War Dog

Chapter 38

A/N: TW: torture/mentions of SA/worse language than usual.

One of the benefits to being Ghosts War Dog and already a part of the team is that I got to sit comfortably in his car while he drove along to the designated base camp for the testing while everyone else was crammed onto one of the buses. The other benefit was that I didn't have to undergo the rigorous selection process. I only had to undergo one very specific component of it. 

Soap sat in the front with Ghost as well, his addition had been last minute to keep an eye on me while Ghost was busy busting ass with the rest of the recruits. Price didn't like the idea of leaving me alone and trapped with a bunch of men who tortured recruits professionally with no one who could interfere on my behalf. Especially after news about Cupcake would have likely spread.

I lay down in the back of the back on my side reading a book I'd snagged from Ghosts small collection on battle tactics. 

"Och lass, bit spoiled ain't ya?" Soap smirked from the front as he teased me. 

I sniff, miffed that he's interrupted my reading. I put the book down and stare up at Soap from my spot. "You're just jealous Ghost won't let you lay in the back."

"Maybe I am. Isn't it unsafe? I mean with the way Ghost drives, you'll get flung out the window. You don't even have your belt on."

I tug at the belt slung over my hips locking me in. "I'm seatbelted. More likely to be dissected though, but I'm belted in."

"Incorrigible. Why are you laying down anyway?"

"I don't have anywhere to put my tail. It gets uncomfortable after a couple of hours sitting on it, and we'll be driving all day, so I lie down when I can."

"Well, I don't have a tail, so I can't argue that, I suppose."

I stick my tongue out at Ghost and he returns the favour.

"That reminds me." Ghost pipes up from the driver's seat and I groan, I can feel the giddiness radiating from him and I just know it's going to be one of his awful jokes. "What has two legs and bleeds?"

"What?" Soap asked hesitantly.

"Half a dog." 

I reach forward and slap Ghost on the arm. "Really Ghost? You won't be making dead dog jokes when I'm half splattered on the road."

"Dunno, making morbid jokes would be better than crying. Though I have no intentions of crashing, so doesn't matter anyway, little Wolf."

"Yeah little Wolf," Soap sneered mockingly. I punched him in the shoulder, the punch weak because I was too lazy to move far enough to get any real power. 

"Och, Mo Uilebheist," His tone a fake hurt in a very thick scottish accent as he recoils, rubbing the spot I'd punched.

"What did you just say Johnny?" Ghost asks bemused. 

"I called her a monster, is what I just said." 

"Johnny..." Ghost responds exasperated. 

"Actually, clarification, he called me his monster. Emphasis on his."

"Really just?" Ghost cocked his eyebrow, eyes still ahead watching the road. 

"Mhhhmmm." 

"You really took that insult and turned it into a term of endearment?" 

"I mean, how can anyone use it as an insult when it's used as a constant endearment? Doesn't sting quite so bad this way."

"Makes sense. In a round about kind of way," Ghost mused but didn't question it further, clearly satisfied that the term wasn't used derogatively.