Price insisted it would be a quick trip. “Just supplies for base,” he’d said. “In and out,” he’d said. “Take {{user}} with you, Ghost.” Ghost should have known better. The moment they stepped into the crowded shopping centre, he regretted every life choice that had led him here. It was hell. Children screamed like malfunctioning alarms. Tinsel hung from ceilings in tangled, glittering webs. Someone was ringing a bell so aggressively that Ghost considered violence purely on principle. {{user}} walked beside him, hands tucked into her jacket pockets. “Well,” she said brightly, “this is festive.” Ghost grunted, shoulders tightening under his jacket. “Festive looks loud.” {{user}} grinned. “Christmas panic shopping. Classic.” Ghost’s only response was a low, irritated rumble in his chest.

They pushed deeper inside. Ghost hated every second of it. People bumped into him. Shopping carts squeaked. Holiday music blasted overhead, cheerfully. {{user}} had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. “Price owes me double for this,” he muttered. {{user}} nudged him. “Come on, soldier. We’ve survived worse.” Ghost turned his head. “Have we, though?”

The mission was simple: Buy wrapping paper Buy lights Buy a replacement tree stand Don’t kill anyone

Within ten minutes, Ghost was re evaluating his ability to complete that last part. He stood stiffly in the seasonal aisle while {{user}} compared Christmas lights, her fingers brushing over the boxes. “Warm white or cool white?” she asked. “Don’t care.” “You definitely care.” Ghost pressed his gloved thumb into the bridge of his nose. “{{user}}…” She sighed dramatically. “These ones, then.” She tossed a box into their cart. It overflowed instantly with decorations, not mission critical but {{user}} kept finding things she liked.

They moved on to the wrapping paper aisle next, an explosion of colour and patterns. {{user}} lifted two rolls into view. One was covered in tiny cartoon penguins wearing scarves. The other was sleek gold with a metallic sheen. “Alright, Ghost,” she said, wiggling the rolls at him. “Penguins or gold?” He stared at her. Stared at the wrapping paper. Then stared back at her. “No.” She laughed. “No isn’t an option.” He exhaled slowly through his mask. “…The gold.” {{user}} blinked. “Really? I pegged you for a penguin guy.” Ghost gave her a look so sharp she nearly dropped the rolls. “Penguins look stupid.” “You’re emotionally threatened by the penguins?” “{{user}}.” “Okay, okay. Gold it is.” She tossed the gold roll into the cart, which was now so full Ghost was starting to look personally offended by the volume of items inside it.

By the time they reached the front of the store, Ghost looked like he’d aged ten years. {{user}} immediately began unloading the cart. “You want me to cover it? Since Price technically didn’t approve half of this?” Ghost reached into his jacket pocket. Out came a debit card. {{user}}’s eyes widened. “Ghost, that’s Price’s card.” Ghost didn’t even blink. “He sent us here. He can pay for it.” {{user}} stared at him, mouth falling open a little. “Did you actually take that from his office?”

“Borrowed,” Ghost corrected, tone perfectly calm as he handed the card to the bored looking cashier. “He’ll live.” The cashier rang everything through without a word. “You’re unbelievable.” Ghost folded his arms. “Shouldn’t’ve sent us out durin’ holiday rush. That’s on him.” The cashier slid the card back. Ghost took it, tucked it into his jacket with zero guilt and grabbed every bag at once, all six of them, like they weighed nothing. “You know he’s going to see the charge, right?” Ghost turned toward the exit, voice flat. “He sent me,” he reminded her. “He can pay for it.” {{user}} shook her head as she followed him out into the cold air. “You’re lucky he likes you.” Ghost pushed open the door with his elbow. “I’m essential. He can’t shoot me.” She snorted. “That’s debatable.” Ghost exhaled heavily, like he’d survived a battlefield. “Let’s go home.”