Startling from a familiar—unfairly, a far too long absent—warmth across his chest, Snake looked up from his paperwork. Desk work was definitely his least favorite part of life at FOXHOUND, but something he could manage. Command given to him in the early 70’s, before his life had to be reinvented due to the twins, before he parted ways with
Zero The Patriots and soon wound up in Colombia…
Ironic that with the passage of time, these days he would regain the upper hand—at the very least—by reclaiming David for his own purposes.
“That you can sneak in so easily worries me about potential security holes. You and Adam should both be granted automatic permission into our facilities.”
His eye stayed focused on the feminine arms wrapped around him. Her perfume hadn’t changed once in these thirty-one years. Sweet and floral, but not overpowering. She was wearing a new gold watch, had recently manicured nails—the pink nail polish was a pretty choice—and wore an emerald ring (her favorite gemstone) he gave her back in ‘84. His old Triumph Bonneville T100 was a gift for her in ‘91 or so, once he returned to FOXHOUND as Commanding Officer—at least, Snake thought? Provided the years weren’t screwing with his current memory too much.
All in all, EVA certainly seemed to be doing well for herself these days.
“I'm just good at what I do.” She was nibbling on his ear, her breath incredibly hot while sucking against the lobe. Snake leaned back into her embrace, against her breasts. Her affection had been sorely missed in his life, certainly.
“So…You miss me, handsome?”
There was no way around it: this was a dangerous, deadly, game that Big Boss was playing, double-crossing the Patriots System little by little. Ahab, back to his original identity, an otherwise ‘unknown’, was in the shadows as leader of Outer Heaven. Currently on standby with plenty of tangible ‘warnings’—nukes—if things went down that path.
She prayed they wouldn’t, her personal preference was Snake’s system of fear to outright threats, on his or Ahab’s end. Whether or not Ahab personally agreed with Snake’s methods, fear, at least, was partially understandable.
And yet she couldn’t blame either of them, in a world gone mad despite everyone's surface level calm, this surface level daily life.
Snake, for his part, was lost in thought, mentally putting the pieces together. How many years had it been? A private rendezvous in South Africa 1984, and some occasional contact ever since sounded about right, but.
Visibly relaxing, he chuckled slightly before scratching at his gray beard as she began to unbutton his dress shirt. “So that's what you're here for?”
A mock pout. “That's cold. Can't I spend today with the man I love?”
Something about that filled him with warmth. Certainly he could never let go of her—the initial reason for this solitary path in life—yet EVA’s words were honestly touching, after so many years apart. He couldn’t help but offer an embarrassed mumble.
“I didn't even buy you a birthday present…Wasn't expecting you to drop by.”
“Just your company is enough, Snake.” She kissed his jaw while his good eye closed, a relaxed sigh escaping.
“EVA, what have you been up to these days?”
She innocently took a seat in Snake’s lap, despite her mischievous smile while grinding against him. His office chair creaked from EVA’s added weight, Snake himself groaned from their sudden friction before glancing at the door. Pity that it wasn’t locked.
“Oh, you know…This and that.”
His eye narrowed slightly, out of concern more than suspicion…Before a knocking at his door pulled him away from further questioning.
The person on the other side already helped themselves by entering the room. Their flesh left-hand, full of papers, were immediately and unceremoniously dumped onto Snake's wood-grain desk.
He merely raised an eyebrow at the fifty-nine year old woman—as of today—currently occupying the space within Snake’s lap. “You need to look these over.”
Kaz wouldn’t even offer Snake the courtesy of addressing him by his name. His ‘commanding officer’ simply didn’t deserve that these days.
At least Big Boss’s office didn’t reek of his cigars, for once.
That familiar scent would otherwise—unfortunately—be the start of drawing Miller into a dangerous, rather unnecessary, tryst.
It wasn’t as if Miller was jealous.
Pushing fifty himself this year, he was past such fleeting emotions (what a dirty lie he’d tell himself).
Snake, as always, was the problem. Not anyone else.
“Hello, Miller. It's been awhile.” EVA flashed him her prettiest smile, curious when he’d get his head out of the clouds.
“Erm…hi, EVA. Happy birthday?” Out of respect—towards her—he politely averted his gaze. At least they weren’t indecent (although Snake’s door not being locked was a rather bad habit of his).
The female spy in a form-fitting leather jacket and pants made for a nice contrast with Snake’s FOXHOUND uniform trench-coat. The bastard had his own leather jacket from the ‘80’s still hanging up somewhere—he’d sometimes wear it on the rare occasions he and Miller had to meet off-base to privately discuss budget issues or rookie mishaps.
Generally it would take all of Kaz’s willpower to ensure their chatting over coffee stayed at just that. He’d catch Snake’s occasional knowing smirk—of course he wouldn’t care if things escalated to sex, but Miller himself had a reputation to uphold! On a personal level, as a recently divorced man, and as a matter of personal principle.
Funny how personal principles worked. Once upon a time on a rainy day in 1972, in a shitty Colombian shack, Kazuhira crossed paths with EVA. Snake had been training with their small amount of recruits, bad weather disregarded. Kaz needed some quiet time to catch up on paperwork, so he didn’t mind.
Getting a feel for one another, kisses exchanged due to EVA’s powers of seduction, Kaz couldn’t help but be captivated by her. Yet he played it cool despite his flat-out refusal to tell her where Snake currently was. Like hell he’d betray his newfound good friend in a such a way.
Funny, too, what the passage of time does to change one’s perception of things. Snake truly was one lucky bastard to be with somebody as kind and beautiful as EVA. She was good enough to offer vague warnings about Zero—matters Kazuhira didn’t understand at the time, matters otherwise ignored. At least MSF’s subcommander fulfilled her wordless request, playing dumb once Snake himself brought up EVA due to some mysterious cassette tapes he received.
Whatever the tapes contained, Snake never let on, despite his vaguely troubled expression after he listened to them privately.
“We were about to grab a bite to eat. You’re free to join us, if you’d like.”
EVA offered a genuine smile to Kazuhira who busied himself while adjusting his hair tie. Cutting it short again…something about the long length felt like breaking away from either attitudes of carefree youth in his 20’s versus his bitter hurt and betrayal in the mid-1980’s.
A new hairstyle, a newly built physique thanks to 3 hours of daily exercise, and a new—permanent—body thanks his shiny prosthetic limbs. Feeling damn good in one sense of the word, Miller was in no hurry to change his appearance yet again.
“Thanks for the offer, but I have mountains of work to finish.” He flashed a charmingly honest smile of his own, showing teeth…Yet soon enough, his eyes met Big Boss, and his expression transformed into a pure scowl.
“Don’t forgot those reports. Got it?”
Big Boss’s quip was as dry as the whiskey that he planned to soon partake. “I wouldn’t have known otherwise, seeing that I run this place.”
EVA politely stifled laughter with a hand, mutually waving goodbye to Miller with the other.
The sudden slamming of Snake’s office door was rather startling.
She raised an eyebrow. “Still bitter, I see.”
John’s voice was one of utter defeat. “We're long over. There's nothing I can do.”
It was impossible to not feel sympathetic to Miller. All she could offer was: “These roles we play can wear down anyone. I can't blame him for getting tired of the…situation between you and Zero’s proxies.” There was an undercurrent of personal bitterness to her words. Whether it was due to the three boys—long grown, without a mother or father at their side—or Snake’s lack of personal qualms with the potential nuclear option and easily utilizing child soldiers…
His frown grew deeply troubled. “Let's change the subject?”
How were Adam and Ahab are faring together these days, in South Africa? He made a mental note to touch base with them sometime tomorrow.
Pushing back concerns for the future—someday, somehow, EVA would do her part to save abandoned children—her pleasant smile returned. Wordlessly pulling off the blouse underneath her discarded jacket, blonde locks fell against her bra straps. She couldn’t help but smile against John’s lips as they met, over and over again, deeply kissing.
Damn his charisma…Neither herself, nor Adam, nor Miller (perhaps Ahab himself) were able to ever break away, it felt.
Yet in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder just how disappointed in Jack that that woman would be.
What a pity that he was unable to let go of his pain and anger.
Time spent together with surprisingly soft kisses and gentle touches quickly passed. Their bodies and mouths joining over and over again—before and after lunch arrived—certainly wasn’t a terrible way to spend the day.
EVA took delicate bites from her box of fried rice as she lay naked, happily sprawled atop John’s desk. While the meal and setting wasn’t her first choice—she still preferred the finer things when it came to food—the company by her side didn’t hurt. Snake had been mindful to lock the door before their fun started, afterwards falling into light conversation and agreeing on Chinese takeout.
“It's a shame our lunch isn’t anything like the real deal.”, she had teased while stroking his hair as they waited for their meal to arrive, her betrayal after Operation Snake Eater a long distant memory.
Naked himself, Snake reclined back into his office chair while exhaling a cigar, his good eye on her back. Full of food and content, he truly missed her companionship.
EVA’s foot dangled off the edge of the table, dangerously close to Snake’s free hand. He resisted the urge to start tickling her.
“…You’re distracting me.”
Her eyes caught his, a lazy smirk upon her face. She took her time in nibbling an egg roll, still laying flat on her belly. “Is that so~?” A relaxed hum.
Blowing smoke to the side, his cigar was left balancing atop his ashtray. Big Boss gathered the gorgeous blonde into his arms, heavily sighing.
“I wish you wouldn’t have to leave.”
Shaking her head while still smiling, EVA’s lips tenderly kissed Snake’s nose before nuzzling her cheek into his beard. The wrinkles on his aged face were pretty…cute.
“You know I’ll always keep in touch. If not me, then Adam.”
“Yeah.” John sighed again.
Lightly hopping out of his arms to find her clothes haphazardly strewn on his floor, she quieted any internalized fears of his by…popping an egg roll into his mouth. Snake blinked twice before wolfing the crispy treat down.
“I’m surprised to hear you worrying so much, Snake.” She pulled her panties up, adjusting the waistband before spotting her bra atop a chair. Snake’s good eye stayed on her back, quietly observing any physical scars she received ages ago from Volgin’s ‘hobby’ were the only ones, in her line of work. They somewhat faded with time, and age.
While neither was a stranger to mutually enjoying occasionally rough sex, John was still thankful. The thought of any of them—EVA, Adam, Kaz, or Ahab—seriously harmed by anyone made John feel ill, deep within his heart.
Setting her motorcycle helmet on his desk—still utterly disheveled with scattered paperwork and leftover food—EVA wrapped her arms around Snake’s neck. She pulled him in for a deep, lingering, kiss. He immediately reciprocated into the warm farewell, knowing she didn’t mind the taste of cigars. Occasionally she’d indulge alongside him.
“See you soon?”
“Yep.” For her sake, Big Boss managed a smirk. “Just watch yourself.”
She could only laugh. “If that’s your response, then you’re underestimating me and Adam.”
He snorted. “Please. That’s not it, I ju—”
She kissed his eyepatch, a silent thanks for his protection thirty-one years ago—his cheeks immediately grew warm before he stood. Mentally distracting himself by beginning to get dressed.
EVA waved goodbye, full of warm smiles, while quietly shutting the door behind her.
All in all, it wasn’t a bad way to spend her birthday, on a pleasant spring day in 1995. Years from now, she would look back on these fading memories with fondness—and longing—that it was the only chance EVA witnessed father and son in peaceful coexistence before all Hell broke loose.
Spotting the running track down and across the way, she noticed Frank, an older recruit talking with Roy, FOXHOUND’s vice-commander. She wasn’t close enough to hear the discussion, but it seemed to be about the new batch of recruits—doing push-ups or running laps around them.
Both of the men were old friends of Snake’s, although they’d probably recognize Ocelot sooner than they’d recognize her.
Staying in the shadows was just a part of the job.
Her eyes fell on Miller, a few feet away. The clearly unhappy man with angrily crossed arms was chewing out a young brunette man who offered a sheepish, apologetic, smile. A blue bandana across his forehead added a touch of charm.
Miller’s prosthetic limbs caught that late afternoon sunlight, a silent warning for all FOXHOUND rookies to not push him.
Despite the helmet covering her face, EVA was certain that her heart nearly stopped. Their eyes had momentarily locked—the twenty-three year old's with confusion—glancing at this mysterious woman some distance away…
EVA, for her part, couldn’t help but feel utterly, thoroughly, unnerved.
This boy looked almost exactly like…
“DAVID! If you can gawk at our guests, then you can easily run ten more laps! Get your ass moving!”
Immediately, his head whipped back around, focus returned.
“Y—yes, Master…Right away!”
Hm. It seemed he still had a lot to learn.
EVA couldn’t help but smile brightly as she walked away while overhearing Kaz loudly chide David for stumbling mid-run.
Seeing his face, seeing him alive and well, was the day's greatest gift. If fate would be kind to him, perhaps David wouldn't be in Patriot clutches his entire life.
Perhaps in David—at least—there was hope for the future yet.