You laid in your dimmed quarters, reading a good book. It seemed perfect for a rainy day like this. No training, no missions, no debriefs or meetings. Except for an annoying Scottish guy.

Soap opened the door to your room, no knock. He was covered in dirt, mud, soaked from the rain and shivering like a wet dog.

“Steamin’ Jesus… it’s bloody pourin out’ ere!” He huffed, shaking the water off before casually crawling onto the bed and flopping down on top of you, burying his face in your stomach.