Peter 'Innocent' Murphy walked slowly along his favourite perch: the observation platform above the weapons testing floor. Today the room served a different purpose; emergency surgery theatre. The Gears on the lower level were wearing clean scrubs (for once) and gathered around a central table where another Gear lay.

Peter strolled over to watch them; they were fluttering around trying to save her life. He scowled; it was only the secrets that were embedded in the grunt's neck that he wanted! What did he care if she lived or died…? His eyes focused on what he could see of the girls' head, and they widened; there was no mistaking that hair colour.

"Colonel…"

He leaned back as his concentration was broken, and glared icily at the Gear who'd dared to approach him.

"What is it?"

The boy swallowed.

"The chairman's son is here. He says he's got authorisation to supervise the surgery and to make sure you don't kill Sergeant O'Connor."

Peter scowled at the boy for a while, trying to decide if it was worth taking the time to kill him. He decided against it; the boy was faithful, if nothing else, and god knew they needed faithful men right then. Realising the boy was waiting for an answer, he flapped a hand.

"The chairman's son is welcome to come and supervise from the observation platform... but when you bring him, be sure to take him through the 'clean' entrance. We don't need anyone knowing what kind of things we do here."

The boy saluted and ran off, and Peter turned his attention back to the surgery in front of him; his fingers were itching to go down there and rip the weapon out of the girls' throat already, but the surgeons were being very careful. Peter was soon joined by the chairman's fresh-faced youth of a son; the boy seemed unnaturally interested in the surroundings.

"Private Prescott, I presume."

The boy turned and nodded to the higher-ranked man, but his eyes were glued to the scene below and the quickly-working Gears gathered around the inert bleeding form on the table. Peter looked the boy over again, eyes probing; he looked far too young to command such respect. Adam had stubble, but not nearly enough to look manly; it was more like fuzz than hair. His hair would probably normally be professionally neat, but right then it was sticking out at all angles, and Peter immediately saw why; Adam kept running his hands through it. He also stank like blood, sweat and metal and Peter wrinkled his nose; such uncultured, rough-and-tumble smells had no place near his delicate sense of smell in this Mecca of the learned.

Adam turned and looked the colonel over, judging him. The other man wore an expression of distaste that Adam was sure was his usual expression, his nose wrinkled as though something smelly had walked under his nose. Suddenly Adam became aware that he stank pretty damn badly, especially compared with the perfectly-groomed, delicately-scented man next to him. The boy almost couldn't believe that this pansy of a man had developed close to twenty years of technology in under five years, but the proof was all around him – packed away under draping sheets, hiding them from the intruder.

"Colonel!"

One of the surgeons below held up the hook, and suddenly Peter was gone from Adam's side. The boy watched curiously the older man ran down some stairs and hurried out onto the floor, accepting the foreign material with something akin to reverence. He disappeared through a nearby doorway, but Adam's concentration went back onto the surgeons who were now scurrying around moving trays of basic surgical instruments back and trays of other, more sophisticated-looking instruments and strange bits of metal and plastic closer to the operating table. Adam found a folding chair and took a seat, watching them operate to save Isolde's life.

Hours dragged by, and Adam found himself getting sleepy. The building was warm, with the low hum of huge air filters underlying everything. The surgeons below were talking in low voices, the heart and breathing monitors were beeping steadily… Adam wrenched himself upright just as he was about to fall asleep, cursing himself for getting so complacent. This was the Sergeant's life at stake, goddammit, and he was going to stay awake!

Instead of sitting down again Adam started prowling, taking slow circuits of the observation floor. Idly he gazed through a window into a lab and saw Gears in white coats arguing. The lab was soundproofed, so he didn't know what they were arguing about; but from the looks of it, things were going to get heated very quickly. Suddenly someone else entered the room, and the two antagonists shut up immediately. The woman moved sensuously over to the two, apparently quietly asking what was going on. One of them explained, and the woman considered for a moment. She went over to some papers on a desk and rummaged, and then held one up. Both coated Gears grabbed for it, but she tore the paper in two and discarded it.

Adam watched the paper flutter to the ground, and when he looked up again the woman was right next to the glass staring back at him curiously. He noticed she looked a lot like Megan but much more coldly beautiful, and backed away. He gave a curt nod, heart pounding, and scurried back to his former position above the surgeons. The boy could feel her eyes boring into his back but didn't look up; he couldn't stand to meet her dark, probing eyes again.

Under his watchful eye, the surgeons reconstructed Isolde's wrecked throat. When the final stitch was in, they removed their gloves, cleared away the instruments, and eventually had a big round of high-fives. The main surgeon pulled his mask off and looked up at Adam.

"We're going to be transferring her to the hospital now… I'm assuming you want to come along."

Adam nodded and went back out the door he'd come in through, where the Gear who'd brought him through in the first place was gently snoring. He tapped the other guy on the shoulder and stepped back as he woke with a start, and then leaped to his feet with an apologetic look on his face. Adam shrugged and gestured towards the door; the other Gear obligingly swiped his access card and followed Adam through the automatic doors, presumably to make sure he got out without stealing anything.

Adam thanked the other Gear and the young man smiled before retreating back into the building and Adam turned and stretched in the alarmingly-bright light. He squinted up at the light, expecting it to be the sun, and noticed instead the light was coming from various strategically-placed floodlights; he was very much surprised to find that it was dark.

Near the big metal gates, the surgeon-Gears were wheeling Isolde towards the back of a medical transport vehicle, and Adam ran over to them. He jumped into the transport and helped them carry Isolde into it, and then he took a seat next to her. One of the surgeon-Gears joined him, and the doors were closed. As the engine started to rumble and they started to move, Adam stared at Isolde's throat; the stitches were bare and bleeding a little, but there was very little evidence that it'd been cut. The surgeons had done a good job.

"You're quite a dedicated lover."

The surgeon's voice surprised him, and he raised his eyes to the other Gears' face. It was a few more seconds before he realised what the surgeon had said, and he went bright red.

"I'm not her l-lover… she's my Sergeant."

The surgeon smiled and nodded but Adam could practically hear his cynical thoughts.

"Sure you're not, kid. No-one's that dedicated to a woman Sergeant unless they're fucking."

Adam blushed again and turned back to Isolde, but his mind stubbornly continued on imagining the surgeon's thoughts.

"Like to get me some of that… lucky kid. Wish I had a hot female commanding officer, instead of that creepy freak. This one's damn fine… What I wouldn't do to he-"

The truck jolted, and thankfully his mind was also jolted out of imagining the surgeon's thoughts. To stop them going back he radioed Harmony, who was helping supervise a squad of young Gears-in-training on their first mission; cleaning up.

"Harmony… they're transferring Isolde to the normal hospital now. It looks like the surgery was a success… she's alive, at least."

"Oh that's great news! I'd hate to have to get used to a new commanding officer."

Harmony's joking tone sounded much more relieved than her words, and Adam smiled.

"I'll stay with her tonight… are you about done babysitting?"

Harmony laughed.

"The kids were having a field day. There was lots of squealing going on because a couple of the older ones cut some body parts off and chased the younger ones around with them… thanks for looking after Isolde, Adam."

Adam shrugged and looked again at the still-unconscious Sergeant.

"It's no trouble… I was glad to do it. Will you come to the hospital?"

Harmony was quiet for a little while, then…

"Yeah. I'll be along as soon as I can. Take good care of the Sergeant, Adam."

Adam frowned; it seemed like Harmony meant more than taking care of Isolde while she was down and out. Then he shrugged again; reading too much into innocent statements was a bad habit of his. He looked up and out of the windscreen, taking in the visage of the hospital as they approached, then he looked back at his Sergeant and took her hand.

"It's all gonna be alright, Sergeant."

Still playing with my new formatting; I think it looks good, but then I'm biased.