Call of duty one shots

The biting Alaskan wind howled like a banshee, rattling the corrugated steel of the makeshift mess hall at the Task Force 141 staging ground. Valentine's Day, or rather, Valentine's month as some of the more…sentimental operators were insisting, had descended on the base like a particularly virulent strain of the flu. Cards were being swapped, awkward gifts exchanged, and the air was thick with a nervous energy that even Ghost seemed to be affected by, judging by the extra layer of tension radiating from him.

Y/N, however, was mostly unaffected. Surviving missions alongside the likes of Captain Price and Soap MacTavish left little room for romantic sentimentality. Still, a small, hopeful flutter resonated in her chest. Keegan, her…well, her thing with Keegan, was different. They hadn't explicitly labeled it anything. No "girlfriend" proclamations, no hand-holding in the chow line. But the silent understanding, the shared glances across a crowded room, the quiet moments carved out amidst the chaos…that was something special.

Keegan P. Russ. Master Tracker. Silent observer. And damn, with those perpetually shadowed eyes and that gruff demeanor, he was undeniably attractive.

She found him later that evening, hunkered down in the armory, meticulously cleaning his rifle. The harsh fluorescent lights bounced off his dark hair, highlighting the lines etched around his eyes. He looked up as she entered, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.

"Hey," she said, leaning against a workbench piled high with ammunition crates. "What'cha doing?"

He grunted, reassembling the rifle with practiced ease. "Keeping things ready. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know." She hesitated, then decided to plunge in. "So, uh… Valentine's month and all… you got any plans?"

He paused, his gaze locking with hers. For a moment, the air crackled with unspoken possibilities. Then, he looked away, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his expression.

"Orders just came through," he said, his voice low. "Intel suggests a potential AQ cell operating near the border. We're deploying at dawn."

Disappointment pricked at her. Of course. It was always like this. Just when a sliver of normalcy peeked through, the mission called.

"Right. Of course," she said, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

He looked back at her, his eyes filled with something akin to regret. "Look, I know the timing sucks. I… I was planning something, I swear. But duty calls, right?"

He sounded genuinely apologetic, and the sight made her heart soften. It wasn't his fault. This was their life.

"It's fine, Keegan. Really," she said, forcing a smile. "Just come back safe, okay?"

He nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Always do." He hesitated again, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden wolf, its eyes inlaid with tiny chips of turquoise.

"Found this in a market a while back," he said, holding it out to her. "Thought you might like it. Reminded me of you… tough, resourceful… and a little bit wild."

Y/N took the wolf, her fingers brushing against his. The wood was smooth and warm against her skin. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes. More than any overpriced bouquet of roses ever could.

"It's beautiful, Keegan. Thank you."

He shrugged, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Don't mention it."

The call for briefing crackled over the comms system. Duty called, indeed.

"Gotta go," she said, clutching the wolf tightly in her hand. "See you… whenever."

"Yeah," he said, his gaze lingering on her. "See you."

As she walked away, Y/N knew this wasn't the grand, romantic gesture that some couples experienced. There wouldn't be candlelight dinners or whispered declarations of love. But in the quiet exchange, the carved wolf, and the unspoken understanding between them, she found a Valentine's Day that was uniquely theirs.

Later that night, huddled in the back of a Black Hawk, battling against the turbulence, Y/N looked down at the wolf in her hand. Valentine's Month, or not, their connection transcended cards and chocolates. It was forged in the fires of danger, strengthened by shared experiences, and built on a foundation of quiet respect and unspoken affection. And that, she realized, was more than enough. That was love, Task Force 141 style.