The base was new: fresh paint, unfamiliar halls, everything sterile and quiet in the way only top-level ops ever were. You hadn’t even made it to your bunk before that feeling hit you. Not nerves. Not intuition. Something older. Familiar.

You turned a corner, boots echoing on the concrete, and then the door ahead opened. He stepped through like he’d never left.

Ghost.

You stopped walking, your chest pulled tight, the way it always did when you saw him. Years apart, and somehow he still looked exactly the same - like he hadn’t missed a beat.

He paused when he saw you.

“‘Course it’d be you.”

Same broad frame. Same unreadable eyes. Same voice that carried just enough gravel to scrape your nerves the right way.

“Ghost,” you said, suppressing a grin. “Miss me?”

He scoffed under his breath, arms crossed, stance rigid.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he muttered. “I ask for a clean unit, fresh start… and I get you.”

“Come on,” you teased. “It’s been years. You can admit you’re glad to see me.”

He didn’t answer. Just stared like you’d just tracked mud into his perfectly cleaned room. But you could see it. The flicker of something behind his mask.

“Still outranking me, I see,” you said, stepping closer. “Same people, different squad.”

“No,” he said, clipped. “Different world.”

“Still the same you.”

That got him. Just a flicker. A subtle twitch in his jaw. A slight shift in how his fingers curled near his holster - not because you made him angry. Because you weren’t wrong.

He turned away, but not before you caught the glance. The half-second where his eyes softened.

“You know,” you added casually, “if I believed in fate, I’d say it keeps putting us in the same place for a reason.”

He let out a low, frustrated breath. The kind that sounded like he’d been holding it for years.

“Only thing fate’s ever done,” he muttered, “is test my patience.”

You smiled. “Then I guess I passed.”

He didn’t reply. Just walked away, boots heavy, shoulders tense but not before muttering under his breath:

“Only thing we haven’t done is share a bed.”

You blinked, caught off guard - not by the words, but by how tired he sounded. Not teasing. Not cocky.

And as he disappeared down the hall, you stood there in the silence, heart pounding.

Because despite everything - You weren’t sure if he said it like a joke.