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Soap watched the scene before him with an intrigued sense of horror. There was Simon, tromping around the Harris family living room, making far too much noise than was normal for the quiet man. And there was Patty, screaming her tiny lungs out and dangling by her ankles down Simon’s back.
“She is a wild thing isn’t she?” Lucy asked as she sat on the couch next to him. She handed over a glass of champagne, which Soap took with a smile and a nod.
“I'm just impressed he can even hold her like that for so long,” Ronnie added from the doorway.
“Och aye, Simon’s a big strong lad,” Soap answered. “He ain’t no skinny malinky longlegs, thon fir sure.”
“Talking shit MacTavish?” Simon called, giving Soap a poor excuse for a side-eye from across the room. Simon hadn’t been able to properly glare at Soap since about a month into their relationship.
That first month was… tentative, Soap would say. It wasn’t necessarily rough, but anyone who knew anything about the 2 of them could tell that they were both scared. Scared of what, though, was a more complicated matter. Scared of losing something they’d just gained, sure. Scared of doing or saying or being the wrong thing, certainly. Scared of their partner dying or worse yet, not dying, absolutely. Scared of each other… maybe. But things hadn’t been that way for a long time.
“And if I was?” Soap asked, smirking over his glass. “What are ye gonnae do about it?”
“Well that’s for you to find out, isn’t it?”
Just a moment too late, Soap caught movement in his periphery. Patty tackled him from the left, shoving Soap into his sister’s side and almost causing him to spill his drink all over their nice rug. Simon caught it just before any damage could be done.
“Oi! Ye sleekit twits been plannin’ ma demise all night haven’t ye!”
Patty gasped in Soap’s arms, putting on her best puppy dog eyes. “Uncle Johnny! We would never!”
“Certainly not,” Simon agreed.
“I can’t believe you would even suggest such a thing! My favorite uncle!”
“Oi!” Simon called.
“Calling me a twit!”
“Patricia,” Lucy scolded.
“What? I wasnae cursing at anyone!”
“You’re on thin ice young lady. Remember, there’s still time for me to send you to bed early.”
“Not quite dear,” Ronnie spoke up from where he’d been supervising his daughter’s shenanigans. He gestured with his glass towards the TV, where the camera was doing a fly over of the streets of Edinburgh. They were packed with people, despite the snow, and colorful bursts of light popped randomly over the buildings. A small counter in the bottom corner of the screen read 30 seconds , and counting.
Patty raced towards the Tv, leaning far too close than was possibly safe for her young eyes. Simon stepped closer, offering Soap his hand with a warm smile. Soap took it with a smile of his own, pleasantly surprised by the strong arms that wrapped around his waist.
“Happy New Year my love,” Soap sang, pressing his forehead up against Simon’s.
“You know, I’ve never had anyone to kiss on New Year before,” Simon mumbled, drinking in Soap’s presence. He seemed slightly perturbed when Soap pulled away, yet another mischievous smirk gracing his lips.
“5!”
“That so?” he asked. “My my, I seem to be stealing all sorts of firsts from you Mr. Riley.”
“4!”
Simon attempted another pitiful glare at Soap. “Shut up MacTavish.”
“3!”
“And if I wont? What do you plan on doing about that?”
“2!”
“Well that's for you to find out, isn't it?”
“One- ewww!! Guys that’s cooties!” Patty quickly averted her eyes from the kissing couples behind her. Soap couldn’t suppress his laughter as he watched Ronnie scoop her up like a babe that was still rocking cradle size.
Somewhere down the street, a large blast went off and Soap’s entire body went rigid. His first instinct was to duck for cover, pull Simon behind cover, pull his sister behind cover, everyone needed to take cover they weren’t safe just standing out in the open like sitting ducks, Soap had to save them, he had to.
Strong arms around him stopped Soap before he could make any movements though. That was just another red flag in Soap’s mind though, and he needed an out. He was preparing to headbutt whoever was dumb enough to grab him, but was quickly thrown of course by warm breath in his ear.
“They’re just fireworks Johnny,” Simon whispered.
Another explosion went off, and Soap’s body tried to flinch away from it. Simon’s arms tightened just slightly around his waist.
“We’re not downrange love, they’re just fireworks. No one is gonna hurt you here. We’re all safe.”
Soap did his best to focus in on Simon’s voice, until the din of gunfire was replaced by Para’s fearful howling down the hall. If he really focused, Soap could even make out Lucy’s voice trying to calm the overweight begal. When he opened his eyes, Soap was slightly embarrassed, although relieved, to see that they were in fact not in any danger. Ronnie was still cradling Patty in his arms, one cheek pressed into the top of her head as he rocked her.
“You’ll kiss people someday too,” he was saying. “But not any day soon! You’re not allowed to date until I'm old and grey, and you're in your 40’s!”
“You know, I think I know someone perfect for her,” Simon chimed in, still firmly holding Soap against his chest. “He knows all kinds of giraffe facts.”
Patty swooned in her father’s arms. “He’s perfect!”
Ronnie’s face morphed into one of shocked horror. “Simon… how could you?” he asked, voice soaked with betrayal. If at all possible, Ronnie held Patty closer.
“Know who else is perfect?” Soap asked, voice just loud enough for only Simon to hear.
“If you say me I'm burying you in 6 feet of snow,” Simon answered.
Soap laughed. “I love you.”
“Course you do, I am perfect.