A Living Shield (John Price x OC/Reader slowburn)

7) Old Friends

[Songs 🎵: Paint The Town Red - Doja Cat & Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ya - Dropkick Murphys & The Boys Are Back - Dropkick Murphys]

8pm. That was the time you had agreed on with Sergeant Garrick to meet for drinks. 

And right now it was 8:03pm as you were hurrying across base in the dark, trying to make up for lost time.

Shit shit shit shit-

You woke up about ten minutes ago, having fallen asleep after your shower. It was only supposed to be a short nap after today's trial, however three hours later you woke up feeling like you shifted in from a different plane of existence. Your mind groggy from the kind of sleep only a good nap brought.

You'd hurried out of bed, cursing to yourself as you sought your blow dryer. You went to bed with your hair still damp, so naturally it was a mess when you awoke. Not the first time and definitely wouldn't be the last. You dried it and braided it right after, opting to just try and hide the messy state it was usually in. Styling your hair wasn't your strong suit, so a loose braid was usually what you went for.

Not entirely comfortable with going in casual clothing, you decided for something in between. You were still on base and this wasn't the same as going out on the town. Your usual green cargo pants, black short sleeve tee and matching oversized black zip up hoodie, tied around your waist, would do. Not too casual but not fully in fatigues either.

You doubted your looks as you shot a glance at your mirror. Was this okay? Was there such a thing as being over or underdressed on base?

You were vastly overthinking this, but you hadn't gone out or done anything remotely fun in forever. When you did mercenary work, going out was a precarious and sensitive issue. Now you finally had the chance and you were doubting yourself over nothing.

What am I even getting self aware over? People will find something to comment on anyway. I have tits and an arse, it's the unavoidable combo.

Grunting to yourself in annoyance you grabbed your phone, wallet and keys. As you ran out the door you stuffed them into any available pockets on your cargo pants. Somehow it had still taken you too long to get ready and you were horrified to see you were running late.

God how am I bad at being a soldier when it's my job. Getting ready in 10 minutes used to be a luxury.

You bolted it across base, into the direction of what you believed to be the pub. You had passed it a couple of times but considering you never went in, there was always the chance you were horribly wrong. Knowing your luck you didn't want to think about that being the case.

Luck was on your side however, as you turned the corner of the mess hall and in front of you, you saw a clear gathering of people laughing and drinking outside what appeared to be a pub. And right next to the opened front door, as expected, stood Gaz. He had been patiently waiting for you despite you being late, looking lost in thought.

His frame was illuminated by the bright, cozy lighting coming from within as he stood in front of one of the windows. The warm glow made his skin look golden. He was dressed a bit more casual, now out of BDU and without his hat or sunglasses. Still as handsome as you remember.

You slowed down your pace as you switched over to a jog, instead of full on running. Gaz had spotted you a couple of seconds ago, his eyes recognizing your form as you ran up to the front of the building. More than likely you had looked a little disheveled in your haste, because his face betrayed what you had been thinking. You looked like an idiot in your panic to make it on time.

"That's gonna cost you a pint, sergeant. Another five minutes and it would've been something stronger."

You wanted to retort, but needed to catch your breath first. You had run way too hard and granted, you were only five minutes late, but your lungs weren't happy about the sudden exercise.