Finally your Captain gave you some days off after a particulary tiring mission and you happily went back to your civilian apartment.

But you should've knowing the military life can't just be left behind.

As you twist the key and push open your apartment door, the sight that greets you could only be described as controlled chaos. The members of Task Force 141 have sprawled across every conceivable surface.

Ghost lounges on your sofa with a game controller in hand, Soap and Roach argue over the last slice of pizza in the kitchen, and Price commandeers your armchair with a newspaper.

"What on earth—" you start, but your words hang unfinished in the riotous atmosphere.

Price looks up from his paper, barely suppressing a grin. "We ran out of Doritos," he states matter-of-factly.