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“Actually it’s Soap or Sergeant MacTavish, sir.”
If Soap weren’t as exhausted as he was, he might have smiled at the immediate stunned look of surprise that was morphing quickly into irritation in the Captain’s - not his Captain, this man would never be Price - eyes.
The 141 were currently laying over at some military base in the UK for a few days, waiting on the intel that would take them closer to their next mission objective. Laswell had called ahead and arranged for them to have a temporary base of operations at this small but secure base. It was so they could rest up and coordinate their plan of attack before they set out to complete the mission, which was to secure vital intel from an enemy outpost in the next two towns over.
Soap was starving - hadn’t had a chance to grab more than a measly protein bar all day - and once he’d gotten his bunk claimed and his stuff secured in the barracks, he had wandered around the base until he found the mess hall. It wasn’t much, a small building with a few soldiers inside who had given Soap a long look when he’d entered. He paid them no mind, his intentions being to grab a quick bite to eat but they were quickly thwarted when he suddenly found a man blocking his path. He identified the other’s rank, a Captain, but otherwise paid the other little attention and simply tried to step around him.
The Captain took offense to the fact that Soap didn’t acknowledge him and Soap suddenly found the man in his face. Soap had barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes but he couldn’t stop himself from automatically correcting the Captain when he’d read his first name off his vest. Not many people had the privilege of calling him John.
“What did you just say to me Sergeant?” The Captain demanded, trying to make himself look intimidating as he towered over Soap, crowding him in an attempt to make him uncomfortable.
Soap had to fight not to smile at the man’s attempted tactic. Perhaps if he were anyone else, that tactic might have worked on him but Soap was already well accustomed to someone crowding him and getting into his personal space, after all he worked with Ghost nearly everyday. And Ghost was much more intimidating than this man.
Any other time, Soap may have attempted to pacify the situation and de-escalate it by apologizing to the Captain. He’d have been polite and amended things with a smile. But he was tired and he was hungry and there was still a mission to do and he was quite fed up with this man in his space.
And when Soap MacTavish got fed up, he tended to get mouthier.
He tipped his head to the side, allowing the cocky smirk to stretch his lips. He did not miss the way the Captain’s eyes twitched in growing annoyance at his gesture and he was eating it.
“Ah said Capt’n, that was Soap or MacTavish tae ye.” His accent was laid on thickly, purposefully as so the other wouldn’t be able to understand half of what he was saying.
The Captain looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel at his deliberate insubordination. His face was beet red and Soap could see his hands twitching at his side. All round them the movement had stopped, all eyes were now on the pair. Hushed murmurs reached Soap’s ear and it added fuel to the already kindled fire.
The Captain’s hands balled into fists and Soap shifted his weight just enough to be able to counter any sort of move the other would make. He wondered how much trouble it would cause if he were to get into a fight with a Captain here, then decided it would be well worth it.
The thought to goad the man had just entered his mine when a sudden hush fell over the mess hall until it was silent. Out of his peripherals, Soap could see heads turning. Soon all eyes were trained on something behind where Soap was standing. Soap himself didn’t dare take his attention from the Captain in front of him but he watched intently as the Captain’s eyes flicked over Soap’s shoulder. He watched the Captain’s eyes go wide and how his angry red face suddenly paled. He grinned when suddenly he had his space back as the other man took a backpedaling step backwards away from his person. Soap didn’t even need to look to know there was only one person who could inspire such a reaction.
But he did turn, slowly, to look. Ghost stood in the doorway, full tac gear and armed to the teeth. He was glowering, attention solely zeroed in on Soap. Ghost made an intimidating sight and anyone not used to it would find it absolutely terrifying.
Soap’s grin just grew and he cast a look back at the Captain with a cock of his head just as Ghost moved, crossing the distance and stopping at Soap’s side. He remained silent but his attention, that intense hard stare through the holes of his mask, shifted to the Captain. Ghost stared, silently, until the man was well and truly uncomfortable, then Ghost spoke, his voice that low gravelly growl of a thing.
“Is there a problem here, Captain?”
“I…” The Captain opened and closed his mouth, eyes moving from Ghost’s mask and Soap’s smug expression. He hesitated for a few moments before he seemed to steel himself, to remind himself that he outranked even Ghost in this scenario. He squared his shoulders and met Ghost’s unblinking stare. “Your Sergeant is insubordinate.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Ghost sighed, and Soap fought not to roll his eyes at the drama of it. He kept his eyes on Ghost, waiting for Ghost to silently ask him what really happened.
A subtle look and head tilt in his direction and Soap was explaining immediately, “Was tryin’ ta git some food and he took exception to me not saluting him. Got in mah face when ah corrected him when he called me John, sir.”
Ghost hummed, attention falling back on the Captain. “Doesn’t sound like insubordination to me, Captain, but if you have a problem with it you’ll need to take it up with Price.”
Soap fought the urge to stick his tongue out at the Captain as the man huffed and shot him a reproachful look before finally getting out of the way and heading over to where he was presumably sitting before Soap entered the mess hall. Soap heaved out a sigh as he was finally able to approach and look over the food options. They were piss poor but something was better than nothing he supposed. He was about to reach for a tray when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
Soap glanced and Ghost jerked his head toward the door. “I know a decent pub in this area, got good food and scotch. Gaz and Price were getting ready while I came to find ya.”
“Aye? Lead the way LT.” Soap smiled, nodding his head at the server before he turned on his heel and followed Ghost across the room. Ghost held the door open for him, allowing him to slip out first before Ghost was following.
The moment the door to the mess hall was slammed closed, Soap started to giggle. Ghost said nothing, just shook his head but not before Soap caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Think he’s going to file a complaint with Price?” Soap asked as they neared the barracks where they were stationed.
“He won’t. Not if he’s smart.” Ghost rumbled as they pushed inside where the others were waiting for them.