Fighter (Simon Ghost Riley!)

Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo

"What did she say to you?"

Prices voice rang through his dim office, papers strung messily across the large wooden desk in the middle of the room, it seemed no matter how often adder found him tidying the desk it always ended up back like this.

"Nothing sir" adder spoke, her hands clasped behind her back as she stood in front of her captain. He sighed heavily resting on the desk.

"Don't lie to me Sargent" he spoke looking at her under his brow.

"I'm not sir" she spoke keeping her eyes off the captains face. She didn't want to talk about what widow had said to her during their 'spar'. She didn't want people to know the mention of her name sent shivers down her spine because it reminded her of everything she spent so long running from.

"Adder. Cut the bullshit. We all saw her whisper something in your ear. And we all saw the visible reaction you had" he spoke factually, pushing himself up from the desk.

"It was nothing sir" she stuck to her story, nothing happened. If she didn't admit it happened, it didn't.

"Dismissed" price sighed giving up on the girl.

Adder paced around her room, the conversation her and price had before Christmas playing in her mind. She sighed heavily throwing herself onto her small bed.

She laid on her back facing the ceiling, her mind running wild with thoughts. How did widow know about her? About her mother and father? Did she know what adder had done to them?

Adder groaned loudly rolling off her bed knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep. She needed something else to think about. Anything else.

She quickly grabbed a towel and her headphones deciding the gym was the best place to get her mind of everything.

Simon gently approached the small town house, he sighed deeply fumbling in his pockets trying to find his keys, he sighed heavily as he found the sneaky buggers hidden deep in his jean pocket. The beer numbing his senses to the British winter, he chuckled lightly shaking his head thinking of the girl who all night was draped over him, slurring into his ear about what she would do to him if she took him home. How she wasn't the vanilla kinda girl you take to meet your parents.

"Ya still got it" he mumbled to himself as it took him a few seconds to jam the key into the lock. He unlocked the door to his home and stumbled inside as quietly as he could in his slightly drunken state. The woman's red lipstick still imprinted on his cheek.

He breezed past the living room into the kitchen, he yanked the fridge door open a little harder than he intended grabbing the milk and drinking straight from the carton. He let out an obnoxious burp wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before returning the milk to its home.

He tried to stay quiet careful not to wake his young nephew, who was most likely dead asleep upstairs. He rested against the fridge for a moment, trying to sober up before attempting to tackle the stairs to his bed. His head resting against the door as he smiled peacefully. For once this was going to be a good Christmas.

He frowned slightly when he inhaled, the smell of burning meat filled his nose. He opened his eyes noticing the oven was still on, the dim light illuminating the kitchen. He sighed smirking shaking his head slightly. God his mother was forgetful around this time. He lazily pushed himself from the fridge and towards the oven flicking it off. He frowned slightly opening the door. Black smoke fell from the oven, as it cleared it revealed what used to be their Christmas dinner. Now nothing but a shrivelled Burnt block.

"Mum?!" Simon called closing the door again. The house was silent. He checked his watch. Only eleven. He frowned slightly making his way back through the house and upstairs.