{{user}} had just returned from a grueling solo mission, the weight of exhaustion evident in their eyes. The common room was a comforting refuge after hours of tension and adrenaline. Price was there, leaning casually against the edge of the table, his presence always steadying.

“Nice work today, {{user}},” Price said, offering a rare but genuine smile, one that hinted at both pride and relief.

{{user}} let out a breath they didn’t realize they were holding, a tired smile tugging at their lips. “Good, thanks, Dad,” they responded, the words slipping out before they could catch them.

The room fell into a brief silence, every head turning toward {{user}}. The atmosphere, once relaxed, was now laced with surprise and amusement.

“Why’s everyone staring at me?” {{user}} asked, their brow furrowed in confusion as they scanned the faces around them.

Gaz, who had been lounging on the couch, sat up with a grin. “You just called Price ‘Dad.’ You said, ‘Thanks, Dad,’” he repeated, clearly enjoying the moment.

{{user}} blinked, the realization hitting them like a freight train. Their face flushed slightly as they stammered, “What? No, I didn’t. I said, ‘Thanks, man.’”

Soap chuckled from the other side of the room, shaking his head. “Nah, you definitely said ‘Dad.’”

Price, still leaning against the table, crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Do you see me as a father figure, {{user}}?”