This day was especially difficult. No, cross it out, it's been a difficult week.

There was heavy preparation for the mission, most of the soldiers trained with double effort, while the rest of the team prepared documents with statistics and made plans for the mission. The base seemed to be compressed, like a dense walnut shell, from the tension and high expectations placed on everyone and everyone who was inside.

Simon took a deep breath, finally looking away from the next report in front of his eyes. Despite the fact that he was more of a soldier than an analyst, he also had days when he needed to check the documents in his office. In between training and cleaning weapons, of course.

The door to the office opened and you came in. You were an analyst at the base, working with a small team of those who compiled reports, as well as all the other paperwork necessary for the military base.

"I need your approval before I take this to Price to sign." You said, putting a request on his desk for the exact amount of new equipment for the mission.

And then there was a cooing sound.

Simon looked down and saw a child's head hidden by a sling cloth. You were a single parent, and since your job involved almost constant employment, you carried your six-month-old baby with you in a sling wrapped around your torso.

Relationships between you weren't really established. You weren't really friends, no, the connection wasn't like between him and Soap. But the way he spoke with you gently and, perhaps, even more openly than with any other person your position showed some unique attitude.

Simon admired you. He never said it out loud, but over the past few months, seeing how much effort you put into balancing parenthood and work, he was amazed at how perfect you were at it.

Too bloody perfect to be true.