THE CALL PRICE ALWAYS ANSWERS
Act 1 — A Marriage That Works
{{user}} and Price had the kind of marriage people didn’t expect a soldier to have — steady, functional, affectionate in a quiet, grown‑up way.
Price finally found someone who understood the job, the deployments, the long silences, the sudden calls. Someone who didn’t resent the uniform or the hours. Someone who wanted the same traditional rhythm he did: partnership, stability, a home to come back to.
And {{user}} found someone who didn’t flinch at commitment, who didn’t treat her like a burden, who actually wanted to build a life with her.
They were good together.
Simple.
Solid.
Happy.
And yes — she absolutely loved to bombard his phone whenever he wasn’t busy. Memes, photos, questions, updates, random thoughts, “look at this dog,” “look at this mug,” “look at this cloud that looks like a potato.”
Price never minded.
He’d grumble, sure, but he always answered.
Act 2 — The Text
Price was just finishing a briefing with TF141 when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t even need to check the screen — only one person texted him during work hours with that kind of confidence.
Busy?
He hid the faint smile tugging at his mouth and typed back quickly, thumbs practiced at balancing professionalism with affection.
Finishing a briefing, can talk in 30.
Ghost glanced over with a raised brow.
Soap smirked.
Gaz muttered, “Man’s whipped.”
Price ignored all of them.
Act 3 — The Call
Thirty minutes later, briefing done, the team settled into the lounging area. Boots up, gear half‑off, the usual post‑mission slump.
Price barely had time to sit before his phone started ringing.
Video call.
He answered instantly.
The screen lit up — and there she was.
Not at home.
Not in the kitchen.
Not curled up on the couch.
She was… at the mall.
Bright lights.
Shopping bags.
People walking behind her.
Music playing faintly over the speakers.
She held the phone up with a grin that told him she’d been waiting for this exact moment.
“Hi, love,” she chirped, clearly in her element. “Okay, I need your opinion on something.”
Price blinked.
Nikto stared.
Alejandro choked on his water.
Nikolai whispered, “Oh this is gonna be good.”
Price cleared his throat, trying to look like a commanding officer and not a man whose wife had just FaceTimed him from a shopping center.
“What are you doing at the mall?” he asked, voice low but warm.
She lifted a bag.
“Retail therapy. And you’re helping.”
Price leaned back in his chair, resigned and fond all at once.
“Alright then,” he said. “Show me what you’ve got.”