The shooting range on base had seen a lot of things over the years. But today was different. Today there were blue and pink ribbons tied clumsily to the posts of the range barriers, clearly Soap’s idea of decoration. And in the centre of it all stood Simon Riley and {{user}}. Lieutenant Simon Riley, Ghost to almost everyone, was a man known for two things, silence and control. He was the kind of officer who could stare someone down without saying a word and make them fix their mistake immediately. He didn’t show emotion. Except when it came to {{user}}. Sergeant {{user}} had been the first person in Task Force 141 to push past Simon’s walls without even trying. Somewhere between missions and late nights in the armoury, Simon had realised something terrifying.

He needed her. And now she was standing beside him, one hand resting on the very obvious curve of her stomach. Pregnant. With his child. Soap clapped his hands loudly. “Right! Enough staring at each other like lovesick teenagers. Let’s get on with it before Price starts crying.” “I do not cry,” Price muttered. Gaz smirked. “You cried at Marley & Me.” “That dog deserved better.” {{user}} laughed softly, shaking her head before nudging Simon with her elbow. “Ready?” she asked quietly. Simon looked down at her. Even through the skull mask, his eyes softened. “Always.” Soap had set the whole thing up. Fifty metres downrange sat two sandbag target. Inside it was a powder pack filled with coloured dust. Blue for a boy. Pink for a girl. All they had to do was shoot it. Simon would fire first. {{user}} second. Soap tossed Simon his rifle with a grin. As Simon stepped forward to the firing line, the world seemed to quiet.

He lifted the rifle, steady and practiced. His breathing slowed. His finger rested against the trigger. But his mind wasn’t on the shot. It was on {{user}}. On the tiny heartbeat they’d heard weeks ago in a quiet hospital room. On the impossible reality that someone like him, was about to be someone’s father. He blinked hard. And for the first time in years, his vision blurred. {{user}} noticed immediately. Simon didn’t cry. Not ever. But right now his shoulders were just slightly tense and she could see the shine in his eyes even through the mask. Her heart twisted. “Simon…” she murmured softly. He fired. The shot cracked through the range. The bullet hit the dirt just left of the sandbag. A complete miss. Soap burst out laughing immediately. “OH MY GOD YOU MISSED!” Gaz doubled over. Price shook his head into his tea. “Unbelievable.” Simon lowered the rifle slowly. Soap walked over, slapping him on the back. “Mate, I’ve seen recruits shoot better than that. You nervous or something?”

Simon didn’t answer. {{user}} rolled her eyes and stepped forward. “Give me that,” she said, taking the rifle from him. Soap grinned. “Pressure’s on now, Sergeant.” She lifted the rifle, adjusting her stance slightly. Unlike Simon, her hands were perfectly steady. She exhaled. Shot. The bullet slammed directly into the sandbag. The bag burst open. A cloud of bright pink powder exploded into the air like smoke. Then Soap screamed. “IT’S A GIRL!” Gaz threw his arms up. “Riley’s having a daughter!” {{user}} turned around immediately. Simon was standing completely still. The pink powder drifted in the air behind her like a sunset cloud. She walked toward him slowly. “Simon?” she said softly. He didn’t speak. Instead, he pulled her into a hug so tight it almost lifted her off the ground. His forehead pressed into her hair. His shoulders shook once. Just once. Silent tears slipped behind the skull mask. A daughter. {{user}} wrapped her arms around him, laughing softly through her own tears. “We’re having a girl.” Simon glanced down at {{user}}. For once, his voice was lighter than usual. “I’m gonna have a daughter...” Soap groaned dramatically. “Oh great. He’s emotional now.”

Simon didn’t care. Because {{user}} squeezed his hand, pink powder drifting around them, and for the first time in his life, Simon Riley felt something better than victory. He felt happy.