𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 || COD 𝐗 Y/N

-4-

"Soap? Are you in there?" I said as I knocked on his dorm. Moments after, Gaz opened the door in front of me. 

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" He seemed genuinely surprised to see me. "I thought you weren't permitted to come back here."

"I'm not, but I have to speak to Soap privately. It's really important."

He stared at me for a few seconds before nodding his head and yelling for Soap to come out before he went back to whatever he was doing before, but still sneaking glances at me.

Creep.

Soap then emerged, looking quite annoyed. "What is it?"

"Can I speak with you? Privately?" He looked me up and down in what seemed like disgust before rolling his eyes and stepping out the doorway. "Thank you. Now I'd like to talk with you without your attitude, please. So could you drop the childish behaviour? Thank you."

He looked surprised, but what the hell did he expect? For me to tolerate this disgusting behaviour? I can't even handle myself, sometimes.

"Now, you know what my secret is. I need to make sure that you keep it safe. I may not like it, but this is how it must go. The rules aren't up to me, nor are they up to you. I'd really appreciate it if you act like you know nothing about this, but right now, with you pouting and shit, it isn't really helping my problem." I stopped walking to face him. "So either you suck it up and accept the fact that a girl is better at your job than you are or leave me the hell alone. All clear? Understood? Good. Have an amazing, wonderful day." I gave him my most fake smile and walked away.

I bet he grew up with a golden spoon in his mouth.

Ignoring his yells calling my name, I went to the storage room to complete my assignment.

We had a delivery this morning while I wasn't here so nobody had checked to see if the new equipment is tolerable or not. Obviously, i have to do this job since people think it's best since I'm the only girl at base. Other than the medic, of course. But poor Martha is in her sixties, I don't think she should be handling a gun.

I gathered all the new weapons and took them to the training room which isn't really a training room because it's outside.

I placed all the weapons on a table and took a paper and pen to mark down which ones we keep and which ones we throw.

I took the first gun which was a double barreled shotgun o/u and tested it, aiming for a close target, obviously hitting the centre point. This functions properly so I noted it down and set it down, going for the next gun.

I went through six more guns before I started to realise that there was a crowd of soldiers watching from afar on the other side of the field. 

Creeps. 

I loaded the seventh gun, which was a rifle, but it was extremely faulty. Right when I pulled the trigger, the barrel became instantly hot, burning my hand. "Oh, my God! Shit!" I yelled as I flinched my hand back towards my body. "I'm such a dumbass! Jesus Christ, man."

I dropped the gun on the table and drew a large 'X' under its name. "No way in hell is anyone going to shoot that son of a bitch."

"Hey, Y/N, you okay? That seemed like quite a burn." Great. Gaz. He came up from the group of soldiers that were standing watching from a couple feet away.

"Never been better." I rolled my eyes and I held onto the red bruise that was performing on my palm.

"We saw what happened," he nodded to the men behind him, "I just wanted to make sure it was nothing serious. You know, if you need any help, I could take you to the medical wing."

"Gaz, I burned my hand. Not my feet. I'm not dying."

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Sure, okay. Well, I'll see you around?"

I nodded at him and went inside, carrying the guns I have checked already with me.

Then I headed to the medical wing.