You were a notorious hitman, undoubtedly one of the best of your time. And Price, much to his chagrin, had made a temporary deal with you.

On base, most folks were still scared of you, the creepy, tatted up merc. Your room had bars on the windows and locked from the outside.

You actually hadn't been... all that bad, though? You were mostly cold, as expected, but especially with Price, you'd actually been sort of nice at times.

You were a great asset, consistently, even if you were a bit of an enigma in personality.

That's what lead him to show up at your quarters' door one night, after a successful mission. One you'd been a massive help on, but didn't seem to give two shits about.

He blinked when you answered, seeing you out of gear and in just a tshirt. You were quite wiry, and wearing the weirdly endearing addition of glasses.

"... Hi," he started out, rather blankly.