"Alright, people. I want your full attention on this." Duke gave the group of Joes his most stern glare—eyebrows drawn together, lips pressed flat in a stern frown; the whole nine yards. Lady Jaye knew that look and immediately straightened in her chair. Most of the others continued to chatter, throw paper airplanes, and in general act like an unruly group of elementary school students at assembly. "Your full attention!" Duke barked, catching the eyes of a few members of the team who, were this truly school, might be considered the "special" students.

Duke shook his head and muttered under his breath. Lady Jaye and the others in the front row could make out the words "KP duty" and "give 'em to Beach Head." Duke cleared his throat. "The generals have long been considering adding a psychologist as a permanent member of the team. Hawk and I have discussed it, and we agreed that a professional psychiatric evaluation of the team might tell us whether or not this is necessary."

"Oh, come on, Duke! You already know we're crazy!" Ace yelled.

The sergeant continued, pretending not to hear Ace's comment. "We have called in Doctor Steinherz as an outside expert. He'll be here for the next three days…I expect everyone to be on their best behavior and to treat the Doctor as you would a visiting General." He paused, looking like he regretted his decision already. "Any questions?"

Lady Jaye raised her hand, and at Duke's nod asked, "Is Doctor Steinherz going to simply observe us, or actually conduct exams?"

"He will begin by only observing, but may, if necessary, call individuals into my office for an interview and or psychiatric evaluation." Duke scanned the group, but no one else seemed to have questions. "Dismissed. Doctor Steinherz will be here tomorrow morning."

The group of Joes scattered, eager to return to their usual evening activities. Duke caught Lady Jaye's eye and gestured her over. She approached her CO, having some idea what he was about to ask.

"Lady Jaye, you're our personnel clerk…I almost hate to ask, but I'd like you to be Doctor Steinherz's guide while he's here. I'm not supposed to interfere with his work; Hawk thinks that if I'm around all the time, the Joes won't be themselves." He sighed. "Which I think wouldn't be a bad thing, but…do you mind keeping an eye on the doctor? Make sure he doesn't get lost, help him read the duty roster and so on?"

She read into the pleading look on his face. The unspoken message was: "Steer him clear of Ace's poker games, the motor pool, Shipwreck, and anything else that might be a black mark against the team." She smiled and nodded her understanding. "Yes, sir. I think I can manage."


The first morning went smoothly. With Duke's speech fresh in their minds, the Joes were on their best behavior. Doctor Steinherz arrived early enough to observe the second half of Beach Head's PT, declining Lady Jaye's offer of coffee and breakfast in favor of heading out to the obstacle course.

The doctor, a rather rotund, balding man in his mid-fifties, watched the exercises without blinking, continually mumbling and jotting notes on his clipboard. Lady Jaye attempted to engage the doctor in conversation, but the man apparently wasn't a talker. She also tried to catch a glimpse of whatever he was writing, but he caught her at it immediately and retreated a few paces with a haughty sniff. She shrugged and gave him a wry smile. He furrowed his brows and scribbled on the clipboard, repeatedly glancing between her and the paper. It was very unnerving, but eventually PT was over, and Lady Jaye suggested they head toward the cafeteria.

Lunch was a disaster. Somehow Gung-Ho had been wrangled into cooking, and as usual he had prepared his bone-searing gumbo. Most of the Joes were used to the spicy fare by now, and some even considered it a pleasant change from tasteless MREs. Lady Jaye watched the doctor load his plate. "Um, sir, you might want to go easy on Gung-Ho's gumbo—it's got quite a kick." The man gave her a bland stare and took another ladleful.

"Hey, this guy knows good food when he smells it, Jaye," Gung-Ho quipped from behind the counter. The doctor looked up, seeming to notice the Cajun for the first time. He raised his eyebrows and pulled a small notebook from an inside pocket. Gung-Ho stared in disbelief as the man wrote a lengthy paragraph about him before putting the notebook away and continuing toward the tables.

Lady Jaye held back a moment to give Gung-Ho a reassuring smile, then turned to follow the doctor. She realized too late that he was heading directly toward the table containing Airtight, Tripwire, Bazooka, Alpine, Low Light, and Shipwreck. She couldn't think of a worse group that could be on base together at once. She took a seat across from the doctor, trying unobtrusively to warn the others with a fierce look that they needed to cut the usual stupid chatter. But of course these guys wouldn't understand a message not delivered with a kick to the shin.

"Hey! It's the good doctor…uh…" Shipwreck fumbled for the man's name.

"Sternheart," Bazooka supplied.

"It's Steinherz, dummy," Alpine corrected, giving Bazooka a jab in the shoulder.

"Rock heart," Tripwire commented. The others stared at him uncomprehendingly. "It's German," he added. "Steinherz means 'rock heart,' or 'heart of rock,' I guess. I just love etymology."

"Isn't that the study of insects?" Airtight asked.

"No, that's entomology," Low Light answered. "Etymology is the study of word origins."

Lady Jaye wished she could bang her head on the table. Or shoot the lot of them. Or both. None of the guys seemed to care that the doctor was scribbling furiously in his notebook. He hadn't even touched his food.

"Whatcha writin,' doc?" Shipwreck asked, leaning over toward the man. Doctor Steinherz pulled his notebook away, his large eyebrows conveying his displeasure at the intrusion. He tucked the notebook into its pocket with exaggerated care, then lifted his spoon to his mouth.

It took about five seconds for the heat to kick in. Doctor Steinherz's face turned first pink, then purple. His eyes flew wide open, and he gasped, "Water!"

He grabbed the nearest glass of clear liquid, putting it to his lips. Airtight only had time to shout, "That's not—" before the doctor sprayed the mouthful in a fine mist all over Lady Jaye. Doctor Steinherz managed a strangled chirp before toppling backwards off of his chair.

Lady Jaye leapt to her feet at the same time as Tripwire—who had grabbed a glass of milk—but Tripwire was closer. He made it nearly to the doctor's side just as Shipwreck scooted his chair back for a better look. Tripwire's foot tangled in the chair leg, and he and the glass of milk went sprawling over the psychiatrist. It had the unfortunate effect of causing the doctor to spew up his stomach's contents just as Lady Jaye made it around the table.

For almost an entire minute, the only sound in the cafeteria was that of Doctor Steinherz sputtering and coughing. The other Joes stopped their own chatter to glance up at the commotion. Shipwreck was hitting the doctor on the back, and Low Light had taken off at a dead run, presumably to get Doc. Lady Jaye looked down at her soiled uniform and could only think, Duke's going to kill me.

A crowd gathered as the two fallen men sat up. Lady Jaye looked up at Airtight. "What was in that glass? Was it poisonous?"

"It was only glycerin," Airtight replied with a shrug.

"Please tell me it wasn't nitroglycerine," she growled. The doctor's eyes grew huge, and he immediately stopped moving. Shipwreck backed away hastily.

"Nah, just the regular kind," the bomb expert replied.

In the ensuing silence, Tripwire commented, "Glycerin. From the Greek word, gylkys, meaning sweet." Lady Jaye turned a furious glare on him. "What?" He replied. "I'm just saying it's totally non-toxic. It's used as a sweetener."

Lady Jaye fixed her attention back on the doctor. "I'm sure you'll be fine," she reassured him. "Do you need anything?"

Doctor Steinherz's breathing had returned to almost normal. He shook his head emphatically and stood shakily.

Low Light returned with Doc in tow. "Did someone poison our guest already?" Doc asked calmly. He removed a few supplies from his bag, turning toward the psychiatrist. "Or was it just Gung-Ho's gumbo?"

"He took a sip of glycerine," Airtight told him. "But then he spit it out all over Lady Jaye."

"Then I tripped and fell on him," Tripwire added.

"And he puked all over Lady Jaye," Shipwreck finished.

"Is that all?" Doc asked, smiling. "Well, that's certainly nothing to worry about." He returned his equipment to his bag, preparing to leave. "Let me know if you start seeing spots," he said with a smile, "And if you see any pictures in them."

Doctor Steinherz stared at him, mouth hanging open. He didn't even bother to reach for his notebook. Without a word, he turned and walked from the room.


Duke stared out over the assembled Joes. This time, the room was silent, down to the last single soldier. "I can't believe it," Duke started. "This must be a record. Doctor Steinherz was on base for only five hours before being nearly killed." He started to pace.

"He wasn't nearly killed," Airtight stage-whispered. Lady Jaye smacked him on the head, aware of the expression on Duke's face. They had already explained what had happened, but it hadn't helped.

Duke focused his attention on Airtight. "You don't get to speak." He ran a hand through his already mussed hair. "Doctor Steinherz refused to stay any longer, and from what I heard of his muttering, he's going to recommend that the entire team be thrown in the nuthouse. After the fiasco at lunch today, I very nearly agree with him. And that's not even taking into consideration that you were all eating Gung-Ho's cooking."

Duke stopped pacing and leaned toward his very attentive audience. "Obviously Hawk won't let anything happen to the team. However," his voice lowered, and the Joes in the back of the room had to strain to hear. "We are without a doubt going to have a psychologist assigned to the team now. And if he ever tells me to put one of you in a straight jacket, I'm not going to argue."