War Dog

Chapter 21

I wake up, the nest of blankets twisted around my body, my throat dry as the desert we'd just come back from. I stand up, body stiff from the way I'd fallen asleep, the sterile scent of cleaning products Ben had used to clean me making my nose wrinkle. I pulled out one of the hoodies Ghost had loaned me and a pair of my thickest pants. I pulled my mask out and pull it halfway up my face. The thin fabric keeping my breath trapped, and keeping my face warm.

I slip out of my room and find my way down the increasingly familiar path to the little kitchenette that the 141 had commandeered for themselves. I grabbed a cup from the kitchen, running it under the sink, finding that the water came out just as cold as it did from the fridge anyway. Pulling my mask down I gulp down the water finding that it just didn't quiet ease the thirst. I pour more water into my cup as a new scent hits my nose. Someone new coming down the hallway. I remain turned towards the sink, sipping this refill slowly hoping to remain undisturbed. 

No such luck. "Well, Lieutenant Riley, you sure have shrunk down to a skinny little thing, haven't you?" A rich baritone voice, thick with an English accent speaks from behind me. 

I smile, amused at the playful tone of the man who'd walked through the door. "You'll have to excuse me, Sir. Decided a little sex change was in order." I turn facing the man as I lean against the bench behind me. My eyes scan his body, a well worn cap on his head with the Union Jack on it, a pair of round glasses sitting on the brim of his cap. His soft chocolate coloured eyes filled with the explosion of amusement that I could scent from him.

"You must be the amazing Ceri that Soap keeps mouthing off about. I'm Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz."

"That idiot," I grumble softly. "Yes, I'm Ceri," I respond louder and reach out a hand to shake his. He grabs my hand, immediately flipping it over and examining the pads on the other side. His fingers run gently across mine as he feels the fur. "Your fur is very soft," he mutters as he continues to examine the structure of my hand. "Your hands are also very tiny."

"Compared to your hands, everything must look tiny." I retort with a grin, and take my hand back. 

"Sorry," he said abashed, reaching a hand back to scratch his neck self-consciously. "The way Soap's been talking about you, I thought you'd be bigger."

"Good things come in small packages." I offer with a grin.

"That's what all the women tell Gaz," Soap cackles coming through the door. Gaz just groans, rolling his eyes not prepared for the two men who'd come through to the kitchen

"Soap," I greet warmly, tail thumping slightly against the cabinets.

"Ceri, I see Ghost has already managed to get you injured."

"Not my bloody fault she got herself shot." Ghost grumbled standing in the doorway behind Soap.

"Aren't you meant to be her handler?" Soap asks smugly.

"I didn't tell her to get shot." Ghost shoots back, irritated with the scottsman.

"I didn't shoot myself... and besides, you should see the other guy. Guys. I wasn't exactly subtle with the number of bodies I left behind. The fact I only got shot three times is impressive."

"Three?" Ghost's voice is a low menacingly growl as he prowls towards me. "Ben said you only had the one bullet wound."

"Relax Ghost, my vest took the other two. I have a massive bruise right here though." I point to the right of my chest where the bruise sat, covered by enough fur he wouldn't have seen the bruise immediately when he'd carried me out of the infirmary. I pull down the hoodie and spread the fur to get to the skin, revealing hints of an angry purple.