They were handing over and had started with the spinals, the one called Fingers had turned out to have whiplash and had been discharged to light duties, Smurf had sustained severe bruising to the lower cervical spine and was being kept flat and immobile and was, apparently, becoming a real pain in the arse. He had discovered the potential of asking for help to use a bottle or deal with an itch in his groin and the worst of it was he thought he was being original and funny, instead of run-of-the mill sleazy. His notes were marked with a small blue cross on the bottom, private shorthand for the nursing staff to warn them to get a male CMT to help him with the more intimate tasks.

There were several post-operative pinned leg breaks waiting to recover enough from their surgery to be re-patriated, their Afghan adventure was over, but none of them were giving any cause for concern and then they got on to Captain James, who was, apparently, still with them. Molly had been so convinced that her hunch had been right that she had completely failed to see the small live monitor or the fact that the door had a hand towel tied round the handles to stop it closing properly, a trick they used at night so that the noise of the constant opening and closing of the door wouldn't wake the occupant. He had severe concussion and although not completely out of danger from a cerebral bleed, the likelihood was diminishing all the time and his inter-cranial pressure had stabilised, so most of the monitors were switched off and he was now on three hourly obs and was allowed to sleep in between. Her relief made her light headed for a moment; she had been so sure that he was going to die on her.

They started settling the patients for the night, waking up some of them to give them a sleeping pill because it was prescribed, a practice which Molly would never understand if she lived to be a hundred. She settled Smurf, ignoring his "God's gift to females and especially nurses" innuendo. Actually she felt a bit sorry for him, he was obviously shit-scared that his injury was going to turn out to mean permanent paralysis, possible but very unlikely, but it was all he could see happening and he was hiding his fear behind lots of bravado, so she smiled and patted his hand, "Have a good rest, mate, it'll all look better in the morning"

Captain James was the last on her list and he wasn't due for obs for a couple of hours, so she just popped her head round the door to see if he was asleep.

"Hello, wondered when you were going to come and say hello to me"

"Hello, Sir, why aren't you asleep? No, don't bother" she laughed "that's a bloody silly question isn't it? You're not asleep because you're not sleepy. How's the 'ead?"

"What's with the Sir? I thought I was 'mate' and my head's bloody awful, thanks for asking"

"Yeah, any time, and I'll get bollocked if they hear me calling an Officer 'mate', so Sir it is"

"What's your name?"

"Dawes, Molly Dawes"

"What do our friends call you?"

"What, apart from Muppet?" She laughed "Dawsey"

"Can you put the light on for a second, Dawsey?"

"Why?"

"So I can see what you look like properly"

"Me? I'm bleeding hideous mate, give you nightmares" she laughed "See you in a bit when you're fast asleep and I'll come in and wake you up to see whether you're still with us"

The day had been very, very long, full of tests and scans and people waking him up to look in his eyes and ask him stupid questions about what day it was and who the prime minister was and what he remembered of the accident, not much was the answer to that one, and why had his helmet come off, and whether or not he'd undone the strap and he hadn't got a clue. He just knew that he had the mother and father of all crashing headaches and he still felt vaguely nauseous when he moved his head too quickly, which reminded him of the ghastly episode last night and how kind 'mate' had been to him. When they had finally said he could sleep he had closed his eyes and waited for the longed for oblivion, then heard her voice and laughter outside his room. He stopped trying to drop off, something that he had been desperate for all day, as he became aware that the door had opened slightly, letting a little shaft of light into his darkened room as she popped her head round the door and he discovered that he had been waiting for her. She was a gobby cockney without much respect, certainly not for rank, but she had been extremely kind to him last night, and he was grateful.

She was completely right, he was in a deep, deep sleep each time she woke him up and shone a light in his eyes, then stroked the hair back off his forehead and told him he could go back to sleep now so that he kept having the same feeling of comfort that he'd had the night before when she had mopped him up.

She came in to say she was off and that she would see him later, if he was still there, and he found he was sorry that her shift was over, he wished she could stay and talk to him. He still had a crashing headache so he couldn't read, the pain meant that he couldn't focus, and his black eyes were so swollen that he couldn't open them more than a crack and when he did that the light stung them and made them water, so that he looked as though he was crying. Being in a room on his own was great for privacy but was lonely and boring and he had the feeling that he would enjoy talking to her.

Molly had a better day's sleep knowing that he wasn't going to drop dead on her and he'd obviously had a far better day, because he was sitting propped up on the bed rest and had a dimmed light switched on. His eyes were at least open although still horrendously bruised, the swellings around them were almost rainbow coloured and there was a huge red wheal across the bridge of his nose and the bones above his eye sockets, so apparently it was a possibility that his face had collided with something while he was wearing his helmet and that someone had removed it prior to his trip in the helicopter rather than him taking it off; no-one knew for sure and he had just been lucky not to get a fractured skull or a broken nose at the very least. He still had a crashing headache but the nausea had finally subsided and he had managed to drink a cup of tea an hour ago. Tea that was standard issue disgusting but had tasted like nectar. He was on 4 hourly obs now, and this was probably the last night of the waking up and torch shining routine.

"Hello, you look a bit better tonight, how's the 'ead?" Once again Molly had popped her head round his door, this time before she went off to settle the other patients for the night.

"Bit better, thanks. Hey, come in a minute" he smiled at her as she came into his room "You lied to me"

"What'd I say?"

"You're not hideous at all"

Molly giggled as she left his room and went off to the main wards. They were very slack, just Smurf, who hadn't had a particularly good day and was very down, and two US marines, one of whom had tripped over his own feet and put out his arms to save himself and broken his wrist, which had been set under anaesthetic, and another who had cracked his kneecap when he fell over trying to avoid being flattened by the first one. Knee injuries are very painful and he was heavily sedated and the first one still had some anaesthetic lingering in his body, so he was okay as well, but the nurses had, at handover, sniggered very unkindly about "septic tanks" having two left feet.

Molly spent some time chatting to Smurf, he was very low. Because his section was on deployment at a FOB, apart from those who had been flown home this morning, he hadn't had any visitors to chat to, and had spent another long, boring day flat on his back. There hadn't been any other UK soldiers on the ward for him to talk to and because of his unfortunate behaviour on Day 1, the nurses weren't prepared to spend any time just sitting and chatting with him, no matter how slack they were and he was lonely and scared, imagining all sorts of horrible consequences of his injury.

"Where d'you come from then, Smurf? And what sort of bleeding name is that anyway? Did they call you that cos you look like one of them little blue men?"

"No, it's just a nickname and I come from Wales"

"Really? I fought you was French" Molly laughed "I'd already worked out that you was from Wales, I meant where in Wales?"

"I come from Newport"

"What do you do in Newport then?""

"I don't know really, go to the pub with my mates, go to the Rugby, play sometimes, or at least I used to, might not be able to any more, eh?"

"Course you will. Who you got in Newport then, you got a wife or girlfriend?"

"No, I'm available"

"Not surprised, wanker" Molly laughed "D'you live with your mum and dad then?"

"Just my Mum, my brother died out here" Molly grimaced "I don't know what my mum will do if I can't get out of this bed"

"You are going to get out of this bed, you lazy tosser, they keep telling you that it's most likely temporary " Molly desperately hoped she wasn't lying to him, she shouldn't really be promising him anything, no-one knew for absolute certain yet "I'm sorry about your brother, tell me about him"

"He was my identical twin, Geraint, everyone loved him, he was the good looking one, then he got himself shot in the neck on patrol"

"What do you mean; he was the good looking one? If you was identical twins it means you was both bleeding ugly" Molly laughed

"Captain James rescued his body to stop the Taliban getting him, but he was already dead"

"What, the Captain James what's in here?"

"Yeh, how's he doing?"

"Okay, but you've reminded me that I should be checking on him, so how about you try and get some kip and I'll see if I can get back for a bit of a chat later on"

"Where've you been?"

His tone of voice was so curt that Molly wondered what the hell he was asking that for, he knew perfectly well where she'd been, and anyway it wasn't any business of his where she'd been, he wasn't her boss, just another patient.

"I fought I'd nip home for a cuppa, seeing as how we're slack"

She regretted her words as soon as they left her lips; she remembered her resolution last time she was in bother that she was going to learn not to be such a smartarse. He might not be her boss, but he was a bleeding officer, even if he was just wearing a hospital gown that was draughty down the back, and she kept on forgetting that.

"Sorry, Sir" the emphasis on the word Sir was quite deliberate, and sarcastic, she couldn't help being annoyed with him "I was settling another patient, Sir, one who's a bit unhappy tonight, Sir, one of yours actually", then she added as if it was an afterthought "Sir"

"Which one of mine?"

"Smurf"

"What's wrong with him, I mean, I thought they said he was getting on alright and the damage isn't permanent, so why's he especially unhappy tonight?"

"Oh I dunno, maybe because he's lonely and he's been lying there all day on his own without anyone to talk to, scared that he won't be able to walk again, and if that happens he's worried how his mum will cope, what with his brother and that and he needed someone to be kind to him tonight"

"I'm sure you're just the person to do that, I hope he appreciated it"

Molly stared at him confused by his sarcastic tone, she'd thought that they were almost becoming friends, and she couldn't understand why he was being so thoroughly shitty all of a sudden. A possible explanation hit her like a ten ton truck, but she hadn't got a clue where the idea had come from and dismissed it immediately.

"I'll just do your obs, Sir and then I'll leave you in peace"

He knew he'd been a complete arse and he knew he'd upset her and that he'd completely over-reacted when she had seemed to take forever to come back from seeing the other patients, so much so that he had called the other nurse in and asked her whether they were run off their feet, only to be told that they were very quiet. Then when she had said she had been with Smurf, he had felt this rush of jealousy which was totally ridiculous and now he had made sure that she was going to push off as soon as she could.

"Molly" She raised her eyebrows at his use of her Christian name and the complete softening of his tone of voice.

"What? … Sir"

"I'm sorry, I was being an idiot, and for fuck's sake could you please stop calling me Sir"

"What would you like me to call you?"

"Well, I'd like you to call me Charles, but you can't, or rather you won't, so how about Captain or Boss like the lads call me? Or mate?"

"Okay" she resolved not to call him anything at all from now on "Do you need anything, a drink or a bottle or whatever? Before I go and check on the septic tanks and make sure Smurf's settled"

He could tell from her voice that she was still annoyed with him.

"Will you come back and talk to me afterwards?"

"Maybe, if you're not asleep when I get back"

Author's notes: Thank you for your kind reviews, I am glad that so many of you enjoyed the opening chapter. This chapter is where Molly's relationships with CJ and Smurf start to develop; relationship's which begin to get complicated in the next chapter. Please review for me.