#mi6 uk

[vertigoartgore]

Allies turned enemies : promotional stills of 1995's GoldenEye with Sean Bean as Alec Trevelyan & Pierce Brosnan as James Bond.

[good--merits-accumulated]

merlin au with the vibes of the alex rider books. is anyone else seeing my vision

[generalelectionmusings]

[aisphotostuff]

007 - James Bond by Adam Swaine Via Flickr: 007 visited Suffolk last week near Newmarket..

[nando161mando]

"'The day before Britain and its World War Two allies remembered the D-Day landings the BBC broadcast a 25 minute documentary on the rise of fascism in Italy today, including shocking images of marching neo-fascists in their hundreds.

The documentary also included an interview with self-confessed fascist Roberto Fiore. That interview could have brought up Fiore’s past links with UK neo-fascists and how they set up some very dubious businesses. Or it could have mentioned Fiore’s conviction for an attack on the offices of the Italian trade union confederation, for which he received a jail term. Or when he fled to the UK in the aftermath of the Bologna railway station bombing, why he was offered MI6 protection.

The BBC failed to ask about any of these matters ...'" via @slackbastard

[immaculatasknight]

What you always suspected, but couldn't put your finger on

[latestnews-now]

UK intelligence chief Richard Moore has accused Russia of conducting a dangerously reckless sabotage campaign across Europe and warned that a Russian victory in Ukraine could embolden adversaries worldwide. Learn how MI6 and French intelligence are working to counter this threat. Discover the global implications and why Western unity is critical in this escalating crisis. Stay informed – watch now!

[elyseenmiel]

recently i have been learning so much about the british side of intelligence and it’s beginnings. really interesting. I’m having soooo many fic ideas derived from that. sigh missing my prodigy park girlie </3

[xtruss]

Britain's Spymasters Should Look In The Mirror To Find Undercover Operatives Stealing Secrets

— Mark Blacklock | January 12, 2024

Illustration: Liu Rui/Global Times

In recent years, Britain's Secret Intelligence Service has intensified its attacks on China for alleged spying activities in Britain. However, if the SIS wants to root out operatives working undercover to steal the country's secrets, they should perhaps ask themselves. The arrest of a businessman surnamed Huang by China's Ministry of State Security brings attention to the hypocrisy of the spymasters at MI6.

Huang, the head of an overseas consultancy, is accused of serious offences. He is said to have worked for SIS for about nine years, using the specialist skills and equipment provided to him after being recruited to steal state secrets. The MSS says that behind his façade as a businessman, his undercover job was to collect China-related intelligence for the British espionage agency and identify potential recruits.

It smacks of double standards. What else would you call repeatedly attacking another state by accusing it of something, and then cynically behaving in the same way?

Last year, the head of MI6, Richard Moore, said in2023 that China presented "an epoch-defining challenge" and that his organization commits more of its resources to Beijing's activities than to any other country. It is not the first time he criticized China. In 2021, he described China ominously as "an authoritarian state, with different values from ours."

The UK's assaults on China come in many forms. They can be a warning of vague, unsubstantiated allegations about individuals having undue influence on British politicians. They can come as personal attacks on people of Chinese heritage simply because they work with influential decision-makers to raise issues of concern to the UK's Chinese community (but without real evidence to back up the slurs). They can even come in the form of sudden arrests by police accusing people of serious espionage offences - and then letting those people go free without charge. A common feature of these events is that they created a great deal of smoke without fire - generating much Sinophobic sentiment fueled by unsupported allegations. Nothing came of them.

Mark Blacklock! Mark Blacklock is Lecturer in Modern and Contemporary Literature at Birkbeck College, University of London. He is the author of the cultural history The Emergence of the Fourth Dimension, and his most recent novel Hinton was longlisted for the Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction in 2021.

The most recent example is of Chris Cash, a researcher in the UK parliament, who was arrested, with an associate, under espionage laws. He could hardly be described as pro-China - he actually worked for an anti-China research group and vehemently denied wrongdoing. The substance of the investigation seems to have been that he had contact with influential politicians interested in Chinese affairs. It looked like guilt by association. Neither he nor his colleague have been charged.

Cash's arrest happened almost a year ago, but it did not become public knowledge until it was leaked to the British media six months later, creating negative publicity, at about the same time that Beijing was hoping to improve China-UK relations at a high level.

Two years ago, Christine Lee, a London-based lawyer of Chinese origin, was accused by Britain's domestic intelligence service, MI5, of being a spy for Beijing - and yet again, no arrests or charges followed. All that happened was that her reputation - and goodwill toward China - was severely damaged. The agency accused her of being "involved in political interference activities" in the UK. Lawmakers in the House of Commons were also given a so-called "interference alert" - the first issued in at least 80 years. Lee knew nothing about it until she saw media reports branding her "an enemy of the state." She later launched legal action against MI5 in a bid to clear her name.

Britain's intelligence services have clearly identified China as a target for their operations. Is one aspect of that to cast suspicion on people simply because of their Chinese background or with personal connections to China, or with a special interest in China? Why is there so much smoke without any fire, so many accusations without substantiation? In the Huang case London stands accused of doing the very thing it accuses Beijing of doing. It's astonishing hypocrisy, especially when the West has so often been caught out in the past.

— The Author is a Journalist and Lecturer in Britain.

[international-intelligence-inc]

Russian Soviet Putin Spies

[qqueenofhades]

I really really REALLY need to see more people makimg the connection between trump and his russian handlers tbh.......like i know we've somehow gone through the looking glass of putin apologia but that piece abt the NYT you just posted, the bots, the interference: in the bag for trump? Yes. But i dont believe its due to his or even republican power or popularity or forcefulness.......this is a man with so much debt and kompromat thats only getting worse!! Not to sound kwazy BUT WE ARE BEING FULLY INFLITRATED and at the risk of conspiracizing i think the russians are ALSO behind the Times's demise along with so many other information centers etc. Like i KNOW these leftists love him but like. Wouldnt they care a LITTLE abt being manipulated like this???

Trump is 100% an active, willing, and eager Russian agent. That's not even paranoid conspiracy theory, that's just the only reasonable interpretation of the facts:

NOT TO MENTION that in the next two years after the Helsinki conference where Trump kowtowed to Putin in every way, the CIA admitted to losing huge and unusually high numbers of classified informants around the world (not CIA agents, but people secretly working for the American government in often-hostile countries):

Once again, this all happened when Trump was in office, when he was actively handing over CIA intel to the Kremlin against the wishes of the entire national security establishment, and which other experts have suggested was directly as a result of Trump handing over the identities of American informants to Russia, including those stationed in Russia itself:

Now, I could go on, but you get the point. Not to mention that Trump just lost a major UK-based lawsuit against Christopher Steele, the former MI6 agent who was the first to provide documents linking Trump to Russia in the controversial "Steele dossier":

And now: Trump is deeply in hock for hundreds of millions in legal fees and punitive judgments that are only increasing by the day, he somehow just came up with $90 million to appeal the judgment against E. Jean Carroll (nobody knows where he got this money either), and Russian state TV spends all their time openly salivating for Trump's return to the presidency (so he can hand over Ukraine and the rest of NATO and, as he literally said, "let Russia do whatever the hell they want.") I know we're largely numb to all the awful treasonous shit that Trump does, but like. This isn't a conspiracy theory, this is just what's going on in plain sight, and while the Online Leftists have recently become so stupid that I honestly can't tell if it's just terminal brainworms or active Russian psyops, it's strongly indicated that it is in fact a mix of both:

So, like. Just some food for thought.

[hezekiahwakely]

The revelation of Lena sending Gwen to deliver the name and address to Mr. Bonzo begs the question - how much is the UK government aware of what the OIAR is doing? Is the OIAR the means for carrying out Britain's most illicit dirty work? Is Lena using Mr. Bonzo to assassinate enemies of the state?? Because I'm just imagining a group of seasoned anarchists huddled in a basement somewhere planning the Gunpowder Plot 2.0, and instead of MI6 or whatever busting in to dismantle them, a giant oozing mascot suit from the 90s shows up on their doorstep screaming its own name. How do you even regroup and recover from that psychologically.

[cheriladycl01]

Crash into my life - Lance Stroll x Civil Servent! Reader

Plot: You work in a fancy government job, pretty boring 9-5 but Lance Stroll and his insurance claim makes your job that little bit better

Your job wasn’t exactly fun, wasn’t exactly boring. It was one of those jobs that you’d got it at a young age and worked your way up through the ranks as you’d got better and better and because it was safe and something you were good at you stuck with it.

To keep it short and sweet you were a civil servant. Not like 007 kind of crazy stuff but you did work for MI6 in their fraud, tax and insurance department.

You basically took over insurance claims that were over a certain threshold and had to go through the government for … whatever reason whether they are a foreign National claiming in the UK or something.

Usually it was boring matters such as Chelsea Football Club claiming compensation for things as simple as water damages etc. You didn’t even really get to see anyone, you had the data and you analysed it against the scenario and hey presto you made your pay out.

Your favourite time of the year was winter. More claims came through and life was more unpredictable thanks to the whether. Delayed train into London St Pancreas? No tubes working so you have to make the 20 minute walk to your office building from the station. Slipping on ice, it was the only excitement you got in life which was honestly kind of sad.

For you it started at as a normal Monday. You woke up at 7am, brushed your teeth, got into a nice corporate appropriate outfit, got on the train, got a coffee from Pret before heading into your building.

That was your routine, and you didn’t often differ from it unless you had holiday booked. But working a 9-5 Monday - Friday often meant that you

But it felt like there was a different buzz today around the building like there was something going on.

When you all went into the morning briefing for the cases you’d get today, everyone was way too excited for 9am and the start of the day. You sat down next to your office buddy Shiv and looked around confused.

“What in earth is going on with everyone?” You ask looking over at Shiv who’s typing away on her laptop taking in information.

“Apparently there’s some really interesting cases to work on up for grabs today” she explains and you nod knowing once every blue moon some exciting things would crop up and have the whole office acting like kids on Christmas.

You’re all still waiting for the department boss to come in, joining in conversations about what could possibly be happening today.

“Ladies and Gents please take a seat for the meeting to commence. Thank you. Thank you” he offers smiling and everyone gets comfy.

“So we’ve got some exciting stuff today. I’ve formed a team to deal with the Train Networks Claim, that’ll be Shiv, Brayden and Ravi” he says and they all nod writing in their pads what tasks they’d have to do today.

He went through all of them apart from you, before dismissing the meeting. You were slightly confused and therefore packed up yours things a little slower than everyone else to see if you could stay behind and ask why you hadn’t been given an assignment.

“Y/N could you stay behind so I can talk to you for a moment” he asks and you nod, going to the end of the long conference table where he was stood.

“I like you, you’re young and learn quickly and I want you to progress more than you already have so I’m giving you a really important case. You’ll actually get to meet the said person affected, he’s … of high value so be considerate of your wording when talking to him. Alright thank you, here’s the case! Have a report to me by Friday” he offers and you nod happily. You take a seat opening up the material seeing the name of the claimer immediately.

Lance Stroll

You read through the facts, apparently he crashed his Aston Martin driving down the M1 to get to Silverstone into some sort of government van.

After analysing some of the data yourself, a knock comes on your office door from one of the younger interns.

“Erm, Y/N there’s two men in suits here to see you?” She asks rather than tells you, it wasn’t common for people to come in and out of the building due to the confidentiality of the work conducted here.

“Send them in please, but before you do ask them if they want anything. Tea, Coffee, Water” you smile and go back to reading another report from a police officer who was on the scene of the accident.

You watch as two men walk into your office space. One looking younger maybe the same age as you and one looking significantly older which you assumed was the dad.

“Good morning” you smile lightly before going back to some data on your computer. They took a seat, patiently waiting for you to address them.

Lawrence, who you’d just read about in the report who was indeed the father, cleared his throat as if to get your attention.

“Give me one minute Mr Stroll and I’ll be right with you” you smile, still nose in your computer.

“We’ve come all this way to the city centre to see you it would be appreciated if you didn’t waste our time” he huffs and even just from this reaction a bubbling of excitement started in you, just at the promise of actually seeing a client and talking to them in the flesh.

“I understand that, but I won’t be able to tell you much unless I see all the data” you say looking up at them through your glasses. This time you notice Lance and how he’s just sort of staring at you.

“Can I help you Mr Stroll?” You ask looking over him.

“No, I’m all good. Take your time” he smiles and you nod. In 5 minutes you believe you’ve combed through enough data to talk to them.

“This is awfully interesting I almost never get to see the people behind the claim” you smile happily and they both nod.

“Okay so so far from what I can see is there was a crash in your vintage Aston Martin that was for an event at Silverstone, the race track and that you got into a collision with a government van trailing a foreign national?” You ask.

“In short terms, yes … but” Lawrence tries to declare.

“And you weren’t present Mr Stroll” you say looking in the direction of the older man.

“No I wasn’t” he huffs out.

“Okay, then I will ask you to just step out my office while I get an account of the events from your son, if that’s alright with you. Just down the corridor there’s a waiting room there, help yourself to the food and drink in there” you smile hoping to butter him up a little to get him out.

“Alright” he says before taking his leave.

“Okay Mr Stroll lets…” you start but he interrupts you.

“Lance, please just call me Lance” he offers and you nod.

“Well Lance, it’s not … looking great” you start of slowly and he looks at you shocked.

“What do you mean? Your guys went into me?” He says raising his voice slightly and you give him a stern look that has him sinking into his seat.

“Don’t come into my office and raise your voice when I’m doing my best to help you!” You exclaim placing a pad in front of him.

“Sorry it’s just that my dad isn’t happy already that i totalled a car that was needed for race day” he sighs rubbing his temples.

“Ahhh so you’re an F1 driver. Or is it NASCAR because of the accent?” You ask and he looks shocked as if you were supposed to know who he was.

“Er F1” he offers and you nod.

“You any good?” You ask writing done some more notes as you watch the camera on the government vehicle as Lance’s car didn’t have one.

“Excuse me?” He chokes out and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Well I mean im currently looking at your claims for a super car that you totalled and so I can’t help but ask if your any good” you tease and once he heard the tone he gets it and just rolls his eyes.

“Oh haha laugh it up” he says and you do.

“Im sorry but this is quite possibly the most fun I’ve ever had in this job. It’s rather boring most days so I’m just making the most of it” you smile and he smiles back.

“Okay I can see that they did in fact turn into you. And of course I’m here for the people. The issue is where your Canadian. I can pay out what the car was worth when you originally brought it, but 50,000 for the fact that it was an accident on our part” you say and he thinks for a moment.

“No” is all he says and you look over at him in shock.

“Sorry? What do you mean no, no is my final decision” you say crossing your arms.

“I would like to add something else to the 50,000 on top of the car value” he smiles and you nod, wondering what it could possibly be and admiring the boldness of his statement.

“Id like to take you out to dinner” he smirks and your head shoots up from your laptop.

“I- i cant do that… it’s not professional. I could get told off. I could loose my job.” you admit knowing that if people were to find out about your payout and think it was bad then they’d be asking questions to you.

“Oh come on it’s just dinner to say thank you for being so … helpful” he smiles leaning forward in his seat and you shake your head.

“Fine, dinner it is” you smile.

That was the start of something way bigger than just dinner.

y/user

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y/user: Work has been rather interesting lately 👀🏎️

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lance_stroll: thank you for having another look for me 👍🏼

-> y/user: 🫣you’re welcome Mr Stroll

-> lance_stroll: you’re making me feel old ☹️

user: is that whose car I think it is bestie?

-> y/user: it sure is 🏎️

user: need to catch up soon babe, Pret tomorrow morning?

-> y/user: sure thing!

user: Civil Service < Serving Cu*t 🥰

Instagram Story Caption:

Back in the Office wiv Shiv 🌸

Taglist:

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[akilah12902]

More background props time!

From S1E4, Wilby snooping in Ian's file and realizing 'oh shit why is the info on dependents classified'.

This would suggest the first season of the show takes place in February or early-mid March 2020 (Ian's stated age here and his birthday), but... argh, is the short version. I don't think the weather and the cherry trees match that.

Also I believe his weight is being given in stones and pounds; the total would be 159lbs

(Also that should probably be "fraternal" nephew, not "filial".)

Name>> /// Ian Rider

Date of Birth>> /// 20/03/1977 - Deceased

Age>> /// 42

Place of Birth>> /// London, UK

Gender>> /// Male

Current Address>> /// 42 Collbridge Road, London,SE1 5CC

Alias>> /// N/A

Nationality>> /// British Citizen

Country of Residence>> /// United Kingdom

Occupation>> /// Senior Field Agent (MI6 The Department)

Dependents>> /// 01 Guardian to filial nephew - see separate files

Key Facts>> /// Weight 11ST 5lb /// Height 6'01" (185cm) /// Hair Colour: Dark brown /// Eye Colour: Blue

Like his brother John, Ian went to Oxbridge before joining the parachute regiment where he served successful tours in Afghanistan and Iran. He subsequently progressed onto MI6. During his military career he was awarded a medal for gallantry after saving the life of a wounded soldier whilst under intense enemy fire.

[immaculatasknight]

Nazi narrative control

[msilwrites]

The Mystery of Ghost's Better Half (Simon 'Ghost' Fic)

Gamekeeper! Reader, Groundskeeper! Reader, Ex-MI5! Reader, Stalker! Reader, Naughty! Ghost, Naughty! Simon, Stalker! Reader, Possessive! Reader, Sunshine! Reader, Shy! Reader, Introvert! Reader

A/N: This story features the same Y/N (that’s YOU!!) from How I met your Mother, Midnight Snack Mystery and The Mystery of Who Dressed the LT Like That?

You’ll notice I’ve kept physical descriptions and most of your aesthetic to a minimum—no name, race, or colour—because I want you, the reader, to be able to fully immerse yourself in the story. Imagine it’s you!

That said, I’ve crafted your background and bio to be absolutely awesome. Let’s be real—you deserve to be as amazing as the characters you’re sharing the story with! 💪

For those curious about the timeline, this story takes place WAY before both The Mystery of Who Dressed the LT Like That? and Midnight Snack Mystery. and after How I Met Your Mother. I’ll be putting together a proper timeline for all the chaos soon—stay tuned! Genre: Comedy/Fluff

Summary: Set almost a year into your relationship with Ghost, a casual supermarket run takes an unexpected turn when you bump into Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick—who also happens to be your former subordinate. As stories unfold and secrets unravel, Ghost discovers there's more to your past than you've let on... and you learn he’s been keeping a few surprises of his own. What starts as a mundane errand turns into a hilariously revealing chapter in your lives together. Some Terms to take note of;

RAF: Royal Air Force – The air force branch of the British Armed Forces, responsible for aerial defense and operations.

UAV: Unmanned Aerial Vehicle – A drone or remote-controlled aircraft used for surveillance, reconnaissance, and sometimes combat, without a pilot onboard.

MI5: Military Intelligence, Section 5 – The British domestic counter-intelligence and security agency, primarily focused on national security, including counter-terrorism and espionage.

SAS: Special Air Service – A special forces regiment of the British Army, known for its expertise in counter-terrorism, hostage rescue, and covert operations.

SBS: Special Boat Service – The Royal Navy’s counterpart to the SAS, specializing in amphibious and maritime operations, including counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and hostage rescue. RMP: Royal Military Police – The military police branch of the British Army, responsible for maintaining discipline, investigating crimes within the military, and providing security for military operations.

SRR: Special Reconnaissance Regiment – A special forces regiment of the British Army, specializing in covert reconnaissance, surveillance, and intelligence gathering.

MI6: Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) – The British foreign intelligence service, responsible for collecting intelligence from outside the UK, mainly focusing on espionage, counter-intelligence, and security issues abroad.

SCO19/CTSFO: Specialist Crime and Operations/Counter Terrorism Specialist Firearms Officers – A unit of the Metropolitan Police Service responsible for handling counter-terrorism operations and armed responses to incidents involving firearms or other serious threats.

Case Officer – A role within intelligence agencies, such as MI5 or MI6, where the officer is responsible for managing agents or assets, gathering intelligence, and overseeing operations involving covert operations and surveillance.

----------

The supermarket buzzed with quiet chatter and the soft clatter of carts. Simon pushed their trolley with one hand, the other draped over Y/N’s shoulder. Both wore masks—not because they were hiding from the world but because they were both introverts who preferred to keep their faces to themselves.

“Why do we always look like we’re about to rob the place?” Y/N muttered under her breath, glancing at their reflection in the freezer doors.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Simon replied, his voice dry. “You’d be the worst getaway driver. Too many stops for snacks.”

“Bold words for someone who insisted on two different types of biscuits last week.”

He smirked behind his mask, steering them toward the drinks aisle. “Tea,” he said. “Running low.”

She chuckled softly. “Heaven forbid we face a morning without tea.”

They rounded a corner when a familiar voice stopped them in their tracks.

“LT?”

Simon glanced up sharply to see Kyle Garrick standing a few feet away, looking equal parts amused and bewildered.

“Garrick,” Simon greeted, nodding in acknowledgment.

Kyle closed the distance, clapping Simon’s shoulder in a friendly grip before offering the traditional handshake-bump. “Didn’t think I’d ever catch you out here, sir, in a domesticated way!”

Simon rolled his eyes but let a smirk slip through. “Everyone’s got to eat, mate. Even me.”

Kyle chuckled, but his attention drifted to Y/N, and his expression froze. His eyes widened in disbelief. “No bloody way.”

Y/N blinked, tilting her head. “Kyle?”

“Ma’am!” Kyle’s grin split wide as he snapped a playful salute before pulling her into a hug. “It’s really you!”

Y/N laughed softly, hugging him back. “Look at you, all grown up and out of trouble.”

Simon stood off to the side, arms crossed and brow raised. “Ma’am?” he echoed, his tone skeptical but sharp.

Kyle stepped back from the hug, hands raised as if to placate him. “Relax, LT. Not nicking Mrs Riley.”

“I’m not yet—” Y/N started, only for Simon to cut in.

“She will be,” Simon said matter-of-factly, his voice laced with quiet authority.

Kyle chuckled, shooting Y/N a knowing look. “Fair enough. But seriously, LT, you’ve bagged yourself a legend.” He gestured to Y/N. “This woman was my case officer back when I was just starting out. Pulled me and my team out of more fires than I care to count.”

Y/N winced. “Kyle, don’t.”

But Kyle continued undeterred. “She’s the reason I got placed with the CTSFOs before Price found me. Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am now.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed slightly, the edge in his tone unmistakable. “That so?”

Kyle nodded earnestly. “She didn’t just handle the logistics—she made sure we got in and out in one piece. Always had a knack for knowing when to pull us before things got messy.”

“Kyle,” Y/N interrupted, raising a hand. “Enough. You’re making me sound like a bloody action figure.”

Kyle grinned, sheepish but unapologetic. “Sorry, ma’am.” He turned to Simon, adding, “Go easy on her, LT. She’s earned it. And don’t worry—I won’t tell the lads.”

“Good,” Simon said curtly, his tone clipped but not unkind. “I’ll interrogate her myself. Now, get on with your shopping, Garrick.”

Kyle saluted again, grinning. “Aye, sir.” He turned back to Y/N with a softer look. “We’ll catch up one day, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said with a faint smile. “Take care, Kyle.”

As Kyle walked off, Simon’s amber eyes fixed on her, curiosity and amusement dancing in their depths. “So,” he drawled, “you’re a legend, are you?”

She groaned, pushing the trolley forward. “Don’t start.”

Simon followed, his tone low and teasing. “You’re my Mrs Riley, and yet I’m only hearing this from Garrick? What else are you hiding, love?”

She sighed, glancing over her shoulder. “Plenty.”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “We’ll sort that later. For now, let’s stock up. Wouldn’t want to run out of biscuits again.”

Y/N muttered something under her breath but let him guide the trolley forward, knowing full well that “later” was going to be anything but quiet.

----------

Back at Simon’s house, the rustle of grocery bags filled the quiet kitchen as Y/N started unpacking their haul. Simon leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his amber eyes fixed on her with that signature intensity she found equal parts alluring and irritating.

“So,” he began, voice low and calm, “how exactly do you know Kyle?”

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes as she pulled out a loaf of bread and a jar of honey. “He’s just a kid I looked after, that’s all.”

Simon arched a brow. “Looked after? He was going on about saving lives. Sounds a bit more than babysitting, love.”

She set the bread down and shot him a look. “It’s not worth mentioning. Besides, you never asked.”

His brow shot higher, and a hint of amusement flickered in his gaze. “Never asked, huh?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, focusing on the next bag. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hi, I used to babysit rookie agents and soldiers when they couldn’t keep themselves out of trouble’? Bit of a conversation killer, don’t you think?”

Simon snorted, stepping forward to help as she tried—and failed—to push a box of tea onto the top shelf. His hand brushed hers as he easily slid it into place. “Funny how you leave out that you were apparently some kind of mastermind,” he said, his tone casual but teasing.

She rolled her eyes, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. Then she turned the tables. “I heard Kyle call you ‘LT.’ And since he’s SAS, that means you’re SAS, too, yeah?”

Simon smirked, pulling another bag closer. “And here I thought you knew everything about me.”

“All you told me is you were RAF,” she countered, her arms crossed now. “Are you really going to act smug about not mentioning that detail?”

He set a box of biscuits on the counter and leaned in slightly, his voice dropping an octave. “You never asked. How was I supposed to tell you?”

She snorted, trying to brush past him to grab more groceries, but he moved faster, blocking her path with his broad frame. His eyes glittered with mischief. “Anything else you’ve been keeping from me? Or do I have to wait for Garrick to fill me in again?”

She tilted her head up, glaring playfully. “Oh, I’m sure there’s plenty you don’t know about me.”

“Plenty?” he repeated, feigning surprise. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe,” she teased, pushing at his chest lightly. “You’ll find out eventually—if you’re lucky.”

Simon caught her wrist, his grip firm but gentle, and pulled her closer. The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. “Lucky, am I?”

“You might be,” she replied, her tone breezy but her pulse quickening as his thumb brushed her wrist.

“Guess I’ll have to keep asking then,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble. “Can’t have my Mrs. Riley keeping secrets from me.”

“I’m not—” she started, but he cut her off with a soft kiss, the groceries temporarily forgotten as his teasing turned into something much more serious.

When they broke apart, her breath hitched, and she quipped, “You’re still putting away the rest of those groceries.”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly but not letting her go. “Fair enough. But don’t think you’re off the hook, love. We’ll have another chat about Garrick soon enough.”

“You know, we don’t have to wait until later,” she teased, “might as well start the ‘interrogation’ now.” She raised a brow at him. “But fair’s fair. For every question about me, I get to ask you one. Deal?”

Simon grinned. “Deal.” His voice was steady, but there was an undeniable edge of anticipation as he leaned in, clearly ready for his next round of questioning.

“How do you know Sergeant Garrick?” Simon asked again, now that the gauntlet had been thrown down.

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes flickering briefly to the side before she met his gaze. “I was a Case Officer for MI5,” she began, her voice steady but with a note of something deeper. “I worked with MI6, the SAS, SBS and SCO19/CTSFO. Gaz was stationed in the Middle East during a critical operation. There was a leak within MI6 that affected MI5, and I had to pull his team out at the last minute.” (A/N: Gaz working in the middle east is actually canon material, you can find it in his bio)

Simon didn’t interrupt, his curiosity piqued.

“Garrick was just starting out, but he was good,” she continued. “His team was in real danger. I saved them—kept them from walking into a shitstorm that would’ve cost them their lives.” She paused, her expression clouding slightly, as if remembering the tension of those moments.

“Fuck,” Simon muttered, clearly impressed. “You really didn’t mention any of that.”

She shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You never asked.”

Simon was about to speak again when Y/N raised a finger. “Now, my turn. Is that why you’d disappear for weeks before we got together? You were deployed?”

Simon’s jaw tightened slightly, but his expression remained calm. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, “that’s why.”

Y/N nodded, her lips pursed as she processed that. “I thought so.”

Simon let out a soft breath, the air around them suddenly heavier. “Your turn now. How did you end up in the military?”

Her eyes flickered for a moment before she spoke, the story tumbling out with the quiet weight of years gone by.

“I left home at eighteen,” she said, her voice low but clear. “Got into a bad relationship... ran off again when I realized what a mess I’d gotten into. Ended up in Scotland, working at a distillery as an apprentice brewer.” She sighed, the memory bittersweet. “I was happy, for a while. But then my ex found me. Kept harassing me, threatening everyone around me. I had to leave, for my own safety and everyone else’s.”

She paused for a moment, her gaze distant, before continuing.

“For a while, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had nothing left. But then, one day, I saw a recruitment ad for the RAF. I remembered a colleague I’d worked with at the distillery. He’d always said I had some kind of observational ability that might make me good in the military.” She gave him a dry smile. “I guess I thought, 'why not?' Free food, free place to sleep, and some semblance of security. Plus, they offered sponsored education, which was a bonus. And then there was the therapy—” she hesitated for a moment, her voice softening. “That helped. More than I thought it would. It gave me the space to sort myself out, to stop feeling like I was constantly looking over my shoulder.”

She glanced at Simon, her expression resolute. “I’d had enough of running. Joining the military taught me how to defend myself—and fight back when I needed to.”

Simon’s eyes softened as he listened. She wasn’t finished yet, though.

“I joined the RAF first as an infantry soldier,” she explained, her tone matter-of-fact. “Did a few tours overseas, got some solid experience under my belt, and eventually took an opportunity to upskill as a UAV pilot.” She paused, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as she recounted the progression.

“After that, I transitioned to the RMP and later the SRR. Both roles had me deployed for more tours, sharpening different skill sets along the way,” she continued, her gaze steady. “Eventually, MI5 took notice and recruited me.”

She sighed, leaning back slightly as if the weight of those years momentarily settled on her shoulders. “Stayed there for more than a decade, till they told me to retire. Ran into Kyle during all that, though. Didn’t think I’d see him again, but here we are.”

Simon was quiet for a long moment, processing everything she had just revealed. His eyes never left hers.

“You really know how to keep a secret,” he murmured, clearly impressed—and maybe a little surprised.

“When were you planning to tell me?” he asked after a beat, tilting his head slightly. “Were you ever planning to tell me? Or were you just hoping I’d find and figure it all out?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, crossing her arms with a sigh. “I was just hoping you’d figure it out,” she admitted with a soft laugh, her tone tinged with playful exasperation. “Accept me and my crazy head.” She paused before adding, “To be fair, though, you wouldn’t have believed me even if I told you! I mean, look at me, Simon!” She gestured to herself dramatically, as if presenting a case in court.

Simon’s lips twitched into a sly grin, his gaze sweeping over her as he let out a low chuckle. “Alright, you’ve got a point,” he admitted, amusement lacing his voice. “Small, unassuming, and, dare I say it, bloody adorable. Not exactly what springs to mind when you think of MI5, yeah?”

Her jaw dropped slightly, though her grin remained firmly in place. “Excuse me? Did you just—”

He stepped closer, cutting her off with a laugh. “It’s a compliment,” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But yeah, unless someone like Kyle spilled the beans, I’d probably still be clueless.”

Simon closed the distance between them, his smirk softening as he looked at her. “Oh, and since I did find and figure it out,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, “let me just say—your ‘crazy head’ might actually be my favorite thing about you.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a firm embrace. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, the faint scratch of his stubble brushing against her skin and drawing another burst of laughter.

“Simon, that tickles!” she protested, trying to squirm away, but his grip only tightened.

“Good,” he murmured into her hair, his deep chuckle vibrating against her cheek.

As the laughter subsided, she tilted her head, her expression suddenly thoughtful. “Alright, my turn,” she began, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “Why didn’t you ever mention you were in the SAS?”

Simon’s grip loosened just enough for him to lean back and meet her gaze. His expression shifted, the humour giving way to something more serious. “It’s not exactly something you drop into casual conversation,” he replied. “Most of it’s classified, anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking in amusement. “Oh, so it’s alright for you to keep secrets, but when I do it, it’s a problem?”

Simon let out a low chuckle, conceding with a nod. “Touché.”

But then his gaze softened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Truth is… I was afraid.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Afraid of what?”

“That you might run off,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “If you knew I was SAS, I thought… I thought you might see the risks, the danger, and decide it wasn’t worth it. And I wanted you too much to risk losing you like that.”

Her brows knit together, her expression softening, but before she could speak, he continued.

“And then there was the other fear,” he added, glancing away briefly. “That you might… I don’t know… only be with me because of what I do. You know how it goes—there’s always someone sniffing around, looking for the ‘glamour’ of it, wanting to brag about dating a ‘hero’ or whatever rubbish they’ve built up in their heads.” His tone held a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “Didn’t want to be someone’s bloody trophy.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

Simon frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, Simon,” she said between giggles, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re telling me that was your big worry? That I’d only be with you because of your job?” She grinned, giving him a playful jab to the chest. “Mate, I dated you because you’re hot. And, let’s be honest…” She leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I couldn’t resist the free show you were giving me at the reserve.”

Simon’s brows rose, a sly smirk creeping onto his face. “Free show, eh? So you’re finally admitting it? All that time you denied it, called me full of myself—and here we are. Caught you, you cheeky little bird.”

“You, lugging those sacks around, all sweaty and brooding?” She waggled her eyebrows at him, her grin downright wicked. “Honestly, Simon, who needs an OnlyFans subscription to some bloke when I could just hide behind a tree at the reserve and watch the free show? I might’ve been pretending to work, but really, I was just enjoying the live performance.” She gave him a cheeky shrug. “So don’t get it twisted, mate—I’m only here ‘cause I fancied you.”

Simon let out a bark of laughter, his initial frown dissolving completely. “You’re an absolute menace,” he said, shaking his head as he pulled her into his arms. “But I guess it’s a good thing I was giving you a free show, eh? Saved you from wasting good money on some bloke online who charges for access.” His smirk turned downright wicked as he added, “Though now that I think about it, I probably should’ve started charging you admission—could’ve made a tidy profit. Maybe even a subscription service, just for you.”

“And what’s your mode of payment, then?” she asked, her tone dripping with mock curiosity, eyes gleaming mischievously.

Simon raised a brow, his lips curling into a sly grin. “Oh, I think you know,” he teased, his voice low and playful. “This show is exclusive to you, love. No one else gets the ‘personal, one-on-one access.’” He leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “As for payment? A bit of affection, maybe. A kiss here and there. And, of course, the occasional batch of those baked goods you make. Can’t say no to those.”

She didn’t hesitate. With a gleeful laugh, she jumped on him, her legs wrapping around his waist as his strong arms instinctively caught her, hands gripping her thighs to hold her securely. She grinned wickedly, leaning in close and playfully nipping at his jawline.

“Rawr, rawr!” she growled, nipping and biting at his cheek with exaggerated ferocity. “Good! Because you’re all mine!”

Simon barked out a laugh, his hold tightening as he steadied her against him. “You’re mental,” he teased, his voice filled with warmth and amusement. “Utterly bonkers, but yeah... all yours.”

Her triumphant giggle filled the room as she adjusted her arms around his shoulders, leaning back just enough to meet his eyes.

Simon’s smirk softened, his gaze steady on hers. “You’re trouble, y’know that? The kind that sneaks in and takes over before you even realize it.”

“Trouble?” she echoed with a playful scoff, tilting her head. “You love it. Admit it.”

“Maybe I do,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. “Maybe it’s the kind of trouble I’ve been needing.”

Her grin turned victorious as she tightened her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself closer. “Good, because you’re stuck with me. No take-backs, no loopholes, and absolutely no chance of escape. You’ve been claimed, Riley.” She gave him a mock-serious glare, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I’ll make sure you’re glad for it.”

Simon chuckled softly, shaking his head as he gazed at her. “You’re completely off your trolley,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

What Simon didn’t realize, though, was that he’d only scratched the surface of who he’d fallen for. Sure, she’d hinted at her “crazy head” and shared just enough to keep him on his toes, but the full truth? That was a different story. As he was soon to find out, being with her wasn’t just about late-night tea debates and cheeky banter—it came with a side of secrets, surprises, and the occasional “how in the hell did you even know that?” moment. Poor bloke thought he’d seen it all. Spoiler: He hadn’t.

A/N Please Read: Hi, everyone! The inspiration for the character bio of You (Y/N) actually comes from Nathan Muir in the film Spy Game and Charles Heller from the book The Amateur (soon to have a film adaptation starring Rami Malek!). I chose these influences because of their unconventional approach to operations, leaning heavily into psychological warfare and intricate strategizing. I found it fascinating that I couldn’t resist putting it into Y/N’s backstory.

As for the next part of this story in chronological order, it’s actually The Mystery of Who Dressed the LT Like That. However, these stories can stand alone if that’s how you prefer to read them! For those who want to follow the timeline, I’ll include a “Next Part” link below to guide you.

Hope you enjoyed this one! Cheers! 💀✨

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