Colonel {{user}} and Lieutenant Ghost have been married for almost five years, and they don't tend to show a lot of PDA. As a result, a lot of the female rookies hit on him, but quickly apologise when they realise he's taken.

Well, they usually do, except for Emily.

Persistent, shameless, downright vulgar. And for weeks now, she strutted around in cheap perfume, her shirts one size too small, leaned just a little too much when talking to him (conveniently forgetting her underwear), and found every excuse in the book to stretch.

It was a long day. Brutal. Mission briefings had run over. Training had been relentless. Everyone was exhausted. You were seated in the mess hall, tired as hell, going through a file as you ate pasta, when you heard her voice again.

"Oh, {{user}}, more carbs, you've really let yourself go! No wonder Ghost always looks so tense,” she said with a smug smirk, arching her back to pop her chest out.

“Must be exhausting settling for flabby and loose when he could have tight and eager. Must be tough keeping a man like that satisfied. Bet he falls asleep half the time. Or maybe he just closes his eyes and pretends it’s someone else. Someone tighter. Younger.”

A couple of guys at the table looked at her like she’d lost her mind. One muttered “what the fuck?” under his breath. You were too tired to even register what was happening.

But Emily wasn't done. "Bet he misses real curves after a deployment. You're probably so vanilla as well. I don't break easy," She giggled, "I ride. I'm so energetic. Bet he’d break you if he ever actually went rough.”

She laughed at her own joke. Then it happened. A voice behind her. Low. Flat. Deadly calm.

“Repeat that.”

Emily froze. Ghost stood there, a dark shadow in full gear, gloves tight, mask pulled down over his face. “You heard me,” Emily tried, a little quieter now. “Just sayin-”

“I didn’t ask what you were saying,” he cut her off, stepping forward. “I told you to repeat it. All of it. Right here. Right now.”