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The first hint that something was off came when Price had turned Gaz down for the team's movie night.
"I'm sorry," he had said, "but I can't do Friday night, I already have something."
Friday was the only night that would work for the rest of them, and it was Price so he should have been free. It wasn't that Price couldn't do things on Friday nights, it's just that he didn't.
Price was an old man - sure, he wasn't even 40 yet, but at heart he was. He retired to bed by 9:30 most nights, waking bright and early between 4 and 5am most days to drag the rest of them from their beds. He never went out with the team when they got drinks, unless he knew for certain they were just visiting a pub.
He had made the mistake of coming with them to a bar once, and two pints and a half hour later, he had clapped them on the back, telling them this was absolutely not his scene and to please never invite him again before heading home early.
So sure, Price had no reason not to be doing something on a Friday night, but as far as Gaz knew he had no interest in it at all.
The second sign something was off had appeared in the locker rooms of their gym, as Gaz and Price were washing up after some sparring.
Gaz knew that it was rude to stare, of course, which was why he only did it on occasion, and when he knew the other party wasn't looking. It wasn't as if he intended to act on his staring, anyway. But he was allowed to look.
He knew his teammates were attractive - it was one of the perks of working in the armed forces - and he had never been ashamed of sneaking a glance or two after a workout. It wasn't like he was actually interested - Price called him "son" more often than most actual fathers used the term, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see him as something of a paternal figure. It would be weird to actually do anything. But that didn't mean he couldn't admire the view.
Hell, he and Soap practically flirted constantly, and Soap was a taken man. It had gotten so bad that after Ghost had finally popped the question, the rumour had gone around base that Gaz and Soap were engaged. So Gaz was no stranger to platonic flirting and ogling.
That being said, Gaz hadn't really ogled Price all that much over the years. And he was almost mad that he hadn't, because dangling from the same chain as his dog tags was a ring. And some nagging feeling told Gaz that it looked just a little too much like a wedding band.
He was fairly certain that it was new, but even that raised questions. When had the captain managed to find time to go get married? Why hadn't he told any of them about it? And who on Earth was he even married to?
He had half a mind to go ask him, but then there would be questions about why he was staring enough to notice. And Gaz knew that if Price didn't want him to know, he'd just redirect, and that would be it. No, if Gaz wanted answers he would have to get them himself.
The third sign - the one that confirmed it for Gaz - came when he had gone to the man to get some documents signed off on. It was routine, and Price was expecting him, so Gaz hadn't bothered to knock. The door was ajar, after all, so it should be fine to come in without announcing himself, right?
Price had been on the phone, which in itself was not unusual, spun away from the door in his desk chair and sounding entirely unprofessional as he spoke. It was the kind of tone Gaz had only heard in downtime with the team, and even then it was rare. So why was Price taking a call on his work phone like that?
"I can't wait either, love" said Price, and then Gaz understood. This was the mystery spouse then.
"Ah, shit," said Price, turning back towards the doorway, "I'll have to call you back, Gaz has just joined me."
Setting the phone down, Price looked up at Gaz.
"Here to get those signed off on?" he asked, gesturing to the documents.
"Yes, Sir." said Gaz. He wasn't sure whether it would be rude to ask about who was on the phone just now.
Price signed the documents in silence, as Gaz worried over whether he should ask or not. When he was done signing them, Price didn't hand the documents back over though, holding onto them as he looked back at Gaz.
"Go on then," said Price, "spit it out."
"Huh?" asked Gaz, taken aback.
"You clearly have something you want to ask me," he said, "so ask it already, Garrick."
"Ah, sorry Sir, it's just… who were you on the phone with just now?" He was afraid he wouldn't get an answer, that Price might yell at him for asking such an invasive question, but instead the man just laughed.
"Christ, Gaz, you had me worried there with how stressed you looked." said Price, leaning back in his seat, "Was just talking to the mister. He's gonna join us in about a week so I'm a little excited."
"The… mister?" asked Gaz.
"Yes, Gaz, the mister. My husband. Now head off, don't you have recruits you're supposed to be training?"
Shit. Price was right, he was supposed to be doing that. Scurrying off, he didn't have any time to further question just who exactly Price's mystery husband was.
"Ugh," said Soap, taking his place opposite Gaz in the mess hall, "Ghost just told me we're getting a visitor tomorrow."
"A visitor?" asked Gaz, "What's the issue with that?"
"It's Graves." said Soap. "I know the fucker's turned a new leaf, or whatever, but I still don't like him.”
“God,” said Gaz, he wasn’t looking forward to seeing him either, “what’s he doing here?”
“I dunno,” said Soap, “helping out with clean up after all the shit he caused for us, hopefully.”
There was a nagging feeling in the back of Gaz’s mind that he had missed something. There were dots to connect here and it just wasn’t happening. He tried to think back on the last few days. What was he missing that was so familiar about all this?
As he glanced across the mess hall, his eyes landed on Price, talking with someone. That was it - Price’s mystery man would be arriving soon, just in time for Graves’ visit. God, Gaz was looking forward to that interaction. He couldn’t imagine fully how much they would clash, but he was excited to witness it nonetheless.
“Hey,” said Gaz, “did you know that Price is married?”
“No?” said Soap, “how long has that been going on?”
Brilliant. Soap knew nothing, which meant that Gaz got to explain it all to him. He was looking forward to this.
Soap and Gaz had been chatting about a new explosive set up that Soap wanted to try as they walked towards the gym together. Soap had just begun to defend the fact that you would need to be in close proximity to actually detonate it, when he suddenly went deadly silent.
“Soap?” he asked, a little worried. What on Earth could have shut him up this quickly?
“Oh, Sergeant MacTavish, it’s good to see you again,” said a familiar voice, and Gaz tried not to groan. Graves. That was what had shut Soap up.
“It’s uh… I’m certainly seeing you too,” said Soap, and Gaz had to withhold a laugh as Graves’ face fell a little.
“What brings you here, Graves?” asked Gaz, hoping that whatever the answer was he could use it to sidestep the man later.
“Oh, did Price not tell you?” replied Graves, and it seemed as if he was about to keep talking when Ghost rushed in, looking a little frantic.
“Johnny, Gaz, I need your assistance on something, like, ten minutes ago.”
“What is it?” asked Gaz, already following.
“I’m not entirely sure, beyond the fact that it is ticking and distinctly Soap’s handiwork.”
“Shit,” hissed Soap as he followed behind them, “yeah, that one might be my bad. We should probably be running.”
Graves had been on base with them for almost a week before Gaz found out what he was doing there. He had thought it was weird that he hadn’t seen Price’s husband yet, but figured that the man just hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe there was a delay with his visit.
Oh, how wrong he had been.
Gaz was rapidly learning that just because Price’s office was unlocked didn’t mean he should enter unannounced. He just needed to get some paperwork signed, Goddamnit. Why did this always have to happen?
He had taken one step into the office, too distracted by the paperwork in hand to look up initially, and he hadn’t processed anything out of place except for the vague sound of rustling fabric. In retrospect, that should have been sign enough to leave, but why on Earth would Gaz have suspected that it was a warning of what was to come?
“Hey, Captain,” he had said, before looking up, “I just needed you to-”
“Sergeant Garrick.” said Graves, who was currently sitting in Price’s lap, “Fancy seeing you here.”
“What.” said Gaz.
“Gaz,” said Price, who currently had Graves in his lap, a crime that could not be forgiven, “so this is my husband.”
Gaz left the office.
“Did any of you know that Price is married to fucking Graves?” yelled Gaz.
“Price is married to Graves?” yelled Soap back.
“How the fuck did neither of you know they were married?” asked Ghost, who seemed remarkably calm.
“Did you know this?” asked Gaz, horrified that anyone could contain this knowledge and not lose all sanity from it.
“Yeah?” said Ghost, “They’ve been married for years? How did you not know this?”
“Graves?” asked Gaz, “Graves who almost got us all killed? That Graves? He is married to Price?”
“Yeah?” said Ghost, “s’not like anyone else here has much better taste in men.”
“Hey!” said Soap, “Don’t talk down about yourself like that!”
“Anyway,” said Ghost, “I don’t know why you think this is such a big deal, it’s not like it changes anything.”
“This is… disturbed,” said Gaz, completely unable to accept this new information, “what the fuck.”
“Could you three stop yelling?” asked Price, and Gaz turned to see him and Graves enter the room.
“You’re married?” yelled Soap, and Graves cringed a little.
“And to him?” asked Gaz.
“For a group of highly intelligent and well trained operatives, you sure are fuckin’ unobservant.” said Price, “It wasn’t as if we exactly tried to keep this a secret.”
“How long has this even been going on?” said Soap, “How can we trust you with this kind of a secret?”
“We’ve been married six years,” said Price, “I truly, genuinely assumed that you muppets knew by now.”
“Six years?” yelled Soap.
“Next you’ll be telling me you didn’t know that Kate’s married to Valeria.” said Price, far too casually.
“Laswell’s wife is Valeria?” yelled Gaz.
“Could you all please stop yelling?” asked Graves, voice barely audible over the raucous.
“I cannot believe you’re married to a fucking war criminal,” said Soap.
“You’re a war criminal,” said Ghost.
“I cannot believe I’m married to a man who’s married to a fucking war criminal!”
“Alright, everyone,” said Price, voice cutting through the yelling, “everyone shut up for a minute.”
Thankfully, Soap didn’t make a snarky comment at that. Gaz considered making one himself, but decided otherwise after the look Price shot him.
“Phil and I-” began Price.
“Phil?” questioned Soap.
“Phil and I,” said Price, “have been married for a long time. I do not know how you failed to notice this. I do not know how I ended up in charge of so many idiots, but somehow I did. Does anyone have any questions? Serious questions, Soap.”
Soap lowered his hand sheepishly.
“How did this not come up when he tried to kill me?” asked Soap, after a moment.
“First of all, he didn’t kill you, so be happy about that.” said Price. “Secondly, I don’t see what that has to do with anything. Did you want me to magically realise that my husband shot you and call you up - despite the fact I had no way of doing so - just to let you know that we were married?”
“Well,” said Soap, “I would have appreciated it.”
“Jesus Christ,” muttered Price.
“Actually,” said Gaz, “I have a question.”
“Am I going to like it?” asked Price.
“Probably not,” he admitted, “but I’m still going to ask it.”
“Bloody hell, alright, hit me with it.”
“Isn’t Graves kind of… young for you?” Gaz asked, and watched as Price broke almost immediately into hysterical laughter. Graves, on the other hand, was blushing bright red, face hidden in his hands.
Gaz felt a little as if he’d stumbled into an in joke he knew nothing about.
“Yeah,” said Soap, “that’s a good point actually. You’re kinda robbing the cradle on this one, aren’t you Captain?”
Price had not yet recovered from his laughter, and Gaz was becoming concerned. What on Earth was so funny to him?
Graves mumbled something out, but with his face still in his hands, Gaz couldn’t make out a lick of it. Ghost must have, however, because he barked out a laugh at the response, whatever it was.
“Price isn’t robbing the cradle at all,” explained Ghost, as Price slowly began to recover his senses, “Graves is three years older than him.”
“What.” said Gaz. He was learning a lot of difficult to reconcile information tonight.
“So what,” said Soap, shit-eating grin on his face, “you’re robbing the grave then?”
Ghost punched him in the arm for that.
“I’m sorry,” said Price, “it’s just. Everyone thinks he’s so young looking. It’s the baby face. I just, I dunno, figured you knew.”
The room fell into a silence then, Soap and Gaz making eye contact across the space. He wasn’t sure exactly what had caused all this, but it was absurd, and Gaz half expected to wake up from a dream in a few moments time.
“Well,” said Price, “if that’s all, we’ll be off then.”
The two turned away, walking out, before Price turned back for a moment.
“Oh, and Gaz?” he said, “Please, for the love of all that is holy, fuckin’ knock next time.”
“Yes, Sir,” Gaz squeaked out.