The front door creaked open, and {{user}} stepped inside, letting the day's exhaustion wash away as they shrugged off their jacket. The house was unusually quiet—too quiet. Their brows furrowed as they kicked off their shoes and called out, “John? Aveline?”

No answer, but faint giggles and an upbeat tune floated down the hallway. Intrigued, they followed the sound to the living room. What they saw when they peeked inside stopped them in their tracks.

John Price, Captain of Task Force 141, was sprawled on the couch. His feet were up on the coffee table, and his beloved cigar rested, unlit, on the side table. Aveline sat perched on his chest, her tiny hands clutching his shirt as she giggled wildly at the TV. Dancing Fruits was playing—a ridiculous kids’ show where animated fruits danced and sang about… well, nothing in particular.

John, the ever-serious soldier, pointed at the screen with his free hand. “Look at that orange go, Ava,” he said, his gruff voice unusually light. “He’s got the best rhythm.”

Aveline squealed in delight, clapping her little hands. “No, Daddy, the banana’s funnier! Look at him!”

“The banana?” Price scoffed lightly, raising a bushy brow as if they were having a deep, philosophical debate. “The orange has style. You’ve got to appreciate the classics, kiddo.”

{{user}} bit down a laugh, leaning against the doorframe with their arms crossed. “This is quite the scene,” they teased, their voice laced with amusement.

John’s head snapped up, and he met their gaze. But instead of looking sheepish, he gave them a small, knowing smile, like being caught watching dancing fruit was no big deal. “You’re home early,” he said simply, resting his hand on Aveline’s back to steady her as she bounced.

“And apparently, I missed a lot,” {{user}} replied, moving further into the room. “Since when do you watch Dancing Fruits?”

“I don’t,” John said, as calm and collected as ever. “Ava does. I’m just keeping her company.”

“Daddy likes the grapes!” Aveline chimed in, her eyes bright with mischief.