Kyle Garrick. Gaz, to most, for whatever reason. You never truly understood the callsign yourself. But, did you really need to understand it to like the alpha?

You didn't really care for his military achievements. To you, he was just the perfect alpha. Strong and nice, somewhere between soft spoken and blunt, and always careful when he helped you.

Except, well, Kyle wasn't looking for a mate. As a sergeant, he wanted to climb rank, be at least a lieutenant before he even thought about settling in and bonding. So when you started to prove your worth to him, Kyle got a bit stand off-ish.

"We're talking about breakfast, coffee, lunch, she's even come in here to start tidying things." Kyle grumbled to the other sergeant, Soap, "Leaves her scent around here like it's where she belongs. She came in here just yesterday because she smelled how tense I was and started giving me a massage!"

Soap chuckled, "You're whinging about a massage?"

"Bloody-" Kyle growled, nearly ripping his hair out, "No! I'm not interested in having a mate and she's always bloody there! Doing something to prove she's mate material!"