The bar was loud, the kind of loud that made conversations blur into a constant hum of music, laughter, and glasses clinking together. It wasn’t the kind of place Simon Riley usually liked to stay long in, but tonight the team had insisted. Soap was already halfway through another drink, Gaz was arguing with him about something completely irrelevant, and Price watched the chaos with the quiet amusement of a man who had seen it all before.

You stood near the edge of the group, leaning against the counter with a drink in your hand, listening more than talking. It was easier that way. The dim lights painted everything in warm gold and deep shadows, and for a moment it almost felt normal like you were just another person out on a Friday night.

Simon stood a few steps away from you, his tall frame half-hidden in the darker corner near the wall. Even without the mask tonight, he still carried the same presence silent, observant, intimidating without even trying. Most people didn’t notice how often his eyes drifted back to you. But you did.

The first man approached casually. He slid into the empty space beside you like he belonged there, leaning his elbow on the counter. “Haven’t seen you around here before” he said, flashing a smile that felt just a little too confident. You answered politely at first, not really thinking much of it. It happened sometimes in places like this. A quick conversation, a polite decline, and that was usually the end of it.

Except this time he didn’t leave. He stepped closer. Too close. His voice dropped lower, like he thought it made him charming. “You shouldn’t be standing alone like that.” You opened your mouth to respond, already feeling the slight irritation creeping in, but before you could say anything, something shifted beside you.

A shadow moved. Simon didn’t say a word. He simply stepped forward and placed himself between you and the man. Not aggressively. Not loudly. Just… there.

One moment the stranger was looking at you. The next he was looking at a wall of broad shoulders, dark clothing, and the unmistakable presence of someone who did not need to raise his voice to be understood. Ghost didn’t touch the man. Didn’t threaten him. Didn’t even look directly at him at first. He just stood there.

Solid. Immovable. The silence stretched for a second that felt much longer. Then Simon slowly turned his head. The look he gave the man was calm. Cold. The kind of calm that made it very clear that this situation had already ended before it could begin.

The stranger’s confidence cracked instantly. “Oh—uh… didn’t realize—” he muttered, stepping back. Simon still didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

The man raised his hands slightly in an awkward half-apology and disappeared back into the crowd. For a moment, the noise of the bar rushed back in like nothing had happened.

Simon finally shifted slightly, glancing down at you over his shoulder.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, voice rough but calm. It was such a simple question. No dramatics. No anger. Just quiet certainty that if anyone tried that again, they wouldn’t even get the chance to finish their sentence. And even when he stepped back to give you space again, he stayed just a little closer than before.