DECEPTION. ("Soap" MacTavish x Reader.)

chapter eleven.

The night air brushed softly against Y/n's skin as she approached the building. The safe house. Soap was supposedly waiting for her already as she glanced at her watch and noticed she was five minutes late.

Swinging the door open, Y/n spotted Soap leaning against the wall, shadows covering his torso and up. 

"Ah, you're just a tad late," Johnny greeted in a plain voice, his intentions were to be funny. Y/n just scoffed in reply, grateful this started off so simple.

"Yeah, I tried my best to arrive on time." She replied, getting closer until they were in closer proximity, still unable to see his face. "I'm just gonna say it- I don't have any information to share. I don't want yours or Prices time wasted." She didn't miss a beat.

Soap sighed then pushed himself off the wall, "Well, we weren't really expecting you to have the whole case solved just by one day." He shot back. "No offense- I'm sure you're quite the expert, but even if you told us the layout of the building, that would be huge."

Guilt flooded Veil's chest. "I didn't even get a tour, they just threw me to the first floor to guard. I'm assuming after a few days they will start to open up, but I'm not exactly going to graduate from first to third floor overnight." She expected this but experiencing it gave her more of a humbling emotion than she thought. She assumed he was listening to her words by how intently his eyes were settled on her face, but she was wrong.

"Who did that to you?"

Blinking in confusion, Y/n replied, "Did what?"

Y/n was caught off guard when Soap got closer, not uncomfortably close but definitely close, his eyebrows narrowing ever so slightly. "That bruise up there on your face. Did they hurt you for you to get in?" His voice was normal, but there was a sense of urgency in it which confused L/n. He really shouldn't care. His colleagues get wounded seriously every day and some even die, but a bruise on her face was what concerned him?

"Soap, can you stay focused?" She tried to revert the conversation but backed down when he narrowed his eyebrows even more. "I, um. I think his name was Pueblo H... something. The other man on guard with me. It was because he wanted to take a potty break on duty."

"Well you gave him one back, didn't you?" The bruise is what Soap meant, his voice low and almost rumbly.

Y/n laughed but it was more in a shocked way. "Right, if I did that then our mission would be over first day. I can't get into any fights if we want to win this. And no, they didn't hurt me when I got accepted in, they really just asked me questions. Look, I get it if you care about what happens to me because I'm new to you and you have the instinct to help out, but I promise you I don't need your protection. I got this all under-"

"Alright, alright I got it. Just unsettling to see." Soap dismissed, breaking eye contact. "So... you have no information at all?"

"Right. Only thing I got is the name of the men. Diego is who allowed me to join and he's bald... that's all I know, to be honest. Sorry." This was disappointing news, but Y/n noticed how Soap's lips flickered up a bit, almost to a smile, but his face remained close to stoic.

The man gave a short nod of acknowledgment, looking at the wall behind her. They were silent for a good minute. "Alright. To be honest, that drive was not worth it to just go back right away, so sit down. Let's talk." He pulled aside a chair for himself, settling down into it comfortably. Once Y/n expressed her confusion, he motioned toward a chair. "Come on. We're working together through this, might as well get to know each other a bit."

Y/n listened and agreed mentally, grabbing a chair and dragging it in front of Soaps chair across a small table that was unoccupied with not a single stool. She glanced at her watch. Around 37 minutes to spare. She then looked back to Soap, trying to find any questions to start with.

"Where are you from?" She asked, which by now she should have learned her lesson. "Actually, let me guess. California." To make her question sound less dumb by giving a dumber answer, which was obviously made for a chuckle, Y/n succeeded in making MacTavish crack a grin. Why was that her go-to answer, she didn't know.

"You're funny. From Scotland. Though California does sound beautiful. That's the one with the beach and all, right?"

Impressed by this third-grader knowledge, Y/n gave Soap the advantage of being proud by giving him a nod and praising his memory. "Yes. I visited there once, not the most perfect place if I'm honest. My favorite place I've been to is probably Iceland."

"How about in the states?" Soap seemed interested, but Y/n couldn't tell if this was to waste their free time or what.

"Before I answer, where's your favorite place you've been?" She placed her elbow on the surface of the table, propping head up by placing her chin in her palm, her eyes settled on Soap. The man also go comfortable by leaning back in his seat.

Soap gave a hum in thought, "That's a hard one... you know, it seems kind of like I'm picking favorites, but Scotland is probably the place I'd have to say is my favorite. I've had the luck of growing up in and seeing the beauty in all around there." He soaked in how she grinned and nodded, resuming his talking, "So. Favorite state?" He reasked the question, and she gave her response, the topic bouncing around gently until they slowly fell out of the rhythm.

Suddenly Y/n remembered something. "Oh right, you like to draw, right?" Her memory flicked back to how he was sketching in his little book on the trip. "Did you draw some more on the way to come visit me?" She grinned at him to encourage an answer.

"Can't say there was anything noteworthy that I did." He really was a bit shy with his art. Maybe he was bad.

"Have you been drawing for a while?" She asked, her eyes flickering to his relaxed knuckles that lay against his thigh, meeting his gaze once more. He didn't seem troubled by how her eyes moved across him, flirtatious or not. Which it was not.

Soap nodded slowly, returning the same eye movement she gave him, but his gaze was slower and more experienced, causing her stomach to get light. This wasn't flirting, but something about it had a certain tension she couldn't pinpoint. "Since I was a young lad."

Y/n had to purse her lips to stop herself from laughing. "A wee lad." She mocked in an exaggerated accent that matched his, lowering her voice to add to the wound.

"Oh ha ha," Soap sarcastically retorted, looking away with an annoyed face but it was a mutual understanding he was adding to the joke. He was trying to be sentimental and got matched with her lovely response.

After Y/n chuckled in her chest for a solid second or two longer, she slowly dropped her smile but her eyes were still lit. "No, but seriously, has it been since high school, or?- Sorry, secondary school as you call it, right?"

"Look at you with your diversity." He looked at the table between them as his eyes held concentration, searching for when he started. "Ah, yeah, I'd say around then. Though I was more of a football guy back then, drawing was just a small hobby." He met her gaze again.

Not surprised but now more interested, Y/n perked up a bit. "I can see it-" Him being a jock, "what position? Let me guess, you were a quarterback?" He just narrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly. "Or the tackling guy?"

"None of those? Do you even know what football is?" 

What a dumb question. Now Y/n returned the astonished look. "Soap, what? Of course I do, it's the sport where you throw the ball to the other side of the field." She replied in almost a hushed tone, too shocked by his abrasive question. It almost seemed like they were mocking each other, but for some reason how they interacted about the subject stunned both of them.

"No!" Soaps eyes widen and so did his confused smile. "It's where you kick it around the field- you seriously don't know your sports?" His voice went a bit higher at the end just to express his genuine pain.

Y/n gasped, her mouth hung open in shock. "Soap... you mean soccer, right? That's soccer!"

"Noo jist haud on!" Oo some Scottish. "You call it soccer? That's just disgusting- it's called football for a reason! You're just trying to get me annoyed so I can leave, huh?" He wasn't serious but damn was he defensive over soccer... football? Whatever.

"Let's just change the topic before one of us gets hurt, ok?"

"No way, we have this free time so let me educate you."