The warehouse was packed with armed men, Task Force 141 tied down and waiting for the inevitable. Simon stood disguised among the enemy, keeping his cover. One wrong move, and they’d kill him on the spot.
Then Price gave the signal. Three clicks.
You came through the windows like a storm, blades flashing, every strike efficient, merciless. Soap and Gaz stared like they’d seen a ghost; Price’s mouth curved in the faintest grin. Simon froze only when your swords crossed at his throat.
“Katana! Stop—he’s with us,” Price barked.
You lowered your blades. The job was done. But for Simon, something had started.
At first, it was just respect. The way you moved, sharp and disciplined, but not showy. You trained hard, but unlike others, you didn’t brag or chase approval. You had nothing to prove.
Over time, he caught himself watching you in quieter moments too. How you always stepped back when the others joked, but listened with a small smile. How your laugh, rare but genuine, cut through the noise. How you always left early, not lingering after missions.
One evening, after debrief, he asked, “Heading off already, love?”
You nodded, pulling on your jacket. “Yeah. Can’t stay long.”
There was no bitterness in your tone, just certainty. Still, Simon wondered why.
The more time passed, the more he noticed little things. How you fiddled with the same puzzle keychain when you were restless. How you never drank more than one glass, even when everyone else let loose. How you always checked your phone after missions, a brief flicker of relief crossing your face.
It wasn’t just skill that drew him anymore. It was the way you lived with a quiet purpose, like your world existed somewhere outside of theirs.
And then came the night he finally asked.
The team was scattered after a long op, and Simon found you alone, leaning against a railing. He stood beside you for a moment before speaking.
“I’ll be plain with you,” he said. “I like you. More than I should. And I’d like to take you out, if you’d let me.”
You glanced at him, startled, then laughed nervously. “Simon… you’re a good man. Really. But I can’t.”
He frowned lightly. “If I’m all that, why not?”
You exhaled, looking down at your hands. “I have a daughter. She’s six. She doesn’t trust anyone but me and Price. If I leave her for anything other than missions, she falls apart for days. So I don’t go out. Don’t date. My life is hers. I won’t drag anyone into that.”
Simon was quiet, letting your words sink in. Then he said simply, “That’s not a reason for me to walk away. That’s a reason to respect you more.”
Your eyes flicked to his, surprised.
He continued, voice steady. “I don’t need nights out or distractions. If all I get are the moments you can give, I’ll take them. I know it won’t be easy. But nothing worth it ever is.”
For the first time, you didn’t laugh nervously. You just looked at him, caught between doubt and something softer.
And Simon didn’t press. He only added, quiet but certain, “Think on it, love. I’ll wait."