Dogs of War

Chapter 35

Dinner didn't reveal any further secrets, instead both of us preferring to eat in a companionable silence, the near empty base a soothing respite from the constant hub bub that followed when the whole team was together.

The next following days were busy as we tried to provide support to out team still on the ground, Prices frustrations amping everyone up. Our own failures on display in big neon letters. Archiels arrival every couple of days a welcome break from sitting in the dark room feeling useless.

Today though, I perked up as I heard the promised words over the headset. They were coming home. The mission itself had been a failure. Makarov was once again in the wind, and not even a konni soldier in sight for them to capture as a prisoner.

Ghost's body posture relaxed, a slightly movement even I barely caught, a sharp comparison to my form laying across the floor, bored out of my mind. Ghost had been doing all the work, and even though he'd offered me an out weeks ago, I'd decided staying with him was more important. It was a good thing I could sleep anywhere; I was certain Ghost appreciated my presence at his feet despite his protests.

A feeling of relief and joy radiates through my body as I stand up languidly with a stretch and a groan. I listen as Ghost issues the commands for the ex-fil helo to pick up our boys.

"I'm taking time off." The words ring out through the room, and I almost dismiss them thinking he's talking to Price about being on the overwatch comms. I turn, realising he's looking at me, the headset already sitting on the bench, computers all turned off.

"Oh?" I utter, confused. "Time off where?"

"That doesn't make sense, mutt. But I'm going home."

"Home? Why would you take time off to go home? Price let's us go home whenever. Hell, he's joined us on occasion, got his own room and everything."

I watch as he facepalms with a sigh. "Not our home. My home."

I feel almost like a love struck girl in the honey moon phase as he says 'our home' elated to know he views the house I bought as a home. Then it registers what he said. "You have a home?" I cross my arms, the spark of irritation building up. "I thought we said no secrets between us, and now I'm finding out you have a home." Is the hill I'm standing on a ridiculous one to die on? Probably, but after the meltdown the other day, I'm curious to see where this leads.

"What? You thought I was homeless this entire time?"

The question pulls me up as I really think about it, and shake my head. "No, I just thought the base was your home."

"Mutt," Ghosts surprised laughter jolts me from my souring mood. "You thought I'd want to live here, permanently?"

I shrug, a flush creeping along my skin under my fur. "You're a single work-a-holic man. Do you blame me for thinking you'd rather save your money or spend it all on that expensive whiskey you buy?"

"While I can't fault you for your logic, I do in fact have a home. When Price and the boys get back, I'm going to Manchester."

I nod slowly. "Ok. How long are we going for?"

"We?" he says, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Who said anything about you joining me mutt?"

I stare at home, my expression bland. "The contract you signed agreeing to be my handler."

"I might just decide to leave you here. I mean Johnny will be here, I'm sure he'll miss you after weeks apart."

I cross my arms and roll my eyes. "I love Johnny dearly, but he's not my handler. It won't hurt me to go longer without spending time with him."

"But it'll hurt you to spend time without me."

I knew it was a statement, but I answer anyway. "You know the answer to that, Ghost. So, how long am I packing for?"

"Two weeks. Bring something nice."

I frown at him, tapping my foot. "I'm a hybrid soldier. I don't have anything nice."

He facepalms again, and another groan sounds out. "I forgot. Perhaps we should ask Dr. Cooper to organise with his team a suit or dress that hides your features." He eyes me over speculatively. "Why are you so damned tiny? I'll order you a nice suit. I'm sure we can get you a children's size."

"Hey!" I protest, annoyed at the comment.

"No offence, but mutt, there are ten year old boys bigger than you."

I grumble at him, pouting and annoyed knowing he's correct.

"I'll make some changes to the pants to accommodate your tail when they come in."

"Where are we going anyway?"

"That, I will tell you when you need to know. But you need nice clothes anyway."

I grumble again, starting to feel like a petulant child. Which, according to Ghost I was at least the right size for.

Somehow, an hour and a half later, I found Ghost in the kitchen with a pair of dress pants and a sewing kit. His large hands deftly held the sewing needle as he sewed up the cuts he'd made to accommodate my tail. I saw a couple of bags on the bench, and pulled some items out.

"How much did you buy?" I ask, astounded as a soft velvety coat flows through my fingers. It's a deep forest green and I know when I put it on, it's going to be close to running across the floor when I walk. I tug it on and find out I'm right, but I realise that it hides my tail, and if I button it at the front, it hides the awkward shape of my legs too.

"A few things," Ghost mutters as he concentrates on the pants in his hands. I'm surprised at how quickly he'd gotten everything delivered. And then wondered where'd it all came from. I pull out a button down shirt in a gunmetal grey colour and instantly fall in love with the grey and green colour combo. I pull out the matching grey pants and know from the quality of the material these are nice nice clothes. I put the shirt, coat and pants aside neatly and pull out the next item. A pair of black gloves with a fur lining. I pull them on and the instant warmth radiating over my hand has me grinning like it's Christmas. The entire set already had me feeling very debonair and feeling as though I should have a classy cane to go with it all.

Last in this particular bag is a mask of the same grey colour of the clothes. I hold it, looking confused at Ghost. Fortunately he knows why I'm confused.

"After COVID, a lot of suit shops started selling matching masks. Now a lot of people are more comfortable wearing masks for medical, cosmetic or personal reasons so they kept it up. I've been going to them for years because of it."

"Uh-huh. And why suits instead of dresses?"

I see the mask move as he smirks at me. "Dresses reveal too much. We'd have to dress you like a nun to cover you completely. A suit is less conspicuous, and more convenient."

I huff out in irritation. "Thought as much to be honest." I glance at his hands, bare of his own gloves as he finishes his stitch, revealing a black pair of pants in the same style as the grey I'd been holding. Except this pair has a hole cut into them, a little buttoned strap ready to lock my tail into place. The bag next to him containing a no doubt matching set of clothes to go with the pants.

"Where did you learn to sew?" I ask, hands reaching the other bag, and pull out a black button down top, and a deep almost burgundy red coat this time. No gloves, but matching mask to the coat, rather than the shirt and pants.

"I made my own masks," Ghost says, reaching for the grey pants, prepared to do the same thing to them as I admire the coat and mask combo. I decide I can't be bothered to wait and pull off Soaps hoody I'd been wearing.

Ghost glances at me before focusing back on his task. "A bit of warning next time before you decide to just strip down to your fur would be appreciated next time."

"Blah blah blah," I taunt back, pulling the pants up and buckling the front and the tail piece securely. I'm surprised at how well they actually fit me, the leg length brushing against my paw, very close to the same level as the coat. I turn my chest and head to peer down my backside and grin, happy with the effect. I slide the top on, leaving the top two buttons undone and sliding the coat on. Looking down at myself, I feel almost as if I could go out in public and pass as more than just another soldier with blood on my hands.

Ghost just grunts in approval, his focus more on the work in his hands than on me. I take the red mask and the gloves, putting them on as I make my way to the bathrooms to check myself out in the mirror.

With my ears tucked against my head, and my hair mussed up to cover them, one could almost pretend I was completely human if you didn't look hard enough. Certainly, the visually stunning effect of the red on the black would surely distract anyone from looking at how I didn't bend quiet right, or how my walk was graceless and unnerving. I turn, head over my shoulder as I admire myself from the back, hands smoothing along my coat in excitement.

I go skipping back to the kitchen, absolutely delighted with the fit. Ghost however finally peers up at me and frowns. "Haven't you ever worn a suit before?" He stands up, and almost reminiscent of my mother when I had met her disapproval in my dress standards, Ghost begins tucking the shirt in appropriately, and doing the top two buttons up.

He runs an approving eye over me before nodding. "Looks good, mutt. No one would ever know you're a freak of nature." His small smirk leaves me stunned before I take off my mask, ball it up and throw it at him.

"Hey! I bought you that mask. Don't be a cunt." My shoulders slump and I scowl, moving to retrieve the slip of material from where it landed.

"Good. Now go prepare."