The morning sun hit MacTavish right in his face startling him awake. He blinked a few times trying to orientate himself noticing that he was not in his room. He felt a slight pressure on his chest and looked down. A delicate hand was resting on him.
To his side, Reynolds's face was half buried in the pillow and the other half covered by her hair. The bed sheets were barely covering her lower part of the body, her curves on full display. Trying not to get distracted, he gently picked up her hand, kissed her palm, and placed it to the side. He grabbed the sheets and slid them over her body, covering her.
He grabbed his clothes and tiptoed out of the room as though he was a thief trying to avoid being caught.
Reynolds could feel the other side of the bed empty. She got up looking around her noticing that MacTavish was gone.
She decided to take a shower and get some breakfast as her stomach was growling. Her body was still functioning on the sandwich and a packet of crackers from the day before. The men were supposed to arrive that morning, so she hurried up. At least she will have a peaceful breakfast.
In the rec room, a lovely smell was coming from the kitchen. Confused, she cautiously stepped inside and saw MacTavish plating up some eggs, bacon, and toast. His face lit up as she leaned against the counter. He placed the plate in front of her and gently kissed her cheek.
"Good morning."
"Morning," she grinned. "What is this?"
"A little post-workout," he whispered in her ear.
She nibbled on the toast feeling his eyes burning on her. Meeting his gaze, she noticed he could not stop grinning.
"Listen, we need to talk about this," she finally blurted out. "Yesterday was... good."
He raised his eyebrows, obviously disagreeing with her.
"Ok fine, it was fuckin' amazing."
"That's better," he grinned cheekily.
"However, even though we're not part of the same squad, you're still my captain and I am your subordinate. We are colleagues."
"I am aware."
"We needed to vent our frustrations, and I think is best we leave it at that."
"This sounds like déjà vu," he remarked.
"Yes, because we always do things we should not be doing!"
He approached her, resting his hand on her waist. His presence alone made her heart flutter. His lips grazing her ear, his hot breath tingling her skin.
"Did you even hear me?" she mumbled, her mind already slipping.
"Of course I did," he murmured in her neck, sucking ever so lightly.
His hand travelling down to her behind grabbing her firmly, pushing her closer forcing out a breathy sigh from her. He was unable to stop his gaze from going over every wrinkle she had on her face, lingering momentarily over her lips.
He hooked his finger underneath her chin, lifting it tenderly, his thumb stroking her skin. His lips meeting hers in a soft yet passionate kiss as his hand rested on her cheek. Her fingers wrapped around his forearm, clinging to him, not wanting for this moment to end.
They were soon interrupted by loud, unruly noises coming from the rec room. The men started trickling in one by one. Reluctantly, they untangled themselves from each other and MacTavish returned to his plate, chomping on eggs.
"Where's the food?" yelled Ozone.
Ozone, Roach, and Archer fought over the plates while Ghost dragged his feet lazily towards MacTavish and Reynolds.
"You already here?" he asked him.
"I didn't leave. Too many reports," said MacTavish curtly.
Ghost turned towards Reynolds expecting an answer.
"Matthews did not approve my leave," she shrugged.
"Hmm," he simply said.
Reynolds gulped hard. The look Ghost gave her made her extremely uneasy. He was not stupid; she was sure he suspected something.
Finishing her plate, she hastily made her to her room, leaving the men fight over who should eat the leftovers. However, she did not even make it out of the rec room when Hernandez burst in.
"Reynolds! Kit up, we have a mission!"
Following Hernandez in the rec room was the rest of Spectre team from Cobalt Strategic. Taken totally by surprise, Reynolds gaped as they trailed in, all kitted up for the cold environment.
"Bloody fuckin' hell, she's still standin' this one!"
"I see you're still a bitch, Ward."
Ward winked at her as she raked her fingers through her hair. "Didn't realise you could get uglier."
"It's the British fucked-up weather."
"Your Highness is pissed because of the weather," she pouted mockingly.
"Got this for you sweetheart," interrupted Bianchi.
Resting on the table was her personal sniper rifle. The Remington 700 with adjustable stock, cheek riser, and a compact chassis customised ideally for her small build.
"You snipe?" asked Archer perplexed, who just joined them.
The rest of the men came out of the kitchen to discover what the commotion was and found three other soldiers waiting patiently in the rec room.
"Occasionally," she replied abruptly.
Noticing that Reynolds did not want to elaborate further, the six-and-a-half-foot soldier who brought her the rifle stepped in.
"Giacomo Bianchi," he beamed, offering his hand.
Archer shook his hand and introduced himself as his eyes scanned his rowdy beard unruly hair.
"Reynolds, go change!" commanded Hernandez, slightly losing her temper.
"Roger ma'am."
She dashed to her room leaving her teammates to socialise with the 141.
"So, on the way to a mission huh?" asked Roach, gobbling down some eggs. "Would you like a boost?"
"Grazie, but we're already fuelled for work," laughed Bianchi.
Keeping to himself, Reyes was carrying a huge kit with a Red Cross on it while Ward was tapping away on her tablet.
"You're a Brit."
Ward tore her attention from the tablet to look up. A well-built man with a mohawk and scar travelling through one his blue eyes was staring at her.
"And you're a Scot," she smirked. "Captain MacTavish, I presume."
They shook hands, her gaze never flailing once. Ghost has just joined them holding a piping mug of tea.
"Fancy a cuppa?" he asked.
"I'm good, Leftenant."
Reyes and Bianchi edged nearer to Ward, feigning ease despite the tension coiled beneath the surface.
"It seems your guard dogs are here," jibed Ghost.
MacTavish shot a glance towards Ghost to tone it down, but he knew it was going to be hopeless. His Lieutenant loved instigating conflict.
"Don't make me use my kit on you, skull face," growled Reyes tapping on his med kit threateningly. "I don't like wasting resources."
The rest of the 141 joined them, still munching on their breakfast, staring them down.
"I'd like to see you try," Ghost smirked from under his mask. "You wouldn't get an inch close to me."
Reyes snapped and stormed towards Ghost but was yanked backwards instantly.
"Reyes, stand down," ordered Hernandez.
"It seems you need to tighten your leash on your team, Hernandez," chuckled Ghost, enjoying the drama he initiated.
Hernandez turned her attention to him, her face merely inches away from his.
"Don't test me, Ghost. Or I'll use that leash to strangle you."
"Ooohh, watch out Genny. I'm actually into that."
"Sod off," snarled Ward.
"Alright, that's enough." MacTavish grabbed Ghost and pushed him away from Spectre team.
Reynolds did not take long. She wore the regulation grey uniform, layered with a thick fleece and a wool scarf wound tight around her neck to guard against the biting cold. Her eyes narrowed at the shifting atmosphere in the rec room. The tension crackled like a live wire between Spectre team and Task Force 141.
"Looks like you're headed to somewhere cold," observed MacTavish, trying to ease the tension.
"The taiga is an unforgivable environment," claimed Hernandez, recomposing herself. "Let's go!"
Everyone grabbed their gear and headed out. With a final nod to the men, Reynolds fell in step with the others.