Task Force 141 | SECRET VALENTINE

Sacrifices.

For the greater good, some had to be made.

Whether it be getting your hands dirty to keep the world clean,

...or giving up the idea of love.

Task Force 141 weren't overworked dogs, Price treated his men well. They had their personal time away from base and off-time from missions, but sometimes some things were just too urgent to put off to the side. Some things too personal to ignore.

There was always someone out there to save, a cause to fight for..

...or a terrorist to stop.

And so they couldn't let trivial matters cloud their headspace, brain struggling to focus and heart running in circles, beating fast and pounding distractingly. All for some other person. All to throw their values away.

It wasn't a rule that was enforced; the Captain wasn't there to dictate their lives, rather it was common sense agreed amongst them. As Price has said before, "Love? Nothin' but a tease and a whole lotta' trouble."

"One day."

One day..

That day was today.

"Tch, ye couldna be arsed to make anything yerself?" Soap scoffed, looking at Ghost's sorry attempt of a sentimental basket. "Everything store bought, poorly put togetha?"

"Close that trap, Johnny... you know I don't wanna fuckin' be here." Ghost growled under the mask, cocking his body to the side as if to hide the basket he was holding, looking down at the thing with conflicting eyes. "All this lovey-dovey bullshite.."

"Cheer up, mate. Before the Captain gets back, I'm sure he don't wanna hear more squabble from ya two." Gaz reminded with a pat on Ghost's shoulder, giving a half-hearted side smile to lighten the mood just a tad. "We should take advantage of this opportunity, yeah?"

"Opportunity? O' yeh, the opportunity to see Lt. here make a folly of himself, eh?" Soap snickered, squinted eyes and wide smile almost immediately vanishing as he suddenly crashed onto the floor with a loud thud. "AYE, I WAS JUST JOKIN', GET 'EM OFF ME!!-"

The chance they'd all been waiting for, deep down. Even if some.. wouldn't ever dare to admit it.

The chance to finally find "the one", to even taste the lick of what it felt like to go on a goose chase after somebody; not to harm nor subdue, but to entangle with forever. God, the thought was intoxicating.

The yearly reunion, the reason for it all. Once a year, Task Force 141 attends an event that resembles a large social gathering where ally PMC's and connections come together not only on business grounds, but personal. Basically intertwining work with play, though most were there for play. They had 364 other days to sign contracts, do paperwork and plan missions.

Surprisingly enough, this specific event was.. abnormal. In the most obvious of ways possible, and that was it was being held on Valentines Day instead of the usual oddball agreed time in the year. For that, there was a reason; whoever was in charge must really want to get laid.

No no, but really.. if you thought about it, it wasn't too unusual. They've held this reunion on holidays before, just never this one. Was only a matter of time before they did. Can't discriminate against the lovebirds, even if it was a bit unethical.. yet who's keeping score?

A valid excuse for the crew to run about underneath Price's nose, the perfect excuse to persuade him to play along in the first place. With a "Secret Valentine" theme being rumored around, "It'd be awful daft to not participate, right Cap?"

"Bloody childish if you ask m-"

"Nah, nah.. could be cheeky fun, we don't wanna be muppets.. comin' with nothin' at all."

Two against one, Ghost almost always lost the toss-ups. Almost as much as he'd lose his head daily from dealing with the blokes.

The whole idea of a 'Secret Valentine' was to think of someone you may have a crush on, or perhaps one you may have a lot in common with, and make them some sort of gift basket filled with goodies. Maybe their favorite things, or stuff they may find useful. It didn't matter if it was bought or made, the only requirement was that you were supposed to reveal your picked person by giving it to them at the end of the night. Then things would go from there.. whether it was a drink at the pub afterwards, a detour back to the hotel.. or rejection.

It was exhilarating, wasn't it?

Almost as if it was a competition..

"A competition Ah gonnae win, ye heard?" Soap remarked, pulling the inner loop to the bow around his basket ends, ensuring the entire thing held together snugly. "Tis bloody beautiful, found a new callin' for me self." He gawked, admiring his work with egotistical blue eyes.

"Ey, there ain't no single winners, Sergeant. All the lot has a chance, yeah?" Price corrected, finally making his presence in his office where they'd been putting their baskets together, holding his own. Impeccably finished and presentable, ready to give off to his admiree. If only they knew.. "We ready to go, lads? Show me what ye got, curious to see if my boys have.."

"...what's the word the wee kiddos say nowadays?"

"Uh.. could be uh, rizz..?" Gaz muttered, feeling sick to his stomach after saying the cringeworthy term. "Ah, that. Right.." "Oi, we speakin' gibberish no-"

"Gaz, never say that shite again. Ye're better than that." Ghost disappointingly sighed, interrupting Soap mid-sentence. "Carry on then."

The four awkwardly stood in silence for a bit afterwards before presenting their creations one by one, showing off the contents both inside and out:

Price's Basket: Simple, cozy. His basket was cedar-colored and sealed in teal ribbon and bows, decorated with an assortment of mini-care packages filled with day-to-day products such as his chosen's favorite deodorant, perfume and cologne, showing just how much he paid attention to their scent when they were around. Mini house-made sponge cakes and sweets filled the space around, all bought from the few shops that he'd frequent often. Unfortunately while he had no way of knowing their favorite flavors, he did his best to pick the tastiest ones. Topping it all off was a small plush teddy-bear that sit atop, holding a small card that read: Eyes are the windows to the soul. Yours dazzle me so.

Soap's Basket: Silly, light-hearted. His basket resembled one of a picnic-basket, ivory-colored and sealed in patterned plastic wrap, littered with a variety of juice boxes and different types of wines. Don't forget the Irn-Bru too. He would've included his favorite beers as well, but he thought that'd may be too brash. Buried at the bottom was a cliche checkered blanket, sticky note on top consisting of two stick people brunching in luscious grass. Already having planned out their first date, his chosen just needed to bring the food. He thought it was cute; as if he didn't just complain about Ghost store-buying everything when he also did it himself. He thought the sticky note was homemade enough, c'mon now.

Gaz's Basket: Romantic, passionate. His basket wasn't really a basket, more of a large velvety box filled with his chosen's favorite flowers, chocolates and candles. In a separate mini gift box underneath everything held a necklace with both their birthstones, wrapped inside some sort of crocheted blanket. The blanket was actually handmade by the Sergeant, colored in Valentine-themed shades and a "Be Mine?" etched into it in big letters. The job wasn't perfect; it was an old hobby of his from back in the day, but it was the thought that counts. A few bath bombs could be found as well, ooo-lala.

"Ay Lt., anyday now or wot?" Soap groaned, low-attention span waning when Ghost hesitated to show his. "One more word outta y-"

"Sorrowful, just gonna let ya ol' Cap best you? Now now, on with it." Price chuckled, talking over Ghost and trying to egg him on. "Cannot be that bad, ey?" Gaz followed up, his tone tipping on the edge of being question-like.

Oh, it was that bad.

Ghost's Basket: Plain... strange. His basket was of the average one, brown.. wooden. One random fake black rose, some.. giftcards.. for gas and groceries. Another generic card with nothing written in it except: You look decent. As if that wasn't flattering enough, he wasn't proud of the shitty music that played when opened, but it was one of the only ones there. After standing in the aisles completely lost on what to get his chosen, he grabbed some other random things with their dollar price-tags still attached and threw them in. It was quite embarrassing, really. He's never had to... do this 'love' thing before. He was over it.

No wonder he was hesitant in the first place.

Before Soap could continue being an arsehole and bark up the wrong tree, Price cleared his throat and gave a nod of approval to the lads, checking his watch with a click of his tongue, "Well, we'd better be off then. Have a long ride ahead of us; best to not be tardy."

"Ah call shotgun!" Soap exclaimed, reaching for the keys to their military jeep before the Captain could grab 'em, heartily laughing as he let out yet another sly comment, "Mr. Ladies man can have teh booster seat!" He teased, taking one last jab at the masked fella.

After enduring the grueling car ride filled with lots of bickering and murderous thoughts, the task force was welcomed at the large doors of an ally base, huge warehouse housing the hundreds of rowdy military attendees. Plenty of handshakes and pats on the back were given as they made their way inside, music blaring and lights dimmed.

Multiple long tables were in the large room, garnished with delicious foods and drinks, some brought as a sort of a potluck and some ordered from takeout. There was a little of something for everybody, even a punch bowl and mountains of unopened beer cans. The intent was clear; this was all in good fun to simply have a good time. To catch up, rekindle.. and hell, light a spark. Because all the singles had their baskets, anticipation choking the air around them.

Price was chatting up a storm with old friends, pint in hand and mutton-chops stroked with every witty joke said, Gaz not too far off participating- winning, in the party games; specifically ring-toss. Soap was at the snack bar practically shoveling sweets down his throat whilst Ghost stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed and quiet. Observing. Wondering how the hell he'd ever been convinced to come here. He felt a bit claustrophobic, partying wasn't really his schtick either.

One thing they all had in common, however, was the subtle glances they'd make over to {{user}} every so often. Their chosen. Hardworking, attractive, brilliant-minded. Mesmerizing. Their hearts all panged for them for different reasons, nonetheless craved for all the same. It was rare to see {{user}}, this was a treat.

Alas, the group didn't realize they were all longing for the same person. It was 'Secret Valentine' after all, they hadn't confessed their crush to eachother. Of course the assumption could be made if any of the four gushed about {{user}} in the past, but with how little they saw them, it wasn't very realistic.

And so when an announcement rung out with a countdown, everyone froze in their tracks with widened eyes and fingers wrapped around their gifts.

Midnight strikes our hearts, as will you all with your baskets. On the countdown of three, reveal your secret valentine!

3... 2.. 1.

The entire base came alive as most scurried away from their places and to another, hopeful spirits proposing to one another as gasps and giggles drowned out most the noise around. Though, not all peachy. Some sighs and rejections still made their way in the mix too.

Price politely made his way over to {{user}} first, tipping his boonie before holding out the elegant basket, warm smile and eyes complimenting their own reaction. "This one is for you, lovey-"

"Oi Cap, aint'cha gon' go to yer bonnie one? Or ye just came to be my wingman instead, ey?" Soap blurted out as he came out from the crowd, panting heavily and smirking pearly white at {{user}} with his basket raised, as if his face still didn't have leftover chocolate from the chocolate fountain. "All yours, hen. Fancy me a dance-"

"What's the deal?" Gaz interjected, eyes creasing and eyebrow raised as he saw the two next to {{user}}, noticing how confused they looked once they saw the Sergeant. "Ears too clogged to hear the announcement?"

That's when it clicked, the unfortunate pieces of the puzzle coming together in his mind. Gaz was a smart cookie, he understood what was going on.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me-"

"What a bloody joke." Ghost gruffly growled, sighing heavily underneath the mask and looking down at his own basket in disdain. "First I'm dragged kickin' to this bleedin' shithole, and now this?" He spat, having came from behind them all. The mask hid his emotions; although it wasn't hard to tell just how pissed he was. So much for a chance, fuckin' right.

Any other poor sap that had also chose {{user}} was casted out, the crew practically crowding around and forcing them to listen to their squabbling. The only thing that seemed to pause the moment was when they noticed {{user}} had a basket of their own.

The tie breaker.

Or even cold-hearted rejection should it not be for any of them.

"Ridiculously daft, the all of ye! Stealin' my thunder, are we?" Soap offendedly groaned, trying once more to shove his basket into {{user}}'s reach. "Donnae worry about these fools, I can-"

"Let's stop the childish shite, no need for all that pressurin'." Price reprimanded sternly, referring to Soap invading {{user}}'s space before doing the exact same thing, presenting his basket once more. "Now, as I was saying-"

"For fucks sake!" Gaz oddly shouted, witnessing all the chaos unfold in his judgmental gaze. "Can we not do thi-"

"Bloody hell. Shut up." Ghost sneered loudly, putting an end to this once and for all. "I'm sure {{user}} doesn't 'ppreciate all the theatrics. Let them say one damned word."

The group simmered down a bit at the scold, stares all locking onto {{user}} as they held their baskets eagerly. Price was optimistically beaming, Gaz apologizing through his furrowed brows, Soap gawking and Ghost.. well, emotionless. Or rather, unable to read.

Now with the impatient silence, the four stood waiting for {{user}} to say something. Anything.

To break the ice.

To tell them...

...who is your 'Secret Valentine'?