After a mission gone sideways thanks to bad intel, Task Force 141 had no choice but to lay low. The temporary housing was decent enough, safe, quiet, nothing to draw attention. But there was one glaring problem.

No pets allowed.

Which meant Riley was off with Laswell’s wife, and though none of them would admit it, the apartment felt a little emptier without him. So when they noticed the neighbor, {{user}} had a dog, an unspoken understanding passed between them.

A note was carefully penned and slid under the door:

"Hello, we’re your neighbors in 23. We couldn’t help but notice you have a dog, and well… we have one too, but he’s currently staying elsewhere. We’d love the chance to come say hello, if you and your pup are open to it. We promise we’re good for treats and belly rubs. If interested, feel free to text or stop by. Thanks either way!"

They signed their names, scrawled their number, and waited.

Days passed. Then one evening, returning from a supply run, they found an envelope taped to their door.

"To The Boys in 23."

Soap ripped it open, practically vibrating as Price unfolded the letter. And there, stamped at the bottom, was an inked paw print.

With a smirk, Price read aloud:

"Hello, Boys in 23. My human says you’d like to visit me. I have consulted my schedule (chasing my tail, barking at ghosts, napping) and I’m willing to make time in exchange for treats and belly rubs. Please bring the goods. Tail wags and sloppy kisses, your new best friend."

The room erupted.

Roach fist-pumped. Gaz grinned ear to ear. Ghost, of all people, muttered, *“This is the best day of my life.”*Nikolai was already grabbing the best dog treats he could find.