Kyle notices the pattern.
When he passes by the doorway to the medical offices, he has to do a double take, thinks that he's developed some spontaneous glaucoma blotting out his vision.
The mass that he thought was taking out part of his sight of the otherwise empty office is actually Ghost, stood leaned up against the wall. In the brief glance Kyle gets of him, he doesn't look to be in need of medical attention. In fact, he seems freakishly at ease. Well, at as much ease as Ghost can be. Gaz pushes it from his mind quickly.
Until he sees it happen again a few days later.
This time, he sees Ghost disappear into the medical wing with such determined focus like he's following some blood trail scent.
Odd. More than odd, really.
What he can't quite understand is why Ghost has been going to medical so much lately. Kyle has seen the man get shot, stabbed, pulled out from helicopter crashes, and nearly mauled by more than one dog and, even through all of that, the biggest struggle was getting him to go get medical attention beyond a couple stitches and antibiotics.
Kyle's not one to judge in that aspect. There's a level of vulnerability that comes from being a patient and sometimes it's difficult to shift gears from the mission mindset in order to do that.
He's also well aware that it's more difficult for Ghost to accept that than most.
Gaz can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen Ghost wear anything less than three layers that weren't zipped up to his chin, and never without a mask on. He sleeps sitting up and carries enough concealed weaponry to set off a metal detector from across the room. He even tucks his pants into his socks for fuckssake.
So, no. Kyle can't even imagine the words "vulnerable" and "Ghost" being used in the same sentence.
Which makes this whole medic situation a tad concerning. When he brings it up to the captain all he gets in return is a slow blink and heavy sigh. Makes him feel like he's stepped into something he's ill equipped for.
"It's nothing to worry about," Price says and leaves it at that.
If twice is a coincidence, then three times is a pattern. And when that third time happens, Gaz indulges his curiosity and decides to do a little harmless snooping. Which in this case translates to pretending that he's looking at something on his phone near the door Ghost slips into lately like clockwork.
"Hey," he faintly hears your voice. He thinks nothing of it until he hears Ghost's in return, nearly unrecognizable in its placid timbre.
"Rough day?" you ask. Ghost is silent but Gaz can perfectly imagine the shrug he gives. "I've just got some charting to get done. Want to go to your office?"
Kyle hears the creak of a chair being sat in.
"No. Here's fine, ma'am."
"Alright." He waits for anything else but all that he hears afterwards is the sound of you typing and the occasional mouse click.
With all the years of honing his skills, Kyle peeks his head around the corner just enough to look in, praying to god that Ghost isn't already looking in his direction.
You're sitting at your desk, typing away at the computer. Okay, nothing weird there. The military loves their paperwork and medical even more so. That's not the thing that has his jaw want to drop to the ground.
Behind the desk with you, sitting in a chair against the wall with his arms crossed and eyes closed is Ghost.
Ghost. With his eyes closed. The man who won't even move his mask out of the way when he smokes in case someone catches a glimpse of his face and he's napping right next to you in a public space. Well, to be fair Gaz isn't 100% sure that he's actually asleep, but the fact still holds that from where he's standing, Ghost is doing the equivalent of handing you a loaded gun and trusting you not to shoot him with it.
Holy shit, does he—? No. He can't. Would he?
This very quickly feels like something that Kyle should not be witnessing, makes him feel like he's spying on Ghost's version of a marriage proposal.
As quietly as he can, Kyle slinks away, his mind recategorizing everything he knows about the Lieutenant and now you.
With this newly discovered information in mind, Kyle applies to his future spying observations.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, without fail, at roughly 1630 Ghost will slink away to the medical wing where he haunts your office for varying amounts of time. He pops in throughout the week, but these days are a schedule that Kyle has not seen him deviate from once in the time that Gaz has been spying investigating.
Sometimes, he's in and out. Those are the days where you're with a patient or the wing is in a busy period. He pops in, lingering in the shadows of the swarm of people zipping around like bees in a hive until he spots you. On days like that, you don't notice him, focused on your work instead. Kyle watches Ghost watch you with no intent of getting your attention. He just watches. Then he leaves. As if all he needed was just a reminder that you're still around, as if he'll carry the sight of you alive and well like a token throughout the rest of the day.
Other times he stays, settles himself in to sit by your desk like a skull-faced gargoyle. The conversations you have with him are too quiet for Kyle to hear, and he's not about compromise this operation by trying to get closer to do so.
Gaz feels like he's profiling and gathering intelligence for a mission target. All that's missing is the portfolio and a big stamp that says "classified."
At the time that he's gathered is when your shift ends, the both of you get up and you start to gather your things. Ghost slings your bag over his shoulder and walks you out of the medical wing where you both disappear together in the common areas of the base.
On one of these Tuesdays, they get called in for a meeting in Price's office. Laswell's voice comes out from the speakers of the projector going over a change in activity picked up by one of the surveillance teams.
The meeting doesn't drag on, nothing more than any other does, but Ghost sits in the corner like he's sitting on hot coals. He's as still as he ever his but his eyes keep darting to the clock on the wall as if time only moved if he watched it.
"Got a date, or somethin'?" Gaz asks just loud enough for him to hear.
Ghost just looks at him. "No."
He doesn't look at the clock again. Then his leg starts to bounce.
Ghost once spent nine hours straight unmoving in one position up in a sniper nest waiting for a target. But now all of the sudden he can't sit through a basic meeting without acting like there's a fire somewhere. As the hands on the clock get closer and closer to the fifth hour, the tension radiates off of Ghost. It is the most distracting thing Gaz has seen in a while.
And then Kyle remembers: Your day is ending soon. If the meeting goes on for much longer, you'll leave without Ghost walking you to your car.
Kyle does not think of himself as a romantic man, necessarily. If he were forced to have to describe himself, it's not the first word that would come to mind. But sitting there, thinking back on all that he's spied noticed he feels a little flicker in his chest. Makes him feel a little mushy thinking about his big, bad lieutenant and the quiet affection he's noticed that he holds for you.
Gaz remembers how the strain would dissipate off of the LT once he saw you, as if your absence was a breath that Ghost held until you were in his sight again, and he quickly makes a decision.
"Captain," he says just barely avoiding interrupting, "it doesn't seem like the target is making moves to relocate. If we expedite, we risk spooking them. Seems best to hold steady and keep eyes on them as we have been."
"I agree," Price says without hesitation, just as eager to end this. "Laswell?" She nods on the screen.
"I trust your judgment, and we don't have anything that requires immediate attention. If that changes, you'll be notified immediately."
The meeting ends with little fanfare and Ghost is out of the room so fast Gaz doesn't even see him leave. Like he blinked out of existence.
Gaz smiles to himself imagining Ghost sprinting down the hallways just to make it in time to see the pretty medic one more time before she's gone for the day.
He wonders if you have any idea how much you have this man wrapped around your finger. Then again, considering all that he's seen, maybe it's a good thing you don't.
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