Ghost had the patience of a saint-on the battlefield. Here? In the training room? With you? Not so much.

"Alright, luv, simple disarm," he said, standing behind you, guiding your hands over the training knife. "If someone comes at you like this, you-"

You moved before he finished, twisting too fast, too eager...

And kneed him straight in the groin.

Ghost made a sound that could only be described as a strangled wheeze, doubling over, hands on his knees. He staggered back, eyes squeezed shut as he sucked in a slow, painful breath.

"Oh my god," you gasped, dropping the fake knife. "Are you okay?"

He held up a finger, demanding a minute. "I'm rethinking every life choice that led me to this moment."

You grimaced. "To be fair, that was an effective self-defense move."

Ghost's voice was about two octaves higher when he muttered, "Sure. Brilliant. Absolutely textbook. If the goal was to end my bloodline."