Tabitha's eyelids were heavy as she stared at the three sentences she'd managed to get on paper before her mind went blank. Her body ached for sleep after returning from Setauket, and the heavy warmth of the blanket draped over her shoulders wasn't helping her focus.

With a childish groan that would have earned her a stern reprimand when she was younger, she straightened her back slightly before leaning over the paper again, nibbling on the end of her quill as she tried to think of something to add to the report. The bitter taste of ink flooded her mouth seconds before she realized what she was doing, and she spat liberally onto the ground and fumbled for the mug of warm water on the desk. She took a long swig, and swished the lukewarm liquid around her cheeks and between her teeth before spitting it out as well.

Tabitha threw her quill down in exasperation. Reports were one thing, but how anyone could come up with two pages of words essentially saying "We didn't find anything" was beyond her. A waste of paper, in her opinion. Three sentences were more than enough, and if General Scott had an issue with it, she could simply direct him to Ben and Caleb. Besides, the whole idea had been theirs, and she really didn't see why she had to be the only one drafting up the report.

She stifled a brief wave of irritation as she folded the paper in thirds. The ink had had more than enough time to dry in the hour she'd spent staring blankly at the grain of the paper, and she stuffed the page unceremoniously into her pocket. As she stood, stretching, the blanket slid from her narrow shoulders into a pool of wool on the ground. She couldn't be to be arsed to pick it up, however, and after she snuffed the candle, she simply kicked it aside before ducking out of her tent into the mid-afternoon chill.

General Scott's tent was on the opposite side of the encampment, and Tabitha scurried from once campfire to the next, pausing briefly to warm her hands as she went, and then pausing a minute longer to lift a stick of hand-rolled tobacco from a young corporal. She passed it through the flames momentarily, then popped the end in her mouth as she hurried to the next fire.

The smoke billowed past her lips, much thicker than usual from the cold air. She huddled closer to the flames as she took another large drag from the small cylinder and, having had enough, offered it to an older-looking man seated beside her, who accepted it with a small nod of thanks.

Scott's tent was nearby, and she slipped her hands into her pockets as she jogged, breath clouding in front of her. The chill had rendered her cheeks a wind-burned red, and she knocked on the tent post a bit more forcefully than she had intended.

"Yes?" came the slightly muffled, brusque voice, and Tabitha shuffled inside to the welcome warmth. "Ah, Lieutenant. Do you have your report for me?"

Tabitha passed him the slightly crumpled paper, and inched forward towards the center of the tent. Scott glanced at the hastily-scrawled words, then looked back up at Tabitha. "'Nothing to be found'?" he quoted. "Is that all?"

"You'll forgive my brevity, General," she said, "but I didn't want to waste your time, as Lieutenant Brewster and Captain Tallmadge seem to believe I have done with theirs." There was a clear terseness in her utterance of the men's names, which was not lost on the General.

"It's not a problem, Lieutenant," Scott said, setting the paper amongst the multitude of reports on his desk. "Please, sit down." Tabitha did as she was beckoned, and Scott continued. "You must not allow yourself to be discouraged. I admire your dedication in pursuing this matter, even though it proved to be false." Tabitha nodded, but remained silent. "This is why we send out scouts, McKenna. We hear plenty of troubling news, but it's vital that we confirm it before acting."

"Yes, sir."

"Which is why I'm very impressed," he said, passing her a cup of ale, which she accepted gratefully. "You were not quick to suggest we act on your intelligence—only that we investigate it further. Nor did you dismiss it until you were certain of its inaccuracy."

"Thank you, General," she said between sips. "And just to clarify, I am profoundly relieved that my intelligence was false. My distaste lies with Brewster and Tallmadge. They're quite smug when they're correct."

"Indeed they are," Scott muttered, before draining his cup. "I wonder, Lieutenant, how you would feel about assuming more responsibility in this unit."

Tabitha's eyes widened a fraction as she guessed at what Scott was insinuating. "How do you mean, General?" she asked, keeping her voice as even as she could.

"I'm going to be honest with you, McKenna, and I don't wish to hear what I am about to say repeated."

"Of course, sir."

General Scott leaned slightly forward in his chair. "Tallmadge and Brewster are fine men. They are good soldiers and loyal to the cause. However." He paused briefly, making certain he had Tabitha's full attention. "Some of their recent actions have led me to question their position as officers. I'm sure you've heard Captain Tallmadge will be facing court-martial, and once he's brought up on charges, I will need new officers to take his place." Tabitha's mouth hung open a fraction as he spoke. "Preferably ones who have my confidence."

"Sir, are you… implying that—"

"I wish to have you promoted, Mr. McKenna," he answered. "And I assume you would be comfortable with the responsibilities such a promotion entails."

"I have no trouble making the difficult decisions, as you know, General," she replied. "But I would be lying if I said I am wholly prepared for the responsibilities you mentioned. And with Tallmadge and Brewster—"

Scott shook his head as he refilled his cup. "You would not answer to them," he said. "Only to myself and officers I designate. But I do require something from you." Tabitha's heart pounded, and she instinctively glanced over her shoulder, somehow fearful that Ben or Caleb would overhear their exchange.

"What do you need from me, General?"

Scott seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Tabitha as he stared at the tent flap behind her. "Captain Tallmadge is very adamant about trusting the word of his informant on Long Island, despite being unable to offer reasons for anyone else to do so." Tabitha felt a chill growing in the pit of her stomach as Scott continued. "He recently provided me with information about Hessian mercenaries in Trenton. If this is indeed true, it must be forwarded to General Washington. However, if it is false, then the results could be disastrous. You understand the importance of confirming reports, Mr. McKenna."

Tabitha nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"I need to know the name of Captain Tallmadge's man in Setauket," he said, "And I'm trusting you will be able to get it."

"I…" Tabitha began, then cleared her throat and continued, stronger: "I am not a confidant of Captain Tallmadge," she said. "He has admitted to distrusting me, and rarely speaks openly when I am present."

"The promotion would come with a substantial pay raise," Scott said, as though Tabitha hadn't spoken. "I assume you have plans for the future? A wife? Children to provide for?"

Tabitha paused, considering. "I have no intended, nor had I thought that far to the future, sir. I've long since resigned myself to the likelihood that I may not survive this war," she said. "However… I have a sister." Scott nodded, seemingly interested, but she couldn't be certain. "Her husband died in a fishing accident three months past. She has an infant son, and I promised to provide for them both."

"He'll be a strong lad, like his uncle," Scott said approvingly, and Tabitha felt a small surge of pride. "You'll consider my offer?"

Tabitha nodded, and felt sick doing so. But the thought of the small child in Baltimore was enough to stifle her unease for the moment. "I will do what I can, sir."

"Excellent!" Scott rose to his feet, and Tabitha hurriedly did the same. "Good afternoon, Mr. McKenna. I expect to hear from you soon."

"Yes sir," she said, and with a polite incline of her head, retreated back through the tent flap into the winter chill. The temperature had dropped substantially, but the conversation had left her temporarily numb, and she trudged back to her tent, heedless of the wind whistling in her ears.

Ben's tent always seemed to be cold, no matter what he did to insulate it. In the end, he attributed it to the constant comings and goings of various personnel, all bringing more items for him to look over, or with questions he often had to refrain from rolling his eyes while answering. But today, the tent was warm, and he and Caleb sat immersed in a game of draughts as they talked.

"…infuriating, insolent, vicious—your move. The way she cut his throat, Caleb, I…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

Caleb frowned at the board, finally settling on a move. "She's a fine soldier, I'll say that much," he muttered. "Not a lot in the way of obedience, but that's a woman fer ya."

"But her opinion of Miss Adams," Ben pressed. "Could she have been right? How well do you really know her?"

Caleb sighed as he looked up from the board. "Well enough, Tall-Boy," he said. "She migh' be gettin' in a bit over her head, but believe me, she can handle it."

Ben nudged one of the pieces halfheartedly with the tip of his finger before slouching in his chair. "It feels wrong. Putting a woman in this sort of position, I mean. If something were to happen to her…"

"How can ya be worried about her bein' a woman after dealin' with Molly?" Caleb interjected.

"You can't honestly be comparing Charlotte to Tabitha," Ben said with a raise of his eyebrows. "I've come to doubt that Tabitha is even human."

"Ya've 'come to doubt'?" Caleb repeated, bemused. "She's a demon, plain an' simple. A demon with very shapely legs—"

"Caleb…"

"But a demon's a demon," Caleb concluded with a laugh, moving his piece forward. "But the Devil isa master of temptation; what can I tell ya?"

Ben gave Caleb an exasperated glare. "King me."

"You're cheatin'."

Ben smirked. "Am I?"

Caleb grumbled as he searched for another move. "Ya know what the problem is, don't ya?" he said after a brief silence. "She's too familiar with you. Might be why she thinks she doesn' have to listen to yer orders." Ben snorted softly, resting his head in one of his hands as he stared at the board. "She won' try thatliathroidíshite with me, Benny, I'll tell ya that now."

"What did that word even mean?" Ben asked suddenly, recalling his confusion from earlier. "I doubt it was polite, whatever it was."

"Oh, it wasn't," Caleb said with a grin. "Never heard a woman talk like that before."

"Keep a close eye on her," Ben warned. "I mean it. And she's not going back to Setauket."

Caleb laughed. "Ya think I'm stupid, Benny?" he said. "All we need is Woody pullin his butter knife on 'er. It'd be the last thing he'd ever do. King me."

Ben swore under his breath s he stared at the board again. "There's no way…"

"Deal with it."