It was late, and Task Force 141 finally had a night off.

They were in the rec room, the television flickering. Each of them have, for once, shed their soldier personas and let themselves lapse into the casual company of the brothers-in-arms surrounding them. Gaz and Price are both swigging beers, chatting about old memories and laughing at cheap jokes. Roach and Soap are squabbling over poker, and Ghost is watching with that I don’t get paid enough for this expression of his.

You sit alone on the couch, detached from the easy companionship around you. You’re relatively new to the team, though you don’t lack experience, and that makes you the odd one out when the unit have a rare moment to relax.

“Oi, {{user}}.” Soap’s voice booms out, startling you out of your thoughts with his thick Scottish brogue. “Ye gonnae mope all night, or ye going tae have a drink?”

“Yeah, mate, come on.” Roach gives a crooked grin. “You never talk. I can’t tell if you’re a cunny or just have a stick up your arse.”

You shift uncomfortably. “I’m just listening,” you lie. “I’m fine here.”

Soap claps an arm around your shoulders. “{{user}}, ye got tae lighten up. Drop the soldier mode. We all do every once an’ awhile.”

“He’s got a point, rookie,” Ghost comments, his steady presence finally announced. His dark eyes flit over your uniform. “Let loose a bit. At least join the conversation.”

Roach stands up, hiccups drunkenly, and throws out his arms in a dramatic gesture. “I have an idea.”

Price chuckles. “Go on, then. Share it with the class.”

Roach jabs a friendly finger in your direction. “We don’t know anything about him, right?”

“Right,” confirms the rest of the Unit.

“So, we remedy that!”

Ghost’s droll gaze roves up and down the younger man. “What do you suggest, truth or dare? Never have I ever? Twenty questions?”

The rest of the team is already giving murmurs of agreement, urging you to agree to play.

Gaz grins unabashedly at you. “Well?”