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A/N
Hey readers! I try getting that song for this chapter and for some reason the link won't allow me too. I don't know why, but if you listen to Spotify or on Youtube. Just find the song and the artist and listen to it (if you like). Until then, enjoy this chapter!
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The truck rolled past two security checkpoints before the gates opened to reveal the base. It wasn't what Charlie imagined—not some cold, sterile government facility.

The main building looked like a massive, reinforced hangar with smaller structures around it. Military trucks lined the side of the lot. Everything about it was fortified. Secure. But it felt like a home built by soldiers.

John parked near the main entrance, the crunch of gravel under the tires. He turned the engine off and looked at her.

"You alright, love?"

Charlie smiled nervously. "Yeah."

"Nothing to be nervous about," he assured her, squeezing her knee gently.

She nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. As she watched John climbed out and came around to open her door before she could touch the handle. She accepted his hand and stepped down. His fingers laced with hers, the warmth of his palm swallowing hers. He didn't let go as they walked inside.

The main corridor of the base was warm with earth tones, metal finishes, military banners, and the faint scent of coffee and gun oil. It was a strange combination of comfort and battle readiness.

"This isn't what I pictured," she admitted quietly. "I thought it'd be like a military base from a movie."

John smirked faintly. "Not quite."

Her brow furrowed with curiosity. "So... what is this place? Like—what was it used for before? And how did you even get this?"

John led her past a small conference room, toward the hallway that would take them deeper into the living quarters and training areas.

"It was a recon training facility years ago. For special units. Quiet place where they could prep for off-book missions." He glanced at her, voice steady. "Abandoned for a while. When we needed our own ground—your mother called in a few favors. Got it transferred under our use."

Charlie blinked, wide eye. "Just like that?"

He chuckled low. "Wasn't that simple. Took months of paperwork and pulling strings. You'd be surprised how fast governments forget about places like this."

She looked around again, trying to take it all in. "So this is home for soldiers?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "It's off the books. Officially, it doesn't exist. That's how we like it."

They turned a corner, boots echoing softly on the polished floor. Charlie squeezed his hand lightly, still taking everything in. "It feels... I don't know. Like it's seen a lot."

"It has."

As they reached another hallway that led toward the training rooms, John stopped. His fingers tightened around hers. His eyes—soft but serious—found hers.

"Before we go any further, love—I need you to listen to me."

She looked at him. "Okay?"

"You're under my protection. That won't change." His voice dropped lower, steady as a commander but still warm. "But this world you're walkin' into—it's not like university. Everything here is classified. Everyone here, their presence, what we do, where we go... none of it leaves these walls."

Her eyes widened. "I—I wouldn't tell anyone."

"I know you wouldn't," he said gently. "But you have to be sure. Even casual talk—mentioning names or who's here—it could put lives at risk. Including yours."

The weight of his words settled heavy between them.

She nodded quickly. "I won't tell. I promise."

John searched her face, making sure she meant it—not out of fear, but out of understanding. "You've handled more than I expected. And I trust you. From this point on, you need to carry what you see here like it's your own."

"I will."

His expression softened when he cupped her cheek with one hand, thumb brushing over her skin. "That's my girl."

Her cheeks flushed warmly, but she held his gaze and smiled back. "So what happens if someone asks me where you work?"

"You tell them that I serve in SAS. Nothing more."

Charlie nodded. "Okay."

John leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before he let his hand drop. "Good."

As they passed the rooms and moved onto stairs, Charlie could already hear music echoing down the hallway. Something upbeat with a country music, which she may or may not know the song.

They turned into the living lounge, and the scene hit Charlie all at once.

Picking up a song she may or may not heard off was As You Leave by Canaan Cox blasting through a Bluetooth speaker placed by somewhere—playing right through Gabby's phone. Gabby stood behind the kitchen island, working over a hot skillet in her gym leggings and a simple t-shirt while the smell of spices—chilies, cumin, and fresh cilantro—filled the air.

Soap sat cross-legged on the floor, bouncing Ivory gently in his lap while the baby giggled at some cartoon show playing on Roku on the mounted TV.

Jasper, Simon's dog, lay beside them with his head resting lazily on Soap's boot.

Cam stood at the counter beside Gabby, sliding a tray of golden blueberry muffins onto a cooling rack. While Gaz was at the stove, frying eggs like a pro, sleeves rolled up, and focused.

Everyone looked relaxed.

For a brief moment, it didn't feel like a task force preparing for a major operation. It felt like family.

Her steps faltered as she stayed close to John, her grip on his hand tightening.

Gabby spotted them first.

"Charlie!" she beamed, wiping her hands on her apron. She rounded the island and came toward her quickly. "Oh my god, it's so good to see you again."

Before Charlie could react, Gabby pulled her into a warm, strong hug.

"You doing alright? You look better than last time. You feelin' safe with this old man keeping you close?" Gabby teased lightly, tilting her head toward John.

John rolled eyes at the name she called him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks," she smiled, her nerves easing a little.

Gabby gave her another quick squeeze before pulling back. "You don't have to be shy here, alright? We're not as scary as we look."

"Speak for yourself," Soap called from the floor, grinning. "I am scary."

"Scary adorable," Gaz quipped without turning from the stove.

Soap threw a dishtowel at him, missing by a mile. Ivory squealed in delight, clapping her tiny hands.

Cam looked up from the muffins, brushing flour off her cheek. "Hey, Charlie. Good to see you again."

Charlie gave a shy little wave. "Hi."

"You want a muffin?" she asked, holding one up.

She look at John and he smiled at her. Giving her a chance to be present with his team, she look back to Cam and walked toward the kitchen and accepted the muffin.

"Thank you," she said before stepping out and took a bite. It was warm and smooth and well-baked. It reminded her almost about her grandmother, Hazel, would bake blueberry muffins on a Saturday morning, whenever Charlie stays over as a child.

Soap chimed in again. "Welcome to the den, sunny."

"Is that my nickname now?" Charlie asked while still chewing the remains, looking at Soap.

"Ay, you're a sunny to our Captain."

She blushed and smiled quickly before nibbling more on the warm muffin. Music playing, and the scent of spices thickening in the air as Gabby stirred a skillet of chorizo and scrambled eggs.

John followed closely, occasionally letting his hand graze the small of her back as they made their way to sit on a couch near Soap and Ivory. She leaned in towards him, and he spread his arms wide, letting one rest on her shoulder while he played with her hair over her shoulder. They exchanged a look before planting a kiss on her forehead.

Charlie was about to relax until the door on the far side of the lounge opened with a soft clunk.

Bootsteps heavy and she glanced over her shoulder toward the entrance. A man entered, tall and broad-shouldered. He wasn't wearing tactical gear—just a simple fitted dark t-shirt and jeans with work boots. A baseball cap was pulled low over his short-cropped brown hair, and his familiar green-hazel eyes swept the room.

It was Simon and his sharp jaw, dusted with stubble, was more defined than she'd expected.

There were scars even on his cheeks to his jawline and his lip. Despite the casual clothes, he carried himself with a quiet but intimidating presence. Carrying a bag of items, he saw Charlie and gave her a nod.

It wasn't rude. 

It was just him when it comes to meeting strangers. 

He didn't say anything since he stepped in and headed to the kitchen, but her eyes trailed after him.

There was something about Simon that commanded silence, not out of fear but respect.

Even in a plain dark shirt stretched across his muscled frame and dark jeans smudged faintly with dust he'd ridden in on, he looked every bit like a man born for war. 

A slim silver dog tag chain known around his neck, the tags slipping free just beneath the collar of his shirt. She caught the brief flash of RILEY, S. into the small metal tag, resting beside a simple tungsten wedding band under the pendant lights as he set the bag on the counter. 

It was matte black with a single, subtle engraving that wrapped around the edge.

But what really caught her attention was the folded leather sheath clipped discreetly to Simon's back pocket, barely visible unless you were looking for it. 

The pocket knife it held was compact, practical, nothing flashy. The handle was dark micarta, smooth but grippy, etched faintly with the letters SRG-01. 

The blade was short, stonewashed steel—perfect for daily use but sharp enough to do damage in a pinch. It was a gift Gabby made after he told her that everything he carried needed to be reliable. She'd designed it herself with help from a local bladesmith in Texas.

Charlie didn't know why, but that detail, his wife's knife, his wife's ring, the tags clinking faintly against his chest was known in him.

And that, somehow, made him more intimidating. She looked away.

"Tea's still warm if you want," Cam called to him casually while she was putting up the muffins to be ready.

Simon just nodded once and began unloading supplies from the bag: extra ammunition in discreet cases, a folded set of comm wires, and one thermos—marked with Gabby's name in Sharpie, including paper plates.

John leaned down toward her cheek and kissed it.

"Don't be shy," he said and smiled. "He's friendly when he's not busy."

"No, I'm not," Simon added dryly, without looking at John and Charlie.

She looked at him and blushed more. With a quick smile, she looked at Simon and wanted to say something. But when Simon looked at her after he stepped out from the kitchen. His eyes landed on her immediately.

It wasn't hostile, but assessing.

The kind of look that spoke of a man who'd spent years studying people in seconds before judging their character. She swallowed, despite the nerves prickling at her skin.

Simon nodded once, a simple gesture of acknowledgment. Then, his features softened—barely—but it was enough.

"Charlie," his low, Manchester-accented voice rumbled.

"Y-yes." She smiled nervously.

Before Simon continue, Jasper had already noticed his owner's arrival. The massive dog sprang up from where he'd been dozing by Soap and trotted over, tail wagging. But instead of going straight to Simon—Jasper skidded toward Charlie. The big shepherd sniffed at her jeans, then gently pressed his head into her thigh.

She blinked in surprise, looking down at him. "Oh—hello there."

She reached out and her fingers threading through Jasper's thick fur. He leaned into her touch, tail thumping the floor gently.

Simon raised a brow and watched.

"That's a first," Soap said from the floor, watching. "Jasper never cozy up to new people tat'fast."

Charlie blushed, still petting Jasper. The dog huffed contentedly and nudged her hand when she paused.

"I've always loved dogs," she admitted. "I guess he can tell."

His eyes narrowed—not in suspicion but in thought. Simon finally cracked a small, approving smile when he glanced at John.

"Smart lass, this one."

John squeezed her shoulder back gently, still grinning as he chuckled.

"That means Jasper approve," Gabby said without looking, still in the kitchen as she was almost done making breakfast.

"Yeah, he's the best judge of anyone he meets. You've got his vote," Cam added as she pulled out paper plates from the cabinet.

Charlie smiled, warmth blooming in her chest despite the earlier nerves.

Simon finally approached from behind the couch to the front, and held out a hand—not the formal, stiff handshake of a soldier, but casual. Open.

"Welcome to the 141, Charlie."

She took his hand, her smaller fingers enveloped by his large, hand. "Thank you."

"You take care of him"—Simon nodded toward John—"and we'll take care of you."

Her smile widened, the weight of anxiety lifting from her shoulders. "I will."

Jasper huffed again, plopping down at her feet like he'd already decided she was his new favorite. Simon scratched his head before heading to the kitchen.

Soap chuckled. "Look at that, she's got the dog and Ghost wrapped 'round her finger."

She laughed softly and looked down at Jasper, whose big brown eyes gazing up at her, tongue sticking out happily. She reached down to scratch behind his ears again, eliciting a contented groan from the shepherd.

As everyone began to settle into the rhythm of breakfast prep and time spent together, another door opened at the far end of the lounge. It was quieter this time, and Levi Dunn stepped out.

He was dressed in his clean cargo joggers, a plain grey t-shirt, and a hoodie too big for him (one of Soap's spares, judging by the SAS patch awkwardly hanging off the shoulder). He was skinny like a thick branch and his dark and short hair messy from sleep.

There was a faint bruise on his cheek from two nights ago after John had slammed him against the floor. The shadows under his eyes betrayed poor sleep, but it was the awareness in his eyes that struck first.

The second he spotted John—and Simon—he stiffened.

His eyes flitted nervously to the floor, as if meeting anyone's gaze might prove fatal. That was the exact moment when Charlie turned her head and her eyes landed on Dunn.

Beside her, John subtly adjusted his posture. The same sharp, predatory instinct he'd displayed during the interrogation still lingered in his demeanor. His broad shoulders became motionless, and Simon noticed Dunn at the exact same moment.

His throat bobbed visibly as he swallowed hard. "H-hey?"

His eyes first meet Charlie, then shifting to the rest of the crew. Recognition flashed across his face immediately when he saw her, followed closely by a wave of guilt that seemed to wash over him.

Before the awkwardness could thicken too far, Gabby stepped out from behind the island.

"Morning, NerdTic," she called lightly, using his hacker handle without malice.

Dunn flinched at the name but nodded. "Morning."

"You sleep good?"

"A bit."

"Good. You're not our prisoner anymore, but I will make you scrub the gym mats if you keep hovering like a ghost."

A few soft chuckles stirred from Gaz and Soap.

His lips twitched nervously. "Yes, ma'am."

Gabby gestured to the counter. "Breakfast's up. Grab a plate."

Dunn nodded quickly, trying to skirt the edge of the room toward the food like he was navigating a minefield.

Charlie saw how Dunn lingered at the edge of the group, carefully avoiding John and Simon. His eyes darted around the room, never settling on them. When Dunn extended his hand toward the stack of plates, as if under the weight of unspoken tension. She could almost feel it herself—his silent plea for words that wouldn't come. It was a same feeling, one she knew from the times her own voice had been trapped by nerves or fear.

She turned around and focused on the screen.

Behind her, Dunn kept glancing toward her. Then away. Then back again. Until he spooned some eggs onto his plate, he finally seemed to gather what little courage he had.

"Um..." It came out barely above a whisper.

Charlie turned over her shoulder to the left, and John noticed. He frowned at Dunn.

But Simon moved first, stepping up beside Dunn and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. The sharp, sudden contact made Dunn jump like a live wire.

"Say it," Simon ordered calmly.

Dunn opened his mouth and shuts up.

Simon rolled eyes and said, "You'll feel better for it, but I won't stop Price for coming after you."

Gaz almost snickered and Gabby scoffed when she looked at her husband. "Simon."

He looked at her and shrugged. "Just being real."

Dunn swallowed. His throat bobbed hard.

"I..." He turned toward Charlie, eyes wide and earnest. "I'm sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt. I didn't know who you were. I swear to God, I didn't. I was after the money and doing what I was supposed to do."

Charlie blinked, surprised by the sincere apology.

John said nothing. He didn't need to.

Which lead to Gabby folding her arms, waiting patiently.

Soap, Gaz, and Cam stayed quiet, watching.

And when Charlie took a breath, letting it out slowly. She glanced at John—felt his silent warning that said, you don't owe him anything.

But the way Dunn looked at her like he was bracing for the inevitable. Expecting rejection or worse.

She gave him a small smile.

"Apology accepted," she said gently. "You were in a bad spot and you didn't know. Just... don't let yourself get used like that again—especially from my ex."

His face crumpled and he nodded quickly. "I won't. Never again. Matter of fact, I already blocked his number and broke my own phone with the SIM included."

Charlie blinked. And John did the same.

Which earned Simon to pat on his shoulder again and stepped away. "There. Not so hard."

Gabby smiled faintly. "Now eat before it gets cold, NerdTic."

Dunn gave a grateful nod and practically retreated to the far corner of the room, as far from John as possible.

You poor thing, Charlie thought last before everyone gathered plates and settled into their spots.

Soap leaned toward Charlie with a smirk.

"See? You've already made the base a kinder place. Ghost's scarin' people less. Dunn's confessin' his sins. Next thing you know, Price'll start smiling more."

John shot him a look, deadpan. "Don't push your luck, MacTavish."

"Worth a try," Soap said, grinning wider.

She couldn't help but laugh softly as she sat down beside John on the couch.

Plates filled, the team settled around the long dining table that stretched across the lounge. Ivory had her own high chair at the end, happily chewing on tiny muffin bites Cam had set aside for her. Jasper lay beneath the table, occasionally sniffing at anyone who dropped a crumb.

The conversation stayed light for a few minutes—talk of mundane things. Soap teased Gaz about overcooking the eggs. Cam mentioned a book she finished reading and may move onto the next ACOTAR series. Gabby shared a funny story about Ivory trying to steal Simon's balaclava the day before.

Charlie listened, laughing and smiling more. It was the kind of family chatter she rarely had. The kind that made the ache in her chest lighten. But, in between bites of her food. She turned to look at Dunn, who was hunched over his plate, silently eating at the far corner.

"I didn't get your name," Charlie started.

His head jerked up. Wide, startled eyes met hers. "Oh... um, Levi Dunn."

"Levi, is NerdTic your nickname?"

"Yeah," he said nervously. "I have my own Youtube Channel, which... I do a lot of videos on rating tech gadgets, convince others to get this or that objects, and offer items on my wishlist for those who like my channel and support. I even host Twitch channel for games and chat."

John half-listened while eating since his instinct still on alert.

Charlie pressed on. "I wanted to ask you something. You worked with Harkin for a while, right?"

Soap and Gaz turned their glance at Charlie. Cam did the same, including Gabby, while Simon was drinking his coffee but his focus was on Dunn. The moment Charlie started a conversation.

Dunn paled slightly, glancing at John, but he said nothing. He just watched. Assessing.

Dunn nodded slowly. "Yes. About a year."

"What do you know about him? I mean—the things he made you do."

The room quieted, the easy banter draining away like water down a sink.

Dunn rubbed his hands on his pants, clearly nervous. "Mostly digital work. He paid me to break firewalls, pull data, reroute money into ghost accounts. Stuff to cover up his operations."

"Is that your side work?" Charlie asked again, surprised.

Dunn nodded. "Yes."

"What kind of side work?" John asked, his tone neutral but heavy.

"Smuggling. Mostly weapons, sometimes people. Bribery. Some blackmail." Dunn explained. "But after Rich won't answer Harkin's call, things escalated and he got desperate. Started asking me to do more invasive work."

"Invasive?" Soap asked.

"He wanted me to trace a specific number and it was her. I didn't ask why but I didn't know who she was at first. Then her email. Social media. He wanted everything. He even tells me to do the same at Rich. He paid me extra to build a backdoor into anyone devices, and I did hers."

John frowned.

Charlie felt a chill run through her bones but forced herself to stay composed.

"What else?" she asked softly.

"He wasn't watching you for whatever the reason. He was tracking who you talked to. He thought you might be a threat. Or... that you knew what he was doing. Call him paranoid."

"What?" Charlie said quietly, her voice steadier than she felt.

"The drive," Simon clarified. "He was after you because you have the drive all this time. He gave it to you, remember?"

She blinked.

She did remember.

"Yeah, he did."

She felt a hand move to her knee, she looked at John and he gave her a firm squeeze.

Dunn exhaled shakily and glanced between them. "I—I swear, I never meant for any of it to go that far. A-after that night, your boyfriend found me and we found out whom Harkin was really working with—Zakharov, Al-Qatala—I didn't realize I was in deep sea."

"You were, but left unchecked." John commented dry.

"Yeah," Dunn said, "All I know was that Harkin would hurt me, if I don't do what he needed since he realize how useful I am."

Then Charlie tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowed. "What exactly are you good at, Levi? You weren't just some random person Harkin would find."

Dunn blinked at the unexpected question.

"Uh... no. I used to be a security analyst. For a financial firm that contracted with private defense companies. Your ex found me through LinkedIn."

That made Gabby turn her attention to him.

"I built and tested network defenses. When the company downsized, I went freelance. Started doing penetration testing. Then... well, black hat jobs. Data mining. Encryption bypass. Anything that pays well for a job well done."

John stared at him, but it wasn't the look he would gave when judging a criminal or an insurgent (or both). It was the look he gave when evaluating usefulness.

"What kind of data mining?" It was now Gabby's turn to ask.

"Deep web pulls. Secure server scraping. I can trace payment trails most people wouldn't even know exist. Cryptocurrency laundering too. I—uh—wrote a few worm codes for mining info from closed networks."

Soap let out a low whistle. "Bloody hell. You're a proper nerd rat."

"Yeah, yeah," Dunn admitted with a grimace.

Gabby exchanged a glance with John and Simon. "That's why his servers were almost impossible to crack. I had to bypass layers even special ops usually don't use."

Dunn looked down at his plate and to them, guilt bleeding into his features. "I used to joke that if the government ever caught me, I'd be either arrested or hired. Looks like I got a third option—captured by a Task Force."

Cam smirked quietly into her coffee.

"You know the dark nets Zakharov's people are using?" John asked.

Dunn shook his head. "No, but I did built one of the redirection trees for Zakharov. Not by choice. I haven't met him but Harkin was his side man and he forced me to scrub data trails after every shipments move from one place to another."

Gabby smiled faintly, the look of someone fitting puzzle pieces together. "Then you're not just a rat. You might be the map to their whole system."

Dunn blinked, stunned by the realization. "I—I guess I am?"

"Uh, yeah," Gabby replied, giving him a look that said "seriously." "Think about it: Harkin and Zakharov are our main targets. We have a case officer on our side, and she's gonna be needing this more than what we have been investigating these past weeks," she paused and took a bite of her chorizo and continued, "we have to prevent them from inciting another war in various regions. We need to track their digital footprints before we worry about physical evidence. So, I'm glad that John made the right call at the right time."

Charlie listened and a realization dawned on her—one that both unsettled and intrigued her.

Although, she isn't a smart digital guru like Levi. She still couldn't believe that Harkin has been tracking her all this time, within anyone's phone and hers.

"Well, it sounds like you know things that could make a real difference, Levi," she finally said. "I hope you'll help John and the rest to cut off these dangerous people."

Dunn looked between her and John and the rest. But, his eyes locked onto John. "If he want me to, I will. I know I can't change what I did, but maybe I can make up for it."

"We'll see." His tone made it clear Levi was not off the hook yet. But it was a start.

"I want to help," he said quietly, but firmly this time. "If I don't... I'm as good as dead anyway. They'll find me eventually."

Simon gave a small nod. "True."

"I can recreate the maps I built for their laundering routes. Their drop points. Even some of the burner IPs and shell companies Zakharov has been using." Dunn licked his dry lips. "But I'll only be useful if you keep me alive."

"That depends." John said, his sharp gaze didn't waver.

"I'll give you everything. I mean it. I can even show you what Harkin was planning next. Before I went dark, he was preparing something that needed massive data rerouting and new offshore accounts. He was hiring new muscle. Men I didn't recognize."

"Oh?" Soap added. "So, he's taking over Rich's position?"

"Yeah... I think?"

That earned a glance from John to Simon.

"If you can trace those offshore accounts, I might be able to cross-reference with the assets I couldn't decrypt that night." Gabby said, her brows furrowed.

Dunn nodded quickly, almost grateful someone was seeing his value now. "I can. I'll need a secure rig, but I can do it after breakfast."

"Convenient," Soap muttered. "Man's just happenin' to have all the keys we need."

"It's not convenience," Dunn replied, looking at Soap with hint of annoyance. "It's because he forced me to build those locks. And again, I'm sorry for making this harder on you guys."

John finished his breakfast and continued, "If you're serious about helpin' us, Dunn, stop apologizing. I've heard enough."

Dunn opened his mouth as if to protest—but Charlie gave John a light nudge on his shoulder and gave him her soft, almost warning look. Her eyes narrowed, urging him at least try to be nice.

"What?"

"Johnathan, he means it."

Gaz smothered a snort behind his coffee cup.

Soap didn't bother hiding his grin. "Ooooh. Look at that. Shorty sunny givin' our Captain a 'behave' face."

Even Simon had his lip quirked faintly at the edges.

John exhaled through his nose and gave Charlie a side glance, almost smiling.

"Alright," he muttered before turning back to Dunn. "You've apologized, Levi. Move past it. Start being useful."

His shoulders dropped in visible relief. "Yes, sir."

Gabby stood, grabbing her plate and Simon's before moving into the kitchen."Then after breakfast, we'll clear the back office. You'll work with me and Laswell to get your setup ready."

Dunn looked genuinely surprised. "Laswell who?"

"Our CIA officer and a mother to Charlie," Gaz answered. "And you'd better keep this to yourself, not breathing a word to anyone, inside your circle and out. Otherwise, our friend here," he gestured toward Simon, "will make use of you in any way he sees fit... or our boss," he then indicated John, "will be more than happy to bury you either alive or dead."

Dunn stared at Gaz, and almost chuckled. "Y-yeah."

"Guys, leave him alone. He won't do it." Charlie defended.

"Well', he's not a prisoner," Cam said in a matter of fact tone. "But, he's either part of the solution or he's not. He choose."

"I choose to contribute!" Dunn said immediately. "I volunteer."

Cam arched a brow, pausing with her coffee halfway to her lips. "Volunteer? Like... Hunger Games style?"

Dunn flushed, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah. Kinda."

That earned a snort from Soap. "No bloody way. You quoting Hunger Games right now?"

"I—uh—I am a fan of the Hunger Games," Dunn admitted sheepishly. "Katniss is still a badass chick."

Cam opened her mouth. "No way. You read the whole series?"

"I did. I have the collector's editions," Dunn said, then quickly added, "Well... had. Some thefts raided my apartment before I went to find another place to live."

Gaz leaned back, chuckling. "Damn, of all the skeletons in your closet. I didn't expect young adult dystopian fandom right here."

"I was a lonely security analyst, okay?" Dunn huffed. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate cute chicks with a good rebellion."

Cam laughed, clearly delighted. "Respect. Katniss would've scrapped the dark web too if she had your skills."

John, however, didn't look impressed. He raised a brow at Cam. "Don't get friendly with criminals, Cam," he warned, voice low but not harsh. "Especially not him."

Charlie immediately sat up straighter, fixing him with that look again.

"John." She crossed her arms lightly. "You can't expect everyone to live by the same rules like you guys are."

Soap and Gaz both exchanged smirks—both clearly enjoying the rare sight of their hardass Captain being called out by someone half his size and twice as sweet.

"Uh oh." Soap grinned wide. "There it is again. Sunny givin' him the teacher face."

"Second time," Gaz whispered theatrically.

Even Simon, quiet as always, let out the faintest amused huff into his coffee.

John exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing—not in anger but resignation. His hand found her thigh again, thumb rubbing slow circles.

"You keep defending him, love, I'm gonna start thinkin' you like criminals."

"What if I marry one?" Charlie quipped back softly, her eyes twinkling. "I can play the song of Brittney Spears and sing, 'Mama, I'm in love with a criminal.'"

Soap nearly choked on his juice, earning Ivory a sequel happily. And Gaz started laughing outright. Even Cam was covering her mouth, trying not to burst into laughter.

John ran a hand over his beard, trying—and failing—not to smile. His gaze softened as he leaned toward her, lowering his voice just for her.

"Careful, missus. Keep talkin' like that and I'll deal with you back in my apartment."

Charlie flushed hot but didn't back down. "Is that a threat?"

He almost grunted.

"Can't you tell?" he almost smirked.

Gabby, already carrying plates back to the kitchen, shook her head fondly. "Alright, before this turns into some rated-R breakfast scene—Dunn, finish eating. Cam, you and I will set up the back office. Simon, you're helping."

Simon grunted. Almost in agreement, but he didn't want too.

Dunn nodded quickly, face still red from the Hunger Games reveal—and now the unexpected approval from the group.

"What about me?" Gaz asked.

"You're going to babysit Ivory," Gabby said nonchalantly.

"Alright," Gaz shrugged and looked at Ivory, "but if she pukes or makes a mess of herself. What do I do?"

Simon blinked and slowly turned to Gaz with a look of, 'are you effing kidding me?'

"Never changed a diaper before?"

Gaz shook his head.

He huffed and looked at Gabby from a distant.

"I think I'll switch Gaz and he'll help."

"Why can't you teach me?" Gaz frowned.

"First try won't do well on your term. Ask Soap."

Soap nodded quick. "First time is never pretty, lad. Don't feel bad."

Gaz blinked three times before he let out a scoff and shook his head.

"Oh, and mate," Soap added while standing up. "Even bein' polite to Charlie can get you killed."

Dunn looked at Soap and his eyes widened. "What?"

"Shut up, Johnny," Simon snapped at Soap, then turned to Dunn. "What he's trying to say is, don't be too friendly. Our Captain here doesn't share. Just deal with it."

Charlie flushed at what Simon had said before moving her eyes down to her plate and finish eating—it was almost lukewarm.

"Aye," Soap grinned. "You'll know sooner that she'll get our boss trained to be nice to everyone he meets."

John shook his head, grumbling into his coffee, but didn't deny it.