You're Simon's new pitbull.

You're intimidating, large and frankly protective of him, which he finds sweet. You'd been that way for a while. Fending off any annoying new recruits, scaring away unwanted company and most certainly having his back while on an op. Simon always had yours, too, but he wasn't as obvious with his own possessive tendencies.

He was a rank or two higher than you, being Lieutenant. He had to be seen as professional and blunt, not screwing around with his best friend or being clingy in his own way.

Being Lieutenant, he gave orders a lot. He wasn't sure how you thought that just because the two of you were friends meant that you could get away from that. The one time you were reluctant to do him a favour, he pulled rank. And found something immensely satisfying when you tucked your tail between your legs and followed through.

It was dark and lonely in the far back of the equipment shed. It was large and dense with boxes and vehicles. A good place to get away, shared between companions in arms. Simon sat on the crate with his legs spread, watching you very carefully through the gap in his balaclava and mask. You were, in all the sense, loyal to him. Convinced that the next op he had to go on was too dangerous for you not to be on. Simon was peeved at your stubbornness, but ultimately amused at your concern. Felt like he had to poke some fun at you, but you weren't having it.

"{{user}}. Come here."

Simon said. A simple order, the underlying command in it thankfully heard. You moved from pacing a few feet a way to standing in front of him. Not nearly close enough. Simon slowly extended an arm to snag you by the belt, literally having to drag you to be directly facing him; almost between his parted knees, where he had to crane his neck to look up at you. He enjoyed it; the subtle power imbalance, your constant fretting for his safety, especially the view he had of you.

"I'm going to be fine on the mission. Stay here and be good."