I lost this the other day, as the laptop had a meltdown. With a lot of typing and a little rework here it is. Please R & R.
Characters from Our Girl belong to Tony Grounds and the BBC, the rest are mine.
Opening the front door, Captain Charles James was met by the best sight in the whole world, Molly Dawes. He took a few moments just to look at her, stood there in jeans, a pretty blouse and a jacket with the cutest hat on, and all she said with a cheeky grin was "Missed me?"
Motioning her, with a nod of his head, she came forward and dipped under his outstretched arm.
Pushing the door closed he took 2 steps before drawing her onto his arms, leaning down for a kiss.
They stood in the hallway for what must have seemed an age, kissing, lost in each other.
His mother, wondering who had been at the door was walking into the hall, "Who was at the door Charles?"
Seeing the two people still embracing, not aware of anything else she took a few steps backwards and retreated back to the kitchen, where she switched on the coffee machine and waited. This must be the young lady Charles had wanted them to meet about 3 months ago she thought, the medic, who had saved his life, but due to unforeseen circumstances it hadn't been the right time.
Hand in hand, Charles and Molly walked into the kitchen, Molly partly hidden behind his shoulder, her nerves at meeting his mother apparent.
"Mum, may I introduce you to Molly, Molly this is my mother."
Before Charles could give her full title, Charles's mum said "Call me Margaret my dear, I've so been looking forward to meeting you."
"Thank you Mrs James, er, Margaret," Molly stumbled over the name.
"Now, drinks you two?"
"Mug of tea, if you've got one would be great," Molly said.
Margaret smiled indulgently, getting mugs out and the tea. Charles had bought some especially. No one else drank it and she'd wondered when it had appeared in the cupboards.
"I didn't think you were due home for another 10 days" Charles said.
"Yeah, about that, I pulled a sort of sicky to get out of decompression, been there, done that, got the t-shirt sort of thing. An' seeing as 'ow I wasn't on the front line this time, they was ok wiv' it!" Molly's cockney accent came out a lot stronger, excited as she was to be here. "Pull out's movin' up a gear, at a faster pace."
"That's lovely dear" Margaret said, and to Charles "Maybe Molly can stay a few days. Your father's staying up in town tonight, he'll back tomorrow afternoon. Some sort of COBRA meeting he has to attend."
"Eh?"
"My father's a senior civil servant, works between the MOD and the FCO."
"I understand the MOD bit, but what's FCO and COBRA?" an inquisitive frown on Molly's face.
Charles laughed, "FCO is the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, dealing with all the overseas embassies and things and COBRA is Cabinet Office Briefing Room A, It just means high level meetings really, a name used from world war 2 but they still use it if it's a major incident, like say 7/7."
"It confuses me as well" Margaret said, more to make Molly feel at ease. "Charles and his father talk in just letters a lot of the time."
"Well, I didn't have a Scooby. Still don't for that!"
Charles's father was in fact, Sir Peter James, one of the highest civil servants whose current role was working on the plan for the withdrawal of all British troops from Afghanistan, this coming October. Though not common knowledge, press would be briefed and there would be tv coverage after the event but for security purposes, at present everyone was playing ball and keeping quiet.
This would probably be one of Sir Peter's last acts, he was planning on retiring and looking forward to spending more time with Margaret. During Charles's deployment and subsequent injury, he had seen the reports as they came in, even Major Beck's 'after the incident' report.
"I'll leave you two alone" Charles's mother said. "No doubt you have lots to discuss." At this she gave a pointed look at Charles. He still had to tell Molly about his exit interview and the fact he still was after all a Captain in the British Army.
Taking their drinks and going upstairs, Charles picked up Molly's overnight bag. He hoped that she'd take the news well. He thought she would, she'd been so sad when he'd told her of his decision in the hospital, all those months ago. A lot had happened since then.
Entering the room, Molly made her way over to the bed. Sitting down on it, she pulled her legs up to sit cross legged.
Charles sat on a stool at the side of the bed. He needed this space for this conversation.
"Glad to be back?" Charles asked.
"This time, yeah, it feels more normal, more settled. I'm not wondering what to do." Molly answered. "So, what's up? You're sitting there like you've just been caught doing something wrong."
"Nothing's wrong."
"Yeah right!"
"I had my exit interview last month."
"Oh yeah, how did it go?"
"Well, I'm still in…."
"But…."
"Wait, let me finish. First off, they wouldn't let me resign. When I said I had personal reasons Major Beck said they could be worked around. Namely you're not permanent under fives, but Med Regiment and in the future you wouldn't be posted under my command. I'm also being assigned another platoon."
"So….."
"So, it's all good. And from what I hear, you've been given an amazing opportunity to get your degree."
"How do you know about that? I only got told as I left."
"Dawesy, Molly, what are you waiting for, this is your time. Time to be brilliant. Any ideas on which university you'd pick? Bristol's only about 14 miles away as the crow flies."
"I can't fly!" Molly giggled. "You inviting me to stay Boss?"
"I'm not your Boss anymore, so get over here." His voice soft and velvety.
"A lot more room here" Molly said suggestively.
A long time later, Molly and Charles went downstairs and found his mother once again in the kitchen.
Looking around and seeing them Margaret said "I thought you'd quite like a simple meal tonight. Spaghetti Bolognaise?"
"Thanks, after the dodgy food for the last few months and swapping bits from the rat packs, that, would be heaven."
Whilst Charles had been talking to Molly, Margaret had phoned her husband to let him know they had a visitor and who it was. He was looking forward to getting home to meet this person who had changed his son's life so much. He was also thinking, with his upcoming retirement, it was time to take a step back and pass the house onto the next generation. He'd discuss it with Margaret and see what her thoughts were.
That evening in Bath was a quiet affair. The three of them ate in the kitchen. Molly had said she missed the simple things while being away and going to dinner without a loaded rifle or firearm strapped to her leg felt 'not normal'.
She also told Charles that she'd seen Qaseem after he came to one of her lectures to the medics. That wasn't the silence moment though. When she let slip that she'd conned him into taking her to see Bashira, well, there was a deathly silence.
When Charles looked at her in stunned disbelief she muttered "Ooops, bollocking for that later."
Charles looked at her, biting his lip and shaking his head thinking 'what's the point! Bloody Dawesy. Again doing her own thing' but also knowing he wouldn't want her any other way.
Molly was a bit conscious of being in the house with Charles's mother in residence but those were brushed away when Margaret told them to get off to bed with a smile. Luckily, or so Molly felt, Charles's room was on the floor above his parents room, at the opposite side of the house.
She'd only been back in the UK less than 36 hours and what with the flight home was starting to flag.
The reunion would have to hold off for another night as she was asleep before her head hit the pillow. That afternoon, they'd only talked about her attending university and the ins and outs of Charles's new command and how it would affect them, along with a lot of kissing and just holding one another. Charles spent most of the night just watching Molly as she slept, never happier.
In the morning Molly got up and when she went into the kitchen where Charles was making her a tea. On the table was a brand new box of cocoa pops.
In the afternoon, Charles's father arrived home in Bath. He and Molly got on like a house on fire.
What was it about Molly Dawes? Charles thought again. His father, the stiff upper lip, ramrod straight civil servant, giggling like a schoolboy. Charles could not remember ever seeing his father like this, definitely never with Rebecca, a little with Sam, but Molly, well there was just some sort of quality about her that crossed the barriers.
For dinner that evening, Margaret had pulled out all the stops. The dining room was set with china and crystal and the smells emanating from the kitchen were to die for.
Sir Peter or just Peter as he'd told Molly to call him, Molly in her way shortening to Pete, had broken out quite a few bottles of wine and in her words, Molly said that they'd "crack on it later, but as I've not had a drink in 3 months, I'll probably be trollied before dessert."
Charles's father howled with laughter, he could totally see what his son saw in Molly. Working within Whitehall he was used to people saying things without making a decision, covering their backs. But, with Molly, she spoke her mind. A trait that during her first tour had often got her into trouble but also, engaging others to question decisions due to the simplicity of her questions and straight forward speech. Possibly if Molly worked within the civil service, more things may have been achieved.
As they sat drinking coffee at the end of the meal, that had been a huge success, Charles could see Molly's eyes stating to droop and he motioned to his parents, who understood.
"Come on Dawesy. Bed!"
"What?" Molly blushed. He didn't just say that.
"You're falling asleep."
"You go and get some rest dear. We'll probably see you at the weekend, as were off for a few days break." Margaret said.
A little worried she may have offended them, Molly said "Thank you for the meal and making me feel welcome, and er I'm sorry to have nearly fallen asleep again."
When Charles had left the room, taking Molly upstairs, his father looked at his mother and said "I think we'll be handing the house down sooner rather than later, and we can enjoy retirement and all the things on our to do list."
Upstairs Charles was ticking the quilt around Molly. He leaned in to her neck to kiss her and mumbled something.
"What?" Molly said sleepily.
"I said" and very much a repeat of a conversation in a restaurant 3 nearly 4 months ago, but with a couple of changes "I love you, I want to marry you."
Molly half asleep said. "Yeah, whatever." But, something must have registered in her brain because she sat bolt upright, looking at Charles.
"No going back now Dawesy, you said yes."