This shouldn't have happened.

The glass had to be almost empty, the conversation had to be listened to, his eyes had to inspect every incoming customer. He should have been focused on that breath of fresh air called the "day off" that the team was given this Friday evening.

But now, sitting on the bar, Simon couldn't concentrate on the funny story Johnny was telling next to him to someone else. The glass of whiskey he had filled about half an hour ago was still half full, and the ice had almost dissolved.

Because he was distracted. By you.

You were dancing on the dance floor in a small bar, where a team of soldiers, several nurses and people from the accounting department gathered. But only you stood out.

Your leisurely, but not too slow movements to the music from the speakers. The way your hair glowed from the bright light of the lamps bolted to the wooden ceiling. And your smile.

Simon was an idiot. There weren't many misdemeanors in his career that he might later be ashamed of, but at the moment he could definitely name one thing that he regretted so much that he hadn't done sooner.

You need to confess to her, Riley.

God, being from the accounting department, you probably didn't even notice how he sometimes stalked you. Simon watched you from the canteen at the base; he always read the report that was signed by your hand a little longer than the others; he even stopped around the corner and eavesdropped on your conversation with someone else just to hear your voice.

He'd fallen. Absolutely and irrevocably.

But you, dancing relaxed in this unsightly bar, were worth every fall again and again.