Work Text:
Ghost is a master of stealth.
He uses this to his advantage both on and off the field, the latter of which is mostly for his own personal amusement. It's funnier when a subject isn't expecting him, so he often targets cocky recruits or pompous visiting officers by stealing their training gear, tripping them and disappearing before they see him, and otherwise making a nuisance of himself.
The more talented the solider or officer, though, the more challenging—and fun—it is to get one up on them.
This is why the core 141 members are not exempt from his games.
Price can usually sense him coming, but even after so many years of working together, he's still the one most likely to be surprised when Ghost appears out of the shadows or steps up behind him and suddenly speaks. Sadly, Price is also a consummate professional at holding back his emotions: Ghost might succeed in surprising him, but Price doesn't show it. Which... is not fun (exactly as Price intends).
There's also the fact that Price is his superior officer, even if he rarely invokes rank between them. It's usually better to let sleeping dogs lie... except on the occasions Ghost can play it off as an accident.
Gaz is the perfect soldier, and that extends to his situational awareness. Ghost has managed to actually scare him a sum total of three times, and all of them were while Gaz was drunk off his arse. Ghost has made it a personal goal to scare Gaz while he's not pissed. So far, he's zero to... far too many attempts to count.
Gaz doesn't prank Ghost back; he seems to find it far funnier to loudly announce each of Ghost's failures to everyone in the vicinity. Therefore, Ghost is choosy about the times and places he targets Gaz.
Soap, though... Since Ghost started working with the up and coming sergeant, Soap has become his favorite target, bar none.
The first time Ghost sneaks up behind Soap, he's rewarded with a shriek worthy of a banshee. Soap tackles him and starts an impromptu spar in the rec room, breaking one table and three chairs.
Price reprimands them both.
Ghost is utterly delighted.
Soap becomes his new target more often than not, and every time, he gets some form of shrieking or squeaking or Scottish swearing. Soap returns the favor by pranking the shit out of Ghost: putting hair dye in Ghost's shampoo, offering to make him tea and using salt instead of sugar, and worst of all, stealing all his balaclavas and writing "Property of TF 141, if found return to Soap" across the backs in bright white fabric paint.
Ghost has never been so entertained in all his life.
Soap is also delighted by the turn of events—and Ghost's pointed attention—but for different reasons.
He's spent years learning from the best of the best, honing his skills and working his way up the ranks. But his position in Task Force 141 is the first time he's felt like he truly belongs. Carving out a home for himself among the tight-knit group is a dream come true.
So after those first few scares from the legendary Ghost, he trains himself to keep an ear out for the subtle cues that Ghost is coming—the faint rustle of tactical cargo trousers, a rare squeak of boots, or the sudden silence around him if people see Ghost before Soap senses him. Soon, he's anticipating Ghost's presence nine times out of ten.
Instead of pretending he's not scared or pointing out Ghost's failure, he decides to give his lieutenant a win. Over time, it becomes a challenge to think up and rehearse different ways of responding, all of them solely concocted to entertain Ghost.
It also gives him an excuse to prank Ghost as "payback" without much fear of retribution... beyond another scare, of course.
It's an amusement. A comforting ritual. And it allows him the closeness with Ghost he craves in between tense missions and horrific conditions.
In all, it's a win for both of them, and Soap couldn't be happier.
It's not until Ghost stalks up to where Soap is sitting alone at a table in the midst of a very busy SAS rec room that he thinks he might have made a terrible mistake.
"Have you been fakin' it all this time?"
Ghost growls the question like he's legitimately offended. He's not paying attention to the several other tables of soldiers sitting around them, but Soap is. The sudden silence is deafening. Whispers start up, interspersed with a few incredulous giggles here and there, and Soap has to curl his hand into a fist to hold back a face palm.
Instead, he looks Ghost in the eyes and responds in a loud and clear voice, "Aye, I figured out how to tell yer sneaking up behind me a while ago, but ye seemed so amused by my squawkin' that I kept it up."
The whispers die down. Soap breathes out a little sigh of relief even as he regrets the sudden slump in Ghost's shoulders. Ghost looks off to the side, shakes his head, and stomps away with a muttered "fuckin' hell."
Although his heart is beating like a kick drum, Soap doesn't react, and soon the other soldiers are coming up to him, begging him to teach them how to sense Ghost sneaking up on them, too. Soap laughs and smiles and tells them they'll have to figure it out on their own.
He slips into Ghost's room later that night to talk it out. Ghost is sitting maskless on his bed, nothing but a thin pair of gray jogging bottoms covering his toned body. Soap has to use all his willpower to keep his eyes on Ghost's face as he approaches the bed.
"Are ye truly upset with me?"
Ghost glances at him and sighs. "No. Just disappointed."
Soap huffs a little laugh. "Ye do know that everyone's minds went straight to the gutter with that first comment, though, right?"
"What comment?"
"The one where ye asked me if I'm fakin' it. Had to tell the truth to make sure everyone knew what you were actually talking about."
Like the sun appearing from behind a cloud, Ghost smiles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Oh. Didn't think about it like that."
"No?"
"No. I fuck you too well for you to be fakin' it in bed."
Soap smirks and props a knee on the mattress. "Might need ye to prove it."
Ghost grabs him by the belt loops and pulls until he tumbles into bed. And Soap is happy to confirm that, in this, he's not faking it at all.