Contagious || Ghost x Fem

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

As you stepped into Ghost's office, a faint scent of paper and ink filled the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of brewing coffee. He was already immersed in his work, the focused furrow of his brows suggesting the seriousness of his task. You took a moment to observe the room, noting the clutter of papers strewn across his desk and the organized chaos of the investigation board adorning one wall. "Took you long enough," Ghost remarked without looking up, his voice a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Got distracted," you replied with a casual shrug, sauntering further into the room. "Of course," he said under his breath. His comment earned an eye roll from you, knowing his penchant for punctuality.

"Don't start," you warned, placing a hand on your hip in a playful gesture. Ghost's attention remained fixated on the documents before him as he resumed his work, the scratch of pen against paper filling the room with a steady rhythm. You couldn't help but notice the tension in the air, the unspoken exchange hanging between you both. "It's not usually like this," Ghost admitted with a heavy sigh, acknowledging the clutter surrounding him.

"I know it's not," you responded softly, your gaze lingering on the array of papers and photographs that adorned his workspace. It was a stark contrast to the usual orderliness you associated with him. "How would you know?" Ghost inquired, his tone laced with curiosity. "Who do you think left that plate of flautas for you?" you retorted with a teasing smirk, reminding him of your small act of kindness. The brief pause that followed allowed for a fleeting moment of connection, a silent acknowledgment passing between you before he returned his focus to his work.

As you took in the cluttered space, Ghost's terse demeanor didn't ease the tension. "So what did you need?" you asked, followed by him setting down his pen and meeting your gaze. "You will do your work in here for now," he declared. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Why? I was doing just fine on my own," you countered. "It's precaution," he explained, his tone clipped. "Oh, here you go suspecting me again," you retorted, a hint of annoyance creeping into your voice. He sighed heavily. "It's not you specifically. I can't risk someone finding your notes or files," he explained, his agitation palpable. "Yeah, whatever you say," you replied dismissively.

"Do you think I'm lying?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Didn't say that," you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. "Well, sit right there and do whatever it is you have been doing," he instructed, gesturing toward the couch in his office. "I need something to write on," you stated, your attitude seeping through your words. "You see the coffee table right there. Make use of it," he ordered, still engrossed in his work. Annoyed, you threw up a middle finger in his direction. Without looking up, he issued a warning, "Do that again and I'll break it."

With a resigned sigh, you pulled the small table closer and began your research. Scouring through the information available, you meticulously jotted down details about Shadow Company as a whole. Ranks, names of different soldiers, their affiliations, past missions—nothing escaped your scrutiny. Each piece of information was carefully cataloged, forming a web of connections and insights. The atmosphere in the room remained tense, the silence punctuated only by the scratch of your pen against paper and the occasional rustle of papers as Ghost worked diligently at his desk. Despite the strained relationship between you, there was a mutual understanding of the importance of the task at hand.

As you sifted through the documents and notes, your eyes caught on a peculiar detail—a series of transactions marked with cryptic codes and initials. At first glance, they seemed like routine financial records, but upon closer inspection, a pattern emerged. These transactions, seemingly innocuous on the surface, hinted at a clandestine operation within Shadow Company. Money was being funneled into obscure accounts, expenses logged for undisclosed purposes, and payments made to individuals with no apparent affiliation to the organization.

A sense of urgency gripped you as you realized the implications of what you had uncovered. It suggested a network of corruption and deceit within the ranks of Shadow Company, with funds being siphoned off for unknown agendas. But who was behind it? And to what end? You turned to Ghost, your heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and determination. "Ghost, take a look at this," you said, gesturing to the documents spread out before you.

Ghost glanced up from his work, his expression shifting from mild irritation to guarded interest as he took in the array of papers before him. His eyes narrowed slightly as he surveyed the transactions and cryptic notes you had uncovered. "What am I looking at?" he asked, his tone neutral but tinged with curiosity. "These transactions," you began, pointing to the series of entries you had flagged. "They don't add up. There's a pattern here—a pattern that suggests something more than just routine financial activity."

Ghost leaned in closer, studying the documents intently. His brow furrowed as he absorbed the information, his mind undoubtedly racing with the same questions and suspicions that were swirling in your own head. "I see what you mean," he murmured, his voice low. "These transactions... they're not standard procedure. They're too... discreet." You nodded, your pulse quickening with a sense of urgency. "Exactly. And look at these initials," you continued, tracing your finger along a particularly perplexing set of codes. "They don't match up with anyone in our records." A tense silence hung in the air as you and Ghost exchanged a knowing glance. It was clear that you had stumbled upon something significant—something that could shake the very foundation of Shadow Company.

"How did you get all this?" He asked skeptically, to which you shrugged an said, "I stole Price's office key." Ghost's gaze sharpened, a mixture of surprise and faint admiration flickering in his eyes. "You took Price's office key?" he repeated, his tone betraying a hint of incredulity. You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to downplay the daring move. "Yeah, well, he owes me a favor," you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the gravity of the situation. "Figured it was about time he paid up."

Ghost regarded you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're more resourceful than I gave you credit for," he admitted finally, a note of grudging respect coloring his words. You offered him a wry smile, feeling a surge of satisfaction at his begrudging acknowledgment. "Comes with the territory," you quipped, eager to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand. "But right now, we need to focus on what these documents are telling us." With a shared nod of agreement, you and Ghost turned your attention back to the papers spread out before you, ready to delve deeper into the mystery that lay at the heart of Shadow Company's clandestine dealings.

1151 words