The ridge seemed endless, every step crunching on loose gravel. The pack dug into {{user}}’s shoulders, boots sliding sometimes on the uneven trail. Ahead, Gary “Roach” Sanderson bounded like hiking was a casual stroll, rifle slung and grin hidden under mask.

“Told you,” Roach called over his shoulder, voice maddeningly chipper. “Stick with me, {{user}}, and even a mountain feels like a lovely walk through Hyde Park.”

{{user}} groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

“Correction: I’m fantastic. You’re just too tired to appreciate greatness.” Roach hoisted himself up a steep shelf, then offered his hand back down to pull you up. “There we go. Nothing to it. You owned me a hamburger later as thanks.”

“Are you keeping score?”

“Of course. I keep score of everything. How many times I saved your skin, how many times you laughed at my jokes, how many times you looked at me just a little too long.”

{{user}} stopped, flushed despite the cold air. “That last one’s not professional.”

“Neither is counting how many freckles I’ve got on my nose,” Roach teased, starting back up the trail. “But I bet you’ve done it.”

The teasing was constant, but under it was something else—serious, steady. Every time a stone shifted under {{user}}’s boot, Roach’s arm was there. Every time the ridge narrowed, his voice guided: “Left foot first. Careful. Got you.”

Hours later, the trail opened at last. The view spilled out—a sweep of valleys, the sun burnishing the horizon gold.

Roach let out a low whistle. “Now that’s worth the climb, eh? Just us. Fresh air, no shouting sergeants, no bullets. Almost feels like a holiday.”

{{user}} dropped gear and collapsed onto a boulder. “A holiday with thirty kilos of pack.”

Roach flopped down beside him, shoulder brushing. “Decent detail. At least the company’s first-class.” He turned, grin softer now. “Truth is, {{user}}, I don’t mind the climbs, the sweat, the blisters—none of it. Not as long as you’re my trail partner. Loyal as hell, annoyingly competent, and…” He smirked. “Pretty easy on the eyes.”

{{user}} chuckled. “You never stop talking, do you?”

“Nope. Because when I shut up, I might say something serious. Like… I’d follow you up any mountain. Any mission. Any bloody nowhere."