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credince--writes · 1 year

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Jitters, Chapter 1 (Remastered)

Chapter One: Security Protocol

Jitters is a PMC brought onto the support 141 operations, much to the distaste of the 141 group of PMC's.

The Remastered version of the original Jitters.

A/N:

Welcome to the rewrite guys! I actually will have my shit together this time, so that means tag lists will be happening! Lmk if you wanna be on it *as I sensually waggle my eyebrows at you*

This wasn't the first time she was sent out to a base.

This was probably the third, actually.

Laswell would send her where she was needed, so a lot of the time she found herself drifting around. She'd be stationed somewhere, finish up the needed task, and then run back to Laswell like a lap dog waiting to go fetch the ball again.

It sucked,

but so would sitting in a jail cell, so this would have to do.

The particular team she was stationed with was once again some kind of special force needing someone behind a screen that knew what they were doing, mainly to route them through a complex series of tunnels while avoiding security systems. Shutting off power when necessary.

Teaming up with some British team, she couldn't exactly remember the name she was too busy directing Sergeant Dumbass through a tunnel.

"You're going to have a series of laser security systems roughly twenty feet in front of you. Big red door next to it. Don't pass it until I give you the clear." Jitters spoke into her microphone.

"How the hell do you know it's red?" There was a gruffness to his voice, there always was whenever she spoke to the special forces guys- always a bit of a ruggedness at the edge of their voice as they’d trudge through shitty abandoned building after the next. She supposed after long enough they were in it for the thrill- when the glamorized ‘saving the world’ complex wore off. Hunting for adrenaline, pushing until the blood pounding in your ears gave the high they were searching for.

"I'm looking at you. I can see your bald spot." She responded, sighing after the mic cut off and leaning back in her chair.

It was as if they’d never really believe her- as she watched overhead. Either from their trackers or through the cameras scattered throughout a building.

The man she was observing through the screen turned around to face the camera and flipped it off before following his directed path.

"Alright... Hang tight for a moment please." She says, tapping into a separate comm unit.

"Miles this is Jitters, what is the status?"

"Dealing with some issues." His voice calmly- too calmly replied. The kind of shutoff you layer over when something is going wrong and before everything goes to shit.

"What kind of issues?" She cranes her neck over, glancing at the wall that separated the two of them. Her eyes narrowed on the concrete as if she were ready to melt through it-

But it was always like this, and even though she was confident that it would be resolved, that everything would be ok in the end. The tremor in her hands always found itself present, the jittering of her fingers on the keyboard as the anxiety and adrenaline started flowing.

She could never understand why people would seek it- the feeling of adrenaline in their veins.

"They're being resolved don't worry about it." His clipped voice spoke again.

"Miles I have three minutes before I lose stability on my end. Whatever issues you're running into need to be resolved fast."

There was silence on the other end.

It always died into silence.

…

That wasn't the last time Miles had become a major threat to the welfare of a mission, that and pain in her ass. It wasn't that he was totally incompetent- just enough that he was constantly putting teams in danger. A combination of spite and pride. Something she was familiar with, as much as she’d stuff it deep down and ignore it.

Constantly putting people in danger, either because he was still too bull-headed to accept help when she was trying to give it or was trying to prove himself in some respect.

That was until the current team they were assisting left, leaving the two of them with the base squad while another task force was brought in.

It was always some kind of task force- special operations unit, reacted names, and masked faces.

She had heard in rumors around the base that this Task Force- 141 is what it was called was something different. She was never given any real background on the teams, or redacted information but enough to get by to understand the premise of the operations. They were put on the real dirty jobs. The things that needed to be kept quiet.

Things she always ended up in her lap.

She was disposable- not that Laswell would ever explicitly say it.

She’d never be a liability because she no longer had the same ‘free will’ another had.

There was no going home,

Only the next mission.

The next dirty job.

She realized this when she was put into a separate briefing room from the rest of the squad she was stationed with. She was going to know more sensitive information, her and Miles, that is.

It was a pretty simple mission, but from what she understood very bloody on one end. It was infiltrating an enemy base, force, or stealth.

Whatever was necessary.

The day 141 arrived she was sitting on a crate fidgeting with one of the radios a private had brought up to her needing to be fixed. The pleading looks on his face to keep it quiet before his Sergeant found out and ripped him a new one. She didn't know what was up with them, but they seemed absolutely prone to breaking things in the most moronic ways. Made sense though, she saw a group of them dragging a fellow private around the warehouse floor as a mop.

The sound of a helicopter landing could be heard in closer proximity than normal, and the rolling doors opened to reveal the awaiting squad.

One thing Jitters always found amusing was the strange choices of hair, facial hair, or not that the men in the military would choose. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Miles approach, his chest puffed out in an attempt to stand taller as he approached her.

"I want Skull." He said.

She quirked a brow. "Bet he'll chew you up n' spit you out." She responded.

"Masked ones are always important." He responded. "You can take whatever team the skull guy isn't on."

"Hm." Leaning back and resting her hand against the crate trying to push down the dread that always seemed to rise up in her throat like bile when a new mission was presented. They were definitely observant, they had to be or they would be dead. Scanning and surveying the room. She watched as a grown-ass man with a mohawk stared at the two of them.

She matched his gaze, returning his intensity before he blinked and looked away. Miles had already left her side, walking to the debriefing room where the new arrivals were headed too. She sighed and stood up, following Miles to the room where the men had already gathered and seated around the table. Peeking her head in after Miles, she stepped in.

"Right on time you too." She heard Lt. Gulch say, he was heading the front of the table. Getting ready to explain new developments that had occurred in the last hour or so- papers scattered below on the table. Manila folders and ramblings in his oh-so-familiar chicken scratch tacked to the walls.

Jitters settled at the back of the table, sitting next to a man with a unibrow of a mustache on his face while Miles scurried over to sit in the general proximity of the masked giant at the table. There was a tension within the room- which was to be expected. The task forces were one and the same, usually tight-knit groups of men who would rather die than put their lives in the hands of someone they weren’t familiar with- someone they didn’t know they could trust.

Gulch began to lecture on about developments, explaining that the team would be split into two. One going from under, another storming in from the top of the building to sandwich in the center, then moving on to secure multiple other locations. Usual clearing tactics, no NVG, quick and dirty if need be, but keep it as clean as possible in respect to making cleanup easier. The navigation of the building would be difficult- security constantly changing but a recent finding of a lack of protection in their digital space provides an opportunity for them to breach.

"Which is why we have these two here today, one will be assigned to each of your teams. I'll allow you to choose as they will be a part of your respective teams for the next week." Gulch continued.

She always dreaded this part.

Introductions.

As if they really cared about who they were, and what they really did. Moreso once they understood what she was, her presence here.

Not that they’d ever question it, it seemed that all of them were connected one way or another to Laswell, and with her ‘stamp’ of approval, or ownership they wouldn’t ask many more questions.

Miles stood up, introducing his name and rank, and then sat down.

Jitters looked at him, then looked around the room not bothering to stand up. Avoiding every contact and trying to keep her voice even level. Not to stand and show the shake of her hands and the anxiety that these introductions always brought her. "They call me Jitters."

There were a few questionable glances given in response. Mustache piping up from next to her. "What about your Name & Rank?"

Gulch piped in. "Classified, and Jitters is a PMC sent in specifically for this assignment."

She watched as Mowhawk sat back in his chair and grumbled something to Skullface. Before he piped up. "Why is there a PMC on this job, do we not have techs?"

"Laswell had her sent in specifically, I'm under higher orders from General Spots, and advisement of Laswell. Which I don't plan on ignoring, is that a problem MacTavish?"

Mowhawk MacTavish sighed, and sat back. "No. Ghost and I will take Miles then."

Skullface nodded.

Apparently, his name was Ghost.

Mustache nodded, "Alright then. Jitters." He said with a little bit of hesitancy. "You, Gaz, and I will be the second team infiltrating from the top of the building once our first steps are secured."

She gave him a nod. "Is this still a pack & pull operation? Two, one, and gather?" She asked to the inhabitants of the room.

"Yes," Gulch started. "Team two will be in the field for two days while Team one remains in the field for one, returns to drop off, then stays until Team one meets back. Both teams will then follow to finish in one day- or however long it takes to fulfill the remaining objectives."

Jitters leaned back in her seat. "Are they aware of how it's going to work?" She nods her head back to the man behind her.

Gulch shrugs a little. "Was hoping you could explain, you start losing me when you're going on about satellites."

“Well-” She opened her mouth to speak.

"I can." Miles volunteers, standing up, cutting her off with the ever-present smirk on his lips.

"We are going to be equipping you all with specialized comms' routed through one of our satellites for this mission. We will be able to remotely access cameras throughout your route and give information as needed. Once you reach your target point, question and deal with the target then we will work on acquiring intel in either of these two points." He points behind him at the map. "Once the initial is finished, your teams will separate once more to finish out delegated tasks. The comm. systems are separated to further security, so all traffic will need to be routed through us."

"Why will our comms be separated?" Gaz asks.

"Well…" Miles pauses, faltering for a moment to gather his words.

Skullface scoffs.

She could see the embarrassment burn knot Miles face, hands clenching together at his sides.

"It's in case one of you is KIA, or have your communications compromised. Doesn't compromise both groups, keeps it segregated into one team." Jitters bumps in, shooting a side glance to Miles as his head snapped over to glare. "Miles also forgot to mention the lockout segments of the map where no one will be able to get any communications out. From what we know they lined these segments well enough to half any communication traffic through their walls. You'll all have to resort to more unique means of keeping the communication line open."

"Enlighten us." Ghost said, crossing his arms.

"One of each of your team is going to have to secure access to the vent system once you gain access to the fortified rooms. Your partner will be able to hear you through the vent, and the partner inside the vent will be able to further communicate."

"I won't fit in a vent," MacTavish says matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure you'll manage." Gaz replied.

The door opened, and one of the other Luitenants’ heads popped in "Jitters, you're needed immediately." There was that tone of urgency- not one of dire the world is going to end.

No, that was usually the pre-mission ass-chewing.

Gulch shot a glare. "What is it?"

"Laswell is on the line right now." They responded.

"God Damn it." Jitters groaned. Standing up and turning "Yea, Yea, I'll be there in a second. Miles finish where I left off and don't forget half."

He glared in response.

...

Had the call been important? Not really. It was more as if her mother had called to give her a preliminary chewing out before she was sent off to summer camp. Finishing off the call with "Don't let anything get in the way of this mission."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Walking out of the private room she was pulled into the take the call with Laswell, mind running through the different scenarios of things going wrong and how to fix them all before they actually happened. Taking a stride down the hallway as something bumped into her shoulder. Looking over she was met at an equal height with Miles.

"Don't. Ever." He pushed her shoulder against the wall and leaned up to her, "Pull what shit again in a meeting again." She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, the venom that dripped out of his words, and the anger that flashed in his eyes when he spoke. She almost wanted to laugh- him making a fool of himself in the briefing and acting big and strong and smart. Only for it to blow back up in his face.

Did she need to call him out in the meeting in the way she did?

No.

Did she do it anyways?

Of course.

"Kids. What the fuck are you doing?" They heard Gulch's voice.

"Nothing Luitenant." Miles answers quickly, before leaving.

"Captain Price and I would like a word," Gulch says nodding his head over to a door, before leading her and Price into the same meeting room as before.

"I need to know that you'll have our backs." Price says, tilting his head down to match her gaze. "We've had a... Bad track record with PMCs." There was a graveness to his tone- one that didn’t feel fabricated in the way the Captains and Luitenants and Seargants would always create to seem more serious. To try and scare someone into submission. But it felt real- a layer of pain beneath the surface of the simple words ‘bad track record’.

There was a history behind them, and it put her on edge.

It was already a losing battle gaining their trust for a short mission, but to already be put so far behind and to have this layered on top of it would spell disaster for the operation as a whole. It made dread crawl up her throat, fingers digging small crescents into her palms before sucking in a breath and leaving her tone out to portray confidence.

She shrugs. "I don't think Laswell would've sent me here if I wasn't going to cover you. I was briefed on the mission before you came here, when it was still supposed to be in the Nordics."

"How do you know Laswell?" Price asks.

Jitters looks to Gulch, nearly desperate to explain why, who shrugs in response.

Asshole.

She couldn’t- wouldn’t lay it all out on the table. It would be stupid to, and he had no reason to know, no right. It wasn’t his place, Captain or not. Even so, she could feel the cocky energy radiating off of Miles hoping to watch her stutter, to watch her fail and prove she wouldn’t be reliable for the mission.

She was sure he wanted her pulled from it.

Fake it til you make it, isn’t that what they say?

"I'm who Laswell sends out when things need to be done right… if that makes any sense." Jitters replies simply. Maybe it was a mild middle finger to Miles, who always seemed to find a hiccup and magnify it until it nearly ruined an op- but it was who she was.

She was sent to these jobs.

She read the redacted paperwork.

And she worked in the background, trudging behind a soldier to download files in the field or to hide behind a screen and direct.

Price nods. "Perfect. See you in the morning."

"Yea..." She says, watching everyone file out, leaving her in the empty room.

Waking up bright and early- it couldn't even be called that. It was nighttime. Dark. And fucking cold. That's what it was. Waking up dark and cold.

Jitters grumbled to herself, pulling on her clothes for the day and picking up two gadgets off of her work table, and making her way outside.

"Good to see you're finally up." She heard Miles say from the side of her as she walked into the warehouse where the men were suiting up.

She walked up to Gaz and Price who were prepping their weapons and gear. "Come here please." She says, rubbing her eyes.

"What's up?" Gaz asks.

Jitters reaches into her pocket and pulls out two small button-like forms. "These are vibrators- God." She groans, face heating up at the statement and realizing once the words left her mouth what a shitty idea naming them was. "Not like that though, here." She quickly adds, seeing the twitch upward in the two men’s lips. She reaches out and grabs Gaz's hand, pulling him a little closer to her. Grabbing his glove and sliding it into the center of his wrist.

"If you're in a situation that you can't verbally respond, you buzz me. I'll be asking yes and no questions. Two for no and three for yes." She explains, handing the other to Price before looking at her watch. "Example." She taps on her wrist twice, and the two men look down at the feeling of the little machine buzzing on the top of their wrists.

"I'll be asking you something along the lines of checkpoint reached. I know this is going to be a stealth operation so minimizing any potential faults in your navigation is at the height of my priority."

"Thanks, neva' had something like this before." Gaz says.

Price nods, "We will establish a connection when we reach point A."

Jitters nodded, "Copy that."

Once she had finished with Price & Gaz, she’d hung back for a moment to watch Miles sputter and suck up to the two other men. It was almost comedic- watching him try and flex his theoretical muscles of technical operations as if they really cared. "You got some brown on your nose." She comments to him.

"Fuck you."

....

After the connections were established, the teams had moved out. From what she gathered Miles was having to deal with all of the feedback from water sloshing in the comms.

Have fun with that, you prick.

Advancements on her end were made quickly and methodically, leading the team through their routes with limited enemy casualties to maintain the stealth the mission required.

Soon enough the garble could be heard over the comms.

"Entering blackout area, be advised. Notify when placement is established overhead."

She waited.

And waited.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before she felt three buzzes on her wrist.

"Establish a connection, notify when established."

Soon enough, three buzzes were felt again on her arm.

"Maintain your location until advised. Waiting for the crash."

One,

Two,

Three.

Yes.

She stood up, looking over to Miles who was frantically typing. Why was he typing? Had they already trigged a security protocol in the building? How hard was it for him not to fuck something up- for once, one time, she begged in her own mind. Just once, for everything to go smoothly.

Maybe when hell froze over.

"Miles I need an ETA."

"Dealing with complications." He mutters out.

She almost wanted to sneer back ‘all you have is complications’, but she held it back. For now.

"Miles I have limited time, sort your shit out, and do it quick."

"Location compromised," Miles yelled out, throwing his back against his chair and tossing his hands into his hair, and groaning, quickly slouching back forward to continue back on working on whatever he was frantically typing for.

"Fuck." Jitters whisper yelled. Rushing back to her desk she established a connection with Price and Gaz. "Changing plans, begin upload procedures now. You'll be seeing friends in less than five."

One,

Two,

Three.

Leaving her desk, but keeping the earpiece for her team in her ear she marched over to Miles. "Tell me what's happening."

"Triggered security protocol Alpha-3."

Her gaze hardened on him. "You're shitting me."

"No!" He whisper yelled back, trying to keep his voice quiet, even though it wasn’t calm by any means. “Why would I be shitting about that?”

"We need our eyes here Miles." She could hear the voice of Mactavish through his earpiece.

"How could you of fucked it that bad?" She asked, hand reaching up and gripping onto his chair, leaning over to take a look at his screen.

"Shut up!" Miles snapped back at her.

That horrible feeling crawled up her spine, the feeling of it like the legs of a spider creeping up to her neck. If neither of them did anything, if Miles didn’t do anything and quickly the entire operation would be a bust and not only would the current operatives in the building be in danger, but more importantly- at least to Jitters- the mission would be a failure.

And Laswell meant what she said on the call.

"Don't let anything get in the way of this mission."

Her arm reached out, grabbing Miles shoulder and pushing on it, trying to get him out of the seat while she pushed forward trying to slot her hips into the chair. "Move."

"What?" He asked, eyebrows raising as if he didn’t hear her the first time, as if her words weren't clear enough. His body pushed forward and he leaned back against it, fighting the of her hand against his shoulder by simply leaning into it and ignoring it.

"You heard me. Move." She urged again.

"Miles!" MacTavish emphasizes in his comm.

"Fuckin', move." Jitters removed her hand, sidestepping behind the chair and pushing his back forward while pulling his chair out simultaneously, his body lurhcing forward then leaning back to no longer be met with the chair, flat backing onto the floor as she quickly slid into the seat. Arms stretched out and tapping a few letters on the keyboard.

"What the fuck is going on over there." Ghost hisses through the comm.

"There is a room 200 feet to your left. It will be next to the main line in the underground system. Get there now." Jitters orders.

"What?" Mactavish asks.

"Move your ass. Now!" She all but yells into the microphone.

"Jitters how copy?" She can hear Gaz ask.

"Hold." She says, merging the two communications teams together.

"Sounded like you were fighting back there." Gaz comments.

"I was. connection established- both ends. Can you hear us?" She asks.

"Affirmative." The four men all but say in unison.

"Security protocol Alpha-3 has been activated, meaning I am going to need some coordination on both sides. Gaz I need you to slide back to where you were a bit ago- the panel with the blue lights."

"Copy."

"Price you'll need to take that cord you've got plugged into the system and remove it, ignore the lost progress it doesn't matter what matters is making sure this isn't fucked."

"Copy."

"Ghost I need you to cover while Mac' opens up the panel that should be next to the outgoing pipe. That is a centralized break. One of them should be labeled with a XX83. When I say, flip it and get ready for it to go dark. You'll need to use your night vision to move through the rest of your trajectory. We are trying to make this look like a simple malfunction in the security system. A glitch."

"In the location" Gaz affirms.

"Gaz remember those two wires I just had you cut?"

"Yes."

"I need you to cut the third to the right- white with writing on it. And You're gonna need to stick the two hot ends together. it's gonna make a light show so don't stick your head in there. Notify when complete."

She waited a few moments, nearly feeling the cold sweat collecting on her neck. The feeling of adrenaline, of anxiety creeping up and making her ears feel hot. Feeling her pulse in her fingers as her hands moved furiously to input information as needed to make sure that the mission was not compromised.

"We have inbound security patrol." Ghost replies.

"Copy. Standby." She replies.

"It's complete," Gaz Responds, a slight crackling in the background of his comms. "You were right, made a hell of a show."

"Flip it now MacTavish."

"Copy."

"Lights will be down for roughly 45 seconds. You need to move now you too. Price, plug in now."

"Copy."

"Established."

"Alright, the security system is resetting. Clear, for now, finish that download and get the fuck out of there."

She leans back in her seat, glancing over to meet the glare of Miles. Disconnecting the Coms from each other she shot him a glance. "You want your job back? Or are you gonna fuck it up again?" She sneers.

"Get out of my chair." He grits out, jaw tense as he stands.

She pulls his earpiece from her head, tossing it at him and standing. No so gently tossing his chair to the side and listening to it clatter on the ground as she makes her way back to her chair.

"Fine by me, this chair smells like shit anyways."

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credince--writes · 2 years

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MacLovin'

Everyone needs a little MacLovin'.

AO3

Warnings:

Smut, roofies, Soap's hairy taint.

Soap had a problem with sex.

No one would ever call him out for it though.

It's not like drinking yourself under the table every night with a bottle.

But it was pressing up against a random woman in a supply closet.

The random, sloppy sex on top of a cot.

It filled a void.

A creature comfort.

The chase to ecstasy, and the inevitable letdown.

So he kept chasing that high whenever he could.

It filled the void, in a way,

...

The first time it happened, Jitters was bunking with Soap. He'd been shot, so he wouldn't be out in the field with Price & Gaz. Nut until his stitches were removed.

She'd been providing ground support to the group of them, checking cameras and providing assistance. But as the day dragged on, so did the mission. There were less and less cameras, they were moving further out into the wilderness.

That wasn't something she could help with.

So, after Price gave her the all-clear, she headed to the kitchen of the safe house, where she'd fix up something quick to eat before she passed out for the night.

"Jesus- Fuckin' Shit!" She heard Soap exclaim- loud enough for her to hear it in the kitchen followed by thumping sounds.

Hesitantly, she set her plate down and made her way to their room. Maybe he had fallen, and torn open his stitches. Preparing herself mentally to find a bleeding seething mess on the floor she carefully opened the door up.

Soap was hunched over the bed, the woman pinned down beneath him arms outstretched gripping onto the sheets below her.

The room reeked.

And she wondered how long the two of them had been going at it.

She faltered, locked in place oogling the Scott's hairy ass on display.

She promptly closed the door behind her.

She'd sleep on the couch.

...

Jitters had a hard time establishing a line of absolutes in her life. There simply was no such thing as complete certainty in her life.

But, if there were to be one thing.

It would be that Soap was absolutely plastered.

The kind of sloppy drunk that made your teeth hurt.

He had two women sitting with him, eating up their attention.

And he fed it to them, all to happy to oblige the attention that they were feeding him.

The team had stopped out at a bar post-mission, Pirce jokingly ordering Jitters a Shirley temple because 'children shouldn't drink'. The bar itself was sticky, and she- albeit silently- gratefully took the drink and nursed its sickly sweetness for the night.

It was common for Jitters to share a room with Soap.

Gaz would stay with Price, and Ghost would stay in his own room. That was if they were forced to bunk up together.

Expenditures, and whatnot she supposed.

"You think he'll bag em'?" Gaz jokes, poking Jitters in the side.

"God. I hope not." Jitters groans.

Price chuckles. "I think you've got the worst luck outta the lot."

She shoots him a glance. "Then I'll be knocking on your door when I find the room is being thoroughly fornicated when I try to lay my head to rest." She replies.

"Just keep those frozen feet the hell away from me." Gaz comments.

"I'm hurt, am I not a good cuddle buddy?" She jokes back to Gaz.

Price raises a brow, before adding. "It's a woman thing."

"Never knew you'd been graced by the touch of a woman before, Cap." Gaz replies.

"Must be all that spite runnin' through their veins." Price replies.

Jitters scoffs. "My feet aren't cold. You're just a bitch."

"How's that Shirley temple there, sweetheart?" Gaz replies, a shit-eating grin crawling up his face.

She raises a middle finger before taking another sip of the drink.

Gaz reached into his wallet, and pulled out the card to his hotel room, handing it over to her. "So you don't bang on the door and wake the bloody floor up."

"Mhmm. Thanks." She laughed lightly as she took the card.

Soap had begun to stumble off.

Maybe they'd be going to a room that wasn't hers.

She could really only hope in these situations.

She'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

She was standing at the edge of the bathroom counter brushing her teeth when the familiar sound of the hotel door clicking and opening was heard. Leaning down to spit into the sink, cleanup and finish she was greeted with the sound of stumbling footsteps.

She pushed open the bathroom door to find Soap laying on his back with a woman on top of him, shirt off and tossed to the side.

On her bed.

"John fucking MacTavish!" Jitters seethed. "That's my fucking bed!"

The woman turned, wide-eyed. Soap grabbed her by her chin and pulled her back down onto him. "Jus' my sister. She'll leave us be."

"MacTavish huh?" The woman asks, sliding down his chest.

"Oh baby, you can call me MacLovin'."

Jitters groaned, finding her shoes and slamming the door behind her.

Stomping through the hallway, she pulled the card Gaz had given her out of her pocket.

Pushing the card into the slot, and pushing the door open into the room. Suprisingly, the lights were still on and as she walked into the room she was greeted with the sight of Price and Gaz sitting in their beds, sitting up arguing about what to watch on the TV across the room.

They both made eye contact with Jitters, and she didn't bother to reply before kicking off her shoes and crawling onto Gaz's bed. Laying face down on top of the sheets.

"Again?" Gaz asked.

"Oh yea- MacLovin was getting it on." She groaned.

The two laughed in response, and went back to bickering about the shows on the 'telli'.

Gaz patted her on the back before pushing himself back up in bed. "Were the twins still there?"

"Fuck you, Gaz."

...

The mission had ended, and they ended up staying in a casino.

A fucking.

Casino.

Jitters was having a hayday.

Price had kept her glued to his side, she'd subtly take out one of her tablets and do some math. Maybe (illegally) do some back-end snooping on the software of the machines and lead the man to gambling victory.

Gaz had joined them, the three of them floated around the casino for hours. Gaz kept feeding Jitters drinks while she led them to machines that were more probable to win- to one's she thought were prettier.

"I like... I like that one." She stated. Looking at a tall machine with a little gold chair, and a big purple dragon floating on it.

"You're drunk." Gaz slurred.

She turned, poking him in the chest. "And you're...." Her eyes narrowed. Then her face went blank. "I forgot."

Gaz laughed before calling the Captain over.

The three then cashed out Price's winnings, Gaz and Jitters leaning on each other while they navigated through the labyrinth that was the floor. She honestly had forgotten what the name of the casino was, but her face was tingly, and every time she took a step she'd bump into Gaz.

"Dinners on me, kids." Price joked. He had been drinking just as much as them, if not more, and was not anywhere near the state of Gaz or Jitters. Jitters had drank nearly a half of what Gaz had drank, and was in the worst state of all three of them.

Ghost and Soap had parked themselves at the bar inside one of the restaurants in the Casino, drinking among themselves while Ghost kept an eye out for the other members of the team. He heard them before he saw them, Gaz and Jitters loudly rambling about something with Price leading them along.

Jitters walked, slightly stumbling up to the bar. Climbing into the chair next to Ghost and almost immediately thumping her head down on the bar.

Gaz and Price joined her, sitting at the bar. The bartender shot her a distasteful look, and walked up to Price to take drink orders.

"Let's get some chips first. And water over there." He said, throwing a thumb over to Jitters.

Jitters cheek rested against the bar, the sticky feeling of the dried drinks residue on the countertop would've made her skin crawl if she wasn't as inebriated as she was.

"You're lookin' like you're feeling right." Ghost mused.

"mHn." She lifted her head. "Mother goose I'd like to request fries." She grumbles.

"Mother goose. I would also, very much like them." Gaz agrees, turning to Price.

"Stop callin' me a blood fuckin' goose." Price grumbles. "I already ordered them."

"Yesssss."

"Price is the mother goose?" Soap asks, leaning forward.

"Yes MacLovin'." Jitters snorts.

"Sweet Jesus." Soap groans. "I said it. One time."

Jitters lowered her voice, trying to give her best drunken impression of Soap. "Nah, that's alright baby just call me MacLovin."

A glass of ice water was set in front of Jitter's face, followed by a basket of fries.

"Thank God." She groaned, grabbing the cup and then a fistful of fries, stuffing them into her mouth.

"God, you're drunk missy." Soap commented.

"Missy." Jitters sneers back at him.

"Hm." Ghost saws, swirling the liquid in his glass around.

"Fuck. I feel better." Jitters burps into her hand, giving a quiet 'excuse me', and pushing the basket of fries over the Gaz. "Thanks mommy." She says, glancing over at Price who just gives her a look of confusion and possibly disgust.

Soap nudged Ghost in the side, pointing over to a woman sitting across the bar.

"Whaddy'a think o' that?" He says, wiggling is eyebrows.

"Whatever you think, MacLovin." Ghost replied dully.

Soap groans, throwing his head back. "Not you too."

Price and Gaz got up to go play a game of pool, leaving the three at the bar to talk among themselves.

"Price won big." Jitters comments, shooting a pretty big smile over to the two of them.

"Imagine you helped." Ghost says.

"mmmmmmmhmmmmmm." She replies.

"How much?" Soap asked.

"Enough to owe me another basket of this." She grumbled. She caught attention of the bartender, asking for a soda and another basket of fries. "And can you please add it to his tab?" She asked, point at Price.

The bartender nodded, ringing up the order and grabbing her soda.

"Look at the arms on that woman." Soap comments, watching the bartender move.

She must've heard, because the bartender turned and smirked. "You like a strong woman?"

There he goes again.

Falling down the rabbit hole.

Ghost wasn't unfamiliar with Soap's woman issues, or habits, whatever Johnny would consider them.

One of the primary reasons he had insisted that Jitters be his new bunkmate when they had to pair up during these hotel spins was, well.

Ghost was a lady boner killer.

Not every day he could shmoze someone into there room- but in his room, there was a giant, masked, skull-faced brit sitting in bed watching romcom reruns.

They didn't often want to tag team.

He could just pull the sister card.

Or the cousin card.

Either one worked.

But that bartender? She was alluring. Those large arms- thick thighs.

She leaned over the counter, giving him a playful smirk. "I like your accent big boy, where's it from?"

His eyes almost rolled into the back of his head out of joy.

"I get off work in a hour." She whispered.

Even fucking better.

...

"What in your glass?" Jitters asked, speaking with her mouth full of fries.

"What do you think?" He responded.

"Something from the South. Where they get some hillbilly blind in one eye to manufacture something out of the entrails of roadkill with a hint of cinnamon." She responded, dipping some of the fries in ketchup before tossing them in her mouth.

"Entrials and cinnamon?" He echos, almost taken aback for a moment.

"Yea. Normal stuff like that." She shrugs. "Gimme a taste."

He sets the glass down, and pushes it over to her. Picking up the glass she hovers it under her nose taking a whiff before taking a sip.

He watched as her eye twitched, she set the glass down and pushed it back over to him.

It took her a moment to swallow as if she was fighting it down. Eye twitching again she let out a huff. "Jesus, am I a man now?" She muses.

"Little strong?"

"Feel like I have hair on my chest now, Spook."

"Spook?" He asked.

"You're a Ghost, your spook the shit outta everyone. You're a Spook."

"Why."

"You could be Mother Hen." She reasoned.

"You call Price that."

"No... I call Price Mother Goose, there's a difference."

"And what's that?"

"Geese are mean as shit." She explains simply.

Ghost lets out a huff, the closest she's ever gotten him to laugh, it's always just a huff of air. She wonders if he's even capable.

A new bartender sped over, dropping a drink off in front of Jitters. "From an admirer."

She eyed the drink, giving it a curious look.

"The hell is that." Ghost asks.

"Not sure Spook. One way to find out." She shrugs, picking the glass up and bringing it to her lips, taking a long sip.

"uhhh." She pauses for a moment, smacking her lips.

"Looks like a hangover in a glass." He adds.

"I think it's a Sex on the Beach." She drinks again.

The glass was pinkish red on the top, orange on the bottom, a little umbrella at the top with an orange-tipped onto the side.

"Shitty name, shitty drink." Ghost stated.

"Oh, don't be a pooper Spook." She joked, taking another drink. "You don't see this and imagine yourself on a beach in a little bikini?"

"No."

"Speedo?"

"No."

"Lame." She huffed. "You gonna pulla' Johnny and find someone to bang?"

"No."

"Ahh. I'm sure someone here would love to shag a brit. 'Specially a big and mysterious one like you."

"Why's that?"

"You got big hands." She comments matter-o-factly.

"What's that mean." He deadpans at her.

"You know what they say about big hands." She hums, laughing a little bit. She looks down at her drink and back at him, who still have no readable expression.

"I don't."

She snorts, drink almost shooting out of her nose. "Just forget I ever said anything, shit."

"Alright."

"You wanna go be a menace to society with me?" She turns, shooting him one of those looks. The kind of look that ends with him dragging her out of a public fountain, or a shrub, or a landscaping tree next to a busy intersection.

His eyes narrow for a moment. "Let's go gamble."

They finish their drinks, Ghost happily adding his tab to Prices before they left to go see what tricks Jitters had up her sleeve when it came to card games.

"I have no idea what's happening." She excitedly said, standing next to him as he sat at a poker table.

"Bit weird yer' friend der' got a mask on. Maken' me think he's a' cheating." A large, (very large), southern man drawled from next to her.

She laughed, patting him on the back.

"No he's just a severe burn survivor- you know. That happens when your fighting in the desert for freedom!" She give him a cheery look.

"Boy, you done fightin in the Afghanistan's?" He asks.

Jitters nods. "He did! War hero- purple heart."

"Well shit." The man chuckles. "Let me buy y'all a round of drinks."

....

The bartender dragged Soap into the back, behind the bar. Into a storage closet full of boxed goods he's sure were used in the restaurant.

Their lips connected, and her hands reached for the hem of his shirt.

"Right to business are we?" He asks, letting out a breathy chuckle.

"That an issue?" She sighs onto his lips, breaking away to pull his shirt over his head.

"Not with me love. Just don't know if you'll be able to handle all of this MacLovin'." He snickers, reaching his hands up to grope her tits while they locked lips again.

One of his hands slid down her pants, undoing her belt and shimmying them off of her hips. She let out a high-pitched whine, muffled into his lips as he lifted her onto a large chest freeze sitting in the back of the room.

"God, let me see that pretty cunt o' yours." He grumbles, dropping to his knees. Hooking a finger into the fabric of her panties crotch and pulling it to the side.

She groaned, hooking her calf around the back of his head, pulling her forward. Her other hand reached up into his hair, grabbing a fistful of his mohawk.

"Don't just see it. Taste it too."

"Happy to oblige."

...

"Walk fast." Jitters eyes were wide, striding past Ghost in one of the pathways between slot machines.

He didn't question it, turning to follow her and keeping up a striding pace pretty easy.

"Hey! Hey you- Stop!" A security guard tries to keep up with them, but with Jitters weaving in and around people, and Ghost naturally causing people to veer away from him, the two quickly navigated away.

"What'd you do?"

She pulled him off to the side, behind a wall to some kind of exit. "Technically? A felony. No problemo' tho. I got one of these." She held up a golden card, engraved with the casino's logo.

"And that would be..."

"It's a bottomless drinks card." She grins. One of those evil, youthful, get so drunk it fucking hurts grins.

"How'd you manage that?" He asked.

"Do you really wanna know, or do you wanna go get a drink."

The two, did indeed go get a drink. Many drinks, to be exact. The copious amounts of alcohol the two consumed was a monumental peak in Simon's life. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten this drink under good pretenses.

"It's free!" she whisper yelled to him.

"Have another one!" She whispers and laughs as she wiggles the card at him.

They were somewhere- apparently, the fucking place had an aquarium. Build into the hallway to the hotel.

"We should get to bed." He comments.

"God what are you my father?" She asked, sitting down on and ledge and staring at the aquarium across from her.

"Someone has to fuckin act like it." He grumbles, fidgeting with the hem of the mask rubbing against his neck

"You know." She slurs.

"Know what."

"You look like you could hold up a convenience store." She glances at him.

"Who's to say I hadn't?" He slightly slurs back.

"You're too much of a softie." She replies back. "Like a sponge."

"Sponge?" He echos.

"Yea. Fuckin' sponge. Or one of those explodey-fishes."

"The fuck are you goin' on about?"

"Uhhh. Puffy. Puffing? No. No. Pufferfish. You're a pufferfish." She agrees with herself.

"I am a man. Not a fish."

"Nah. You're a fish." She keeps going.

"I'd say you're somethin' like a dolphin but they rape baby seals to death."

"What?" He asks.

"Brutal bastards." She agrees.

"Hm."

"Betcha I could swim in there." She comments.

"I'd let the dolphin get ya'."

"Fuckin' brutal."

"Alright, Get up." He says, standing up.

"We going to beddie-bye?" She asks.

"You are, at least." He says, softly leading her towards the elevator with his arm.

"If there is a woman, that isn't me, in my bed. Or any bed, for that matter, when I get into that room. I'm gonna jump."

"Just go to my room."

"Don't know your number."

"546."

"I'm not going to rem. Rem." She pauses. "Gonna puke."

His eyes widen slightly, looking around.

No trash can- no bathroom.

There's a large planter, next to the start of the fish tank.

He all but picks her up, carrying her 6 large long steps to the panted to where she grabs the rim of the planter, and throws up- violently- into the planter.

"Smells like sex on the beach." She comments, rubbing her mouth.

"I've seen worse."

"Just doing my duty to fertilize the plants, Spook."

"You should take up gardening."

They made there way to the elevator, Ghost punching in the floor, slinging her arm around his shoulder while he dragged her to her room. Digging her card out of her pocket and scanning into the room. Pushing the door open and finding a silent, empty room. He dragged her into the bathroom, filling up a cup of water and forcing her to at least wash out her mouth before she went to sleep.

"You'd make a great dad." She comments, after spitting the water out into the sink.

"Why's that."

"You've even got the shitty jokes."

"Hm."

He leads her to the bed, removing her shoes and laying her down on the bed.

She was essentially already out cold. So he glanced around, trying to find a pen. When he did, he grabbed for it, lifting her deadweight arm and writing his room number and floor down on it.

And with that, he turned off the lights and left the room.

...

He pushed his tongue flat into one long singular lick up her pussy.

"God, you taste heavenly." He grumbled.

He can't remember how many times he had said that exact line.

He had her pants off, shirt pushed up enough to access her tits and one hand wrapped around her leg while the other massaged her ass.

She moaned in response, wiggling her hips and pulling on his hair.

He grunted in response to the hair pulling. Diving back down to lap up through her core and suck on her clit. As he did, his hand slid from her ass to around her entrance. He took his index finger, gathering the wetness that had already begun to leak from her. Sliding his large calloused finger around in it before pushing it into the wet heat of her pussy.

He continued to lick, to eat, and devour it. Her praises egged him on, keeping his cock in his pants at an uncomfortable stiffness.

Curling his finger up and feeling the familiar spongey material that always made the fireworks appear. Sliding his finger out, he replaced it with two, curling his fingers forward massaging the interior of her walls.

She gasped, making choking sounds and trying to stifle her moans as he continued to curl his fingers and suck.

"Fuckin' come for me." He mumbles into her pussy.

And she listened.

He always loved a good rule follower.

Meant less foreplay.

He lifted his head to meet her half-lidded gaze.

"My room?" He asked.

She nodded.

...

There was always that weird state where you were half awake and half asleep. Aware of your surroundings but it was as if you were surrounded with cotton.

There was an annoying, agitating slapping sound coming from the room.

Oh wait.

She was drunk still.

She grumbled, mouth feeling too dry, and half questioning where her shoes went.

She looked over the edge of the bed, seeing them neatly set next to the foot of her bed.

She lifted her head, only to be met with the sight of a stark naked MacTavish, plowing into the bartender from earlier.

The pair, equal in their nakedness, sweaty and huffing and touching all over.

One of his hands was straight forward, grasped onto a boob while the other arm held her legs up, knees almost touching her ears while the rest of his body rocked his cock in back and forth.

Holy fuck she was making eye contact with Soaps Balls.

"I'm coming." He grunts. "Fuck- Fuck, I'm coming. I'm coming!" He groans, throwing his head back.

"I'm fucking going! I'm going I'm going i'm going!" Jitters yell back. Soap doesn't even turn to give her a glance.

He keeps going, however.

Pulling her shoes on and looking back into the room, she's once again met with MacTavish's man ass, and a lovely shot of his taint as he begins for round two.

Slamming the door behind her, she curses as she looks around. The hallways of these casinos was nothing short of a purgatory. She patted her pocket, feeling for the shiny little gold card that could make the sigh of Johnny's taint fade from her memory.

Like a hound, she sniffed her way down to the lobby, through the maze of machines and to a bar. She tapped the card on the counter, waiting for the bartender to swing by and pick up her order.

"Hey there." The smooth sound of a mans voice chimes in from her left, she shoots him a glance.

"What?" She asks.

"Well. That's not very nice." He frowns. "How about we start over, I buy you a drink?"

"I can buy my own drinks, thanks though. But not really thanks, you've done nothing to warrant my gratitude." She replies.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket- she rarely used the damn thing. It was a little comedic. It's was one of the newer phones- the one Ghost gave her after the water fountain incident so he could 'keep track' of her when they went out in public.

She didn't know what was worse, the fact he insisted on the tracker, put parental controls on the app store, or the fact she was fine with him knowing where she was.

It was like an ankle monitor, but it could FaceTime.

She opened her texts, exiting out of her text with Gaz, and tapping on 'Spook'.

I saw Soap's Taint. Drinking away the pain.

The read notification popped up under the message. The typing animation appears and drops away right after. She was blatantly trying to ignore the man next to her.

He shrugs, orders his drink and she orders hers.

"So how's a pretty girl like you sitting alone at a bar?"

"I'm schizophrenic, actually, I have three friends sitting to my left. You just can't see them." She adds.

"God, you have quite the mouth on you, don't ya?" He asked.

"Comes with the liquor." She replies.

He laughs.

"My names Merrick."

"Jay." She replied.

"Like the bird?" He asked.

"No. The letter of the alphabet."

He laughs again. "You're funny. I like you."

"No offense dude, but you look, like, 35." She replies dryly.

"Then what about my friend over there, hm?" He says.

She turns her body to look across the room.

"Where?" She asks.

He looks at her, humming slightly. "He must've bailed. He was kind of the loner type. Odd duck."

She huffs, turning back around and grabbing her drink. "You aren't gonna leave me be, are ya?"

He grins, a glint in his eyes as he takes a sip. "And give up a night with a pretty woman like you? Never."

Ghost sat in his room, the TV playing some random RomCom he would never admit he intentionally put on playing in the background.

His phone vibrated from a notification, glancing over at it and seeing it was from Jitters. He opened it, read it, and set his phone back down.

Been there, done that.

Maybe twenty minutes later, two more buzzes sounded in from his phone.

A photo of feet- not hers, next to her on a bar stool. Followed by a message.

'Weird'

He stared at the phone, trying to decipher what the message meant.

Was it drunk commentating, or her asking for help. He debated in his mind for a moment. Had it been drunk commentating, he'd be dealing with more vomit if he went down to check on her.

But she never texted single lines.

She said she wouldn't bother, he's to 'old' to understand it, so she'd always text in completed sentences.

He grumbled, standing up and finding the simple black mask he'd been wearing for the entire outing, pulling it back over his face and making his way to the door.

It's better to be safe, than sorry he'd suppose.

The RomCom wasn't going anywhere anyways.

...

She sat after sending the message.

She knew- or at least hoped it would be a red flag.

There was something off.

Really off.

The man was suppressing some kind of accent, she'd be able to recognize it. She was all too familiar with people faking American accents, but this had been practiced. Or maybe, she was simply overthinking it.

Maybe.

She slipped her phone into her pants pocket, looking up at him. He'd turned to his drink, taking a sip of it.

"Have you ever traveled abroad, Jay?" He asked.

"No. Not really." She responded. Finishing off her drink, she set the glass down and gave him a look. "You're pretty persistent. You know? Gotta give you props for that man."

He gave her a smile.

"You travel a lot?" She asked.

"Yes and no. I do fly out to work though, but nothing beats working from home."

She nodded. "Feel that."

The urge to pee become top priority in her mind, standing up. "Alright, gotta go." She said, not waiting for a response.

Speedwalking to the bathroom to do her business, she was hit with a wave of drunk. The kind that made her feel she could read fluent Mandarin. When she knew nothing about mandarin.

Drink's must've been strong.

She left the bathroom, becoming all to aware of her stumbling.

The confusion was more debilitating than anything, the feeling of her body shutting down. Eyes blurring.

An arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her up. She lulled her head to the side, giving him a confused glance.

"Oh it's alright sweetheart. Had one two many?" Marrick asked.

"nhn, hn no.." She mumbled.

He laughed lightly, leading her out of the bar and down the hallways.

Jitters could feel her heartbeat in her ears, the lights from the slot machines, and all of the noise.

It was overwhelming.

She heard the ding of an elevator.

The sound of a door being unlocked.

Scuffing of shoes.

The feeling of a bed under her.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Merrick faltered for a moment, pushing his suit jacket back to pull a pistol from his side. Walking up to the door and seeing no one through the peephole. Opening the door, he peeked his head out to look.

The door was forced open, Ghost forcing his way through the door, grabbing Merricks gun, and punching him in the face. Merrick fell to the ground, and Ghost got on top of him, throwing four punches into his face. A sickening cracking sound was followed by a wheeze.

Ghost lifted the gun Merrick had been holding previously. "You have five seconds to tell me who you are."

"Fuck you."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Fuck! Fuck- wait!" The man yelled. "Pocket." He wheezed out. The blood from his broken nose bubbled out with his struggling breathing.

Ghost reached down, pulling out a burner phone.

His eyes locked with the screen, then to the man.

Ghost stood, a deadly silence filling the room.

"Please." The man said, shuffling could be heard.

Ghost grabbed the man's head, before slamming it down on the granite corner of the sink in the hallway.

There was a disgusting, wet cracking sound before the sound of a crumbling body could be heard.

"Jitters." Ghost said, running over, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

"Njm" She mumbled back.

He cursed, picking her up and dragging her into the bathroom rolling the two of the on the the floor of the cold tile in front of the toilet.

He held her head in his hands, forcing her mouth open with on hand while he spoke softly in the other.

"You need to vomit."

"...no... mmhm." She replied, trying to fight him off.

"Fuckin' Vomit you stubborn brat." He hisses. She was drugged- that much was evident.

She tried to bite down on his hand, but even the movements of her jaw were sluggish.

"Sorry 'bout this." He grumbles, taking his free hand and sticking his finger into the back of her throat.

She gagged, her whole body tensing, but not throwing up.

"You had no problem vomiting earlier, so why now?" He complains loudly.

She was shaking, trying to push his hands off of her.

His gaze softened.

"Hey... Come on now." He said. "It'll make you feel better alright? I'll be nicer I promise."

She choked a little when he tried again, but she did puke.

He held her hair back as she vomited into the toilet bowl, tears pricking her eyes as she did so.

"Come on- you did a good job." He praised her, picking her up as he stood. He looked out into the room, corpse of the man on the floor. He pulled out his phone, dialing Price.

"The bloody fuck- it's three in the morning!" He hissed.

"We have a problem."

Price was quiet for a moment. "What kind of problem?"

Ghost looks at the burner phone, a photo of Jitters on the screen followed by the text that said.

'Alive'

"The Russian kind."

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