Oddball

When Simon’s autistic wife squeaked the question quietly into his ear, he immediately nodded.

“John,” Simon said, standing up. He walked over to Price, who was hosting this nice party with all their friends. “Missus and I are headed out.”

“Tell her I said bye, then.” John was well aware of how overwhelming parties, even small get together parties like this one, could be for wifey.

Tears were streaming down her face by the time Simon opened the car door for her. He buckled her seatbelt and went around to the drivers’ side.

“Overstimulated?” He asked softly as he pulled out of the driveway. “I get it, the music was quiet… abrasive.”

“No,” she murmured, wiping tears away from her face with a sleeve. “Just wanna go home, please.”

Her voice sounded different, sadder.

“I don’t feel like I belonged there,” wifey said. “Like I was watching all of you interacting and- and it felt like an inside joke I don’t get to be part of.”

Simon reached over and let a large hand rest on hers. “Because they’re my coworkers?” He asked.

“No, Si,” she sniffled. “Because you all just- you can just talk and it comes so easily to you. You can smile and laugh and banter with each other without having to really put effort into it.”

“I just wish I didn’t feel like such an outsider all the time.” She hiccuped.

When they got home, Simon carried wifey inside in his strong arms. He laid her down on the bed before helping her get undressed then under her blankets.

Simon turned on her sound machine and music then flipped the lights out. He crawled into the bed, letting wifey snuggle up to him and eventually be nearly underneath his body.

More mermen! with Soap this time too!

Thank @wormwoodartemisia for the glorious idea to merge Soap with a seal. its brilliant!

Price came to Simon’s house to deliver something he’d forgotten at base and wifey (then girlfriend of Simon) opened the door. She was half asleep, dressed in one of Simon’s shirts and a pair of his boxers.

“Oh- hello,” John said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is Gho- Simon here?”

She nodded. “He’s in the bathroom. Wanna sit in here and wait?”

Price sat down on the couch and wifey curled up in a chair.

“Is Simon your friend?” Wifey asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Mhm, work and casual.” John answered. “And you are…?”

“His girlfriend.” Wifey answered. She seemed quite proud of that title. She’d earned it. “Do you like whales?”

John nodded. “They’re- uh- yeah. They’re great.” He stammered. “You?”

Wifey then launched into a ten minute yap sesh about whales and their migration patterns until she was rudely interrupted by a hand on the back of her neck.

Simon leaned down and kissed her cheek. “See you’ve met my boss,” he chuckled. “Talkin’ about whales already?”

She nodded. “He’s listening, see?”

John was, in fact, listening. “She likes whales,” John told Simon.

“That she does, cap.”

So why is be obsessed with you touching him?

Every fleeting casual touch has ghost freezing up, senses zeroing in on the warm press of skin. You'll smile at him when handing him papers, a hand patting his bicep "Have a nice day, okay ghost?" Or your toes knocking against the sides of his boots when you sit across from him in the mess. Once, you reached towards him mid-conversation to tuck a loose curl of hair back under his balaclava and ghost had to go stand in his office for ten minutes to get his breathing in check.

It never fails to lighten Ghost's mood, and the whole team knows it. They could probably guess how many times you touched Ghost that day based solely on how mean he decides to be during training. Others aren't oblivious either. They see the way ghost lingers around you, how his lashes flutter and his face flushes slightly when you rest your hand over his during lunch.

It's not long before a betting pool starts about when you two will actually get together.

Which is also why they know exactly when you stop touching him. By the third day, Ghost has sent two recruits to the medbay with minor injuries after spars, and Price has to pull him from training the recruits altogether after he has them running laps for two hours straight.

As much as Price believes your relations are your own business, it becomes his problem when his men start getting hurt. He knows for a fact there's not been anything horrible, because you two still sit together, even if you keep a polite distance at all times.

"You," Price pulls you aside one day, kyle by his side. "Need to sort out whatever business you have going on with ghost."

"There's nothing to sort, captain." When you speak, it's dull, defeated even. "I was just being foolish. A fucking idiot, really, flirting with a taken man."

This time, it's kyles turn to speak up, frowning in confusion. "Taken?"

You glance at him, frowning further. "Yes. Taken. Haven't you heard?" You huff, "it's all the recruits want to fuckin' talk about. How ghost has himself a nice pretty thing, he really should make it official soon."

Youre too caught up in the disappointment and anger that Ghost not only had a partner, but would soon be 'making it official' with them to notice Kyle's eyes widening. He chuckles, places a hand on your bicep "You need to talk to ghost. He doesn't have a partner, but I'm sure he'd like one."

"The fuck does that mean, Garrick? I know what I heard–" you're cut off by price catching on and letting out a huff of laughter.

"Kid. They were talking about you. They think you are ghost's partner. Or, they hope you will be."

"...what."