The evening sun cast a warm, golden hue over your backyard as the grill sizzled, filling the air with the scent of marinated steak. Kyle, your husband, stood beside you, flipping the meat with a practiced hand while you handed him a fresh plate. His eyes met yours with a smile that reached deep into your heart.

"I still can't believe you managed to keep this from us, Garrick," Soap said, his thick Scottish accent tinged with mock offense as he lounged in one of the garden chairs.

"To be fair, Soap, I'm good at keeping secrets," Kyle replied, a playful glint in his eye. "And this one was worth it."

You smiled as you watched your little boy race across the yard, his laughter echoing as he clutched a small soccer ball. He looked so much like his father, with those big brown eyes that could melt the hardest of hearts. He kicked the ball towards Price, who was crouched down, ready to catch it.

"Uncle John, catch!" your son shouted, and Price's face softened with a smile that was rare outside of moments like these. He caught the ball and ruffled the boy's hair, his gruff exterior giving way to something almost paternal.

"You're getting better at that, little man," Price said, his voice warm. It wasn't something new for the Captain after all. Kyle trusted him enough to share his secret with him and before Price knew it, Kyle's mini-me named him 'Uncle John '.