#cod imagine

A snowstorm hit overnight and Simon was up early as usual, not by choice but rather out of habit. The sun was barely up and the snow had stopped, but there was a blanket over the neighborhood now. It almost seemed to glow a pale shade of blue from what little light there was outside. The path to his door was covered, so was his car... And looking over to the left, he could see the same was the case for you.

Knowing that you wouldn't be up for some time, Simon decided to help you out. He bundled up in a thick parka, a snow balaclava, and a pair of his best gloves. Once his boots were on, he headed outside and got right to work, starting with the path to your door.

About an hour later, your car was dug out from the snow and he just finished with his own side of the semi-detached house. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, looking skyward as a few flakes started to fall again... That's when he heard a familiar voice.

"Oi, Simon!" It was you, clad in your thick winter pajamas and a pair of fluffy slippers, waving at him. "You didn't have to...!"

"I wanted to," he called back as he leaned the snow shovel against the house. "I could come over and shovel it all back into place if it's that much of an issue, though."

You snorted softly and shook your head, and Simon didn't miss the smile that you tried to repress.

"Well, thank you, Si... Come here, I'll start us a pot of coffee," you offered, opening your door wider. "Hurry, I don't want a draft to come in."

Simon, knowing there was no point in saying no, made his way around the hedge that divided your doors and headed into your place.

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"Fuck me...!" Your muffled voice caught Simon's attention. He was just walking back from a trip to the store when he noticed you sitting in your car.

The problem became evident when he saw you try to start it... Only for it to not start after it sputtered pathetically a few times. He already knew your car had some issues, and he also knew that you kept putting off bringing it to the shop. After putting his shopping bags inside, he came back out with a jump starter and went to your car.

You were still out there, trying (and failing) to start the car. Your head rested against the steering wheel in defeat, and you didn't even notice Simon pulling his car around.

"Hey neighbor," Simon said when you seemed to have given up. "Need a jump?"

He got out of the car with the jump starter and finally got a good look at you. A cute blue dress that stopped just below the knee, black boots, and your hair and makeup were done up in a way he never saw before. You were wearing a gold chain with a small heart dangling from it, and his eyes lingered on it for a moment. You looked ready to go out and have fun, and yet you were stuck in your driveway. All dolled up with somewhere to go, but unable to actually go… It’s a tragedy of epic proportions.

"God, yes...Thank you." You sighed heavily and watched as Simon hooked your car up.

"You've gotta look into a jump starter," he said gruffly. "Better yet, actually make a bloody appointment for your car."

"Sorry, but with what money?" You asked half-jokingly. "You've seen the prices, what am I supposed to do if my car needs a little more than some light maintenance? Hell, even 'light maintenance' could get expensive..."

"I could pay." He suggested after your car finally started.

"Thank you... And no, Simon." You relaxed a bit and pulled out of your parking spot. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I'm offering, love." He said, and you could tell that he meant it. This man was more than ready to shell out whatever amount you needed, he had the paycheck to do it.

He muttered something about you being stubborn as you drove off.

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Seemingly out of the blue, the worst heatwave your area had seen in years hit. Simon couldn't handle the heat well, but when he saw how almost all of your flowers withered up as a result of the heat... Well, that just made the heatwave even more unbearable. Not only was it an eyesore to see in your shared backyard, but your reaction to the devastation was worse.

"I spent all spring planting these!" You had complained to him, gesturing to the wilted flora. "All spring, hours of planting… For nothing!"

The flowers certainly looked dead, but some research told Simon that they could probably be saved. After a trip to the nearest garden center, he took to the backyard and busied himself in fixing what the heat ruined.

You found him back there, kneeling in the dirt without a shirt on. His pale, scarred skin was starting to take on a pinkish hue in the brutal summer sun. Sweat beaded on his brow and clung to his short, pale blonde hair. And for a while, you just stood there on the back porch... Watching as Simon worked tirelessly in the garden. He set up something to shield the flowers from the sun, and now he was carefully watering the dry soil. 

When Simon finished up, you came outside with a glass of lemonade for him, condensation already formed on the glass. Your eyes were on every part of him but his face, but he ignored it as he drank the contents glass in one go. To be fair, the short sundress that you were wearing was just as distracting and his eyes felt like wandering a bit.

"Thank you, Simon... Really, you–"

"I didn't 'ave to, I know," he said before you could finish. "I got bored, and I wanted to."

"Fine, okay... Now come inside, you're gonna burn up out here." You insisted, waving him inside. "I made too much lemonade, you could help me finish it."

You ended up adding some vodka to the remainder of the lemonade and had a drunken movie marathon with Simon, cackling and pointing out the terrible acting until the wee hours of the morning. You sent him off to his side of the house with a kiss on the cheek.

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After a particularly annoying deployment and a mission that had him screaming orders until his voice was gone, Simon came home to find you bringing some groceries inside... A lot of groceries. You must've gone out and done enough shopping for the next two weeks, your back seats were down and your car was filled from front to back with bags and boxes.

After he decided that his muscles could stand to lift a bit more, Simon lumbered over and started unloading while you were inside. When you came back out, you yelped in surprise before realizing who was taking your stuff out. The masked man was not a thief, just your hulking six-foot-whatever neighbor being helpful again.

"Oh goddammit, Riley! You scared the shit out of me!" You said, a laugh escaping you. "Jesus, that mask... Did you seriously drive home in it?" You rarely saw him in the skull mask, he only showed it to you after he mentioned it offhandedly during one of your movie nights.

"One of my mates drove me back," he explained, taking two armfuls of groceries. "But yeah... Wore this the whole drive."

"I don't think I'd be able to focus if my passenger looked like the grim reaper... But that's just me," you joked as you followed him inside with a few more bags. "And your voice sounds... Pony."

Simon gave you a withering side-eye, but he was absolutely grinning under the balaclava. "... Pony?"

"Mmhm... You know... A little hoarse...?" You grinned at your own stupid joke, gently bumping your hip against Simon's as you passed him. "Sorry, I spent too much time with the couple down the road... Goddamn dad jokes. Speaking of which, some shit went down between them and the new neighbors while you were gone."

"Oh? Fill me in," Simon muttered as he helped put some things away. “I gotta hear this shite.”

"I will... But only if you help me with this soup recipe I've been dying to try."

Well... Soup is good for a sore throat... How could Simon say no?

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Flu season was a bitch, but thankfully Simon's immune system is stronger than anything that could attack it. You, on the other hand... You were suffering. You were holed up on your side of the semi-detached house, not coming outside for anything or anyone.

Simon only found out after texting you one night, having not seen you for two whole days... And the intense coughing fits that he could hear through the wall weren't comforting him.

si: You alive over there?

Not even a minute later, you texted back:

🖤: im fine, just running a fever... turns out that it wasn't allergies, just gotta wait it out and stay inside for a few days 💪

si: Did the doc give you a prescription?

🖤: yeah, but I don't think I need it, looked it up and it said I could probably heal naturally... tea with honey and lemon and some painkillers for the headaches are enough, i'll survive lol

si: Pick your prescription up.

You responded with some stupid gif that just said "nuh-uh" and Simon could hear you cackle through the wall... Which was followed by another coughing fit and a pathetic wheeze/whine.

She deserved that one, he thought as he put on his hoodie and gloves.

Simon didn't dignify you with another response. Instead, he drove to the pharmacy for your prescription and picked it up himself. Then, he stopped by your favorite deli to grab a quart of your favorite soup, some orange juice, and cough drops for your poor throat.

He banged on your door a couple of times when he got back and left the bags on the porch before going back over to his door. When you came out seconds later, a plush throw blanket draped around you like a cape, he waved his gloved fingers at you.

"Special delivery for a stubborn woman," he called over the hedge. "I don't know how you survived this long if this is how you handle being sick."

"Hey... I told you I have tea and painkillers," you protested, your voice raspier than usual. "But thanks, Si... Really, thank you."

"You can thank me by getting better soon... Got a deployment coming up, and we still have to finish watching that stupid baking show together."

"We could just watch it at the same time and stay on call–"

"No, it's not the same," Simon insisted impatiently before waving you off. "Now go on, get in there and get better. Take your fucking meds."

Miraculously, you did end up getting better a couple of days before he had to go. Together, you watched the last few episodes on his couch.

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Simon looked out for you however he could. At first, it was just because you were a woman living alone, or just the woman he shared a wall with. Maybe it's because he's a little old-fashioned, or maybe it's because he mentally swore to protect any woman after he couldn't protect his own mother.

But after a while, he genuinely did want to help you because it’s you. You’re funny, too stubborn for your own good, quick as a whip, independent as hell... He had to back off a few times when you were truly adamant on doing something on your own. You never asked him for help, even if you needed it, and he took any opportunity to help you when you'd allow it. Truthfully, you were the one person outside of his job that he grew attached to like this... And probably the only person he felt anything deeper for.

Simon went for daily runs when the weather allowed, and sometimes you'd go for a run a little later in the morning. You'd be waiting at the semi with something light for him to eat and a cup of coffee when he got back, and he did the same for you when you returned. Normally, he got back at 7:30 am or so. You would always come back closer to noon.

So when it was going on 2 pm and you still hadn't returned, Simon was getting antsy. He texted you, but realized you rarely looked at your phone when you were on a run. Tired of peeking out of the window every few minutes, he took to pacing to and from his front door like a caged lion. The only other time you were late was when your mom was in town and you warned Simon beforehand. Hell, if you stopped to see someone you would've shot him a text or called. This was abnormal.

Simon started to consider phoning Price or Gaz to see if either was in the area, give them a description of you so they could keep their eyes peeled. Hell, he’d find a way to get Johnny in on it if he wasn’t in fucking Scotland. But then, your voice rang out from down the sidewalk.

"Babe...! Hey, babe!" You yelled out to him, waving a hand. "I'm back!"

Babe...? You had a lot of nicknames for each other, but 'babe' wasn't one of them. Simon looked at you, and there was a look on your face that he never saw before... And he decided that he never wanted to see it again. It was distress, and the reason for that look could be seen just over your shoulder.

A man who Simon had never seen before was following you, and it looked like he was about to say something but stopped when he saw Simon. When you sped the rest of the way over to Simon, he held his arms out to catch you. His eyes never left the man, even as you clung to him... He could feel you shaking like a leaf, heard the fear in your voice as you whispered to him... And he fucking hated it. Hated that you felt unsafe, hated the man that made you feel this way. 

I should tear this bastard a new fucking asshole… If looks could kill, the creep would be vaporized on the spot.

"Si... I've been trying to lose him this whole time... He won't stop," you whispered into his ear before pulling back to look at him. You didn't ask him, not outright, but your eyes begged for help.

Simon gave the man one last glower before he smiled and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Hey, love... I was wondering where you were," he said, loud enough that the creep could hear. "How was the run?"

Your tight smile relaxed a bit as you looked up at him, a shaky exhale leaving you. Instead of answering right away, you tilted your head up to peck Simon on the lips. The simple gesture made his heart leap in his chest and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment... It's not like he hadn't thought of it before, and he wished it was under better circumstances.

"It was fine, but I'm kinda tired now..." You glanced back and saw that the man decided to cross to the other sidewalk. Simon could feel your muscles relax as you turned back to kiss him again, whispering against his lips, "Fuck... Thank you, Si."

"D'you need me to follow him? Report him? Did he–" His words were disrupted yet another kiss, and he almost kissed back but held off, convinced it was just because you thought the guy was still there. "Hey, he's gone..." Simon's face felt like it was on fire... A man like him, reduced to blushing like a schoolboy.

"S-shit, sorry... Uh, we could file a report, sure," you murmured as you leaned back a bit. "And sorry about... That..."

"It's alright. I didn't mind," he reassured you as he gently guided you to his door. "Hell, I think you should've gone harder with the kiss... Really sell it to that fucking weirdo."

A surprised chuckle bubbled out of you and Simon felt a stab of pride to be the one to comfort you. He felt pretty proud of you too, because even though you didn't ask for help verbally... You, the self-reliant woman that you were, still came to him for help.

"You think so?" You asked once you were both inside. "That might be the last I see of that guy, but just in case I have to deal with another... I don’t know, it’s been a while since I really kissed someone, so maybe you could help me…" You trailed off, and Simon pulled you against him again as soon as the door closed.

"Help you...? What're you asking me, love?"