Note: So I was watching Mulan and it's Shirtless JP May and this got me into googling shirtless army man, so please enjoy this piece of very much self-indulgence set in an Alternative Universe.

'Evans', the captain calls, and Lily turns to him, slightly afraid as she always feels when she hears her name. Maybe this is the day her secret will be found, this is the day she will be expelled and will fall in disgrace —

But Captain Potter has one of his carefree trademark grins, none at all looking as if he is about to arrest her. He looks at ease, leaning against one of the training posts, arms crossed lazily, watching her with interest shining in his hazel eyes as if she is a puzzle he will understand someday.

Lily truly wishes he won't, so she avoids looking at him directly in the eyes.

'Captain', she answers at least, saluting. That seems to amuse him.

'I have a name, you know'.

'Hum', she stops, unsure. Her interactions with the captain have been restricted — well, her interactions with everyone have been limited —, but she has watched him from afar.

He is young and yet he never tries to act bossy with all the other soldiers, never tries to impose himself. He may have a more affinity with three of the soldiers (his friends for a long time, as she gathered), but he tries to treat everyone fairly, encouraging and teaching all soldiers equally, from the weakest of them to the strongest, and it's not hard for her to see why everyone is willing to follow him into battle. The only one that he hadn't been able to reach some sort of relationship was with her.

Something that had fit Lily's plans and worries very well.

'Captain Potter?', she tries.

'I am someone besides a rank', he suggests.

'Mr. Potter'.

'That would be my father. I am James', he says at least, as if she is unfamiliar with the name of the youngest captain of the army.

'I know, but — it would not be proper —'

'Liam', he stops her and, just as anytime someone uses that name, Lily wants to look around searching for that person until she remembers her situation. 'Can I call you Liam?'

'I'd rather Evans', she answers, grimacing, and when he looks dismayed, she adds quickly: 'It's how everyone calls me. Not… it's more personal, really'.

'Fine, Evans'. He grins again. It's a beautiful smile, so open and inviting, that again Lily has no difficulty understanding the success he makes with all the other soldiers, why their unity is unanimous in praising him. There is something on him that draws people to him — her included. 'Well, call me James. I can order you to if it will make it more proper'.

Lily lets out a laugh before she stops herself, biting her lips, worried. She shouldn't laugh; though she can disguise her voice mildly well, her laugh is too thin, too sparkling. It's not a man's grave laugh.

Fortunately, the captain doesn't seem to find anything amiss. He looks just… glad with her reaction.

'So you are capable of laughing', he notes teasingly. 'I had my doubts, you know'.

'There has never been an occasion, Cap — James '.

He opens his mouth in an offended expression; it's so dramatic that, again, she wants to laugh. 'I beg your pardon? Yesterday, when someone — a very clever someone, I might add — pretended to be shot by an arrow? That was an occasion!'

'Wasn't that you?', she asks, raising her eyebrows. It had been a long tense one minute in which one of the other soldiers, Sirius, had been sure he had shot by mistake the captain and his best friend before James had revealed himself alive, laughing hysterically and showing the fake arrow attached to his badge.

Sirius had punched him, all rank forgotten, but then he was laughing too and everyone thought it was hilarious.

'It was fun'.

'It was terrifying'.

'Oh, so you were terrified I'd died?', he jokes, his grin now very smug. 'And I thought you didn't like me'.

Lily blushes, lowering her head and hoping he hadn't noticed it. Truth was she had misjudged him on the first day, annoyed by the way he acted with that captain badge pinned on his chest. He came from a long family of militars, after all, and he was very young, no matter what his father would praise about his grades in military school, so she had truly believed he didn't deserve to be a captain, that he had only got there for his family name.

In the last few weeks, though, she was forced to admit he was a good captain. He had the vision for it, good ideas, an efficient way of training everyone and, of course, he was a leader.

'I have nothing against you, sir — James'.

'I'm glad to know', he says, sounding earnest. 'I am worried about you, you know'.

'Have I done something wrong?', she asks, surprised, fear involving her again. Lily had taken care of doing all exercises, overworking herself, all to prove that that stupid rule that forbid women in the army did not make any sense. They needed everyone in the fight against Voldemort, after all, and she would not wait patiently, especially when people like her were one of his targets.

'No, no, you've been perfect, really, no one dedicates as much as you', he assures her. 'But you don't socialize. You stay quiet during dinner. You don't participate in any of the games', he pauses, before adding again dramatically: 'You don't laugh at my pranks!'

All of it is true. Lily has purposefully gotten away from everyone, afraid they would notice something different about her, though that quiet soldier, Remus, had tried to talk to her. She just feels she can't risk.

'I do not think it's time for pranks, James', she answers, deciding the last point was probably the easiest.

He shakes his head. 'We are at war, Evans. If we don't laugh now, we may not laugh after'.

She supposes he is right. And even though he enjoys more pranks than she thinks it's reasonable, she knows he worries too. More than once, when she is on guard duty, she has noticed the light of his tent is on very late in the night. James may look carefree with everyone else, but he has concerns about the war — and what lies in his shoulder.

'Your work has been impeccable', he adds quietly. 'I just want you to get to know more of your colleagues and for them to know more about you'. Lily presses her lips, hoping her worry doesn't show on her face. That was all she was trying to avoid. 'You will need to count on them in the battlefield and they will need to know you have their backs too. And the only way to do that is if we trust each other. Can we do that?'

James is waiting for her answer, his eyes boring into hers firmly, and Lily can't turn away now. In the light of the morning, with the sun shining on his face, his hazel eyes seem to glint in gold, the pupil barely visible. He has wrinkles on the side of his eyes, and she suddenly wishes they weren't meeting in the army while she is pretending to be an introverted thin young man.

He seems the kind of guy she would like to meet in college, or to grow up together with, or even in a dancing club with her friends; they would talk and she could be then fully herself, could share with him her witty side and even help him in a prank or two. In that other life she would appreciate how nice and beautiful he is, with that black hair that's always messy no matter how much he tries to comb, and those hazel eyes that were made for laughing, not to be worried for the war.

But that's not her life and she is sure that if he ever finds out about her, he will hate her. Somehow, with how much she has learned to admire him in the last weeks, she fears his rejection more than she fears being expelled from the army.

Lily knows she would trust James Potter with her life, knows she would do her duty and die for him if it was needed, and yet she also knows she can't ever tell him her secret.

So she does what she has been doing best ever since she joined the army.

'We can trust each other', she lies.

He beams. 'Great, Evans! And I thought we could start sharing your mourning runs'. He raises one eyebrow when she looks surprised. 'I've noticed you awake at dawn to run'.

'I like to train', she admits. 'I am… thinner than the others, so I am trying to get fitter'.

'You look a lot better', he compliments, touching her arm, where her biceps have been evolving nicely. It's a pat, a soft brush, and yet it sends shivers down Lily's spine; his hand is warm. 'Mind if I join you?'

She hesitates just a little. 'I will stay quiet', she warns him. 'I like to think while I run'.

'Works for me. And if you want to share a thought or another, well, I'm here, Evans'.

He winks at her, again so friendly that she turns her eyes away, wishing she could tell him the truth. But she can't, so she presses her lips, ties the ribbon around her hair so the bun stays in place, and kneels to make sure her shoes are tied. Then she raises and her heart stops for a full second.

James has taken out his shirt. She knows he is fit — there is no way he can't be with all the years of training he had — and she has seen before shirtless, but only when she was far away in the line, hoping to get unnoticed as she trained the movements.

Now, it's only him, his tanned skin glistening under the morning sun, a god coming out of her dreams. She is staring and she knows it, but there is no way she can avoid it; weeks at the army have made her lost a lot of discomfourt around men's body, but this... This doesn't seem fair.

She watches the muscles in his arms, his biceps far more evident than hers will ever be, and it suddenly occurs to Lily that she would like very much to feel them around her, involving her, holding her. There would be only benefits in hugging him, she realizes, as her eyes move to his torso, enjoying the firmness of his chest and the muscles in his abdomen, a six pack that seems drawn perfectly. In his arms, she would glide her hand through his chest, would place a kiss over his heart and then she would raise her head and they would be so close —

And then James stretches his arms, raising them above his head, and she notices the hair on his torso, a few patches near his chest that shine with a few drops of sweat she wouldn't mind drying, and then the darked patch over his abdomen, in a path that goes on vanishing inside…

When she finds herself staring at his pants, Lily decides she has crossed more limits that it's reasonable.

She turns, all her concentration in avoiding glancing at him again, though she feels it's fruitless. The sight of him seems to be recorded in her mind. He will appear on her dream, she is sure of it.

'Everything all right, Evans?', he asks, right behind her, and she jumps. 'You look red'.

Lily knows it; her face is hot, burning even before she has started to run, and she won't fool herself pretending she doesn't know the reason.

'I'm fine, let's go', she answers quickly, heart racing in her chest. This was a horrible idea; mourning runs with her very gorgeous hot captain will do no good for her keeping her secret.

She sprints without warning, but he catches up with her easily. She keeps her eyes ahead. Don't look, don't stare, don't ogle.

'There is something special about you, Evans', he declares, the run not seeming to disturb his breathing. 'I will find out one day'.