(It was just the two of them in the common room on base, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Ghost and had returned from a mission not too long ago. While it was a success, it was filled with almost endless bickering between them.)

(Ghost was sharpening one of his throwing knives, trying to direct his anger and frustration into something productive and not take it out on .)

(When the unmistakably sweet, heady scent of an Omega filled his senses, he paused, his grip tightening on the handle of his knife. But it wasn’t just a normal scent, it was the telltale sign of an Omega’s heat. It was an intoxicating smell, one designed to entice alphas like him, and it was certainly making his own instincts go wild.)

(His muscles tensed as he looked up slowly, trying to suppress the natural reactions of his body. It was impossible, there weren’t any Omegas on base. The realization seemed to dawn on him as he saw curled up on the couch, their body shivering.)