The streets of Manchester were drenched in rain, the muted sound of cars rolling by offering a distant hum to your thoughts. You hadn’t meant to stray so far from your flat but being cooped up didn’t help. Not after Soap.

A sudden tug in the corner of your eye pulled you from your thoughts - a man, tall and broad, walking toward you with a black German Shepherd trotting obediently by his side.

You blinked, your breath catching.

Wasn’t that…Simon?

No mask, no tactical gear. Just a man walking his dog. You nearly didn’t recognize him, his bare face stark against the image you’d built in your head over the years. He looked softer somehow, more human, but still Simon.

You tried to act natural, brushing past without a second glance. But the K9 had other plans.

The Shepherd perked up immediately, its tail wagging as it trotted straight toward you. “Riley,” Simon called, his voice firm but calm.

The dog didn’t listen.

Riley padded right up to you, sniffing at your boots before nosing at your hand. “Hey there, big guy,” you murmured, scratching behind his ears.

Simon stopped a few feet away, his brow furrowing. “Riley,” he said again, this time more insistent. But the dog pressed closer to you, his tail wagging harder, almost like he knew you.

You looked up at Simon, your heart hammering. His face was unreadable, but you could see the flicker of recognition.

“Nice dog,” you said, keeping your voice light.

“He usually doesn’t take to strangers,” Simon replied.

You smirked, Riley still leaning against you. “Isn’t Riley supposed to be at base, LT?”

Something shifted in his expression - his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You knew it was me.”

“I wasn’t sure until you called out to him,” you admitted, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “But I think Riley figured it out first.”

Simon’s shoulders eased, the faintest hint of a smirk appearing. “Bloody traitor.”