I can't believe it was a full two years ago since I have written anything for this fandom. It kind of blows my mind, but this thing called life, well it keeps happening. And I just realized I'm 19 and only a ½ year away from being a registered nurse. Like, what?! It seems like yesterday, yet forever ago, that little 13 year old me was attempting to write fan fiction. I shake my head thinking back on some of my thought processes. Not to mention how stereotypical I was, thinking I knew everything. Luckily, there is always room for improvement!

I don't own any of the familiar characters and as a college senior who is paying for her own degree, I'm not worth much anyway *insert laughing that morphs into crying* don't sue me. Hope everyone enjoys this little story! This will be multi parted. I have several chapters written and I hope to complete this story over winter break.

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~1~Dusty~1~

"Blast all this bloody dust!" Newkirk growled stomping his boots and brushing the blasted stuff off his shirt, attempting to at least. It was impossible to get rid of it entirely.

"Hey, at least it's not so cold anymore!" Carter chuckled, the sunnier of the two and a glass half full kind of guy retorted. His words were accompanied by taking off his hat and sweeping the back of his hand over the top of it joining his counterpart in the futile attempt to rid himself of the pesky dust.

"Must you always be so bloody cheery? There's a war on, you know," The English corporal continued to grumble as he decided to peel off his shirt entirely and attempt to shake it out.

"Well the way I see it is-" Carter started to explain himself but was cut off by the door to the barrack opening more dust swirling in in the brief seconds the door remained ajar as the Colonel walked in. No one dared complain about the extra dust that had been ushered in because frankly there was no time to as the leader of the rag tag group decided to address them.

"Alright. Which one of you boneheads snuck out last night?!" Colonel Hogan looked more upset than he had since he'd been tricked by a fräuline at the hofbräu who was actually a Herr.

"Don't look at me Guvna!" Newkirk scoffed as Hogan's gaze rested on him.

"Then who in the hell did?" Hogan continued his tirade. His crew knew someone had done something major wrong because the Colonel rarely yelled at them like this. Sure they got dressed down occasionally, but the fury burning in the man's brown eyes made them glad they were generally on the same side of the war.

"What happened Colonel?" Kinch inquired his eyebrows furrowed. From the looks the men were exchanging, no one in the barrack had done anything remotely close to leaving camp last night.

Taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose, Hogan tried to reign in his anger. He wasn't going to get anywhere with continuing on this vein. He knew his guys, and honey was always preferable to vinegar when dealing with them. "Klink kindly informed me this morning that a British prisoner was spotted stealing chickens. On a farm, 2 kilometers outside of camp last night,"

"Colonel Hogan Sir, I'm not trying to be disrespectful or anything, but I can't even see my fingers in all this dust…" Carter trailed off as he felt more than saw all the eyes focused on him. His cheeks reddened and he twisted his hat in his hands.

"Please continue Carter," The Colonel urged him.

Carter cleared his throat and plugged back in, his hat being twisted even more. "Well, you see, that, if uh, someone saw someone, you know, that far away,"

"It'd be a bloody miracle," Newkirk finished for his comrade.

"Yeah, exactly!" Carter's face started to revert to its normal hue as he no longer felt everyone's gaze to be trained on him.

"The kid can be a ruddy genius," Newkirk was only being partially sarcastic.

"Hey, I resent that!" Carter was now completely distracted from issue at hand.

"Resent what?" Newkirk snickered and slipped his shirt back on realizing that it had been off.

"I'm not a kid you know. Boy, no kid that I know could make up all the stuff I do around here. Not to mention-" The disgruntled sergeant was cut off from his rant by a whistle coming from their CO.

"Gentlemen, please stop. So even if the Krauts are full of it, which they very well could be. That doesn't change the fact that they say they saw someone,"

"So what?" LeBeau interjected. "So what if the dirty bosche say they saw something?"

"We'll have the Gestapo in here like that," Hogan snapped his fingers.

"So? We've taken them on many times," Carter still failed to see the point.

"That may be true Andrew, but what about that mission we have to pull tonight?" Newkirk asked the issue at hand finally dawning on him.

"Bingo!" Hogan exclaimed crossing his arms starting to pace. "If Hochstetter decides to poke his friendly face around here then we are going to need an entirely new plan and this one has been in the works what two weeks?"

"Three," Kinch interjected.

"Right, three weeks of our best planning and it's all gone," Hogan shook his head and then rubbed his right temple feeling a leak in the underground sized headache coming on.

"And if we miss this opportunity the next new moon isn't for another month and we miss our chance at a perfect night to pull this off," Kinch sighed sitting down on the table in the middle of the barrack.

"Not to mention missing our chance entirely," Newkirk grumbled.

"Changing the date is not an option," Hogan cut them short.

"But Colonel, the plan is for Klink and Stalag 13 boshe," LeBeau needlessly reminded the motley crew.

"We don't need to start from scratch guys, we can just add in a few extra bits here and there to make it Gestapo level, because it's a good plan," Carter piped in again. He hadn't made Sargent for no reason. Sure he was awkward, pretty nieve at times, and could act like a child, but he wasn't stupid.

"I believe, Carter, you actually got something there mate!" Newkirk clapped the other man's back.

The senior officer of the prisoners of war smirked the trademark smirk of his that was especially prominent when he had just had an epiphany. "I know just how to do this,"

"Never doubted it for a second guvna," Newkirk had a trademark smirk of his own resting on his face.