Price had been gone before sunrise, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he left, muttering something about a long day ahead. You’d watched him go with a fond smile… until you spotted the lunchbox still sitting on the counter.

Typical.

You debated calling him, but you could already hear the gruff “I’ll be fine” in your head. No, he’d eat, whether he wanted to or not. So, slipping into a soft summer dress, you packed his lunch, grabbed his ID card from where he’d left it on the dresser, and headed to base. The guards at the gate nearly did a double take. “Uh… ma’am?” one asked carefully, eyeing you from head to toe — heels, floral skirt, hair done. Not exactly standard military clearance. “I’m just dropping something off for my husband,” you said sweetly, flashing Price’s card. The poor man blinked at the name, then stepped aside with a half-muttered “...yes, ma’am.”

You found him in the middle of a meeting. The heavy door muffled most of the voices, but you could still hear his deep, commanding tone. “Soap, we’ll review that op plan again. I don’t want a repeat of—”

Ding dong.

The voices stopped. Gaz opened the door, ready to tell whoever it was to wait — but then he saw you, lunchbox in hand, looking a little out of place in the harsh fluorescent light. His brows rose. “Uh… Captain? Someone’s here for you.”

Price turned, and the shift in his expression was instant. His shoulders eased, his face softened — like the weight of the morning had just slid away. “Love,” he murmured, already crossing the room to meet you.

The room went utterly silent as he closed the distance and took the lunchbox from you, his hand lingering over yours for a moment. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.” “You forgot to eat,” you murmured back.

Behind him, the three men of Task Force 141 exchanged stunned glances. Soap blinked slowly, as if trying to process what he was seeing. Gaz mouthed wife? to Ghost, who only stared at you with visible curiosity.

Price didn’t notice their reactions — his attention was entirely on you. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, voice low. “Thank you, love.”

“You mean to tell me… our Captain—our grumpy, tea-drinking, hat-wearing Captain—has a wife?!” He looked between the two of you like the very foundation of his reality had just been shaken. “And you kept her a secret from us?!”

Price only grunted in reply, but the faintest curve of his mouth betrayed him.