For God knows how long, the only place she felt a hundred percent safe was in the arms of John Price.

Busting Alejandro out of imprisonment was everything but a smooth ride, and it was kind of fucked from the beginning. Their kiss took a toll on their relationship, or more like Ghost chose to ignore her entire being. Which naturally only pissed her off more, causing the two of them to not work as efficiently as before. And the tension between the two didn't go past the squad.

„What got you all mad, Wellsy?" Soap asked with a light tone, but if her vision wouldn't be clouded by rage towards their lieutenant, she could see the concern in his eyes.

„How's your leg, Sergeant Rora?" Rudy shot her a worried look when he noticed her limping. If it wasn't for his gentle nature, she would've slapped a bitch at the moment. Instead, she just glared daggers at the back of Ghost's head, hoping that something would fall on his thick skull.

And her fury fueled her, more than ever. She felt betrayed by him because he was the only man she dared to put some trust in, to let close. And he threw it out the fucking window and then decided it never even happened. And it pissed her off so bad, she could barely feel her newly stitched-up leg anymore. In some aspects, he helped her: if it wasn't for his stupidity, she could barely walk, but this helped her power through the prison break with evanescent pain.

But as soon as Price embraced her, she just couldn't hold herself anymore.

„Glad to see you again, little flower," he mumbled in her hair, the tears she so desperately tried to hold back finally breaking free. Rora buried her face in the crook of his neck, tightening her grip on him, a small smile playing on her lips at the sound of her nickname.

When they first met, Rora was just requited, planning on going for her first mission. And she was late for the briefing. That's when she bumped into Price with full force, still trying to twist her hair into a bun.

„Easy there, soldier!" he boomed, causing her to flinch away. But when their eyes met, his face softened. It was no soldier, alright: it was just a girl trying to appear as one. She was young and beautiful, but her eyes held such maturity, it was sad to see such a young woman needing to grow up so fast.

„I'm so sorry, Sir!" she blurted out, tying her hair up finally. It was messy and nowhere was professional, it made him smile. That's when he noticed the little flower tattoo behind her ear.

„Nice tattoo," he smiled, reaching out a hand to shake her hand. For a moment, she was taken aback by the gesture: usually, the men here didn't see her equal enough to shake hands with her. Especially the higher-ups, that would've been considered disrespectful. But with a smile, she shook his hand, gazing back into his friendly eyes.

And then Price found a new meaning for her tattoo: she was just a small little flower, trying to blossom between concrete blocks. And whenever he had the opportunity to help her be a better soldier, he grasped the opportunity. With time, Price became almost like a cool uncle, who had high expectations of her for her own good. He wanted to see her succeed while sharing his experiences and mistakes with her, so she wouldn't make them again.

To her, he was the father figure she was lacking in her entire life, and she couldn't be grateful enough for his guidance.

And he was the first person she called up when she quit military life. Rora didn't tell him the specifics, it was too traumatic to talk about. But a week later she got some great news. Lieutenant Daniels, who touched her during her sniper lessons and gave out the information of her room number, and Sergeant Garret and Corporal Solace who broke her door down, raped her, and gave her the scar on her face as a forever reminder of that night; all three of them were brutally beaten up. Daniels was in a coma for a few days, and rumor has it he never recovered from it.

Price had his own ways to find out the truth, and there was nobody in the world that could hide from his wrath, especially when it came to Rora.

„Did the boys treat you right?" Price asked when they finally parted, Rora desperately trying to wipe away her tears in an instant. Her gaze involuntarily wandered to Ghost, who was standing a few feet away from them, talking with Alejandro.

„Yeah," she nodded, forcing a smile. „MacTavish is a pain in the ass, though."

Price let out a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corner. Finally, her smile wasn't that forced.

„You found your man, then!" he reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigar.

„And you'll lose your lungs in a week, old man," she snatched his cigar away, earning a disapproving look from him. She only flashed him an innocent smile. „Who looks out for you, if not me?"

And while they joked around and caught up on their previous missions, she desperately tried to ignore Ghost and the weight of his gaze on her.

°•○●⸸●○•°

Rora huffed out another annoyed breath, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she watched the boys have fun. It was almost like a practice session, but all of them tried to be better than the others, and the whole thing turned into another competition for them. Sadly, she had to sit this one out because of her leg, and because none of them let her join.

„Just rest, flower, you'll need the energy," Price said.

„You're tough, Wellsy, but just sit this one out, 'kay? We'll play that cursed card game of yours after this," Soap ruffled her hair, and in response, she punched him in the ribs.

„Hermana," Alejandro groaned out when he saw her head towards the practice area. Grabbing her arm gently, he held her back, forcing her to look him in the face. „I'm worried for you. You seem out of it. Do you want to talk?"

And when she finally had enough of them, she sat down to a table, having the perfect view of their little competition, joking around and throwing each other around. She was busy frowning and throwing daggers with her eyes towards Ghost while balancing her own throwing knife on the table. The idea of chucking it towards him and seeing if his reflexes were really that good sounded more and more intriguing. Until she heard steps approaching her.

„I swear to God," she rolled her eyes, letting her throwing knife fall back on the tabletop. „If one of you motherfuckers lecture me again, I'll fuckin' throw hands!"

„I didn't plan on doing that," Rudy replied, a hurt expression taking over his face. Immediately, guilt took over her features.

„I'm so sorry, Rudy!" she ushered out, removing her leg from the seat next to her, and motioning for him to sit down.

„It's okay," he sent her a smile, placing down a cold glass of lemonade in front of her. There was even a piece of lemon in it. „Thought you could use this."

„That's so sweet of you," Rora gushed, now genuinely feeling like she should punch herself. Here she was threatening him, and he only brought her lemonade. „I feel so bad."

„It's fine, hermana, really," he chuckled, taking the seat next to her.

As she sipped on the lemonade, both of them watched the others train. Soap and Alejandro were throwing each other around for fun, Alejandro teaching some Spanish here and there for him. Their dynamic made her smile, it was truly adorable. There were some Vaqueros cheering their Colonel on, while some others were training beside them.

On the other side of the room, there were Price and Ghost, going at each other. From afar, it looked like they had some personal business, both of them lashing out with deadly precision, missing each other with their knives by only a few inches. But the ones who knew them could see the proud smile on Price's tired face, and the way Ghost circled him with such light steps, it was easy to tell that this was just a game for them.

It was weird seeing Price without his signature hat, but what was weirder to see Ghost without his mask. He still had a black balaclava concealing his features, but it wasn't the one he usually used. Rora could only recognize him from his predatory movements, and by the skilled way he flipped the knife in the air. And there were his eyes. Occasionally, he caught her gaze, feeling the flames reach for him across the room. He knew she was angry at him, and knowing how she held a grudge, Ghost doubted that she will forgive him soon.

So naturally, she got up and faced her problems, her biggest problem being Ghost. The two of them were too busy going at each other. Price let out exhausted huffs of breaths as he dodged Ghost's attacks, every next one cutting closer and closer. Just as she reached them, Rora stood a few feet away from them, watching as Price dodged another of his attacks, then slashed back at him. With the reflexes of a viper, Ghost used his free hand to punch the knife out of Price's grasp, catching it with the same hand mid-air, while his dominant hand flipped his knife in his grasp. With his fist curled around the handle, he leaped forward, and it seemed like he could easily stab Price in the neck, but stopped a few inches early.

Rora didn't realize when she held back her breath as she watched a tired but proud smile spread across Price's face.

„Good one, Simon," Price held his hands in the air, surrendering. Flipping Price's knife in his hand, Simon reached it towards him by the handle, handing it back.

Rora cleared her throat, earning both men's attention.

„Rora, you should-" Price began, but she ignored him, keeping her eyes trained on Simon. His eyes wandered over her body for a brief second, trying to be subtle, but she caught it.

„How did you do that? With the knife?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest, straightening her spine. Her posture could seem like it was harmless, but by the edged smile on her face, he knew it wasn't. She had some plan, he just didn't know what yet.

„You mean at the end?" Price asked, Rora nodding along.

„Can you teach me?" Rora asked, her voice way too sweet compared to her cold demeanor. Ghost's eyes flickered to Price, who only shrugged his shoulder, knowing that he can't hold the woman back.

„I'm not a good teacher," Simon stepped back, it being a clear no. But the glint in her eyes said he had no choice, and feeling the tension Price decided to get some rest. So, she reached into the side pocket on her good leg, pulling her own combat knife out.

„I probably had worse," she voiced, the edge of her smile sharper than her knife's. She took a defensive position, motioning for him to do the same. His eyes returned to Price's figure again before he did so.

They circled each other like vultures, each of them waiting for the other to attack first. She watched him fight before, she got to know his moves by now: she noticed that he barely had a weak side, but his right side was his dominant one. His movements were smooth and quick, he was quick in noticing his opponent's weakness: just like he knew Price had fairly bad stamina because of all the cigars he smoked. But she had the upper hand right now because he had no idea what her combat technique was.

Usually, Rora liked to wait around a little till she lashed out, going straight for the legs. She liked to pretend she was helpless in the beginning, surprising her opponent with her sudden attacks. She went for the legs because if she could get them on the floor, she had more chances of winning, knocking the hight difference card out. Then getting them into a chokehold with her legs was the winning point, not many could escape those.

But with her busted leg, she had to find something else to win against Ghost.

„Afraid I'll cut you, Lt.?" Rora taunted, tightening her grip on the handle. He cracked his neck, easing his shoulders into position. She couldn't stop her eyes from wandering over his body, noticing how his muscles tensed under his black long-sleeve shirt. He had no right to look good, not when she wanted to cut his throat.

„Like to see you try."

And with that, she lashed out. All of her attacks missed him by an inch, and compared to his previous tactics, she knew he was holding back. He flipped into defensive mode, while all the offense came from her side. Rora got frustrated pretty quickly, ignoring the way her wound burned up when she put too much weight on it.

„Stop holding back," she hissed, slicing at him. Again, he easily dodged it, angering her even more. And after that, he didn't hold back. That much, at least.

Within a minute, she got unarmed in the same way Price got. He showed it again how he did it, slower this time, and it was just enough for her to understand it. He was truly a shitty teacher, but she was a shitty student, too.

„Again," Rora commanded, snatching her knife back. Ghost stood there, his hands hanging by his side as he looked at her.

„You should let your leg rest."

„Again!" she ushered him, her tone dripping with venom. This was her way of taking her anger out on him since he was avoiding her like the plague. She felt all eyes on her in the room, gritting her teeth as she took her position once again. He couldn't back up now, with all of the men watching them.

He was scary when he wasn't holding back that much. He was precise, knowing exactly how far he can go to push her buttons but still not hurt her. Meanwhile, Rora had only one goal: to hurt him. She just wanted to see him suffer a little, to feel the same power he held over her.

For a moment, she let her mind wander, guessing how many men or women have seen his exact moves before their death. It was probably only a handful that could see another daylight after his attacks, maybe even less that could still speak about their experiences.

When he went to slice toward her weaker side, she twisted her upper body and slammed the back of her handle against his right shoulder, where she knew he had a fresh gash. Playing dirty was always fun.

A satisfied grin was plastered on her face when she heard his grunt, his free hand clutching as his shoulder. Flipping her knife in her hand, she started circling him again, looking for another weak spot. As he moved, putting more space between them, she noticed his left leg was a little slower than the right one, probably because of another injury. So she went for the back of his leg.

But Ghost was better than that: with the speed of lightning, he twisted around, and before she could reach him, his knife only stopped before her throat by two inches. Their eyes met, her cold pair holding captive his dark ones, the fire inside them reaching his core, setting him on fire.

The others clapping their hands was the only thing that broke their eye contact, her eyes flickering to Price's form, who was standing and clapping with a proud smile on his face. Rora found herself mirroring his smile.

„That was one hell of a fight, hermana!" Alejandro whistled, a few of his Vaqueros throwing compliments towards her in Spanish. She wanted to understand them so badly.

But she wasn't done.

With the same technique Ghost just showed her, she used the back of her hand to smack the knife out of his hand, catching it falling down mid-air and pulling her own knife to his neck. Her movement was slightly rigid and much less smooth than his, and she even cut her palm in the process, but the whistles grew louder and they cheered her on more, which only caused her smile to widen.

Ghost's eyes narrowed at her, disappointed in himself that he let himself get distracted by her. Because by no means was she harmless, she was just as skillful as they were. But she had an extra weapon against him: her fire fueling her, and the desire to prove herself. And her smile caused his eyes to flicker over to them, the sudden memory of her lips against his setting him in fire.

„Good one, Rora."

„Fuck you, Simon."

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i love rora sm and it's so fun to write about her and price

also, i just posted my soap fic, so if you're interested please check it out! i'd love to hear your thoughts about this chapter, too!