Chapter Text
Price hadn’t said what the meeting was about this morning, not that Soap had bothered to ask.
The bastard snuck it on him right as he drifted off to sleep, a call that he didn’t think he had responded to with more than three words in total. Yeah, yeah, goodnight.
The memory came back to him the next morning, though, and Price, knowing Soap far too well for his liking, had texted the details over, too. An early meeting for him, Soap, Ghost, and a special visitor. No delays, no absences.
Fuck.
He had no idea who it could possibly be, and he wasn’t quite awake enough to hazard any guesses despite making a brief stop into the kitchen to down whatever old coffee was still cooking.
Finally, he arrived outside Price’s office, bleary-eyed and still half-asleep despite the bitter taste of coffee resting on his breath, and he noticed the door pushed open already. Like a fucking poltergeist sent to haunt the office, Ghost stood still and silent in front of Price’s desk, head dipped down and his mask slightly illuminated by the glow of his phone.
“Morning, Johnny,” Ghost said without even turning to see who it was, his voice unusually chipper. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he knew how much Soap was suffering right now.
God, he wanted to go back to sleep…
“LT,” he replied in greeting instead of immediately complaining, there would surely be time for that later. He stepped into the office and stood beside Ghost. “Got any idea wha’ it is the old man wants?”
“Few ideas,” he said, shrugging his shoulders lightly as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Could be anything with ‘im, though.”
There was definitely something strange about Ghost today, and due to his lack of mocking over Soap’s sleepy face, he couldn’t imagine it was because of that.
“You seem in a good mood, a’least,” he commented in an attempt to draw the reason out of him.
Ghost turned and blinked at Soap. “I’m always in a good mood,” he replied, entirely emotionless.
“Now, I know yer lyin’,” Soap said, snorting out a laugh before something behind him caught his eyes.
A man stood in the doorway, eyes locked onto Ghost’s back before he looked at Soap, carefully raising his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. He was in uniform and, while some of the people passing by gave him curious looks, he seemed perfectly in place.
The saying ‘ curiosity killed the cat ’ rang out in Soap’s mind, but the urge to find out what would happen was far too strong for him to resist. There was two of them and only one of him, they could take him if they had to.
He decided to indulge himself and scratched the back of his head, slowly turning to face forward. He heard nothing for a few seconds before the man beside him let out a soft grunt and there was the sound of some fabric shuffling.
The stranger, who Soap didn't think could be very different from him in height now that he was closer, clung onto Ghost, holding him in a chokehold—or an attempt at one, at least. His legs hooked around Ghost's waist, heels digging into his hips as he struggled against the bigger man.
Ghost was... unbothered. He turned his head through the man's grip and met eyes with Soap. "He'll get it one day," he said casually, not even sounding remotely fazed by the attempted attack.
The man let out an indignant huff and the second he began to loosen his grip on Ghost, the Lieutenant's hands came up and grabbed onto him. He bent just enough to be able to flip the man over his head, landing him on his back in the middle of Price's desk. He grunted with the impact, the wooden desk trembled and a few sheets of paperwork flew off in different directions. Despite the thick helmet the man wore, Soap noticed that his superior took extra care to make sure he didn’t hit his head on the desk—too hard, at least.
He stared up at Ghost with such a fire that Soap worried he would have to intervene, but luckily Price did that for him.
None of them had heard Price walk in, and when he stood beside Ghost, balancing a few folders in one hand and a mug in the other, the confusion on his face was unbearably funny. "Why's Roach on my desk?"
What kind of a name was Roach?
"You got a bug problem, Captain," Ghost replied coolly, maintaining eye contact with Roach.
Roach raised his hand, still laying flat on his back, and offered a salute to Price. Soap tried to stop himself, but he couldn't prevent the snort of amusement that escaped him. Roach seemed thrilled with the development, shooting Soap the brightest smile he swore he had ever seen before he scrambled to his feet, hopping off the desk and switching places with Price. Price watched with tired eyes as Roach purposely bumped into Ghost's shoulder as he walked by, earning a sharp stare from the other man. His eyes widened slightly, a faux look of a challenge crossing over his expression before he calmed down.
"Right, uh..." Price dragged a hand down his face as he sat in his chair, placing the folders on the desk and using them as a makeshift coaster for his cup. "Roach, good to have you back with us. Leave treat you well?"
When Soap didn't hear a response, he glanced over at the other man only to see him quickly moving his hands around. He didn't know much BSL, but enough to realise that was what Roach was doing.
"I'll introduce you in a bloody minute, son," Price mumbled, waving a hand dismissively at the other man, "haven't even had a cup of tea, yet."
Roach let out a small huff, tucking his hands into his pockets before settling back silently. In spite of how he'd made his first impression, he could be very well-behaved when he wanted to be.
"Fucking 'ell, sit down, would ya?" Price continued, exasperation coating his tone and he waved at the chairs. "You'd think you lot've never bloody met me before."
Soap managed to sit down without incident, as did Ghost, but the same couldn't be said for Roach. From looking at the scene of him sitting on the ground, the chair just behind him, and Ghost staring forward with a smug look in his eyes, it was quite easy to tell what had happened.
Price sighed, though this time he didn't offer any kind of comment. Instead, he just leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his still-steaming cup of tea.
It was fascinating watching Ghost be so relaxed around someone else, someone Soap had never met, but what was even more fascinating was how much Ghost let him get away with. In one swift movement, Roach had moved to get up, faking a stumble to buy himself time to tie Ghost's laces together. Somehow, the Lieutenant didn't notice, but Soap did.
Their eyes locked in a knowing stare as Roach stood up and, as he brushed the dust off his trousers, Soap offered a conspiratorial grin. There was a childish glint in Roach's eyes as he grabbed his chair, pointedly dragging it around Ghost to sit on Soap's right side, away from the Lieutenant.
Soap wasn't sure what made the next laugh burst out of him. Whether it was the exhausted expression from Price, the petulant one from Roach, or even the look of faux-offence from Ghost, something made him snap. He covered his face with his hands, wheezing softly to himself for a few seconds before he managed to pull himself together. His eyes were wet, tears from the strain of laughter, and, to his surprise, when he looked up at Price, he wasn't faring much better.
Barely restrained amusement glistened behind his eyes and, though it was hard to tell through the moustache, his lips were pressed together tightly to hide his smile.
"Well, Soap," Price began, humour laced his tone as he nodded towards Roach. "Meet Gary Sanderson, or Roach. Roach, meet John Mactavish, Soap."
Soap went to offer a shake, but Roach beat him to the chase with a firm slap on the shoulder. He signed something after, and while he only caught part of it, he could fill the gaps himself.
"It's good to meet you too, mate," he replied, a smile resting on his lips. He seemed like an easy lad to get along with, at least.
Once Roach had settled back in his seat, Price continued.
"You're workin' together now, so I expect you to follow orders and behave," he said, pointing at Roach with his last word. He only smiled in response. "You do -" Price made a small noise as he pulled a key from his desk and handed it to him. "-have a room on base. Funnily enough, there's a bug problem in the room next to yours, so it's being defumigated. The hall's off limits for a few days while they air it."
"Price, don't tell him we're killing his friends," Ghost scolded lightly, earning a sharp stare from Roach.
He didn't seem to rise to the bait any further, though, instead signing something to Price.
"Well, you could stay in the barracks for the time being-" With the unimpressed look from Roach he was fixed with, Price huffed out a laugh. "I thought as much. Simon, any ideas?"
"We'll buy a few citronella candles for base, Captain. Should keep all the roaches out next time."
Now, this was a sign Soap recognised, though the anger that Ghost was flipped off with was definitely new. There was clear amusement in his Lieutenant's eyes, though, as he reciprocated the gesture.
"Up yours, too, mate."
Roach grinned at the reaction, reaching around Soap to shove lightly at Ghost's shoulder. Ghost seemed remarkably unbothered by the touch, out of character for him, and Soap made a mental note to ask more about their relationship later. Maybe he could get some clarification as to why he had a strange feeling in his chest when he watched the pair interact.
"Right. Well, I did mean actual ideas of where he could stay, spare rooms and the like, but I think that's as good as I'm gonna get. You're dismissed, the lot of you."
Soap realised that he would have to start paying much closer attention if he was ever going to catch anything Roach was saying, with the speed the man signed and his lack of BSL knowledge it was fucking impossible.
Price seemed equally as confused. Luckily for them, Ghost wasn't.
"You don't need to go to a bleedin' hotel , just stay with me," Ghost mumbled, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stood up. He didn't look at Roach, so if Soap hadn't then no one would've seen the soft smile that formed on his face. Price was too busy staring at Ghost, brows raised in subtle surprise at the offer.
"Well, that sorts it then, lads. Send Gaz in if he's out there, would ya?"
It was like watching a car crash in slow motion with what happened next. Roach began making his way to the door, evidently having forgotten about his previous actions, and Ghost followed behind him. The latter, however, didn't make it very far at all, instead falling to the ground with a loud grunt as he just about managed to catch himself with his hands.
Roach's eyes widened comically as he turned to the door, and fought with the handle for a few seconds before he burst into the hall, immediately bumping into someone when he went out.
"O- Sorry, mate," Gaz said quietly, stepping to the side to allow Roach to pass, he received a thankful smile in response before he took off running down the hallway. His brows knit but he reciprocated with a confused smile of his own, even if it was too late for Roach to see it.
When he turned back to the room, it all seemed to become a little clearer.
Ghost moved past him, jaw clenched tight beneath his mask. "Roach- You little wanker ! Get back here!" he yelled, giving Gaz a light shoulder pat on his way before he, too, broke off into a run.
Gaz met Soap's eyes and, unfortunately for him, all Soap could do was shrug.
He had no fucking idea what just happened, either.