I'm back!
Okay, so, I present to you: Sgt. Saunders faints. REVISED! People thought Doc would know what to do, so they got it! Also, upon the request of one very loyal reviewer, I might post more chapters to this.
Disclaimer: Ohhhhh, don't ya know,
Like rain and snow,
I really can't clone em'
I just don't own em'!
(I can't even loan em, and can't telephone them!)
Setting: French village, somewhere in France…
"Hey Kirby, would you take this for me, it's getting awful heavy." Billy Nelson shifted the M1 in his hands, and gestured with his chin to the pack sagging off his shoulder.
"Why? I already have one myself." Answered the BAR man. He squinted, "What's up with the Sarge?" He noticed their leader faltering.
Billy didn't hear, or maybe just ignored him. "Aww, but Kirby, I carried yours and mine, and the BAR for almost five miles last week."
"Yeah, yeah, that was different, I was wounded." Said Kirby distractedly. He was craning his neck to see around Littlejohn's arm, trying to get a glimpse of the Sarge. Something was off.
"Aww, but Kir-" a thud interrupted his complaint, and Billy could see Doc rushing over. Billy pushed through Littlejohn and Caje to see what the commotion was.
He was surprised to see Saunders completely limp, passed out on the ground. "What happened?" he asked Doc.
The medic looked up at Billy, "I don' know. Don't seem like there's nothin' wrong with 'im, only he's a little red. An' sweaty. Might be over heated."
Littlejohn spoke up, "We're all sweaty, Doc."
"Yeah, I just don't know. Lets' take him over there, to that tree. One of you go an' see if there's anything suspicious going on. You know, go….patrol or somethin'."
"What'd'you mean?" Kirby asked.
"I don' know. It just don't feel right."
Kirby took Littlejohn and Billy with him, and it was only Caje, Doc, and of course, Saunders, who was still out of it.
"What do you think it is?" Caje bent over Sarge.
"I don' know. Hey, when did he eat last?"
"Umm, this morning?" the Cajun thought back, "At that pub, with those girls hanging around."
"Oh yeah. Well, it couldn't be food deprivation anyhow, he'd be stirring by now. But it could be what he ate. Do you remember what he had?"
"Uhh, maybe a sandwich? But Littlejohn and Billy had one too. Well, Littlejohn had three, actually." Smirked Caje. Doc was still deep in thought.
"Yeah, unless it was only his…"
"You think the Sarge was poisoned?"
"No." Doc checked his eyes, pulse. "I don't think so now. I think it's heat stroke."
"You know, he is awfully red, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he is." Doc tapped the Sarge's dog tags with his fingers, still buried in his figuring. "Here, help me take his coat off." Caje propped Saunders up while Doc forcefully pulled the coat off him. "Darn thing. Stiff as beef bristle. Good Lord, he sure sweats a lot!"
Just then Littlejohn and Kirby arrived, announcing that it was all clear. A moment later, Billy came sliding to a stop like he was at a baseball game. Kirby rolled his eyes, "how's he doing, Doc?"
"I don't like it, he shoulda come 'round by now. Let take him inside, there's a café, just till he cools down. I think it's just overheatin' that's got 'im."
When they got inside, after much shuffling, groaning, and maneuvering through the narrow doorway, they set Saunders on a chair.
"What's wrong with your friend?" an American voice rang out.
Kirby's eyebrows shot up at the sound, and he turned around real slowly. He whistled when he beheld the sight before him. Or rather, above him.
A woman in a short, checkered dress with reddish-orange hair tied back in a knot stood at the top of a staircase, looking more like Judy Garland than a restaurant waitress. Come to think of it, this place looked a lot like the saloons in old Western books, or at least how they were described.
"Friend? What friend?" drooled Kirby. She brushed past him, smiling a knowing smile. It faded when she saw Saunders.
"Good Lord, what happened to him?"
"He fainted, Ma'am." Doc held his cap between his hands, balling it in knots. "I think it's heat stroke. We nee"d to get him cooled down.
"Well I can see that. Looks like you're right." She felt Saunders's forehead. "You'd better bring him upstairs, hurry. Happens there are some costumers today, well, I wouldn't want him getting stares."
"Thank you kindly. We can't stay here long, only till he's better, then we've gotta roll." Kirby doffed his cap, "William G. Kirby…?"
Billy and Littlejohn looked at each other with a look that said, I have never seen him so desperate.
Doc hurried them along, and soon enough Saunders was on a big- and very real- bed. Billy swore it had been a lifetime ago since he'd left his own to board the boat to come overseas.
"Well, pardon Ma'am, but I think we oughta get him cooled off, and fast... faster than what we're doin' now." Doc looked down at the Sarge.
"That's alright. What we need to do is get him comfortable and rehydrate him. First things first, take off his clothes."
Kirby had a look on his face of pure shock, "All of them? No offense, Ma'am, but-"
She blushed a wilder shade than a red rose and avoided eye contact with anyone in the room, "No, of course not! Just down to his boxers. I'm going to go get some water. Now hurry, the longer he stays like that…." She hurried off down the hall, the rest of her words lost as she rounded the corner going down the stairs.
As soon as they'd stripped Sarge they all looked a sight. Sweaty, bedraggled, and covered in his cloths. Doc held the Sarge's jacket from earlier, and Billy had his shirt. Kirby held his boots, and over each shoulder, Littlejohn had slung Saunders's undershirt and pants. Doc would have laughed, except that now Sarge was stirring. Everybody but Littlejohn dropped their part of Saunders's wardrobe. The big man probably didn't even know they were still on him.
The woman entered the room again, setting down a basin of water. She took a cloth and began bathing his forehead.
His eyelids fluttered and Doc leaned in close.
"Hey Sarge, it's me, it's Doc. You were out of it for a while…" he glanced down at Littlejohn appreciatively. He'd covered Saunders in a thin sheet. "How do ya feel?"
"Doc? Wha'? Wound'd?" he muttered, sluggishly regaining his awareness.
"No." Doc glanced up across at the woman. She returned the look. "No, you fainted."
"F'nted?" his vision slowly adjusted so that he could see several people leaning over him. "Uggh." He pushed himself up.
The woman quickly made him lay down. "Don't move too much, you need to wait till you're not so dizzy."
He turned to watch her.
"I'm Elizabeth Gordon. My shop is downstairs, your friends brought you here. What's your name?"
"Saunders. Sergeant Chip Saunders."
"Chip. That's nice. I'd better go get some water. You rest." She stood up. Right before exiting, she pointed a finger at Kirby, who jumped, "and you'd better let him." She disappeared.
"Oh, lucky, lucky Sarge." Crowed Kirby. "She likes you!"
"Right, well," He tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed, much to the displeasure of Doc. Sarge paused halfway. "Doc…. Why am I not wearing anything?" Doc offered an uncomfortable smile.
"You're wearing-" Kirby started but everybody in the room turned on him. In unison, they all groaned,
"Shut up, Kirby!"
Please tell me what you think!
I'm going to start the "What if" fic I talked about on my other author's notes a little later. This idea was just too good to pass up. Saunders takes a bow…. Now that he has his clothes back.