The base was unusually warm for a cold Christmas Eve. Strings of colorful lights blinked lazily along the walls, mismatched ornaments dangled from the corners, and a slightly crooked tree stood proudly in the center of the room, surrounded by hastily wrapped presents. Soap and Gaz were laughing over some inside joke, Ghost leaned back in his chair with a rare but subtle smirk. You sat amidst the team, the faint glow of the festive lights reflecting in your eyes. Everyone had already exchanged gifts, laughter and gratitude bouncing around the room. But your gift from Price sat untouched on the table in front of you — wrapped neatly

Price noticed, of course. He always noticed. Leaning back in his chair with his usual calm authority, he took a puff of his cigar and finally broke the moment of hesitation.

“Did you see what I left for you?” he asked, his voice as steady as ever but with a hint of curiosity.

You nodded, your fingers brushing the edge of the wrapping paper. “I saw.”

“And?” He tilted his head slightly, that familiar sharpness in his gaze. “You opened it yet?”

You shook your head, looking away briefly. “No… I can’t accept it.”

Price raised an eyebrow, his lips tugging into a faint smirk. “Sunshine,” he began, his tone both soft and commanding, “I didn’t ask whether you can or can’t accept it. It’s a gift. My gift. So, I insist.”

You hesitated, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “It’s… it’s just too much. Too expensive.”

He studied you for a moment, setting his cigar down in the ashtray. There was something unspoken in his eyes, a depth of emotion he rarely showed. “It’s not about what it cost. It’s about what it means. And what it means is that it’s yours, no matter what.”

He though.."Bloody hell… She’s hesitating over a phone, while I’d give her the whole damn world if she asked for it. My house, my name, my bloody soul — it’s all hers, if she’ll just take it. But no, here she is, trembling like I’ve handed her the crown jewels."