DECODE ~ GHOST

18| Pleasure

The hangar was nearly silent by the time me and John returned, with House and Soap being nowhere to be seen, meant that Simon was left by himself. Not that he wouldn't mind, I knew Simon preferred to be alone sometimes, and, to be honest, all of us did. Being alone meant that we had time to process our thoughts and feelings, to dwell on those big decisions that nipped and ate away at us.

He was sat playing with something in his hands, but the minute he heard the door open, it disappeared, and was put into his pocket. It's not something I had recognised, but whatever it was, it was clearly too intimate, too secretive for Simon Riley to indulge me with. He looked over at us both, his eyes tired as he offered a small smile.

"Well if isn't my two favourite people," He remarked, his hands now folded between his legs as he spoke, "You were out there for a while." he observed. And, for those of you that don't know, British people use that to be nosey, wanting to know what took us a while to talk about. But, by the look on Price's face, or his hand across my shoulders, told me to not peep.

I smiled, "Sorry, it was my first cig in a while," I told him, and he nodded slowly. He didn't believe a fucking word I said.

Price patted me on the back, "I'm surprised you didn't hear her coughing her lungs up, it was like she'd never smoked before," he entertained the idea of me being shit when it came to smoking, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I thought you'd quit?" Simon said.

"I did, but after that stint you all pulled earlier, it's hard to not want one," I said back, my eyes landing on Simon's as he stood up and dwarfed all three of us. Sometimes, I forget how tall he is.

His curled index finger brushed under my jaw and lifted it up so that I was looking directly at him, "Such a good girl," he crooned. And I couldn't help but freeze at his sudden behaviour. Was he stupid? Or was he inebriated.

"Are you drunk, Simon?" Price asked, practically taking the words out of my mouth before I had the opportunity to say them.

Simon chuckled, "I've had enough to take the edge off," he replied.

"How about I get you to bed, hm?" I asked him, and shot a glance to Price, "You'll probably want to sleep forever," I remarked, and slumped his arm over my shoulders. The extra weight from one limb alone was enough to cause me to struggle with walking straight, let alone if I had to carry his entire weight. I can't even believe I'd nearly done that back in Las Almas.

He kissed the top of my forehead, "You're too good to me," he remarked, and I rolled my eyes before bidding John farewell. I wonder if it would be lonely for him tonight, if he'd be spending his last night here alone and by himself. I knew he'd lost his partner two years ago, though I can't recall her name, so seeing everyone else go off to their rooms must be a bit of a shitter.

"Simon, if you don't stop talking, I'm getting John to carry you back," I sternly whispered to him, and looked at John for one last time, "It's been good catching up with you!" I told him.

Simon turned back to the Captain, "You're a very good-looking man, John!" the Mancunian remarked, which caused a furious blush to creep across my face as embarrassment puddled deep within my body.

Without me having to say another word, John Price was instantly beside me, his hands gently moved me out of the way and he picked Simon up effortlessly. "Where to, love?" he asked me and I just wanted to walk off down the runway at that point. Hell, I'd commandeer an aircraft if it meant I could be away from these two men for five minutes.

But yet, his words played on my mind. I know love is a British term used towards women, of course I know that, but the way John Price said it? Fuuuuuuck me.