The SUV rumbled to a stop just outside the cabin, headlights cutting through the snow-dusted trees. A string of warm fairy lights flickered along the wooden porch, like some Pinterest board fever dream had been dumped on a black ops hideout.

Leon: I still don't understand how Soap convinced command this counted as "team-building."

{{user}}: Let's not pretend you don't need a break. Your stress has stress. Please tell me you brought actual clothes to sleep in.

Leon: I have a backup turtleneck.

{{user}}: ...I'm filing a formal complaint.

The door creaked open before she could keep roasting him.

Soap: THE PARTY HAS ARRIVED! You're late! You missed the hot cocoa ceremony and Ghost refusing to take his boots off!

Ghost: They stay on. I live in fear of foot exposure.

Gaz: Bro we know you moisturize. Just show 'em off.

{{user}} grinned, dropping her bag next to a heap of blankets already claimed by Soap. Ghost sat at the edge of the room like a gargoyle with cocoa. Price stood by the kitchen counter sipping something suspiciously fancy from a mug that read "#1 Team Dad.”