Chapter 3

At some point during the night, the rain that had driven them to their place of refuge had ceased, leaving behind a forest floor strewn with newly fallen leaves and pools of water. The air was heavy with the sweet, yet musty scent of dampened foliage and though the air was still fairly cool, the rising sun's beams spoke to the promise of a warmer day than the one they had previously toiled through.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the sheltered alcove in which Wyatt, Lucy and Rufus were still sleeping, was now illuminated by the morning light. Wyatt blinked his eyes open against the piercing, warm rays of the sun, groaning slightly as he was momentarily blinded by the brightness. His body was stiff and sore from his unforgiving bed, but though he could feel the jagged edges numberless pebbles piercing through his clothes and jabbing into his skin, he felt strangely contented and comfortable. As his eyes adjusted to the intensity of the dawn, he startled to find himself not only facing Lucy, but completely wrapped around her.

His first impulse was to jerk away, but as he made to move, Lucy shivered slightly and tucked herself closer to him, creating a slight stirring somewhere deep within his chest as she gripped at his jacket, as if seeking out every bit of warmth she could in their desperate circumstances. The sunlight illuminated her silky, rich chocolate colored hair which contrasted in stunning perfection against her fair ivory skin. Though it was marred by mud and dirt, her face was nothing short of lovely; there were no worry lines etched across her forehead, no franticness in her features…just peace. Wyatt realized as he lay there, a hair's breadth away from her, holding her in his arms, that he had never seen her looking so comfortable and at ease…which, considering the accommodations was saying something. But it was more than that; in all the missions they had gone on together, all the time he had spent with her, all the times he had shielded her from danger, he had never held her like this, he had never been this close…

"What time is it?" Rufus' groaned and yawned causing Wyatt to startle backwards into the stone wall of boulders behind him.

As he let out a stream of curse words, Lucy jerked awake, an apology already on her lips, "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" she muttered in sleepy confusion before her eyes fell on a grimacing Wyatt, "Oh my gosh, Wyatt…are…are you okay?"

"Fine" Wyatt muttered gruffly as he quickly scrambled out of their hiding place, halfway out of embarrassment, halfway out of desperation. He needed out of that cave, he needed fresh air…he needed away from Lucy. Sure, seeing her tuck herself into his chest, cocooned in his arms was…endearing, but he was not about to let himself get carried away by her charms…especially not when she had lied to him. No. She couldn't be trusted…and she was just his team mate…whatever awkward position they found themselves in this morning had been done subconsciously because it was cold…not because of anything else.

Rufus soon followed Wyatt, muttering that he needed to use the bathroom, leaving Lucy all alone in a space that was definitely too cramped for her liking. Somehow, with Wyatt and Rufus flanking her, she had not felt the icy cold dread that normally accompanied such places. Maybe it was because it had been too dark in the crevice that night, or maybe it was because she had just been too exhausted to care, but now with sunlight pouring in and the absence of her team mates to distract her from her darker thoughts, Lucy was more than anxious to free herself from her rocky confinement. Weighed down as she was, however, by her hefty layers, she was further impeded in her efforts by the slick, muddy surface of the rocks, which caused her to repeatedly slip backwards every time she tried to climb out from the small shelter. Her claustrophobia threatening to overwhelm her as thoughts of being trapped forever under the rocky outcropping raced through her mind, Lucy frantically hoisted herself up once more, clawing desperately at the ground in front of her only to find that the muddy forest floor offered no purchase, no grip hold onto which she could cling and work her way out of her anxious predicament. "Um…Wyatt?" she cried out as she felt herself slipping once more, "A little help? Please?"

After finding himself cuddling her that morning, helping Lucy was the last thing Wyatt wanted to do…particularly since the position she was currently in brought certain things to his attention. But as he saw her frantically struggling to wriggle herself up and out of a literal hole in the ground, knowing the anxiety she had about tight spaces, he relented with a heavy sigh, making his way over to her in a few long strides. Crouching down he gripped her hands, being sure to keep his eyes trained on the outcropping of rock above her as he pulled her up and out of the small cavern.

"Thanks" Lucy muttered in embarrassment as she wiped the mud from her hands and straightened her dress.

"Don't mention it." Wyatt mumbled in return as he quickly moved away from her. "I…um…I'm going to go look to see if I can find something for us to eat." he muttered uncomfortably. "Just…just stay here."

Lucy nodded back at him nervously, sitting down on a nearby stump as Rufus came meandering back to their makeshift camp, "Guess he's still in a bad mood, huh?" he asked as he sat down beside her. Lucy shivered slightly. Her dress was still damp from the previous night's rainfall and the cool morning air did nothing to help relieve her of her discomfort. "Where is he anyway?" he added, looking for Wyatt among the trees in front of them.

"He went to see if he could find us anything to eat." Lucy said as she stifled a yawn. "I wish we would've thought to bring something with us…maybe we should bring that up with Homeland Security when we get back."

"Yeah…maybe some damn camping equipment while we're at it…a sleeping bag…poncho…something." Rufus agreed. "One thing's for sure, I hope we find Flynn soon…I do not want a repeat of last night." He rolled his neck as he rubbed his sore shoulder, "I don't know about you, but that was the worst night of sleep of my life."

Lucy flushed slightly. The truth was that while the accommodations weren't exactly first rate…and while being wet and cold added to all of their discomfort…she couldn't readily agree with Rufus. She had been lying there, listening to Wyatt's deep breathing and Rufus' grunting snores, deciding that she would probably be awake all night despite her exhaustion when Wyatt suddenly turned and threw an arm over her waist. At first, it had made her uncomfortable…Wyatt was asleep, after all, and she knew that consciously he would never…particularly when he was so angry at her…hold her like that. But she was cold…and Wyatt was warm…and well, snuggling into his chest seemed like the natural thing to do…at the time. The steady sound of his heart beat and the feel of his warm breath on her hair lulled her into a dreamless sleep and while she knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she shouldn't be taking comfort in Wyatt's arms…especially when he didn't realize he was giving it…she couldn't bring herself to care.

That is until they woke up the next morning and Wyatt scrambled out from underneath that boulder as fast as he possibly could.

That had been a massive blow to her ego.

Maybe it didn't have anything to do with her, Lucy thought hopefully. Maybe he, like she, didn't like tight spaces.

Wyatt was never one to talk about his perceived weaknesses, after all…well, Wyatt wasn't one to really talk much, in general…about himself anyway. His opening up to her about Jessica had been a bit of a fluke, something that Lucy believed Wyatt regretted even sharing with her. Then, in Nazi Germany he had given her that pep talk, but he hadn't really gone into specifics…he had only shared his own story to help her get "over the hump." But what had he told her that was really personal? He had a Grandpa Sherwin who was a bit of a hero of his and his father was a "world class sonofabitch"…whatever that meant. The only real glimpse she had gotten of Wyatt's inner demons, was at the Alamo when she witnessed him beating himself up over the deaths of his brothers-in-arms in the same way he beat himself up over what had happened to Jessica. The look of shame that clouded his features when he realized Lucy had overheard his emotional conversation with Jim Bowie on the cusp of that terrible battle, was something that had forcibly struck Lucy to the heart. The same man who had been so arrogant at the Hindenburg, was now appearing to be not so much a reckless hothead as he was a man who expected far too much of himself.

I left them to die, and they gave me a medal for it.

Lucy knew that part of Wyatt's shame was that she had discovered a part of his past that he had hoped to keep hidden…something he had considered a massive failure on his part. Whether it worried him that she would somehow think less of him because of what he had done, she had no idea, but nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, she had grown to admire him not only for his enduring love for his wife, but also for his relentless bravery. He was a man who had risen against impossible odds time and time again. He had lived through the trauma of his wife's death and the death of his fellow soldiers, really all the family he had left, Lucy imagined, and yet, here he was, on another mission, another assignment…a dangerous one at that, protecting them, protecting history…even though his own was filled with unspeakable amounts of pain and loss. He had nothing to lose, but instead of spiraling down into a self-destructive path like Garcia Flynn, Wyatt dedicated his life to service, to helping and protecting others, no matter the cost.

How could you not admire someone like that?

Yet, as much as she admired him….as much as she felt like she understood him, she realized that there was a lot about Wyatt Logan she didn't know…and since he wasn't one to open up about his personal life and struggles, she wasn't sure if she would ever really get to know the man who seemed to understand her better than anyone she had ever known…apart from Amy.

"I found some wild blueberries." Wyatt's voice called Lucy out of her reverie as he made his way back towards them. The promise of food had Lucy and Rufus practically leaping towards him, as he handed them each a few of the ones he had picked.

"Oh my God, thank you, Wyatt." Lucy breathed out as she gratefully popped a handful of berries in her mouth. "I'm starving."

Wyatt swallowed hard, feeling a bit guilty for being so hard on the two of them. They were civilians, after all, not trained Delta Force operatives. They weren't used to these kinds of conditions…and he was pretty damn sure neither one of them knew how to forage for food. They depended on him, they needed him…just as Lucy had said at at the Alamo…and while he was still plenty upset at their duplicity and dishonesty, he knew from his time in the military that they were going to be headed nowhere fast if they didn't work together to get the hell out of this mess.

Admonishing himself for being kind of an ass, Wyatt led them over to the blueberry bush, offering what advice he could on edible flora. "One good rule of thumb about berries in the wild," he informed them with a serious nod of his head, "with black and blue ones, you're usually okay. 90% of them won't kill you." He pointed to the blueberry bush, "It's the white and yellow berries you need to look out for…most of them are deadly."

"What about red ones?" Rufus asked as he nibbled on a particularly fat blueberry he had just plucked off of the overladen bush.

"Red are tricky." Wyatt acknowledged with a quirk of his lip, "You've got about a 50/50 shot with those. Personally, I wouldn't touch them, unless I knew exactly what they were…like…a raspberry or a strawberry." He looked around at the expanse of wilderness before them, "Don't eat too many," Wyatt warned as he pulled out a handkerchief, "who knows what we're gonna find in the way of food as we push on…and unless we find Flynn soon, we're probably going to be out here for a while." Picking off a good number of berries, Wyatt wrapped them up and tucked them away, "We'll save these for later…even if we do find food, we can use these for juice."

At that warning, Lucy and Rufus greedily picked off as many berries as they could find, eating some, taking care to stow the others, which took a lot of self-control considering they had had nothing to eat for almost 24 hours. When there were no more berries to be had, they pressed on as the bright Autumn sun climbed higher in the sky.

The good news was that Wyatt seemed in better spirits, which allowed Lucy and Rufus to breathe a sigh of collected relief. Instead of the snippy attitude of the day before, Wyatt was attempting to educate them on the different ways they could sustain themselves with what was around them, "Acorns are a great source of protein," Wyatt explained as he stooped on the ground and scooped up a few fallen ones in his hand. "Cattails are also full of vitamins and nutrients…you can pretty much eat the whole thing, and dandelions too."

"Oh boy, can't wait to chow down on some weeds." Rufus exclaimed in mock excitement. "Guess you'll be telling me I can eat tree bark next…boil it down, pretend it's jerky?"

"Actually, you can…just about every evergreen has an inner bark that is full of starches and sugars…"

"How do you know all of this stuff? Don't they feed you in the Army?" Rufus asked incredulously.

"Survival courses, Rufus." Wyatt sighed, "When you find yourself in a desperate situation, you gotta know how to stay alive." He offered them both a serious nod before resuming their march towards what they hoped would be Fort Duquesne; this day's trek already much less egregious than their hike of the day before as Wyatt's shift in manner put them all in more hopeful spirits.

After several more miles of trudging through the woods that were thick with heat and humidity, however, tensions began to boil over once more. Wyatt was doing his best from becoming visibly frustrated at the lack of nothing in all directions but Rufus' audible complaints were wearing thin on his nerves. Noting this, Lucy positioned herself between the two men, having to jog on occasion to keep up with Wyatt and Rufus' longer strides yet even though Lucy hadn't so much as commented on the weather or the amount of mud now caked on her 18th century boots, she noted that Wyatt kept casting annoyed glances her way despite her attempts to be as cooperative and complaisant as possible.

After another mile or so of growing strain on their already strained team, Rufus shucked off his woolen coat, "I'm sweating like a pig over here." he moaned as he loosened the buttons on his thick leather vest. "It's too damn hot to be wearing all of this."

For September in Western Pennsylvania, it was unseasonably warm and though Lucy had made every effort to keep her complaints to herself, the heavy layers of skirts she had gathered up in her arms had her feeling a teensy bit bitter, "At least you have something to take off." Lucy reminded him as she eased her way over some tree roots that were slick with mud. "Some of us aren't so lucky."

"Point taken." Rufus conceded with a nod, "But Lucy, it's not like you'd be running around in nothing but your bra and panties, you've got like, what? Another three dresses under all of that, right?"

"Among a few other things," Lucy schooled as she rolled her eyes, "a corset, pannier, garters, and a couple hundred pins and ties." She grunted as she regathered her many skirts and leapt over a fallen limb, grimacing as her boot sunk into a wet patch of mud, "I may not be as exposed in the modern sense of the word, but I still wouldn't want to run around in just a corset and a few flimsy layers of cotton…I really don't want to run into any 18th century Neanderthals when I'm half naked."

Wyatt cursed under his breath. It wasn't enough that he was already seeing flashes of her garters every time she lifted her skirts to avoid the large swathes of mud dotting the forest floor, or that her chest was heaving almost obscenely from the exertion of their trek through these God-forsaken woods. No. Now he had to contend with the mental image of Lucy running around in her underwear and that, coupled with the many grunts and pants issuing from her as she attempted to keep up with him, was enough to make Wyatt wish that another icy downpour would mercifully fall from the heavens and relieve him of his present discomfort.

Rufus, completely oblivious to any such suffering on Wyatt's part, continued to press the issue, "I don't see what the big deal is." he said with a shrug, "pretty sure what you were wearing in Vegas was a hell of a lot skimpier than anything you could be wearing underneath all of that. Besides, I think we're all comfortable enough with each other that none of us would have any complaints if you stripped down to what passes as 18thcentury skivvies."

Wyatt begged to differ, but said nothing.

"Obviously, I don't have a problem with it." Lucy said with a huff, turning to look at Rufus as she let her skirts drop, "I mean, didn't I take off my bra on our very first mission? I'd rip this corset off in a heartbeat if I knew for sure that we wouldn't eventually need to look the part of…whatever it is we're supposed to be."

"Jesus." Wyatt breathed out as he dragged a rough hand over his face.

"Oooo missionaries, good thinking, Wyatt." Rufus exclaimed before turning to Lucy, "That's a thing now, right?"

Wyatt, however, wasn't paying any attention to Rufus. He was too focused on attempting to clear his mind of every impure though that had recently snaked its way into his subconscious, which he was finding harder and harder to do the longer he walked next to Lucy. The unbidden memory of her bare, ivory creamed, and flawless back was now being forcefully replaced by an image of her in said corset and…well, he stumbled slightly as he attempted to shake those particular thoughts out of his head.

"Are you okay?" Lucy asked as she gripped his arm.

Not able to meet her eye, Wyatt wrenched his arm out of her grasp, ignoring the flinch it incited in Lucy as he turned on his heel and muttered, "I'm fine."

"I'm guessing that's a no on being missionaries, then." Rufus observed to Lucy as Wyatt quickly huffed away ahead of them. "

"I think he's still mad about all of this stuff with…you know." she said with a meaningful glance at Rufus' side pocket.

Understanding her meaning, Rufus quickly pulled out the recorder and paused it, "You mean this?" he asked as she offered him a curt nod. "He told me to keep recording these missions for Rittenhouse. Be a double agent, Rufus" he mimicked, "so why the hell would he be mad at me doing exactly what he asked me to do?" Lucy shrugged as Rufus continued, "If anything, I'd say he's still pissed about that journal."

"This can't just be about the journal." Lucy said with a disbelieving shake of her head, "he's angry at both of us, he essentially told us both that he can't trust us anymore."

"Yeah, but he seemed to be alright this morning." Rufus countered as he made his way after Wyatt, "I mean, he didn't feed us poisoned berries, that's got to count for something, right?"

Lucy shrugged, unsure of what to think anymore. She and Wyatt had butted heads in the past, hell, after that first mission she wasn't even sure if she would be able to work with him; he was so pompous and arrogant. But then, Amy disappeared and he began to be more understanding towards her; buckling her into her harness, even when he didn't need to, comforting her when she cried, trusting her over his idol, Ian Fleming…but now, there seemed to be an iciness between them that had never existed before. It wasn't just that he apparently didn't want to be anywhere near her, he couldn't even look at her and after everything they had been through together, Lucy found that Wyatt's distance weighed on her heart more heavily than she ever believed possible. It wasn't that she didn't care for Wyatt, she knew she did…but she was taken completely by surprise at how much his coldness hurt her, how desperate she was to have him back as the confidante and friend she had come to rely on and trust.

Of course, she hadn't exactly repaid his trust in her, had she? By keeping him in the dark about those meetings with Flynn, not telling him that Flynn was being led in this mad quest by her journal, her words…why wouldn't he feel betrayed?

She thought by now, though, after being secluded with him in the Pennsylvania wilderness for close to 30 hours, that the damage that had been done to their relationship would begin to heal. Watching him stalk off ahead of them, however, hardly caring if they followed or not, Lucy was concerned that they would never achieve that same level of camaraderie and friendship that had enjoyed once before.

Darting after the retreating figures of both Wyatt and Rufus, Lucy followed, but kept her distance from the Delta Force operative, trailing behind both him and the time machine pilot as they continued their quest for either Garcia Flynn or Fort Duquesne…whichever came first.

As it was, neither appeared.

Though they had walked for a good part of the day, there was not a sign of civilization anywhere…and that troublesome fact was clearly weighing down on Wyatt as he rubbed a nervous hand across his jaw. They had long since consumed their meager ration of berries, their tongues were parched and though the sun was sinking lower in the sky, the coming evening didn't offer any hope of relief as the heat and humidity of the day gave way to a sultry and heated dusk. Finally collapsing onto a fallen log, Lucy pleaded with Wyatt, "Can we just stop for a minute? My feet are killing me."

Wyatt turned huffily to find both Lucy and Rufus sitting side by side, grimacing, their shoes off, and rubbing the soles of their feet. "Do you see where the sun is?" Wyatt asked them angrily, "We only have about an hour's worth of daylight left before we're going to have to find another place to sleep tonight. I don't know about you two, but I'd rather not spend another night in 1754 with nothing to show for it."

"It may come as a surprise to you, Wyatt, but neither do I" Rufus muttered as he rubbed rough circles into his battered heel. "But what the hell do you expect us to do? We've barely eaten anything since this morning, we're starving, we've walked God knows how long and yeah, I'm not a survivalist like you, but I'm pretty sure I'm halfway to dehydrated right now."

"You want to drink that water? Be my guest." Wyatt spat out as he pointed to the river. "Why do you think typhoid and dysentery were big killers back in the day?" Wyatt shook his head ruefully, "Dysentery can present itself in just a few hours, typhoid, a few days. You drink that, you're playing Russian roulette with your life."

"What about dehydration?" Rufus asked accusingly. "I may not be Delta Force, but I know we're not going to last long out here without something to drink."

Rufus had a point. The heat of this past day had taken its toll on all of them. Sweaty, hot, and exhausted, the dull pain in Wyatt's head told him his body was already feeling the effects of dehydration. If they didn't find this fort soon, they were going to have to resort to desperate measures.

"Isn't there any way we can make that water consumable?" Lucy asked desperately as she looked past Wyatt at the flowing river beyond.

"You can boil it." Wyatt suggested, "but first you'd need to find something to boil it in." He shook his head as he worked his against his jaw again, pacing as he furrowed his brow in thought, "It's still risky, but if we could find a place where this water doesn't run smooth…find a place where there's waterfalls, rapids, something…that's generally the best place to drink fresh water without filtering it in some way."

"And if we don't?" Rufus asked meekly.

"That's not an option." Wyatt grimly remarked. "Let's keep moving, maybe we can find something before nightfall."

They continued their trek for what felt like miles when Wyatt suddenly raised his hand and motioned for Lucy and Rufus to hide behind a large tree. Crouching down behind one of his own, Wyatt peered out through the underbrush, at what Lucy could now see was a few French soldiers and a small gathering of Native Americans who appeared to be having some sort of confrontation as their voices were getting louder and more heated, cutting through the darkening forest like dissonant chorus.

It had been so long since they had heard any human voices besides their own, that it seemed almost surreal and a bit disconcerting to suddenly find themselves not so alone in the expansive wilderness. Yesterday, they would have rejoiced at such a sight, but today, in the growing dim, it made them all suddenly nervous. There had been hardly a sign, hardly a waver in the atmosphere to alert them to the presence of others. It wasn't until they were almost on top of them that they heard or even saw them.

And that was more than a little unsettling.

Spying the French encampment a few yards in the opposite direction, Wyatt wordlessly motioned for Lucy and Rufus to follow him as he crept soundlessly towards a partially built structure surrounded by a series of tents and pickets, the guards of which all seemed to have been dispatched to deal with the argument ensuing just outside its borders.

"This…this isn't Fort Duquesne." Lucy breathed out as they settled themselves behind a boulder. "This fort isn't even built yet….and look, there's only one river here."

"Then where the hell are we?" Wyatt asked hotly as he peered out from behind their hiding place to survey the situation unfolding before them.

Lucy shrugged, "I don't know…I guess this could be Fort Machault…or what will become Fort Machault, anyway."

"What do you mean, you think?" Wyatt asked angrily.

"Well, I'm sorry," she spat back defensively, her face flushed with anger, "I don't know when every insignificant fort was built in the entire history of the French and Indian War!"

"Are you telling me, we've walked all this way and there isn't even a fort?" Rufus moaned. "Should've gone South…and the irony of that statement, by the way, is not lost on me."

"It's an encampment, which means, there should be supplies." Wyatt muttered as he loaded his gun and cast a wary glance towards the gathering that was drawing more and more attention away from the makeshift fort. "And that's what we need right now more than anything, right? Food, something for water…a damn map?"

"What are you going to do?" Lucy asked suddenly as she looked up at Wyatt in alarm, "You're not going over there?"

"Why wouldn't I go over there?" Wyatt asked huffily as secured the clip with a slap of his hand, "we need supplies."

"Yes, but Wyatt…you don't speak French." Lucy reminded him.

"I'm not gonna be chatting them up, Lucy," Wyatt countered, "The whole point is for them to not even know I'm there."

"We should at least go in there together, that way if you're caught…"

"We'll be more likely to get caught if we all go." Wyatt argued. "Besides," he stated with a pointed nod, "you're probably safer out here."

"What do you mean by that?" Lucy asked hotly.

Wyatt let out a heavy sigh, "I mean, these soldiers probably haven't seen a woman in ages…"

"I can handle a few cat calls, Wyatt." Lucy spat back in annoyance.

"I'm not talking about cat calls, Lucy." Wyatt stated meaningfully. Lucy made to argue, but Wyatt talked over her, "Rufus, back me up here, will ya?"

"I think you should listen to Wyatt, Lucy." Rufus said with a nod of his head. "I mean, he's right…there's not a lot of…your kind hanging around out here. And I'm not sure if you know this or not, being the historian and all, but seeing as how I'm an actual commodity, I'd rather not go around advertising myself to a bunch white guys in obvious need of manual labor" he added as he pointed towards the unfinished fort.

Defeated, Lucy sat back with a sigh, but grew even more anxious at the sound of more arguing off to their left. She watched as more French solders made their way towards the small band of natives, feeling at once that whatever was happening wasn't good.

As Wyatt made to move past her to the encampment beyond, Lucy pleaded with him desperately, "No, Wyatt…please…" she whispered, "you don't understand, I think these Native Americans…Wyatt, listen to me!" she demanded in a harsh whisper as he continued to ready himself, "the Battle of Jumonville Glen…" But it was no use. Wyatt firmly placed a finger to his lips and slipped quietly past her, taking care to keep his eyes on the distracted French troops as he stealthily creeped forward into the neglected camp site. Staring after him, frustration and indignation firmly etched on her face, Lucy threw her back against the boulder with a huff, "Great, that's just great. He's going to get himself killed and we're going to be stuck out here…"

Damn bugs!" Rufus spat out as he slapped his neck with his hand, apparently oblivious to Lucy's dire prediction, "West Nile isn't a thing yet, is it?"

Rolling her eyes in annoyance she answered, "No, but if I were you, I'd be a little more concerned with malaria."

"Mala…are you being serious right now?" Rufus asked her in a state of panic, "Am I going to end up with malaria?"

"Relax" Lucy assured, "the incubation period can be anywhere from a week to a month…and by then, we'll be home." She cast a nervous glance towards the ever-increasing tense scene unfolding just beyond the clearing from them as she added, "If we don't die here first, that is."

Notes:

Apologies for almost being a month in updating this sucker...I've been BUSY. Spring is always a nutty time of year...I think for just about everyone. I have been slowly updating this and the last few chapters of WMHB as I get the opportunity, writing a paragraph or two here and there anytime I get a chance or the inspiration, SO I GREATLY appreciate your patience and your readership. Thanks so much for hanging in there - hopefully when I finish WMHB the updates between these chapter updates won't be so stretched out.

Also, just a heads up - I MAY change the rating of this fic to M - not for sexy times...sorry, kids (I leave that to the professionals who know what they're doing) but for violence and situations. I really do strive to keep my fics at T level, but this is the French and Indian war and if you know your history, it's not a pleasant thing. There were some BRUTAL moments, and we're going to be experiencing some of them in this fic, either through narrative or through our character's experiences. I'm not one who thrives on a lot of violence, so what I consider M, maybe you all won't mind so much, but since it does deviate from my usual, I just wanted to give you a courtesy heads up that there will be situations coming up that will be a bit graphic. I'm just trying to stay true to the history of the war and the types of fighting involved - the book I own on the French and Indian War (and really, I don't have much background in it, my history concentration was on the American Revolutionary and Civil War/Gilded Age) is seriously like a Quentin Tarantino movie...which is a bit much for me. Some of you are probably laughing right now...and that's fine...but I try to be as open with my readers as i possibly can (without spoiling the narrative) so that no one stumbles onto a situation or a violent description that they are completely unprepared for.

I hope I didn't scare any of you away with that...I really am excited about what I've got planned for this fic (and for someone who doesn't do a lot of violence in her TV/movie watching - I hope that gives any of you who are concerned, a small bit of comfort)

I hope you enjoyed this update! As always, thank you for reading and your reviews are very much appreciated and loved.

Thanks!