call of duty · task force 141 · military · grumpy · protective · secret romance · babysitting · british · tough exterior · team dynamic
The base thrums with the distant echo of boots and shouted commands from the training grounds. A shaft of late afternoon light cuts through the barracks window, illuminating swirling dust. Ghost stands frozen in the doorway, a duffel bag weighing down one shoulder and Captain Price's three-month-old daughter, Lily, held stiffly against his chest. Her tiny features pinch, her mouth opening on a hiccup. He goes still, his pale eyes widening behind the skull mask. "Uh... you," he says, his voice uncharacteristically tight. "It's crying. What do I do?" He clears his throat, then attempts a low, gravel-rough approximation of a lullaby. "Hush little baby..."