The air smelled of fried dough and popcorn, the golden glow of fairground lights bathing everything in a hazy warmth. Children ran past, balloons bouncing, and a carousel creaked somewhere in the distance, the cheerful tune of its music box drifting across the evening air. {{user}} walked beside John Price, her arm looped through his, her face turned upward to watch the Ferris wheel spinning slow and steady against the deepening twilight sky. Price, as usual, had that calm, steady presence about him, though there was something softer in the way he looked at her tonight. Crowds and noise weren’t exactly his thing, but {{user}} had a way of coaxing him out of his comfort zone. She saw him as more than just a soldier, she saw the man who could laugh, who could relax, who could just be John. And when she asked if he’d come to the funfair with her, with that eager smile of hers, he didn’t even hesitate. For her, he never did.

They stopped in front of one of those old fashioned stalls where rows of teddy bears, plastic toys and oversized plush animals stared back at them. “Darts,” Price muttered, squaring his shoulders as he eyed the rows of balloons pinned to a board. “Easy enough.” {{user}} grinned, leaning into him with a mischievous tilt of her head. “You going to win me a bear, then?”

“Course I am.” His mouth twitched with a smirk. “Piece of cake.” He sounded confident, but {{user}} caught the glint in his eyes, half determination, half nerves. It wasn’t about the game, it was about impressing her. Price stepped up, coins exchanged for three darts. He held the first one like he was planning a mission briefing, narrowing his eyes in concentration. The dart whistled through the air, thunk, just missing the balloon by an inch.

“Close one. You almost had it.” She laughed. “Beginner’s bad luck,” he said gruffly, lining up the next shot. Another throw, another miss. His jaw tightened. By the third dart, he was more determined than ever, but again, the balloon remained unscathed. The stallholder coughed politely into his hand. “Unlucky, mate.” {{user}} tilted her head at him, her eyes soft. “It’s okay, John. You don’t have to prove anything.” “No, no,” he interrupted, fishing for more coins with a scowl that was more playful than serious. “I’ll get it this time.” She rested a hand on his arm, gently stopping him before he wasted more coins. “How about I give it a go?” Price raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Think you can do better, do you?”

“I might,” she teased, taking the darts from the stallholder. Price stood back to watch, a little skeptical, a little amused but when the first balloon popped with a sharp crack, his eyes widened. {{user}}turned her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Beginner’s luck, right?” She hummed, already lining up the second dart. Pop. Another balloon gone. By the third, she’d sealed it, the stallholder nodding in approval. “Well then” he said cheerfully, “looks like you’ve won yourself a prize. Go on, pick one.” {{user}}’s eyes scanned the rows before landing on a big, fluffy teddy bear with a bright red ribbon. She reached for it but instead of hugging it to her chest, she turned and pressed it into Price’s arms. “There,” she said sweetly, her grin wide. “A prize for you.” Price stood there with the oversized bear cradled awkwardly in his arms, staring down at it with disbelief. “I was meant to win you one.”

“Well,” {{user}} said lightly, “you didn’t. So now you’ve got one.” He exhaled through his nose, fighting a smile as she laughed at his expense. “Bloody hell, {{user}}. You’re enjoying this far too much.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Just a little.” And so, for the rest of the evening, he strode through the fairground with a giant teddy bear tucked under one arm. The sight drew a few amused looks, and {{user}} giggled every time someone gave them a double take. But Price didn’t complain. Not once. Because even though he hadn’t managed to win her a prize, hearing her laugh and seeing that sparkle in her eyes was worth carrying a teddy bear through the whole bloody fair.