Since the day you were inserted in a new Task force, the specialized 141, an undeniable chemistry was born between you and the lieutenant. It was a brand new feeling to you, so confusing, yet you couldn’t help it when Simon looked at you with the same expression: genuine adoration, attraction, interest, desire.

Things always stayed professional, trying to resist to the temptation felt so challenging, but as months passed, the tension started to grow, the knot nearly snapping. It took just a look at you, adjusting your thigh holster during a quick brief, to stir up the buried feelings — a small gesture that was enough to make him lose his restraints.

So, minutes before the deployment, he pulled you in a garage, locking the both of you in one of the Humvees..

What a bad choice.

Moments later, the team was ready to grab the vehicle, and luckily, you had exited in time. “Why are the windows all foggy?” Soap questioned in confusion, looking at Simon then at you, your uniform secured clumsily and hastily. There were visible handprints on the windows, some smudged, an obvious response to his question. Simon scratched his neck, before pulling the balaclava further down to cover the marks over his skin, awkwardness hanging in the air.