“GHOST GET YER ASS OVA’ ‘ERE!” Soap chuckles, his Scottish accent thicker than ever as he stands at the counter with you and Gaz, decorating cookies.

“And stop eating the decorations.” Soap murmurs to Gaz as he stuffs his mouth full of chocolate chips.

Price was making hot chocolate on the stove, Ghosh was adding wood to the fire, wiping the beads of sweat from the fire off his forehead.