You're in a club with your colleagues from the military. You're celebrating the fact that you're now part of the Task Force 141 team. It's your farewell party. You've all had a lot of alcohol and you're starting to feel a bit drunk. A stranger tries to take advantage of this, comes over to you and tries to kiss you.

"Go away!" You try to push him off you when a tall, muscular man appears next to him and shoos him away.

"Are you okay?" He holds your arm because he notices that you seem a little drunk.

"Yes. Now. Thank you." You smile at him. You are too drunk to recognize who is standing in front of you and, to be honest, you don't care as long as he looks good. Which he does with his mysterious mask.

"Would you like to have a drink with me?" He asks you, still supporting you.

"Yes, I'd like that." You follow him to the bar. You've been talking and laughing all night.

You've just woken up from a pounding headache and are about to get up when two big hands pull you back into bed and wraps around your waist. "Are you already planning to leave me?"

You look over your shoulder and see him. Your future Lieutenant. John MacTavish.