he scribbled ‘Ghost’ below.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #call of duty mw 2 #cod mw2 #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #captain john price #mwii #retired au #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro vargas

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luna-andra · 1 year

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The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 3: Smooth Operator

Summary:

CONTENT WARNING: Violence, eventual smut, MDNI (18+), slow burn, fluff, mentions of mental health

Next chapter

Sunday morning arrived with a thick, foggy veil looming over the grass. Andra took a moment to look outside her bedroom window from her bed, mustering the will to get up after her alarm clock blared in her ears. Sammy stretched across the duvet, shaking off the same sleepiness from the night before. Andra finally crawled out of bed, dragging her feet into her en suite bathroom, flipping the lights on begrudgingly. She was on autopilot, going through her morning routine of hair, teeth, skincare. Her work outfit was laid out on her black, velvet lounge chair tucked in one of the corner's of her room. Trusty plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a tank top beneath in case the heat came to play and a pair of faded jeans. Her boots always waited for her by the front door. She could smell the coffee brewing downstairs in the kitchen, the machine always pre-scheduled for market mornings. Her reflection in the vanity mirror caught her attention, and she took a quick look, contemplating if some blush or mascara would be too much. She did it anyway, keeping the makeup light. It made her smile at her bright reflection.

The stairs creaked beneath her socked feet as she put a little hustle in her step, along with Sammy's own trot in front of her. She had messaged Ghost the time to show up, asking to be a little early so she could hook up the trailer to his truck the night before. When she checked for messages, there was no response. There was still a fair amount of time before he was supposed to arrive, giving her grace to be ready to go by the time he arrived. Her coffee made a satisfying pour into her travel tumbler, greeting her with caffeinated promises of energy. Creamer, sugar, lid. Good to go.

Andra caught herself humming a tune that's been stuck in her mind, the melody of an upbeat song from a new artist she discovered. When was the last time she actually hummed, or did anything bubbly and perky in the morning? It was a good feeling, like the morning of your vacation, or for some the first day of school. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't because she was looking forward to spending the morning with Ghost.

Sammy danced around Andra's feet, and they made their way to the front door so she could be let out to do her business and burn off the morning zoomies. The front door needed a little shove with the way it stuck to the threshold, and groaned as it swung open. The morning air was moist from the fog, its presence ghosted against her exposed arms. It reminded her of the humid Autumn mornings back in Texas, humid so thick it felt like you were getting licked by a cow. Dew drops glittered across the petals of the daylilies growing in her flowerbeds. They expanded down in front of the house, and continued a little ways off the walkway leading to the gravel patches where her truck is normally parked.

The clucking of her chickens swept her away from admiring the view she loved waking up to everyday, and she stepped down from the porch to start tending to the chickens. During morning chores, Andra heard the familiar sound of tires crunching over the gravel in the road. The glow of headlights intensified, coming closer into view, and a truck was making its turn into her driveway. She finished spreading chicken feed on the ground and collected the basket of eggs, closing the pen behind her.

The engine of the truck purred as it came to a halt, and she saw Johnny exiting the driver's side, his head poking up from above the door and greeted her with a supermodel smile. "Mornin'!"

"Good morning," Andra called back, noticing the empty passenger seat inside the cabin. She shoved down her disappointment and smiled back. "Is it just you today?"

"Yep, I'm gonna be yer farm hand for today." He hung off the foot rail of the truck. "Where do you need me to park?"

Andra pointed to the barn that sat further in the back. "Follow this path, go ahead and reverse into the barn. I'll open the doors.

Johnny gave her a "Yes ma'am!" and ducked back into the truck, switching gears and following her instructions. The truck rolled slowly behind Andra as she jogged towards the barn. Johnny maneuvered the wheel, throwing the gear in reverse and waited until he could see in the rear view mirror that the doors were open. He cut the engine, shutting the door behind him and followed Andra into the barn. The trailer was as close to the rear of the truck so they could hook it up with ease.

The two of them worked diligently as she communicated on what needed to be taken with them. "Is there a missus I'm gonna have to thank later for letting you help?"

"Nope," Johnny answered as he finished hooking up the trailer, climbing on top of it to get started on loading up the crates. "Too busy to give a woman my time.”

"That's what all the pretty ones say," she teases. Andra passed him crate after crate and he gently loaded them up, fitting onto the trailer like tetris pieces.

Johnny raised an eyebrow as he leaned down for another, one arm resting on his bent knee. "That was almost a compliment." He accepted another crate before retorting. "Were you escaping some crazy ex when you left the US? Or were you fleeing because of some crime you committed?"

Her laughter was laced with sarcasm. "I wish my reason for leaving was that interesting." Or more mundane than the truth…

"So if I run a background check on ye, it won't come back with a criminal record?" Johnny smirked. "I have friends in the CIA to check on that."

Andra rolled her eyes, failing to hold back a grin. "I can see why you're single now, Johnny. Idle threats of stalking will definitely send a woman running."

Once everything was fit snug, they threw a tarp over it all to avoid anything flying off the trailer. Last was the canopy, table, chairs, her signs and a cooler for some beverages and snacks for them to have. Andra made a quick pit stop inside the house to store the collected eggs in the fridge.

When she opened the door, Sammy perked her head up when she noticed Johnny approaching the entrance, her tail tucked in close, serious and on alert. Andra noticed her behavior and gave Sammy a pet on the head. "No, behave baby. Johnny is a friend."

He wasn't taking any chances befriending the miniature mammoth. "I'll wait out in the truck," Johnny kept his eyes on Sammy as he gently closed the door.

After locking up the house, coffee in hand, she approached his truck. "Don’t feel bad, she's like that with every man she sees. If you give her a treat, you'll win her over. We're all set."

Johnny took his work gloves off simultaneously with Andra. "Let's get going then." Andra had noticed it the last time, but it was more obvious that Johnny's truck was the twin to Ghost's. The same make and model, color, possibly the same year. Albeit, a tad bit more messy, but it was all tossed to the backseat to make room for her. Music played in the background at a comfortable volume. "You go through this every Sunday by yourself?" Johnny turned and grinned, shoving her shoulder with a playful fist. "You got muscles packing heat beneath that shirt."

Andra laughed sheepishly, taking her first sip of coffee. It was sitting at the perfect lukewarm temp, pulling a satisfied sigh from her. The thought of Ghost sitting out on today's excursion made her face fall. "Did I do something to make him upset?"

Johnny knew exactly what she was referring to, his response almost sounded rehearsed. "He doesn't do well when it comes to people looking at him the wrong way too often, you know because of his mask? He figured that if he was giving death stares to every customer that side-eyed him, you would have a hard time making profit." A playful grin returned to his face. "Is that why you wore makeup? Upset about the effort you made?"

Her face turned a furious shade of pink. "I always do my makeup," she lied.

A soft snort came from him.

She couldn't stop herself from prying more information from him. It felt a little wrong to try and learn about who Ghost was and is today, but it certainly wasn't gonna come easy from the man himself. "Has he always been like this? Ever since you two met?"

Johnny hesitated, trying to choose his words carefully. "Aye. A man of few words when I had been assigned to my first mission, with him. I never thought there was a way to get through to his defenses, but there was a pivotal shift on a different mission. He stuck around, waited for me to meet up with him, and…" he stopped. "The long of it is, when you have earned his trust and loyalty, he's there for you.

"He may not have said it out loud, but he did want to be here today. He gets in his head a lot and self-sabotages anything good for him. If you have it in you, keep reaching out to him. 'Should've seen the way his eyes lit up when he saw you inside the bookstore-"

"What?" her neck snapped to his direction, her eyes wide with a hundred questions. "He saw me at the bookstore?"

"We were having lunch across the street, mere coincidence," Johnny explained.

After the initial surprise subsided, she tried to imagine his brown eyes in any other expression than cold and distant, emotionally absent. Eyes that soften to the sight of a kindling flame, disarming all of his defenses to accept the warmth it offers. Eyes that creases when a smile crosses his face, or squints in uncontrollable laughter from a comical moment amongst friends. Eyes that devour and claim, a dark storm that made her stomach coil deep below-

She found her way back to the inside of Johnny's truck, her hands fisted the metal tumbler in her hands. "You didn’t have to be here," she started after thick silence had loomed over them. "But I'm extremely grateful."

Johnny nodded. "Wasn't gonna leave you stranded with no help." He decided to swerve from the topic. "So, is it true what they say about Texan women?"

"What, that they're crazy?"

The rest of the drive was depleted of anymore talk about Ghost, but he was there in the forefront of her thoughts. Johnny was easier to talk to, he continuously made crude and inappropriate jokes, the banter reminding her of her brother back home. They were always laughing themselves to belly aches. Johnny was like a golden retriever where Ghost was the illusive black cat.

"My call sign was Soap," he responded to her previous inquiry.

"What kind of call sign is that?"

Johnny shoved her playfully. "You probably would have picked something lame like 'Knives' or picked the low hangin' fruit and gone by Tex."

Andra scoffed. "You're probably right."

Their laughter subsided as they pulled into the oversized parking lot where the market was getting ready for the day. "Why didn't you join the military? For someone that came from a family that was all about it, I'm surprised you didn't."

"Disqualified." Andra said, unwilling to elaborate on what that entailed.

Johnny just nodded.

The two constructed the booth just in time for the traffic of customers and in no time they got to work. Andra had Johnny take care of the bagging up for a while, explaining how to package certain produce with care. There wasn't much to learn about the trade, but he listened to her talking to customers when they would ask questions like if they were grown pesticide-free and other stuff along those lines.

Some neighboring vendors visited to drop off fresh baked bread, meat and fish in exchange for her produce. He found himself genuinely interested and fascinated with how everyone gravitated to her bubbly energy.

After a while there were several customers approaching the stall to get a better look at the Scotsman, women huddled together and giggling amongst themselves. Andra came up with the idea of letting him take over the "counter" to bring in the attention of the ladies that ogled him. Mostly older, aging women. He was aware of her angle, and played it to their advantage smoothly. Giving them dazzling smiles, winking at their flirtatious compliments and purposely flexing his muscles when he would move around to lift crates or while he handed paper bags to them.

"Where have you been hiding, good looking?" Janice, a regular, beamed at Johnny.

He chuckled, acting coy as he looked down before returning his glance to her. "Waited just for you to get here, ma'am."

She fanned her face dramatically. "You remind me of my late husband when he was shipped off back in World War 2." Janice went on, and Johnny listened to her keenly.

Compliments like those made Andra's chest tighten, feeling the swell of emotions catch in her throat. It brought her back to a memory of when she was in high school. She participated in Junior ROTC, and had visited her grandma in a Class B Army cadet uniform. She wanted her to see her at least once, her uniform dry cleaned, the creases sharp and crisp. Her ribbons stacked on her chest. The look of her grandma's eyes going wide, and her asking "are you being shipped out?" would be something that would never leave her. No, Abuela, I'm not joining the army yet. I still have two more years in high school. She passed away before her graduation.

"Take care, sweetie. I'll see you next week, and your eye candy, too."

"You too, Mrs. Winston!" Andra waved goodbye, shaking her head at her comment about Johnny.

He turned towards Andra now that they had a moment to sit down for a break. "She's a live wire, that one."

Andra held up a water bottle and a can of soda to Johnny, he accepted the water. "She didn't like me at all when I first got here. I'm sure it was because I'm American." They paused in the midst of their talk, taking gulps of cool, refreshing water. "I love how she talked about Mr. Winston with you. Do you get that a lot from older women? Them comparing you to their husbands?"

"Aye, hear it quite often. I'm starting to think they might be lying, there's more ugly sods in the service than pretty ones."

Andra choked on her water and swatted his arm. "Behave, Soap ." she said it in a mocking tone, trying to sound like him when he said it.

The time flew by as they finished up for the day. Johnny finished packing up the stall equipment, letting Andra sit in the cabin as she flitted through the lock box of today's income. Johnny slid into the driver's seat and Andra passed an envelope that held a share of the profit. "What's this?" he asked, confused.

"Your cut for today," she explained.

He shook his head and put it back in her lap without skipping a beat. "I'm not accepting that, I was just your pretty poster boy."

She scoffed, slightly offended. "Johnny, shut up and listen. You helped me a lot today. I sold out for the first time and it was really because of you." She pulled out a few bills from the envelope. "At least take this for the gas money."

His eyes burned into her as he took the money one last time. "Don't pay me ever again. This is your livelihood, I'm not impeding on that. Now if you had me take my shirt off… then you would have had to pay extra." Johnny waggled his eyebrows at her, his shit-eating grin stretching across his face.

"Okay, you're done." Andra faced the passenger window, looking away from Johnny's abs when he started lifting his shirt facetiously.

----

The notification ping couldn't be heard over Ghost's protective ear gear, but he could feel the vibration of his phone in his pocket as he lay stomach down on the dirt ground, staring down the scope on his rifle at the targets he had set up. He took in a deep breath, in complete control of the air circulating in his lungs, then released as he took the shot. The ceramic target exploded on impact, his aim true as it always was. He racked another round in the chamber, resting the butt of the rifle into the dirt in front of him.

Ghost shoved a hand into his pocket, retrieving his phone to take a look at who or what was trying to catch his attention. It was a motion sensor notification, the one placed beneath the mailbox discreetly. The playback feed from the camera showed him a frame of Soap's truck, driving in the direction towards Andra's farm. He put his phone away, grabbed his rifle and stood from his prone stance. He was a little ways out from the house, but by the time he gets there, Soap should be gone.

Target practice was the therapy session he looked forward to. The therapy session he failed to mention to Soap that he mentioned to him the other day. It eased his mind, put him in a headspace of silence. Peace. Not a single thought except for how much wind resistance he had to put into consideration to hit his targets. Soap sometimes would join him, and friendly competition was always warranted between the two. Competition that Ghost would win most times.

He trudged up the makeshift alcove of the personal shooting range, tearing the headset from his ears. Crunching gravel beneath his boots was a sound that brought him comfort, along with the sound of the wildlife coming back to the vicinity once they deemed it safe from the loud boom of gunshots. So many missions, so many tours sounded just like this, when he was out on the field. Sometimes walking through thickets of trees, patrolling with Soap and others in his unit. Other times in the deserts of the middle east, sun beating down on his hooded head. It was those days that had him resenting himself for wearing the mask, suffering through the head while his hair stuck to the back of his neck like a sopping mop.

The backside of the house came into view after several minutes of reeling through some of the more tame memories Ghost carried. He slung the rifle over his shoulder, freeing his hands to file through his keyring to unlock the back door. The home greeted him with silence. It never bothered him before, rather it was something he preferred. But then the ringing in his ear made its presence, starting out quiet, becoming gradually louder. Ghost took three large strides to the cabinet in the kitchen, grabbing his anxiety medication shakily. The bottle gave him trouble, the ringing growing louder. It finally popped open, and he tossed a pill back, pushing down the discomfort of the dry swallow. The breathing exercises he was forced to learn came through, helping him find grounding to push through this.

He couldn't stand being in his own home for another minute. I have to get the fuck out of his house. Ghost lifted the rifle case and placed it on the dining room table, flipping it open. The bullet hopped out of the chamber as he disarmed the weapon, clinking against the ceramic floor tiles. He reached down for it, then resumed removing the magazine and unscrewing the scope. Once it was properly stored, out of sight in a disclosed location, he stormed to the front door, grabbing his keys and locking the house up tight.

Ghost packed himself into the truck, rolling a window down as he twisted the key into the ignition. The engine purred as he sat there for a moment, taking one last deep breath to collect himself while the medication metabolized in his system. Where am I going? The question simmered as he pulled up to the end of his driveway, sitting at the fork of the main road. If he turned left, it would take him out to town, and there's no place he truly fancies to visit. Or the other way, the beaten path that would lead to her house.

His hands gripped the wheel, the leather creaked beneath his fingers. The more he thought about it, the greater the chance he would chicken out. Ghost cut the wheel, taking a sharp right turn. Sighing heavily as he made his way down the dead end, driving the quick five minutes to Andra.

----

After Johnny left, Andra retreated to her room to change into something cooler and more relaxed. The pants stuck to her skin as if she jumped into a swimming pool fully clothed. She stumbled back onto her bed as she peeled them off, huffing as they finally accepted defeat and switched out for a pair of cotton shorts. The loud rapping of a knock on the downstairs floor alerted Sammy, making her go wild barking and howling.

Andra scurried downstairs, shushing her riled up companion and ordered her to go lay down. She peeped through the window, seeing Ghost stand there patiently, his eyes darting around observing his surroundings. Andra unlatched the locks, opening the groaning door. "Hey, look who decided to come out."

Ghost's eyes took in her presence, immediately returning back to her face when he realized how far down he looked. "I came over to return your basket." He held it up, holding it out for her to take.

She accepted the wicker basket from his hands and placed it down on the entrance table beside her. "We missed you today, at the market." Andra's voice came out small, thinly knotted with concern.

"We?" Ghost snorted a chuckle. It took Andra by surprise, but she held back from giving it away in her expression. "I think Johnny liked spending the morning with you, all to himself.

"Yeah, he liked getting on my nerves the whole time," Andra jokes. She could detect the deflection in his words, and she was trying to de-escalate it. "Would you like to come in?"

Ghost peered over her shoulder, looking for the whereabouts of her canine companion. "Your dog sounded pretty upset about an unexpected guest."

"Here," she reached into a container sitting on the table beside the door, handing Ghost a dog treat. "She'll automatically love you if you offer her food." Her whistle cut the air like a blade, beckoning Sammy.

The German Shepherd came running, halting as Ghost's figure appeared in her view. Her pause was brief, and she trotted happily and lifted herself up onto her hind legs, pawing at him with excitement as she licked his hands. Ghost laughed, petting her and rubbing behind her ears. "Hey there."

Andra couldn’t conceal the surprise as her jaw dropped. She didn't know what made her more happy, the fact that Sammy immediately liked Ghost, or the fact that Ghost was so loving and affectionate to a dog he just met. Sammy was smiling wide, rubbing her scent all over him as he rubbed her down.

"That's a first," Andra beamed at the two of them. "Sammy's really skittish around men.”

"Oh really?" Ghost looked back up to Andra, restraining himself from loving on Sammy any more.

"You wanna come in?" Andra cocked her head, beckoning him to come step inside, away from the unforgiving sun.

Ghost ducked his head beneath the low doorway, taking in her choice in décor. Her furniture was matching, part of a cohesive set, unlike the mismatched pieces like his. The walls were adorned with dark, gothic pieces, all framing around a dark, classing painting . Her taste in art was a stark contrast to what he saw on the outside of her. It was a little jarring. "Interesting art," Ghost commented.

"Henry Fuseli's 'The Nightmare'," she stated. "Obviously, not authentic. But one of my favorites."

His eyes focused on the work of art, and her eyes darted to his eyes, trying to uncover what thoughts circulated in his mysterious mind. "Who else am I gonna find hanging on your walls? Francisco Goya?"

Her eyes nearly twinkled with awe. "You know classic art?"

Ghost chucked. "Not much." His eyes found twin coffin-shaped bookshelves, one black and the other pink. He trekked closer to have a look at her book collection, recalling the book she was reading previously. It was there, tucked in between its siblings. "You read a lot."

His observation made her feel shy. "I read when I can. My books were the one thing I wanted to take with me from the states." Her eyes went wide when he slid a certain smutty book from the shelf, his fingers flicking through the color-coded annotation tabs and flipped open to one. "That's uh.."

He shut it, his own eyes going big as he returned it back to its place. "Got it." Ghost turned away to look for something else to turn his attention to, rubbing the back of his neck.

Andra laughed a little harder than she should, and Ghost turned to her smiling face. As if the embarrassment hadn't made him uneasy two seconds ago. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh." her laughter died down, the smile still stuck on her face.

"I'm not sorry. I'll read the whole damn thing if that's what it takes to hear you laugh again."

Oh. The heat rushed to her face, and her stomach did a flip. There it was, the intensity in his rich, espresso eyes. It made her smile fade, the depth of his stare too great for her to turn away from. "You gotta read it out loud, though." You did not just say that out loud.

She noticed how his mask rustled, concealing his grin. He shook his head and turned away, peering out the window that showed him the view of the chicken enclosure. "So I noticed something about your pen."

Andra allowed this change of subject, she felt like if he teased her back she would burst into flames. "What about it? You wanna go meet my chickens?"

"Well," he deflected the offer. "It's got a weak spot, it probably won't hold for much longer.

Her expression turned confused, almost sour. "Where do you see that?" She headed outside to investigate, and he followed in tow behind her.

Ghost pointed out how the fencing poked out. "The post is weak, if they get smart, they can take it out and roam free."

Andra crossed her arms over her chest defensively. Did he just come over to criticize her personal handiwork? She was a little flustered about someone pointing out what she did all on her own. "I made it myself, it's held just fine this whole time."

"And you did a good job." Ghost looked down at her, comprehending that his advice might have come off as mansplaining. "It's well-crafted, you should be proud of doing it all on your own. I just figured, I can help you fix it before they get loose…"

Her eyes softened, and it all clicked in place for her. He was looking for ways to spend more time with her. The "weak spot" in the pen really wasn't that big of a deal, she's known it for months now and has kept an eye on it in case it got worse. Ghost felt guilty for not showing up this morning, and he's trying to make up for it. She recalled what Johnny said earlier in the day.

He may not have said it out loud, but he wanted to be here with you today.

And yet again, he wasn't saying it out loud how he wanted to see her. Just in different words, and it melted the defensiveness that she erected way too quickly.

"Yes."

Ghost turned to her again, abandoning his inspection of the enclosure with questioning eyes.

"When you have time, I would appreciate it if you helped me fix it." Her cheeks warmed again, but she couldn't find it in herself to turn away from his soft gaze. She didn't want to miss out on how he looked at her, how the tenderness made her heart thrash against her ribcage. Because she didn't know the next time she would see him look at her like that.

special thanks to everyone who has engaged with my fic! This has become a dear project to me, something that I'm determined to complete, I am looking forward to writing so much more <3

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #call of duty mw 2 #cod mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x oc #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #captain john price #mwii #retired au #ghost x reader #ghost x oc #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro vargas

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