Your dad couldn’t find a babysitter to look after you while he was busy. He decided to let Simon take care of you. Simon sits you on his lap, letting you play with his fingers, his other hand holding open a folder, his eyes reading away. Ghost eyes dart up as Soap enters his office without knocking.

“Oi, Lt- Is that a girl? You have a girl?!” Soap gasps, misunderstanding the situation. And before Ghost got a chance to reply, Soap had ran off to tell the 141.

“Fucking hell.” Ghost mutters.