A spin-off to 'All is fair in love and war' to explore what happens to those that did not get such a happy ending then. A story about Bones and Georgie. Was intended to be a one-shot but now that I got started I think it will be a few chapters.

CHAPTER 1

Bones

I had packed everything that belonged to me in a few carton boxes and bags. It was depressingly little, so it would fit into a car, no moving van needed. I removed the key from my key ring and put it down on the kitchen table, while taking a last glance around the apartment. Molly's Birmingham apartment which I also had called home whenever I was in UK, home because she had been there. This was for sure the last time I would be here, the last time I would be in the presence of her things and the rooms that reflected her in a way that made it feel like she would come through the door any minute, but she was still in Afghan. I resisted the urge to go and bury my face in her bed pillow to see if I could still smell her, it would be too pathetic. I did not cry either, I was done with that, depleted of tears, but I felt immense sadness. This was the end to what I had thought would be the relationship of my life, but fate had wanted it different.

Some say that if you fall off the horse you should just try to get back up in the saddle right away, but I had no intention to. Not in the sense that I would throw myself into another relationship, or even meaningless shagging. I would focus on work and only that, I thought to myself as I drove the stuff to a wharehouse for storing it. I had no intention to get a new home in UK in the foreseeable future, so I would put my things away just like my emotions. I intended to work and travel as much as I possibly could, so I would not have to be reminded of her, think of her, miss her every fucking second.

This time when the airplane left Brize Norton, I left absolutely nothing behind that I would be missing.

Georgie

"Are you sure?" she asked me.

"Never been surer about anything in my life", I said.

But as she sighed and started moving the cold steel of the scissors through my hair, cutting it off strand by strand, I thought that was a lie. There were many other things I had been surer about.

I had been sure that Elvis loved me.

I had been sure that we were going to get married.

I had been sure that we would live happily ever after.

I had been sure that he would never let me down.

And I had been fucking mistaken about everything.

Today, however, I was sure that I wanted to cut all my hair off and no one was going to take that away from me. I was so tired of everyone looking at me like I was a pretty doll, an object for men's desire and other girls' jealousy, which I often felt prevented me from forming real friendships with either of the sexes. I wanted to be judged for the person I was, not for how I looked and definitely not for how I had been treated in the past. The pity-look was the worst of all; the you're-so-beautiful-and-yet-you-could-not-keep-the-man-you-loved-look. Whenever I got that look, and it was quite often, I felt like just smashing the face in on the person who gave it - but I never did. Not up to now anyway.

"Are you sure you don't want to keep it in a nice bob at least?" Janine, the hairdresser asked me.

"No. All off. Short", I snapped even if I knew she just meant to be kind.

"Your mum will cry, Georgie."

"I think there are far worse things in life than cutting of one's hair."

She knew my story and understood what I referred to. I looked down, so I escaped the pity-look and she started cutting without further protests.

When she was ready, I ran my fingers through the little hair that was left on my scalp and felt more pleased looking at myself than I had in a long time. I could be mistaken for a boy. A boy with long eyelashes, but anyway. I felt prepared for the tour I was leaving for tomorrow. Finally, I would escape from home. I had been dying to ever since Elvis jilted me at the altar, because life here was now unbearable. I did not care if people thought I was running away, because I was. And I intended to keep running for a long time.

I joined the rest of my section at Brize Norton next day. There were many raised eyebrows but fewer comments, they were probably discouraged when Brains tried a joke;

"You know, they say when you get a new haircut, it's a sign you actually want a new life."

"I got myself a new haircut, so I'll get a new life. One without men. Any questions on that?" I lashed out and that silenced the banter which I was not really in the mood for. I was not a funny, flirty girl anymore. That personality had gone with Elvis and now I finally had an outside which matched better how I felt inside. I felt like someone who has cried until there are no more tears. Someone who had hardened and would survive but was not very happy, and someone who never wanted to be hit on again, least of all by a fellow squaddie

Two years later….

Bones

We were in need of a medic for our ongoing operation. Or rather, I would feel more comfortable having one on the team, because I knew it was high risk and if anyone was injured, we would be far from the nearest hospital so a medic who could give acute help could make the difference between life and death.

We were on a covert op in Nigeria, me, Spanner and Peanut. I reached out to central command to see if there were any sections deployed in the not too distant area, to see if we miraculously could borrow a medic for a few days. It turned that one section was engaged in a medical outreach project and luckily, they were two medics due to the nature of the mission and we would be allowed to borrow the more experienced of them, a lance corporal Lane. There was only one disadvantage; the captain in command was one which I preferred never to meet again, but I had no choice if I wanted this medic.

We arrived at the base before lunchtime. I was eager to connect with the medic and get going as soon as possible, but it turned out that the entire section was away in a nearby village over the day and I decided to go there. I almost immediately spotted Captain James. I knew he had been informed about the situation and given his permission for Lane to come with us a few days, but I did not think he knew I was the captain of the SF team that would come get Lane.

"Captain McClyde", he greeted me somewhat stiffly. "I didn't know that it was you who would borrow our medic."

"James", I greeted him curtly in return. "Is that a problem? That it's me?"

I could not help thinking bitterly that last time it was him taking someone away from me, but I pushed it way, did not want to go down that track.

"Of course not. We have two with us as this is a medical outreach project, but we can spare one of them for a few days and due to the nature of your mission, you get the most experienced one. Lance corporal Lane has an impressing track record."

I nodded, and then I could not resist to ask, even if I was not sure if I really wanted to know;

"How's Molly?"

"Wasn't sure you wanted to know… but she's fine. We're fine."

He looked at me searchingly, seemed to hesitate how much information I wanted, but then decided to go for the open approach.

"We're married, and we have a little girl. Another baby is on the way."

It hurt, but in a distant way like if it was happening to someone ese. Time had done its magic healing the invisible wounds to a large extent.

"And how does that work out, with you being away?"

I still nurtured some small hope he would say it was a disaster and they were rapidly drifting apart, but he smiled, a man clearly in love.

"Surprisingly well. This is my first tour since Afghan and I've decided I will try to only go on these type of missions, not outright war zones, and I keep to regimental work as much as I can. We live in Aldershot, so both of us can work there."

"Happy it worked out so well for you."

The words that came out of my mouth were delivered in a tone dripping of sarcasm, I just could not help myself. It is difficult to feel generous towards someone who won the woman you loved, but I was actually glad to hear that Molly seemed to lead a happy life. I wished her nothing else.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry, you asked how she was, but I'll spare you further details. If you want to talk to George Lane you should head over there."

He nodded towards an open tent they had set up to be able to work shadowed from the blazing sun, where children seemed to be getting inoculations by a medic. When I saw the medic, who was supposed to be assigned to my team, I could not help snorting.

"It's a boy!"

James cocked his eyebrow and smirked.

"I can assure you lance corporal Lane is not a boy."

"This is a dangerous mission and I need a man, not a boy. Someone experienced."

"As I said, Lane is very experienced, has an excellent track record and is very dedicated to the job. It's also the medic I have to offer. I think you should go and have a chat with Lane."

And he turned and left. I approached the tent, watching the short, slender, dark haired boy. He had a bone structure so delicate it looked like I could easily snap him in two halves, like a toothpick. We would just have to hope that he was made of tougher material than he looked and would cut it. I watched him work, bent over a child and I had to admit that he seemed efficient and self-confident. When that child was ready, I interrupted.

"Lance Corporal Lane? I'd like a word with you."

He straightened and looked up at me, and I realised why James had smirked when he said that George Lane was not a boy. Not a man either, she was a woman. She seemed to do her best to look like a boy though, in a quite bad, short haircut and a size of the uniform that did not fit tight on her small frame, but even so it was impossible to hide once you saw her face and large brown eyes. It took me by surprise, which I did not like, and I could not stop myself from blurting out;

"George? Seriously?"

She got an annoyed V-shaped wrinkle between her brows at my comment.

"Georgina, Georgie or George - whatever. The lads call me George, but Captain James usually go with a formal Lane, so I'd suggest you do the same if you find my name confusing, Captain…?"

"McClyde. You can call me Bones. I'd like a word with you, Lane. I assume James has informed you I need a medic to join my team for a few days?"

I was wondering to myself if she would be fit for it, or if she would be a liability, but I had set the ball in motion and now it felt like it was too late to change my mind without seeming sexist. I knew very well there were a bunch of competent women in the army, it was just that she looked so fragile – except when I met her eyes. They were in no way soft, rather hard as flint stone and I could see that she resented being judged by her appearance. I made a mental shrug of shoulders, okay, so I would have to give her a chance and hope she did not fuck up.