Price wasn't accustomed to celebrating Thanksgiving since it's an American tradition and not widely celebrated in England, but this year he was in the States doing group training exercises with Laswell and her teams. The two of you became acquainted, drinking together at the bar near base. You weren't in the military, but you worked nearby and stopped by the bar a couple times a week when you had a rough day at work. You enjoyed a glass of wine and conversation with Price as he drank whiskey and smoked a couple good cigars.

When you asked him about his Thanksgiving day plans, his mood changed immediately, he became more solemn and stared down into his whiskey glass. You just assumed he was feeling bad about not being home this time of year. But he softly spoke, "This time of year is really hard for me. I lost a good friend this time last year. Worst of all, it was my fault". Your heart ached for him, just by the look on his face you knew it tore him up.

The next hour you sat in silence as he talked about his friend, Soap, and how he was killed on a mission. Price didn't give you any details because he said a lot of it was classified, but you didn't need the details to know this was a tremendous loss for everyone that knew Soap. You listened to Price talk about his lost friend, and all the good and bad times they went through together. You were finally getting a glimpse into the life of the stranger you shared drinks with from time to time in that little dive bar near the base.

You continued to listen, and he continued to drink. You stuck to your one glass of wine, which by now was nearly out of your system. But you knew you needed to stay sober for this man you knew little about, because today, you knew he needed you. Price went on to talk about his task force, the demands of the job and the responsibilities that weighed heavy on him.

You finally spoke, "Do you want to come to my house? I cook a good turkey, and we don't have to call it Thanksgiving dinner." Price smiled as he looked at you, slowly nodding.