Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, they really make writing worth it, and fo those silent ones, thank you for reading. I also want to send a special thank you to Odyssia who really helped me with this chapter and some of the others coming up. So big thanks all around!

Chapter quote: "You know, if you're trying to put me at ease . . . it isn't working."

Chapter 37: Intervention

Crying was something I had sworn I would never do over a guy again. There was no point to it and it only left you feeling drained and ugly. I had never met anyone who looked good after crying. When the Kevin incident happened, I had thought that any emotion I had for men had been extinguished the moment I had walked into his bedroom. So why did I feel wetness coating my cheeks as I ran away?

As I tore into my tent and flung myself onto my cot, get sobs racking my body, I thought that maybe crying wasn't such a bad thing, especially since I felt like scratching, biting, hitting; pretty much throwing an all out temper tantrum. I bit my lip to stop any noise from issuing from my mouth as my mind and my heart battled with one another. My heart felt as if it was shattering into a million pieces and my head was fully inclined to say 'I told you so.'

Taking several breaths, I rubbed my eyes as I took each and every emotion I was feeling, shoving it into my heart and locking it in. If I could keep my heart locked and surround by a steel case, I might actually have the will power to keep it.

Steadying myself, a huge shadow fell over my tent and Wilkins called out, "Miss Hawkins, are you alright?" I don't know how, but Wilkins had become a friend of mine. He and I were one of the few people in camp who were actually from the Colonies and that gave us some sort of kinship between each other. Wilkins almost took the place of Ian for me.

"I'm fine." I called out, burying my head in my arms as another wave was set upon me. Lily could tell I was upset, and gently meowed, bumping my head with her own.

"Can I come in?"

I sighed, rolling my eyes. Not really, no, I thought but gave him leave to do so. Having to practically bend himself in half, Wilkins ducked into my tent, moving my bag from the chair so he could sit down. I was honestly surprised that he didn't have keep his head bent, he was so bloody tall.

"You know, when a girl goes running away crying, that usually means she wishes to be left alone," I told Wilkins, not even picking my head up. After having finally gotten the cold indifference on my face that I wanted, I sat up and pulled Lily into my lap. "And she doesn't want to talk about the thing that everyone saw, so if that's why you're here, you're wasting your time."

He gave me a surprised looked, completely taken aback by my proclamation. "How do you do that? How are you able to predict someone's actions before they even do them?"

I gave him a calculating look, bordering on coldness, but it wasn't Wilkins fault I was feeling this way. "Well, I don't seem to be very good, because I should have predicted that fun little sojourn from before."

"You can't blame yourself for that."

"And why not?" I snapped wiping my cheeks from the wetness coating them. "You heard him. It was my fault that I-that I . . . oh bloody hell, I'm such a fool!" I covered my face with my hands, feeling my barriers collapsing one by one.

"You're not a fool, Miss Hawkins—"

"Yes I am!" I interrupted, picking my head up. Uncurling myself, I let feet dangle over the side of my cot and placed my little cat on the floor where she rubbed my leg and the Captain's. "Wilkins, if I wasn't a fool, I never would have been so 'informal' with that . . . I don't even know what he is!"

Wilkins gave me a sympathetic look. Sitting forward he took my hand to make me focus on him. "He's a man who is just as confused as you."

"No I'm pretty sure he knows exactly what he wants," I growled, yanking my hand away.

Wilkins shook his head, his looking turning to pity. Whether it was directed at me or the Colonel I couldn't tell. "That also isn't true. He has no clue what he wants, because if he did, he would have you."

I didn't want to feel anything from that statement. I just wanted to brush it off with a mental shrug, but my heart seemed to be made of something stronger than steel. I could feel it breaking through the hard walls. "What are talking about?" I scoffed even though my blood warmed at the thought.

"Please, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I know you're smarter and more observant than that."

I smirked. "Then explain it to me, because I'm not getting it."

Wilkins sighed frustrated, rolling his eyes. "He cares for you, probably more than anyone else in this camp."

"Well he has funny ways of showing it," I reiterated, my mood darkening once again.

Wilkins threw his hands up in the air, his eyes flashing with anger. "Stephanie, step away from your own problems for one moment and take a look at the bigger scene. He cares for you, but he is also the Colonel of the Dragoons, a title he does not take lightly. You, probably more than anyone else, also know the extent for he has gone in this war."

"You're making excuses for him."

He shook his head. "No, I'm trying to make you see reason. He wants to be with you, anyone could see that, but he's battling with himself because he knows that the minute he acknowledges it, he could wind up lost and I think that scares him."

Cocking my head in confusion I asked, "What do you mean?"

Wilkins sighed again, running a hand down his face. "Tavington isn't a man known for his heart. He has never fallen for any girl, nor does he want to settle down until he has cleared the name of his family."

"So that means he can't even tell a girl he likes them?" I continued to argue.

"No, it means that Tavington has no idea what to do in this situation. He's trying to keep a certain façade, but you seem to always break it down. After all, the leader of the Green Dragoons is not supposed to care for a colonial militia girl."

I shook my head, saying, "it's like frickin' Romeo and Juliet! Who cares what anyone else has to say? Colonel Tavington doesn't strike me as a man who takes other people's opinions to heart."

"You'd be surprised how much he cares what other people say. It's his father who never cared, and I believe the Colonel is paying the price for it. Stephanie," Wilkins took my hand again. "I know you care for him, so try to understand where he's coming from. Give him another chance. He gave you one."

"I've given him chances, plenty of them. It's not my fault he's too stupid to see what's in front of his face."

Wilkins gave me a tense smile. "I'll admit that he hasn't been thinking too clearly on this matter, but you haven't given him any reason to think you care either."

"I-ah-Well…." My voiced faded away as Wilkins gave me a triumphant smile.

"See?"

"Yes, I see," I snapped, crossing my arms. "Ok, so we're both at fault. What do you think I should do, Oh-Great-Matchmaker?"

Wilkins shrugged. "I don't know, but I'll think of something."

I cocked an eyebrow and said, "You know, if you're trying to put me at ease . . . it isn't working."

Everyone POV

Interesting doesn't even cover half of it. Bordon stood outside the Colonel's tent, not quite sure how he was going to proceed--after all, how do you tell your commanding officer that he should suck it up and tell a girl, who is suppose to be an enemy, that you care for them? Not easily, that's for damn sure. Bordon sighed and then mustering all the courage and soldier strength he possessed, cleared his throat, squared his shoulders and proceeded into the tent.

"Colonel?" Bordon glanced around the orderly tent, his eyes finally registering on his commanding officer. Tavington was bent over his desk, most likely going over some old reports, acting as if nothing even happened. However, Tavington's left leg was bounding up and down, a sure sign to Bordon that he was agitated. His work just got harder.

"What can I do for you, Captain?" Tavington asked never even looking up. He merely dipped his quill into an ink well before taking it out again to continue writing.

Bordon took a breath. "Well Sir, I believe . . . that is I think . . ."

Tavington pulled his eyes upward, giving Bordon an annoyed glance. "Come on, Captain, out with it."

"Sir, I believe you're making a grave mistake." There, he'd said it. Now he was praying that Tavington wouldn't take his nice, sharpe saber and run him through.

Tavington's blue eyes flickered surprise. "Oh you do, do you? And exactly what am I making a mistake about?" he asked, setting his quill down and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Bordon couldn't believe it. Was Tavington really that stupid? At least he's not trying to kill me.

Pointing behind him, Bordon tried to articulate, "With, ah, Miss Hawkins, Sir."

Tavington's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his usual stony indifference hit the forefront. "You heard all of that, didn't you?" Tavington asked, inclining his head towards the outside world.

Bordon nodded. "Aye, Sir, I did."

Tavington sighed, uncrossing his arms and sitting forward. He then proceeded to stand and pour him and Bordon two heavy portions of brandy from a jug on his desk. If there was one thing Tavington's father ever taught him, it was to keep a good spirit around at all times.

Handing the glass to his second-in-command, Tavington reclined back on his chair, motion for Bordon to take a seat opposite him from one of the chairs bordering the table. Each man took a sip, savoring the alcohol and enjoying the burning sensation coursing down their throats and into their bellies.

"Now, how do you believe I am making a mistake, Captain? I think I'm taking the best course of action at this point."

Bordon swished his drink around his glass, praying to the heavens above that he should not be killed this night. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

Tavington inclined his head. "Granted."

"I think your best course of action, isn't actually the best for everyone present."

"Everyone being Miss Hawkins?"

Bordon shrugged. "She takes the vanguard. Sir . . . she cares for you, everyone sees it."

Tavington snorted. "Everyone but her it seems."

Bordon shrugged, vainly wishing that Tavington would say 'you're right,' and be done with it. "Maybe," Bordon admitted. "But then shouldn't you try and find out, instead of pushing her away?"

Tavington arched a brow, amused that his second-in-command was worrying over a prisoner. "Captain, need I remind you that we are in a war? As soldiers we do not have the luxury for any kind of life outside of his Majesty's army. We are here only to put down these colonial rebel threats. That is all. I will not delve into another's life just because they may or may not fancy themselves in love." If only he believed what he had said, everything would be all good.

"Sir, you can't possibly believe that."

"And why not?" Tavington snapped, his anger rising. "Maybe because you haven't had as many unfortunate dealings with Miss Hawkins as I've had that you don't understand. That . . . woman, if you can even call her that, is too vulgar, stubborn, belligerent—"

"And completely your match, Sir," Bordon interrupted, taking a swig of the brandy.

Tavington stopped his rant, glaring at his second. "Excuse me?"

"I mean no disrespect, but Miss Hawkins and you share several characteristics. She is, without a doubt, your match. She's the only woman I have ever seen to go against an order from you, she fights for her beliefs no matter what they are. Do you not count yourself the same?"

Tavington sighed, reaching up to rub his tired eyes. "Bordon, you know why I'm here. I will be returning to England after this all debacle is over, hopefully with my family name cleared and respected again. If I were to act on the feelings you believe are there, how do you believe she would be received by the ton? She is a colonial militiawoman from the backcountry. She would be the laughingstock of London."

Bordon had to bite back a retort along the lines of 'I believe your father already covered that.' However, if he were to say something along those lines, Bordon had no doubt at all that he would be shot and mutilated before the last syllable was out.

"Besides, I have no way to support myself as of yet, let alone a wife and whatever children would come out of a marriage."

Ahh, so that was the problem.

"Your commission to Colonel pays nicely, does it not?" Bordon asked nonchalantly.

Tavington snorted, draining the rest of his glass. "It's supposed to. I have yet to see anything from it. His Lordship wants to see the outcome of this war before he's going to pay anything," Tavington added bitterly.

"Well surely, with the sum on its way, the idea of at least a courting is still plausible?" Bordon continued, taking another gulp.

Tavington's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why are you so interested in my relationship affairs, Captain?"

"I'm merely thinking about your well being, Sir. I believe that maybe you should talk to Miss Hawkins to set things straight. She looked fairly upset before."

Tavington sighed, closing his eyes briefly as if he was regretting his actions before. He was surprised to feel a sense of remorse in causing Stephanie emotional pain. He knew of the events she had faced in her life, and yet he had thrown all consideration out and had verbally attacked her. If she had felt anything for him, Tavington was sure it had long sense evaporated. "And if I were to . . . take your advice, Bordon," Tavington responded hesitantly, opening his eyes. "How would you propose I go about it? I doubt she would willingly speak to me now."

Bordon sat, thinking. What would he suggest? Stephanie's temper was legendary, almost more so than the Colonel's, so to go and speak to her in the state that she's currently in would be suicide of the highest nature. Hopefully Wilkins was talking sense into her and calming her down. Bordon wasn't sure who had the worse job, him or Wilkins.

"You could, wait for her temper to cool, Colonel, and then maybe take her somewhere private, away from the prying eyes of the camp," Bordon spoke, thinking as he stared into his empty glass. "Then you could explain to her how you really feel, and that what you said was a mistake."

"So you're saying I should apologize?" Tavington spat. He couldn't help but sneer at the motion, his manly pride screaming at him to disregard everything Bordon was saying. However, a little voice, deep inside was urging Tavington to listen, and take Bordon's advice.

"Yes. Apologize. Get on your knees if you have to, but I believe that is the only way to win her back. That is . . . if you want to."

Of course he wanted too. The damned girl wouldn't leave his head, no matter what he did. Tavington even threw himself more into his work, hoping to dissuade the bloody romantic notions traversing through his brain. That did not have the desired effect he wanted. In fact they seemed to concrete themselves more in his conscious.

"That is not an easy thing you're asking me to do, Captain," Tavington responded.

"Is anything involving women ever easy?" Bordon said smiling.

A corner of Tavington's mouth lifted slightly. "No, I don't believe it ever is. Fine, I'll think of something. You are dismissed."

Bordon stood, nodding his head to his commander before he left the tent, leaving the brandy glass on the table as he went. As soon as he was out of the tent, Bordon took a deep breath, proud of himself for getting the Colonel to see reason. Now, if only he would act upon it.

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