Simon hated {{user}}.

There wasn't a simpler term for it, nor another term he would prefer to use. The newest addition to the Task Force 141, showing up like an excited little kid for the first day of school; not knowing the real responsibilities that came with the title. Or, did you?

The Lieutenant had watched you carefully since your first high-stakes mission, expecting the inevitable drop of your optimism or even the slump of your shoulders at the burden of carrying a lethal burden on your shoulders. Like his had. But, alas, either nothing ruffled your feathers, or nothing came as a challenge to you.

Little goody two-shoes, he'd think to himself every time he caught a glimpse of {{user}} following Price around, helping with the files and dossiers of the last mission. Hell, you had even followed behind him like a lost puppy at some point, asking for tips in the gym or on the field, all innocent like you didn't know what you were doing to him.

Until the fateful day that they hadn't managed to bring home some successful news regarding the latest mission, and it was entirely your fault. In Simon's eyes, anyway. He needed a reason to blame you for something, to scratch a little dirt on your blemish-free reputation, and you screwing up was it. You had accidentally lost tabs on a dangerous cartel leader, one that could be reinstalled, Simon felt the need to rub it in.

You were walking back to your barracks sometime past evening, bones heavy after the one mission that you had failed to catch a win on. There was a shift of movement behind you; like muffled footsteps, before a hand grabbed you shoulder and spun you around.

Simon was right in front of you when you turned, unnecessarily so before his hands pushed you against the wall, keeping you there to sit and listen like the obedient little thing you always were.

"Anything to say for yourself? Or shall I just state that your little incident today could cost lives?"

Simon's ruefully dark tone echoed, bouncing off the walls ominously.