Heather was sitting at the table, picking at the food that had been delivered to her by a friendly soldier. She hadn't had to put on too much of a front; Edward had given him orders to simply leave the food between the first and second doors. No reason to increase the possibility of germ transmission. His men were shorthanded as it was. She knew that because there was a note from Ed along with the food, explaining that he couldn't come by himself for a day or two, having previously only come over about once a week for scrabble, and occasionally escorting her home. However, he said that Private Hampton wasn't the nosy sort, so if she wanted to send him a (sealed) note, that was probably okay.
She sighed. This was going to be torturous. Not as torturous as not having him, but close. She hated the idea of this cloak-and-dagger stuff, and not just because she was terrible at it. She'd always lived her life in the open; if she felt something, she said it. She was an honest person who lived within a few limits she placed on herself – and, until now, none that others had placed on her. You better hope that the US wins this thing with full civil liberties intact, girl. You won't survive under an Orwellian regime.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Before she even said anything, she looked out the peephole. Great. Just great. It was Emily – and Mrs. Green. She might have been able to convince Emily that she was sick (through the door, so as not to reveal her terrible poker face), but Mrs. Green would want to be helpful and offer nursely/motherly advice. And she wasn't sick.
So she would pretend to be sound asleep. No, she'd always been a light sleeper. In the shower. She was in the shower, and therefore couldn't hear them at the door. She went to the bathroom so that she could be (technically) be honest when she said that she was in the shower at the time. Hopefully she was better at half-truths than lies.
It was perhaps twenty minutes later when she heard the door open.
"Heather? You okay? Where are – oh there you are."
Heather sputtered in shock. How in the hell had they gotten in?
"Emily?" she choked out.
"Sorry. You didn't answer your door or the radio, and we were worried you'd passed out or something."
"How - ?"
"We flagged down a nearby soldier, and he called Beck." Ok, that made sense. He had the other key to her apartment for security reasons.
"Hi." He called from the living room.
Heather, at this point out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, stuck her head around the door frame into the main living area in true consternation. Everyone was looking at her, which was good, because the look on Edward's face was both apologetic and amused. He gestured for her to play along. Mrs. Green, however, got right to business.
"There you are. Come here, let me take a look at you. You don't look that bad."
"I, uh, feel a little better after a shower."
When she didn't sit down as requested, Gail walked over and started to examine her anyway. Heather flinched a bit.
"You mind if I get dressed first?"
"Oh." Gail glanced over her shoulder at the major, who was now pointedly looking elsewhere. "Right."
"Uh, my PJs are over there." She said, pointing at the bed. They were hastily retrieved for her.
A minute later, Heather was dressed and sitting on the couch being examined.
"What are your symptoms?"
"Well, I'm just feeling really run down – tired, you know, a little weak. When I felt my forehead, it was bit warm, so I stayed home." She kept her symptoms nice and vague (and unverifiable by instruments) and hoped she could get away with it.
"Well, you don't have a temperature, but you did just get out of the shower. And you do appear a bit flushed." Flustered would be more accurate, but whatever works. She noticed a bit of relief on Edward's face too. "It's probably just a bug, and you caught it early. You're doing the right thing with the bed rest and if the showers make you feel better, go for it."
"Thanks."
"What are you eating?" she asked, looking around.
"Nothing special. I get deliveries from the mess tent. Edward did get me an apple. Been drinking a lot, though." That got him a look of approval.
"Any more fruit where that came from?" Gail asked him.
"I'll see what I can do."
Heather decided this was a good time to play pathetic and scrunched up on the couch like she was sleepy.
"All right, we'll leave you so you can rest. Let us know if you need anything."
"I will."
She watched through slitted eyes as Edward walked out behind her surprise guests. As he locked the door behind them, he looked back and winked at her, mouthing the words, 'good job'.
After she heard the last lock click, she released a big sigh and hit the pillow a few times.
I can't believe I pulled that off.