A week was a long time. New angle could mean anything. The non-answers he had left the room with followed him down the hall and out into the bright sun. He ran again, longer this time. Until he was tired.
"Come outside with me, it's warm today." Leeanne leaned over MJ's shoulder where she sat and read at the breakfast table.
The blonde woman had become her friend over the past few weeks, first healing her, and then keeping her busy, and now pulling her along on everyday things. Rossi must be bored too, with no one seeing any action. MJ laid her book down. The copy of The Hobbit was cracking at the spine. She used a piece of her napkin to mark her spot.
"Sure."
MJ knew Leeanne probably wanted a cigarette and she needed the vitamin D terribly. They walked out through the garage, turning and exiting through a room where the walls were lined with weapons and ammunition. MJ tried not to gape at them. The door led to a small patio. More vehicles were parked outside, blocking the view of the desert beyond the fence.
"What's on your mind?" Rossi asked her.
MJ looked over at her, squinting in the sun. She wasn't sure she should say. "Just another day in paradise."
The medic laughed. "I suppose so." She smiled softly. "You won't be here forever, you know."
MJ shrugged, turning her face back up to the sun. "It's not so bad. And I don't know where I would go. I'll ride it out as long as I can."
When she opened her eyes again, she could see someone running by, beyond the vehicles. It wasn't unusual, she had learned, for the soldiers to use the yard to workout on nice days. His face was covered.
"Hm." Leeanne huffed, her cigarette between her lips.
"He runs with that thing on." MJ mumbled.
She cocked her head. "He's consistent."
They sat in silence a moment longer as he turned the other direction. "What do you know about him?"
Rossi looked her up and down for a moment. "Simon Riley is a battered man. He's not your romance novel man in uniform." MJ glanced at her, shielding her eyes from the sun. "He's a good soldier. By the book. Good luck finding anything else to speak of."
MJ just nodded. John Mactavish had similar sentiments about the masked man. Every time someone told her there was nothing else to know about him, she was determined to prove them wrong. She had no right to him at all, to his time, to his story, but she was drawn to it all the same. She had replayed their conversation from the night before over and over in her mind. Not because it had given her anything of substance, but because she liked talking to him. No one else had sought her out, no one else had cared if she was there or not. Or why.
He hadn't trusted her at first, she knew that. She knew all of his little conversations were to feel out if she was lying or spying. She practiced law, she knew interrogation techniques when she saw them. She didn't mind. She had nothing at all to hide.
Price caught them in the garage on their way back in. He was taller than she had thought, and less intimidating than she had hoped.
"Mariana." He smiled as though they were old friends. "I was hoping we could speak."
She guessed his qualms about her speaking to anyone but Ghost had been resolved. "Of course."
"This way."
He guided her back into the compound and to his office, shutting the door behind them. They were alone. He motioned to a chair across from his desk and she took it.
"Lieutenant Riley has filled me in on the information you have shared with him." She nodded, letting him continue. "It has been very helpful."
"Of course." She said.
"I know it must be hard for you, being in limbo like this."
She decided in that moment that she should act as though she knew nothing at all. She didn't, only that Simon believed they were being misled somehow. Maybe she could get to the bottom now, with sympathy, like she had told him the night before.
"Yes." She folded her hands in her lap and looked at them. "It is."
"I know what you went through was terrible, you must know we plan to bring those responsible to justice."
Tears, completely sincere, burned at the back of her throat. There was no justice for what had been done. Only stopping them before it could happen to someone else. "Thank you."
She raised her tear-choked eyes as he spoke again. "Information about your rescue will not be released just yet. Not until we know more."
Cheap, calling it a rescue. It was an accident. "I understand."
"Do you have questions?" He asked.
She hadn't expected him to ask that. She swallowed. "I have experience practicing law, I have governmental clearance. If there's anything I can do to help—"
He held up a hand. "There's no need for that. Just lay low and let us do our jobs."
She looked down at her hands again. "Alright."
"Now. Your father had ties to the cartel, correct?"
She snapped her eyes to him with a frown. "Not ties, no. He was searching for evidence. To convict."
"To convict who, exactly?"
She searched her mind for some reason why he would ask that and came up empty. "I don't know. He died."
The man stared her down. "I see." He stood, walking to the door. She followed him. "If you think of anything else, let me know."
"Of course. Thank you." She dipped her head in respect and spent the rest of the day in her room, wishing she could pick up her phone and call her dad like she had every other time her life fell apart.
She didn't leave again, even though it crossed her mind to wonder if Simon might be sitting in his usual spot. Her heart ached and she didn't have the energy to ask him if he had known that conversation was going to happen.
The next day, she ate breakfast late and sat in her room again. She felt more tired than usual. Her conversation with Price had been confusing, she didn't know why he asked what he did so abruptly after making a point not to let anyone but Simon speak to her previously. By afternoon she got uncomfortable and paced back and forth, waiting for dark so she could go and find the ghost. She needed him to tell her not to worry. That she was safe. That she wasn't a prisoner here.
Darkness fell, she slipped on a jacket and went outside, the path familiar now. The moon was three quarters full, and she could see it setting on the horizon, a deep gold. She stared at it for a moment before turning.
He sat in his usual spot, a lit cigarette in his gloved hand, the mask covering his face. The way it exposed his eyes made her feel exposed in that moment. They were intensely on her. She swallowed and went to sit next to him without a word. He watched her the entire way.
She held out her hand and motioned for him to give her the cigarette. He glanced at it for a second before handing it over. She knew his mouth hadn't touched it as she took a long drag. She hadn't smoked in a very long time and it tasted good in a sickening, painful way. It burned her throat until her voice finally found its way out.
"I spoke to Price." His eyes were back on her in an instant, questioning. "He found me. Yesterday morning." He searched her eyes and for the first time since she had met him, she wished she could see his face. She couldn't read him.
"What did he say?" She was startled by his voice. He hadn't seemed like he was going to answer.
She flicked the end of the cigarette before handing it back to him. He took it gently. "To lay low and let you do your jobs."
Simon faced back toward the desert. He knew that wasn't it. He could tell that she was upset. He just waited.
"He accused my father of having ties to the cartel."
Simon shook his head slightly. "What?"
"I don't know. I don't know why he said that to me, Simon." His name in her mouth sounded sweet in spite of the bitter words surrounding it. "I told him, no, that my father was trying to find evidence to convict. He asked me who." She leaned back against the building. "And I don't know. He failed to tell me before he lost his life."
He looked at the darkening sky for a while. He knew why Price asked that. He knew. He just didn't know if he should scare her with it. He looked at her and she was looking up at him with hopeless eyes. Price had dealt her a blow, and he didn't want to know if it was on purpose.
He took a breath to speak, but hesitated again. She caught it though. "What is it?"
He dropped her gaze. "I think.." He flicked the cigarette himself before dropping it and smashing it under the toe of his boot. "I think he's trying to determine your viability as bait."
Mariana let her eyes fall closed. Bait. What a small, insignificant thing. "It makes sense, really. It might work."
"No." She snapped her eyes open at the harshness of the word, but she didn't look at him.
"I mean, there's a lot I don't know, but if they want me and it draws them to you—"
"No, Mariana." He sat up straighter and looked down where she sat next to him. "Stop thinking about it."
They sat in silence again. She had told him everything and he knew it. She was just restless, and confused. Using her as bait would be unethical, it would require them to lie about finding her. It wasn't an option.
"He said they wouldn't tell anyone yet about my rescue."
He chuckled. The sound snaked it's way down the back of her neck. She had never heard it before and she wished she could bottle it up. "Was it not a rescue?"
"Because you chose it to be."
"Mm."
"He told me to come to him if I remember anything else. Should I not be speaking to you?"
He straightened his legs, crossing his ankles casually. "You're free to speak to whoever you please."
She nodded.
"We leave again Thursday morning."
She looked at him for a long time, then. He had offered that information without her asking. She could see him so plainly, despite the mask. It hid nothing, even though she knew he intended for it to. He was just a man, not a ghost, not something dangerous. He was terrifying, deadly, but not to her. He wasn't a threat in this heartbeat, just a battered man.
"Where will you go this time?"
"Classified."
"So it's a real one, then."
"It's a real one."
They sat in silence again until her hands began to get cold, even in the pockets of her coat. When he stood to go inside, he reached out his hand and took hers, helping her stand. He could feel it was cold and he wished he had held it longer.
The next night, they met again, only this time they didn't speak at all. She smoked his cigarette and watched the sky until he went inside and they parted ways. They didn't speak but he kept track of every breath, every movement, wondering if she knew how quickly he would deny her be used in any way by those who didn't give a shit if she went back to her life or not.
The night before he left, she went out to the spot, fully expecting that she would be alone. Knowing that he would be preparing, hopefully sleeping. The previous night had been a silent goodbye. She held to that. The moon should be close to full and standing outside the door, she became annoyed that she couldn't see it. It must be on the other side of the building. She stood there for a moment longer before making the decision to walk back through the base and go out the other side to watch it.
It was late, and as expected, she met no one along the way. It was quiet, too quiet, and she refused to feel uneasy about the mission she knew nothing about. The first since she had arrived, it could be days long or weeks. She had no way of knowing.
She walked through the garage, careful not to trip over anything or make any unnecessary noise. She had only been this way once and it occurred to her that the door to the room full of weapons might not be unlocked. She stood outside of it for a moment, contemplating whether trying to open it was worth the risk. She reached for the handle and it swung open. Carefully, quietly, she turned and let it click closed.
When she turned to walk through the room to the door on the far side, she jumped, clapping a hand over her mouth. There was someone else in the room, in the near darkness, sitting with his back to her. She felt the back, the sandy brown hair should be unfamiliar, but when he moved, she knew.
"Simon." She whispered in embarrassed desperation, turning back to the door just as he turned to look over his shoulder.
He wore no mask. She closed her eyes and fumbled with the doorknob.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were in here." She was breathless, unable to let herself back out fast enough. She dare not open her eyes. She could hear him stand and move toward her.
"MJ?" Her nickname clanged through her empty mind. He had never used it before. "What are you doing down here?"
"I was going outside." She still faced the closed door, but she had given up on opening it. "I didn't know you were here."
He had stopped. "It's okay, Mariana. You can turn around."
"Your mask." Maybe he had it close by.
"I don't mind." She didn't know why she had expected him to sound different, but he didn't. His familiar voice was soft.
"No, Simon. It's alright." She put her hand on the door again, just as his landed on her shoulder. "I see you just fine with the mask. This should be your choice."
"It is my choice." He swallowed. "You're afraid."
"Of course not." She shook her head sharply. "You don't scare me."
He didn't speak again. She was sure he must be able to hear her heart pounding as he gently turned her back toward the room, back toward him.
Her eyes were level with his chest, covered by the black hoodie she had gotten used to seeing him in. He smelled like soap and cigarette smoke. His hand didn't leave her shoulder as she slowly raised her eyes to his face. The moon she had sought lit the room through two small windows and she could see his sharp jaw and full lips with no problem at all. He was flawless. She was disappointed for the rest of the world, that they didn't get to see this for themselves.
Her mind still empty, she clutched the front of his shirt with one hand and ran the other along a scar that cut across his left cheek. As if she had any right to touch him at all. He didn't pull away from her.
"Beautiful." She breathed.
The hand on her shoulder slid up the back of her neck to her hair and he bent, stopping with his lips just inches above hers. Her wide, green eyes had found his and stuck there. He watched them close as he bent the rest of the way, kissing her.
They stayed perfectly still for a moment, each afraid that the other might simply combust. When Mariana raised slightly onto her toes to reach him, he let himself wrap his other arm around her and hold her there. She parted her lips for him and let him taste her. He was gentler than she could have imagined, testing her reaction. He didn't know what had possessed him to kiss her, to think that he had the right to. He could have stopped himself, they both knew that without a single doubt. But he had wanted to steal that quiet strength from her so badly, to taste the humor on her tongue, to watch the wonder come back into her eyes like it had the night she had gone outside to watch the sky.
He stepped forward, pushing her back against the door she had been unable to escape through, careful not to lay his weight against her. She found his eyes again as he pulled away, taking a sharp breath. Her hand was still balled up in his sweatshirt and she didn't let go.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" She asked, breathless again.
He smiled at her. "Shouldn't you?"