Author's note:

Trying something different with very short chapters. I see so many other authors do this and it seems to work well for them, so I figured I should give it a shot. I hope this way I can get some momentum going and put out quick updates. They won't all be this short.

Since Upload-Gate happened (unable being to upload/post new material since Saturday) there has been a delay in getting this first chapter online, which means the second is almost done already.

The Princess With The Purple Heart

One

"Fresh meat!" Private First Class Chapple hollers as six new soldiers climb out of the back of the truck that has just pulled in through the North gate of the compound. The other two trucks with supplies and the accompanying Humvees come to a screeching halt at the back, stirring up a cloud of dust.

More soldiers emerge from their barracks and crowd the caravan.

"Rookie One, Rookie Two, Rookie Three," another private declares, passing by the line of new arrivals that get in formation to await instructions from their Sergeant. He taps their heads and flicks the cap off one of them to mess with them.

"Hey, I outrank you!" The Lance Corporal objects, bending down to pick up his cap. He brushes off the dry sand before putting it back on and resumes his at-ease position.

Private Follander scoffs and marches off. The Lance Corporal will soon find out that trying to pull rank on anyone isn't going to fly at Camp Sharana.

Duo is drawn to the commotion even though he has no interest in the new unit, nor the supplies that are being unloaded. He maneuvers around the men that carry crates of ammunition and weapons, as well as innocuous supplies like new fatigues and boots, from the truck to the storage building. He searches the faces, dipping his head to look under everyone's visors, which cast a sharp, dark shadow on their features as the rays of the Afghani sun beat down on them. He perks up when one of the men from his unit, standing by the Humvee at the very back, exclaims excitedly: "Here he is!"

Follander jogs over, calling: "Purple Heart!" And Duo follows him to the back.

All he sees is a huddle of men standing off to the side of the Humvee's passenger side until one of them urges with a mocking tone: "Take a step back, give him some space to get used to being back in the oven." The men part and Duo spots the Corporal standing amidst them. His dry, cracked lips hurt when a silly smile appears on his face. He pays no attention to the Staff Sergeant and the Gunnery Sergeant approaching the new unit that dutifully give salute and he rushes over to his own unit.

"Purple Heart," he says and his smile widens when blue eyes look his way. He cuts through the crowd of six men and pulls the soldier into a tight hug, excessively patting his back before pulling away and holding onto his shoulders as he studies him. "You look good," he concludes and Duo is relieved to be able to say so. He didn't looks so good last time he saw him.

"He looks moisturized," Follander chimes in. "Looks like them rookies again."

"He'll dry out soon enough," another retorts.

Heero's gaze flits from one man to another, looking grateful to see all of them.

Duo fits an arm around the shorter man's shoulders and pulls him along. "Let me show you our new digs!" He glances at the strap of the heavy duffel bag cutting into Heero's shoulder but resists the urge to offer to carry it for him.

"I like it," Heero declares, looking around himself.

"You ain't seen nothing yet. We have actual plumbing here," Duo reveres.

The Corporal chuckles. "Yeah, that's not actually all that impressive after just spending six weeks stateside. You remember we have plumbing there too, right?" He jabs his elbow at Duo's ribs.

"Barely. C'mon. I have a surprise for you." He steers him past the Mess Hall and Sergeant offices to the barracks by the east wall of the compound. The buildings are just small, stone squares with flat roofs, baked by the relentless desert sun. Each barrack only has a single, small window – which isn't really a window so much as a few missing bricks in the wall, by the front door. He guides his friend to a smaller barrack in the back, where a green curtain billows out and the door is still open. He rambles on about the amenities of the new camp.

Last time Heero was with the unit, they were stationed at Forward Operating Base Delaram, which was a hell-hole, where twenty-four men were crammed into one tent, and you had to dig a hole outside of the compound's fencing every time you needed to take a dump. FOB Sharana was paradise in comparison and he was giddy to show Heero around and get him settled in as soon as possible, so everything could return to normal. It had been odd having to go six weeks without the blue-eyed Corporal by his side.

"Ta-da!" Duo declares proudly as he ushers his friend into the small space. "I already made your bed for you." He nods at one of only two beds in the barrack.

"Just two beds?" Heero marvels.

"Yeah. There are six- and four-person barracks too, but I confiscated this one for us. Since you got shot and all."

"Well, if you'd really want to do me a favor you'd let me room with someone else," Heero jokes.

"Liar."

"And you've had this all to yourself since you got reassigned here?"

"Nah, I've been stuck with Chapple, but I kicked his ass back to bunk with Follander, Flint and Lindsey."

Heero walks in and puts his duffel down by the freshly made bed and takes off his cap so he can wipe the sweat off his brow with the back of his hands.

"Missed ya, man," Duo admits, but before the other can tease him over the sentiment, he extols: "And look at this! Actual, honest to God, walls." He pats the brick wall, which is dusty just like everything else in Afghanistan.

Heero chuckles. "Very impressive."

"Wanna see the Rec Hall? We have a fucking basketball hoop and a Foosball-table."

"I should check in with the Staff Sergeant first."

"Right. Right." He chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to calm his excessive enthusiasm. "Gotta make us all look bad by getting right back to followin' the rules and shit."

Heero doesn't respond to the mockery with anything more than a smile. He heads out, but pauses in the doorway and looks back at the excitable Lance Corporal. "What's with the new nickname?" He wonders with a tilt of his head. "I had just gotten used to being Rookie Four."

"Well, there's a new batch of rookies now," Duo explains offhandedly. The unit had been calling him that since he first joined them on their tour over two years ago, only because he was new on base at the time and remained the newest addition to their unit because, thankfully, they hadn't lost anyone since the soldier he was sent to replace. He was due for a new moniker, because everyone knew damn well Heero was the best of them. They were all skeptical of him at first, because he was short and his delicate features belied his resolute commitment to the Marines and to their unit specifically, but he soon proved all of their doubts wrong.

"So it's Purple Heart from now on, huh?"

"Ahuh. You earned it, brother." He forces on a smirk. Remembering the day he "earned it" still makes it difficult to smile. "It fits. And we all need to be reminded of what kind of guy you are."

"Oh yeah?" Heero quirks his eyebrow, fishing for a compliment.

"Yeah. The kind of guy that is brave enough to save our asses… but dumb enough to get shot." Heero's laughter rings in Duo's ears and it hits him how much he has missed the sound. He chuckles along sheepishly.

"I'll be back in a bit and you can show me the Foosball-table."

"See ya, Purple Heart."

"Bye-bye, Princess."

You know where this is headed… ;) Smut and Angst, my friends. Smut and Angst.

What do you think about our favorite boys getting dropped into the Afghani-war (story is set in the Don't-ask-don't-tell era)? I know it's nothing new, but it's new for me. I promise I won't get too political.