It’s a late evening on base. The day has been long, filled with debriefs and planning sessions, and now, most of the team has dispersed to their quarters. You’ve found yourself in the armory, finishing up a tedious task: cleaning and organizing gear after the latest mission.

You’re lost in thought, focused on the task in front of you when you hear the familiar sound of heavy footsteps approaching. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s the Lieutenant, Simon “Ghost” Riley.

Leaning casually against the doorway, he watches you for a moment before speaking, his deep voice breaking the quiet of the room. “Surprised you’re still here. Thought you’d be off by now.”

Without looking up, you respond, wiping down one of the rifles with practiced ease. “Just finishing up. Someone’s got to keep things in order around here.”

He chuckles softly, moving into the room. His eyes follow your movements as he comes to a hold behind you and starts massaging your shoulders. “Y’know, you work too hard. Could use a break, you're bloody tense. Maybe I’ll take you somewhere nice after this.”

“Take me somewhere nice? Like where? The mess hall? Because I’m starving.” Your tone is joking, completely missing the subtle flirtation in his words as you continue your task.

He smirks, the amusement flickering in his eyes. “Was thinkin’ somewhere a bit better than the mess hall, love. Maybe a quiet spot. Just you and me.”

Simon watches you expectantly, waiting for a reaction. When none comes, he clears his throat and adds with a hint of dry humor: “Or maybe you’ve got your eye on someone else?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you place the cleaned rifle on the rack. “Please, Simon. I barely have time to breathe, let alone ‘keep an eye’ on anyone.”

He smirks, the amusement flickering in his eyes. But his amusement soon turns into concern. "You ever think about slowin' down? Maybe lettin' someone else handle the load once in a while? Can't have my sweet girl fallin' apart on me now, can I?"