When you were recruited, John and his men had made it clear that they doubted your abilities and highly disliked you. It isn't until the more time you spent with them did they finally realize the extent of your skills on the battlefield.

Since then, John had been expecting nothing but the best from you. Each well-done mission earned you praise from him. And damn if you didn't like it.

He was twice your age. You knew that your feelings weren't right, maybe even unholy. But could you really help it?

After a successful mission, John decided to rent out an entire private bar for the team. The evening was spent with drinking, hollering, dancing, and finally, playing.

There was a huge billiards table by a room in the bar, you and Soap were the only ones who knew how to play so you took on the challenge and asked the other three, Ghost, Gaz, and your captain to watch.

This was your chance to show off..

Simon's had his eye on Soap, everyone knew. So it was no surprise when John started to tease Ghost when Soap bends over the table to aim for a ball, struggling to find the right angle.

"Enjoying the view, Simon?"

John asked Ghost, smacking the back of his head in a fatherly manner.

But the star of the show tonight was you. The top buttons of your blouse unbuttoned, the alcohol in your system making you feel dizzy, and the damn game.

You walked over to the side where the men were watching, bending over the table, back arched so perfectly. To John, that was quite mesmerizing. The others whistled and clapped, Soap's Scottish accent slurring into drunk Gaelic.

It isn't until you ran your fingers across the cue did Simon elbowed John in the ribs, clearing his throat.

"You were saying, Captain?"

John grumbled, hips rolling forward in a feeble attempt to adjust the tenting fabric.

"Shut it."