You are forewarned, this story is based heavily around OC characters, however canon characters such as Hood, Cortana, Arbiter and a few others will make semi-regular appearances, eventually becoming integral later in the story.
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the creators of the Halo universe, nor do I own anything, I just write to learn and experience, and hopefully for the enjoyment of others.
My Neighbour is a Spartan
The sun shone down on a small town, bringing with it warmth and the promise of a clear day. Mist still clung to the tips of the mountains in the distance and the grass was covered in a fine frost, making it glitter in the light and crunch beneath the boots of those unfortunate to be awake so early in the morning.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky and steam rose from the melting frost, so too did the people rise.
Shop owners prepared for the day and opened their stores, farmers rose and tended to their animals and crops. Many other people made their way to the sole train station in Tamworth. They chatted their fellow townspeople, sipping home brewed coffee as they departed for the city for another days work. Those that did not work roused reluctant children from their beds and began the morning routine of getting ready for school.
At 0700 hours the town was alive and filled with activity, bursting with activity and life.
Sharp brown eyes took in every detail of the small but lively town, despite the fact that their owner was parked at least two miles from the edge of the bustling town. One would not have thought that only months ago the very existence of the town had been in mortal peril, that all of the 5000 people that inhabited Tamworth could have been killed by scorching plasma, pelted with leaden bullets, or consumed by the living dead.
The figure owning the brown eyes stood with corded arms crossed loosely over a broad chest. The nearly seven foot man cast a very long shadow on the grass as he continued to watch the people below.
He had been standing upon the small lookout for well over thirty minutes, simply observing his new surroundings with keen eyes. The passive expression never left his face, and he showed no discomfort from the early morning chill, despite the fact that he only wore a standard pair of UNSC fatigue bottoms, a black muscle shirt and a thin jacket, left partially unzipped.
The man remained still as a statue for a while longer, only moving when he had observed enough to have a mental map of the town and valleys layout in his mind. Booted feet barely made a sound as he walked swiftly to the gun-less Warthog, easily climbing into the monstrous cars' driver seat.
He briefly looked at a small data pad, the rectangle seeming even smaller in his large hands, checking the directions before smoothly manoeuvring the beast of a car onto the un-paved road. The man's destination led him exactly 4.3 more miles away from the town and up a rather large hill. The Warthog's tires kicked up small stones as it swiftly climbed, what could be considered, a steep hill.
Once he reached the hills peak, his exceptionally sharp eyes quickly found his destination.
Number 05, Stirling Hill.
His new home.
A woman walked along the road, hazel eyes shifting from searching for any faults in the fence line to the dog trotting beside her. The Blue Great Dane's tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, the giant dog wuffed air from his nose and kept wagging his tail, faithfully following his master as he plodded along with his giant feet thumping in the dirt.
Her eyes moved back to the fence, and a second later she let out a screech of surprise when the Dane suddenly barked and galloped down the road. Embarrassed at being so startled, she growled out a few curses before tugging down her hat and sprinting after the dog.
The man shut off the growling engine of the Warthog, leaving it parked in the driveway of his new house. Gravel crunched beneath his booted feet as he climbed from the vehicle. Brown eyes saw every detail of his new abode.
It could be considered a roomy, but not overly large house from the outside. Tall windows were on the West and East walls and thin wooden blinds kept anyone from seeing inside. A thick, wooden door guarded entrance, a second screen door stood in front of it. Brown-orange tiles were layered over the roof, the lighter colour reflecting some of the infamous Australian heat. The pale white paint coating wooden walls had been slightly worn by the weather, nothing that he couldn't fix, he supposed. The garden had been kept in shape by someone, the grass hadn't overgrown in the yard, nor had weeds taken over the gardens. The trees had grown tall and created a wall of brown and green on his small property, a screen of privacy made by natures' hands.
All of his observations look less than a few seconds.
His hand had barely touched the front door of his house when his keen hearing picked up the sounds of a creature approaching.
Years of training and battle induced reflexes kicked in.
In the blink of an eye, he had spun and moved into a crouch. Muscles coiled, arms raised, ready to block or strike out.
Since he had been prepared to fight a fearsome beast, the man was understandably surprised when a large, dopey looking dog bounded to a stop before him. Bright blue eyes peered up at him, a friendly bark emerging from the creature's throat.
The man blinked once, twice, three times.
His emotional conditioning did not allow him to openly show his bewilderment.
"Get back here you silly dog!" A distinctly feminine voice yelled, a second pair of footsteps barrelled from the direction the dog had come from. He straightened out his frame, removing the slight scowl on his face. He appeared scary enough without it.
The dog barked again and moved closer to smell his hand just as the footsteps pounded down his driveway. Brown eyes left the dog in favour of watching a woman skid to a stop a few feet away from him.
She didn't see him as she was bent over, attempting to catch her breath, but he saw her perfectly. While she recovered, he noted that she was blonde, lean, but not fit like a marine, and had skin lightly darkened by the sun. She wore simple clothes, faded blue pants made from a material he recognized as denim, with a dark singlet and a lighter over-shirt, left unbuttoned. She also had an unusual hat upon her head.
"Damn...dog." She grumbled between breaths, before finally straightening.
When she met his eyes, they widened as her face flushed with embarrassment, she sent a glare at the dog who ignored her in favour of sniffing his shoes.
"I didn't realise anyone was here, sorry for barging in like this!" she hastily apologized, "Boomer just took off all of a sudden."
The aforementioned Boomer barked at the mention of his name and nudged the man's large hand with his nose. Taking special care to be gentle, he pet the dog on the head a few times, the blueish-grey fur soft under his calloused fingers.
The blonde haired woman laughed a bit at this, the sound easy if a little breathless, "He is quite friendly, loves getting attention." She smiled in a friendly manner as he continued to pet the dog. He detected the slight accent to her voice, they odd way her voice shaped the vowels and lengthened certain sounds, and he deduced that she was a native to this land, he had heard a number of marines with the same accent.
"I take it that you are our new neighbour?" She said with equal parts friendliness and curiosity.
Not removing his hand from the dogs head, he replied with a short yes. Her smile widened a touch, not at all put off by his one-word answer or the indifferent tone to his voice, she seemed intrigued, if anything.
"Cool, it has been lonely up on the mountain with just two other people and the animals." The woman offered her hand, and he felt curiosity and relief mingle briefly in his gut at the fact that she didn't recoil at the sight of him. The scars caused many to shy away. "The name's Gabby..."
He hesitated for a brief moment, not used to people being so forthcoming with someone of his appearance and occupation...but then again, this woman had no idea who he was or what he did. Gabby did not seem put off by his hard voice or hardened appearance, which was unusual.
He took her hand in his far larger one, practically engulfing the woman's hand, and for once he gave someone his name, not his number or rank.
I hope that this had tickled your fancy!