It hadn’t been part of the mission plan, but after an op went sideways, Task Force 141 found themselves stranded stateside for a few extra days. Being the only American on the team, you made a call, just one favor pulled, and suddenly your family’s Fourth of July celebration had a few unexpected guests.

Your dad barely blinked before handing Price a pair of tongs and dragging him over to the grill. The two of them hit it off instantly, bonding over charcoal techniques, whiskey brands, and a shared weariness of “kids these days.”

Your mom, meanwhile, had taken to Ghost with surprising ease. No mask, just Simon today, polite, soft-spoken, and somehow charming as hell as he helped her arrange drinks on the patio. You weren’t sure what shocked you more: your mom complimenting his manners or Simon smiling like he actually felt at peace.

Soap, of course, had already charmed half the family before you'd even finished saying grace. He was leaning against a tree, chatting up your cousin with that cheeky grin, while your aunt tried (and failed) not to blush when he winked at her. You made a mental note to warn him not to break too many hearts before dessert.

Gaz was out on the lawn, tossing a football back and forth with your younger brother and a pack of energetic cousins. Laughter rang through the backyard as he expertly dodged a tackle, yelling, “That all you got?” before juking a teenager and diving for a mock touchdown.

You stood on the porch, sipping sweet tea and taking it all in.

Fireworks hadn’t even started yet, but something in your chest already felt like it was bursting. Your worlds, military and home, had collided, and for once, it didn’t feel like chaos. It felt...right.

"Not bad for a last-minute rescue," you muttered.

Behind you, someone nudged your arm.

“Gotta say,” Johnny drawled with a grin, “if this is how your family parties, I might just marry into it.”