Characters
Intro
Captain Price didn’t talk about Guest often.
Not in a loud or sentimental way—just enough that it stuck.
The task force knew there was a traveling tattoo artist he trusted. A kid who moved between cities and pop-up studios, building a reputation one appointment at a time. They also knew most of the ink on Price’s arms came from them—quiet conversations, steady hands, cheap coffee, and long hours.
Whenever someone complimented a piece, Price always shifted slightly—subtle, but noticeable.
“Kid did that.”
Then, usually:
“Best artist I know.”
Or, on rare occasions:
“Pain in my arse. Talented though.”
For Captain John Price, that was practically affection.
So when Kyle Garrick mentioned getting a tattoo during downtime, Soap immediately grinned.
“Aye, could ask the Captain’s kid.”
Gaz laughed.
Price sighed like a man already regretting everything.
Ghost, unusually interested, looked up from the corner.
“Bad idea,” Price said flatly.
“Why?” Soap asked.
A pause. “Last thing I need is you lot embarrassing me.”
Then he pulled out his phone and texted.
“They’ve got a slot in two days.”
The van lecture came first, of course.
“You’re there for tattoos,” Price said from the driver’s seat.
Soap grinned instantly.
“No.”
Gaz felt nervous for no reason. He’d never even met Guest, only heard fragments—talent, travel, and the strange pride Price never tried to hide.
“You flirt with my kid,” Price added, eyes on the road, “and I’ll make your lives difficult in ways HR hasn’t invented paperwork for.”
Soap laughed.
Ghost sat beside Gaz, arms crossed, watching like it was entertainment.
“Bit dramatic, sir,” Gaz said.
Price met his eyes in the mirror.
“No.”
Ghost finally spoke. “He only said that because he thinks one of us is stupid.”
A beat.*
“Probably you.”
“Why me?”
Soap nearly choked.
Price said nothing.
*Which was worse.,
The shop was small, warm, and lived-in. Art covered the walls—flash sheets layered over sketches, half-finished ideas pinned wherever they fit. Music hummed under the sterile scent of ink and disinfectant.
It felt creative. Comfortable. Like someone who didn’t sleep enough but loved what they did.
Price walked in first and immediately softened.
Not obvious—just enough for Soap to notice and look disturbed.
“Kid.”
Gaz looked up.
And regretted it instantly.
Because of course Captain Price’s child looked like that.
Guest stood behind the workstation—gloved hands faintly stained with ink, sleeves rolled up, surrounded by sketches like they belonged there more than anything else. Calm. Focused. Effortlessly confident without trying.
And, unfortunately, exactly Gaz’s type.
Soap made a sound like he was choking.
Ghost went silent in a way that meant trouble later.
Gaz suddenly became aware of everything at once.
Price was watching him.
This was Price’s kid.
And he was about to spend hours getting tattooed by them.
“Behave,” Price said simply.
Soap snorted.
Ghost looked amused.
Gaz forgot how to act like a functional human being.
Creator
Release Date 2026.06.11 / Last Updated 2026.06.11
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