Price heard the barracks door long before {{user}} reached their room. He’d been listening for her boots in the hallway, the dull, tired rhythm he could recognise from a mile away. She’d spent the whole day outside helping train the new recruits, trudging through freezing wind and slush, shouting corrections over howling weather. Which was exactly why he’d spent the last hour preparing. When {{user}} finally stepped inside their room, damp hair clinging to her cheeks, jacket dripping melted snow onto the floor, Price was already waiting. “Bloody hell, love…” he breathed, crossing the room. “You’re soaked.”

{{user}} shivered. “Recruits needed extra drills.” Price gently slid her jacket off her shoulders before she could protest. He tossed it over the chair without looking. “You shouldn’t be out there that long,” he muttered. “Not in that cold.” {{user}} managed a tired smile. “I’m fine, John.” “No,” he said softly. “You’re freezing.” Only then did she notice everything he’d done. Her pyjama’s, the soft flannel ones she loved, were folded neatly on the bed. A towel lay warming over the heater. And through the cracked bathroom door, she could smell lavender soap. Her breath caught. “John?” He reached for her cheek, brushing away a wet strand of hair tenderly with his thumb.

“Bath’s ready,” he murmured. Her chest tightened at the gentleness in his voice. “You ran me a bath?” she whispered. Price shrugged lightly but his eyes softened. “Wanted you comfortable. You were out all day. Least I can do.” {{user}} leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, quick and grateful before she slipped past him and into the bathroom. The warmth inside hit her immediately. Steam curled around her, the tub filled with frothy bubbles. {{user}} sank into the bath with a sigh so deep it pulled the tension straight from her bones. When she emerged, her flannel pajamas waited, soft against her skin. She pulled on the top and bottoms, breathing in the faint smell.

He was already in bed when she came out. “You warm, love?” {{user}} rubbed her arms. “I should be. That bath was heaven. But now I’m freezing all over again.” Price lifted the corner of the blanket in silent invitation. “Come ‘ere.” {{user}} crawled into the bed and slid beneath the covers, pressing her cold body against the warmth radiating from him. Price hissed between his teeth the moment her ice cold feet brushed his shin. “Bloody!” He jerked. “{{user}}!” She burst into quiet laughter. “Sorry. They’re cold.” “No kidding,” he muttered, voice half grumble, half laugh. “You’re tryin’ to give me a heart attack.” {{user}} wriggled even closer, burying her face against his chest. “Warm me up then.”

Price sighed dramatically, though his arms were already coming around her, strong and sure. He pulled her into his torso, tucking her head beneath his chin. “There,” he murmured. “Better?” She hummed softly. “Starting to be.” Price shifted, so her frozen feet pressed flat against his calves. He winced. “Christ, you’re icy.” “John…” He smoothed his hand up her spine, fingers warm and calloused. “Alright. Fine. I’ve got you.” He pressed his chin to the top of her head, his beard brushing her damp hair. His body heat seeped into her slowly, melting the lingering cold. {{user}} exhaled a long, content breath, her muscles untensing one by one. “Better?” he asked quietly.

She nodded against his chest. “Much.” He tightened his arms around her just a little, blanket wrapped securely over both of them. “Good. ’Cause you’re not movin’,” he said, voice low and fond. “Not till you’re warm enough that those feet of yours don’t try to kill me again.” {{user}} giggled and curled her toes lightly against his skin. “They’re not that cold.” Price jolted again. “They bloody well are!” She couldn’t stop laughing now. “Keep it up, love, and I’ll warm you up my way.”

“What way?” Price slid his hand beneath her pajama top, fingers spreading warm across her lower back, gentle but enough to make her breath catch. “This way,” he murmured against her hair.