The Prince of Wales Terrace in South Kensington was everything you'd expect from one of the most charming corners of London. It had the kind of charm that made tourists swoon, with its elegant Victorian buildings and wide, tree-lined streets.

Inside Soap and Cam's duplex, though, it was less about charm and more about comfort.

The living room reflected both their personalities. The walls were a muted gray, balanced with pops of color from Niamh's clean, modern furniture. A navy-blue rug stretched beneath a sectional couch that practically begged for lazy afternoons. And then there was Soap's Corner—a gaming setup so over-the-top it could double as a small control center. His favorite mismatched cushions were thrown randomly across the couch, alongside a stack of his comics and an old mug with a chipped handle he refused to throw away.

Cameron "Cam" Faith Price moved through the kitchen, her hands working as she stirred a pot of simmering sauce.

The scent of garlic and herbs filled the air, mingling with the faint sound of sizzling meat in the pan beside it.

Her fiery orange-red hair—thick and almost wavy—was lazily tied back into a ponytail. It was a stark contrast to her icy blue eyes, sharp and clear, a trait she'd inherited from her father. They were striking, intense in a way that made people take a second look, but right now, they were relaxed, focused on the meal she was preparing.

Cam wasn't overly muscular, but she had a lean, toned build—enough to show the discipline of someone who had spent years pushing her body through training and recovery.

Yet, the strength beneath her skin, she carried a certain softness that balanced out her sharp edges.

She had changed into one of her favorite home outfits—an oversized sweatshirt (one of Soap's, though she'd never admit it) and a pair of black athletic shorts. The sleeves were long enough to partially cover her hands, and she occasionally had to push them up while working. The material was soft, worn from years of use, making it perfect for lounging around after a long day.

Across the kitchen, Soap was deep into an online match.

Again.

Seated on the couch, wearing his usual sweats and a T-shirt, he was hunched forward, eyes glued to the screen, his fingers moving over the buttons. His headset rested snugly over his mohawk, and from what she could hear, he was not having a good time.

"Oi, you absolute wanker!" Soap snapped at the screen. "How the hell did ye pull that off? That was bollocks!"

Cam, chopping fresh parsley at the counter, bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She glanced over her shoulder to see his character in the game get absolutely demolished.

Another dramatic groan. "Yer tellin' me that killed me? That?! Oh, come on, man!"

The game was clearly winning tonight.

Nearby, their two golden retrievers stirred from their napping spots on the couch. The yellow one, Pepper, lazily lifted his head, tail wagging as he watched Soap get increasingly frustrated. The white one, Ace, let out a big sigh and flopped over, completely unimpressed with the noise.

Cam turned back to her cooking, stirring the sauce one last time before shutting off the burner. "Dinner's ready," she called over her shoulder.

No answer.

She wiped her hands on a towel and tried again. "Johnny."

Still nothing.

The game beeped. Then another groan. "I swear if one more bastard camps in that spot—"

Cam rolled her eyes. "Soap."

Nothing.

Fine. She'd get his attention.

Wiping her hands clean, she walked over to the couch and leaned down behind him. Without warning, she pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, just below his ear.

Soap froze.

"Come eat," she murmured against his skin.

His grip on the controller tightened. "...Give me one more round."

She pressed another kiss—this time on his head. "Johnny..."

He exhaled sharply. "Ah, bloody hell—" He ripped off the headset and threw the controller onto the couch. "Fine, fine, I'm comin'."

Satisfied, Cam smiled and moved back toward the dining table. The two retrievers perked up, their tails thumping against the couch as they followed, hoping for a taste of whatever was on their plates.

Soap plopped down across from her, still grumbling about the game as he reached for his fork. "I swear, love, I think the whole lobby is just hacking."

Cam snorted as she took a bite of pasta. "Or maybe you're just bad."

Soap gave her a look, pointing his fork at her. "Traitor."

She smirked. "Eat."

Soap took a few bites, letting out a satisfied hum at the taste, before glancing at her. "Yer a great cook, ye know that?"

Cam smiled. "Glad you think so."

They ate in comfortable silence for a bit, with only the occasional scraping of forks against plates or the soft shuffle of their dogs lying down beside the table.

Then, after a few minutes, Soap leaned back in his chair and gave her a look.

Cam raised an eyebrow. "What?"

He hesitated, then sighed. "I might've done somethin' that you're gonna kill me."

Cam blinked. "What do you mean?"

He scratched the back of his head. "You and yer dad."

She paused.

"What... did you do, Johnny?"

Soap shifted, taking a big sip of his drink before answering. "I... might've set him up."

Cam frowned. "Set him up? With what?"

Soap winced. "With someone."

There was silence.

Cam stared at him.

"I put yer dad on SparkMatch," Soap said casually.

"You what?" Cam set her fork down and stared at him hard.

Soap, as if realizing there was no good way out of this, just kept talking. "Well, he talked to someone already, which means he didn't completely hate it."

Cam blinked again. "You're joking."

"I wish I was."

"Tell me you're lying."

Soap raised a hand. "Would never lie to ye, love."

Her eyes widened. "Johnny, are you kidding me?!"

"Now, hold on!" He leaned forward, all innocence. "It's not that bad—"

"It's that bad," Cam snapped. "You set up my dad? Without telling me? Or him?"

Soap shrugged. "He knows now."

She gaped at him. "Oh my God."

"Look, I know how it sounds—"

"No, I don't think you do."

Soap ran a hand over his face. "Babe, listen, I did it 'cause yer dad's a loner. The man's been married to the bloody job his whole life. He needs to get out."

Cam shook her head. "You can't force him into dating!"

"I didn't force him—" Soap said and frowned. "I just pushed him in the right direction."

"Johnny, you literally catfished my dad into a dating app."

His eyes widened. "I did not catfish him!"

Cam leaned forward, voice flat. "Did he know about the app before you signed him up?"

It took him a few second to shut his mouth as he paused until he said slowly, "...Technically, no."

"That's catfishing," she frowned back in return.

"Okay. Maybe it was a little sneaky. But it worked."

"You don't even know who he's talking to," Cam said, staring at him in disbelief.

Soap grinned. "Oh, but I do. Cute, young, American."

Her jaw dropped. "Young?!"

Soap nodded enthusiastically. "Aye! And he didn't shut it down, so clearly, he likes young missus."

Cam looked away and pressed her fingers to her temples. "I cannot believe you did this."

"Love, I did him a favor. He's gonna thank me one day."

She glanced at him back and added, "Or he's gonna kill you."

He smirked at her in return. "Worth it."

Cam groaned, leaning back in her chair, feeling exhausted already. Ace and Pepper, completely unaware of the argument, simply wagged their tails beside them.

"Oi, don't be mad," Soap reached over and grabbed her hand in reassurance.

"Oh, I'm not mad," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why would I be mad? My sweet, well-intentioned boyfriend just signed up my father—who could kill anyone with his bare hands and his favorite sidearm—onto a damn dating app without telling him or me. That's just fantastic."

"But, you'll see the result," Soap said before grinning cheekily.

Cam pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling deeply. "I swear to God, Johnny."

"Listen," Soap started, scooting his chair a little closer. "Ye're lookin' at this the wrong way."

"Oh, am I?" Cam deadpanned, folding her arms.

Soap leaned on the table, all charm and mischief. "Yer dad needs a woman in his life. He's been alone too long, babe. Always puttin' work before himself. Man barely takes a bloody vacation."

Cam opened her mouth to argue but paused. Because... yeah. Soap wasn't wrong.

Still.

"Okay, but why SparkMatch? Why not—I don't know—let him meet someone naturally?"

Soap scoffed. "Ah, come on. Ye think he's just gonna walk into a bar, chat up a woman, and ask for her number? The man doesn't date. Ya father prefers one night visit and move on, but I'm not the judge here. He has been through it all before you were born or after.... or whatever he does while you were still a wee little girl. If he ever did, it was probably before the dinosaurs."

Cam exhaled sharply, tapping her nails against the table. "I get what you were trying to do, but Johnny, this was not the way."

Soap tilted his head. "Why not?"

She shot him a steely look.

He held up a hand in defense. "I did it because I care, alright? I respect yer dad. I don't wanna see him end up an old grumpy bastard with only cigars and a rifle for company."

Cam sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't even wanna imagine my dad dating someone young. That's nightmare fuel!"

Soap shrugged before he goes back to eating. "Eh, maybe. But this lass he talked to? I think he likes her."

Cam squinted. "Who is she?"

Soap took a bite and swallowed. "Some American missus named Charlie."

"Charlie?"

"Charlotte." Soap quickly said.

Her eyes narrowed further. "How old is she?"

"Not, like, illegal young, love, relax," Soap said nonchalantly. "She's in her twenties like you are."

Cam just stared at him, horrified. "You set my almost forty-year-old father up with someone in her twenties?!"

Soap blinked twice. "Okay, when ye say it like that, it sounds—"

"Disgusting?"

Soap scoffed. "Okay, hear me out—some women love older men."

Cam threw her hands up. "You do not get to 'hear me out' your way out of this!"

Soap, completely unfazed, continued. "And some men need someone younger to shake 'em up, ye know? Keep 'em on their toes."

"I hate that I'm still listening," Cam said before burying her face in her hands. Ignoring her food now.

Soap reached out and tugged one of her hands down. "Come on, sunshine. Just consider it."

She considered it.

And immediately regretted it.

"My dad is seeing someone young..." she muttered under her breath. "Nope. No, my brain is rejecting that image."

Soap smirked. "Might wanna get used to it, love."

Cam groaned, dramatically slumping back in her chair. "If this goes horribly wrong, I'm allowing my dad to dig a grave for you to lay on since it was your idea."

Soap grinned. "Fine by me. But you'll miss me enough to revive me back to life."

Cam shook her head before her gaze returned to her plate.

God help me.