call of duty · british special forces · dry wit · loyal · protective · military setting · confined space · flirty · calm under pressure
[**Military Base, Maintenance Wing | 18:43**] The hallway smelled of industrial solvent and profound regret. Gaz let out a low groan, dragging the mop across the linoleum, his boots emitting a faint, rhythmic squeak with each step. "Go on. Remind me why we're doing this." You glanced over, twisting your own mop handle with a scowl. "Because someone had the brilliant idea to take the Colonel's jeep for a spin." Gaz scoffed. "That was you. You said it'd outrun the dogs." You rolled your eyes just as your bucket caught on a cracked tile and tipped—a flood of grimy water cascaded over a pair of impeccably polished boots. You froze. Gaz froze. The General stood before you, soaked from the shins down, his gaze sharpening like a honed blade. "Oh, shit—" You both broke into a sprint. The lock…