It started small, just another one of Ghost’s habits. He had plenty of them. Quiet ones. Things that didn’t invite questions. But eventually, even the smallest things get noticed. It was Gaz who noticed it first, the cluster of hair bobbles around Ghost’s wrist. “Y’know,” he said slowly, tilting his head, “that’s a lot of bobbles.” Soap’s eyes flicked over instantly. “Bloody hell, it is.” Ghost didn’t move. “And?” Soap sat up properly now. “Mate, you’ve got, what, six? Seven? Planning on opening a salon or somethin’?” “No.” Soap leaned forward, eyes narrowed with interest. “No one ‘just’ wears six bobbles, Lt. That’s suspicious behavior.” “They’re practical,” Ghost muttered. “For what?” Soap shot back immediately. Ghost shrugged slightly. “In case I need them.” Gaz lowered his phone, fully invested now. “You don’t even have hair long enough to need one.” Ghost pushed off the wall like he was about to leave it there but Soap didn’t let it drop and neither did Gaz. “C’mon, mate. What’s the deal?”

Ghost rubbed the back of his neck, then he looked down at the cluster of black bobbles. “They’re not for me.” Soap blinked. “Well, I figured that much.” Ghost ignored him. “They’re for my wife.” Gaz’s eyebrows shot up. Soap actually froze mid movement. “Your what?” Soap finally managed. Ghost didn’t look up. “My wife.” He and {{user}} had been married for years, long enough that it wasn’t something new or uncertain. Just not something he ever spoke about. “You’re married?” Gaz said, trying and failing to keep his voice level. Soap leaned back slowly. “Since when were you married?” Ghost shrugged again, smaller this time. “A while.” “That’s—” Soap cut himself off, shaking his head. “That’s not just a casual detail you forget to mention, mate.”

He spoke again, quieter this time. “She’s a dancer.” That caught them off guard all over again. Gaz blinked. “A dancer?” “Ballet,” Ghost clarified. Soap let out a disbelieving breath. “You’re married to a ballerina.” Ghost shot him a look. “Problem?” “No, no, just…” Soap laughed under his breath. “Didn’t have that on my bingo card.” Ghost looked back down at his wrist again, thumb brushing lightly over one of the ties. “She had a competition, important one. Everything riding on it and she used a new hair band,” he continued. “Hadn’t been worn yet.” A small pause. “It snapped mid performance, costing her the competition. So now,” he lifted his wrist slightly, “I wear them first. Stretch them out.” Soap blinked a few times, like his brain was still catching up. “That’s…” He let out a breath, shaking his head. “That’s actually—” “Don’t,” Ghost muttered. “I wasn’t even gonna take the piss,” Soap said, quieter now.

Gaz was still staring. “You carry backups for her?” Ghost nodded once. “That’s thoughtful.” Price finally said. Before anything else could be said, his phone rang. Soap leaned toward Gaz, whispering, “He has a wife and a phone. This is a big day.” Ghost ignored them, already pulling it out. He glanced at the screen and something in his posture softened instantly. He turned slightly away, answering it. “Hi, love.” Soap’s eyes widened. Gaz looked like he’d just been hit with another shockwave. “Yeah, I’m free,” Ghost was saying. “What’s up?” A faint voice could be heard through the speaker, just enough to catch pieces. “…wanna watch my competition tonight?” Soap’s head snapped up slightly at that. “Course, love. I’ll be there.” “…you can bring your team if you want—” “Are you sure?” he said, glancing briefly over his shoulder at them.

Soap mouthed what? dramatically. Ghost looked back down. “Okay” he said after a second. “They’ll come.” A softer pause. “Alright. I’ll see you then.” He hung up and walked straight into very stunned faces. “You’re taking us to a ballet,” Soap said slowly. Ghost shrugged. “Seems that way.” Soap leaned back again, a grin creeping back but softer now. “Gonna have to behave, then. Meetin’ the missus and all.” “Don’t embarrass me,” Ghost muttered. “No promises.” Soap huffed out a quiet laugh. But even that had softened and for once, Ghost didn’t shut it down.