Once again, apologies for the poor spelling and grammar. I have no beta and you can only look at something so many times before you go cross eyed and stop spotting the mistakes!

I've still not managed to read any of your stories, and I'm sorry for that. Unfortunately, real life has gotten in my way. But huge thanks to all of you still reading this crap!

Fingers crossed you find something to enjoy from this 😀

Panic seemed to be the instantaneous reaction, as the soldiers on the ground within the FOB reached for their weapons.

The sound of gunshot, although not unusual, was unexpected in the vicinity.

What made Charles panic, was the knowledge that two section were out on their second patrol, with Kinders at the helm.

Once the immediate threat was determined to be outside the walls, the area calmed, with the necessary personnel positioning themselves at their stations.

"Contact, 200 metres ahead, 4 shots, single shooter, sir." Kinders called into the comms.

Captain James sprinted up the steps to the watch tower.

"Have you got eyes on him?" He asked, his voice rough as he ran.

"No, sir. Interpreter says they're targeting the female."

His breath caught in his throat as a sharp pain hit his chest, panic bubbling thickly in his stomach, rising to his throat like burning bile, as he brandished his binoculars and searched for any sign of an insurgent that they could take out.

"Get back inside now!" Charles called, his breathing ragged as he tried not to consider the imp being shot on her way in.

He would care just as much if it was one of his men being targeted, he reminded himself. It wasn't because it was the imp. It was because his team was at risk, and it was his responsibility to ensure they all made it home alive. They'd not even been there a day, and he was at massive risk of failure on that particular duty.

Charles watched, searching wildly, as each of the men ran, one by one, back into the bunker. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath, as Kinders tapped the gobwomble, signalling that she was next, until he felt like he could no longer breath.

What was taking her so long. Charles watched as Smurf spoke to her.

"Come on!' He grunted under his breath, hoping that Harper, who was next to him, wouldn't notice that he appeared to have lost his mind and was talking to himself.

It was sudden and unfounded for Smurf to stand, boldly, before unleashing his weapon on the compound 200 metres away.

"Get down, Smurf, get down!" James yelled, fury at the stupidity of the young Geraint look alike, as he continued to recklessly fire.

There was nobody in sight.

Kinders, reluctantly, and a little foolhardy, joined the firing, in an attempt to support one of his section.

Smurf paused for a second, screaming something unintelligible at the imp, before she found her way, shakily, to her feet and scrambled for the safety of the FOB.

Harper's weapon joined the succession of firing bullets as he covered the gobwomble's heavy run across the open terrain.

Smurf collapsed into the bank of the dried river, panting heavily, the firing finally at an end.

"I didn't see anything!" Captain James mumbled, seemingly to Harper, but really, he was just voicing his thoughts to the air, unsure what had just happened.

To think he'd been so pig headed as to dismiss her theory that there was something off about Smurf.

Clearly he'd been arrogant, believing that he knew better. What had just happened, wasn't right.

Charles had some theories about what had gone on out in that ditch, moments before. He was all for protecting team mates and working together. But not at the expense of innocent lives. And the risks Smurf had taken, had been reckless. The possible outcomes - unthinkable.

Taking his time down the steps, he watched as the boys seemed to revel in what had just happened. Treating Smurf like a hero, they laughed in adrenaline increased excitement, while the imp sank, silently, seriously and almost dejectedly to the floor. She leapt to her feet as he approached, the boys shutting up, instantly.

"What have we just learnt?" Charles called, impatiently. He looked around, waiting for an answer that was not forthcoming. "WHAT HAVE WE JUST LEARNT?" he all but screamed, aggression evident in his tone. Yanking his head set off, he answered for them. "Everytime we step outside of this compound, we need to be totally alert." The lads stayed silent, clear that he was not in the mood for their usual banter or dim witted remarks. "Medic." He tossed his head sideways in a 'let's go' gesture, before marching towards her tent.

Nobody could say Charles James wasn't a gentlemen. Even in a FOB in Afghanistan, he had etiquette, which was evident as he held the tent flap open, allowing the imp to enter first.

She was silent as she bustled around, placing her bergen down and fiddling idly, as he hopped onto the bed and remover his socks.

"I er- I need you to have a look at my blisters."

"Yes, sir." She muttered, obediently, before crouching and placing his foot in her soft grip.

"Well, what do you think?' Charles asked, in an attempt to not think about her delicate hands touching any part of him.

Get your mind out of the gutter, James. This isn't you! You're better than this. She's your medic.

"Well, they stink, sir, with all due respect."

Well, with the thoughts that were currently wracking his brain, he wasn't due much.

Charles forced a laugh out through his nose, as she let go and he regretted the loss of skin to skin contact, immediately.

The imp clearly didn't notice and he wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or grateful.

At least someone knows their place! His traitorous mind told him, as he watched her turn to collect the necessary equipment.

"His behaviour when he was unloading his weapon into that compound was reckless and unprofessional." Charles noted, the air suddenly turning serious as he steered firmly back into professional ground.

"Who, sir?" The imp answered, playing the unaware card. Charles didn't dignify her answer with a response. Instead, he continued on, knowing they both knew exactly who he meant.

"Well, maybe he was in the wrong frame of mind."

"Sir." The imp acknowledged, reluctantly, before turning away from him.

"Did you see anyone, Dawes?" The Captain watched as she avoided his question, feeling a strong sense of annoyance that she had brought her concerns to him, and now that he was conceding that she was likely right, she had very little to say on the matter. "He didn't eyeball anyone..." she continued to work, diligently, not distracted by anything, as she prepared her necessary equipment. "Say there were some children playing inside. It doesn't bear thinking about." Charles watched her, intently as she continued to avoid the conversations, before loosing his patience and demanding an outright answer. "Did you see an unsurgent, Dawes?"

"He's a good lad, sir..." She knew she had no choice but to answer, having already been afforded the benefit of the doubt for far longer than normal. "He's got a lot of stuff he's dealing with." She justified, raising Charles' hackles.

"You don't deal with it whilst you're carrying a lethal weapon." He told her sharply, before, inhaling and trying to rein himself in.

"He's alright. He just saved my arse in that ditch."

Hed known something had happened. So, she'd frozen, again! The more he got to know her, the more he felt like he had misjudged her, only for him to hear something about her conduct that was incompetent. The reminder that she was green, useless and likely to get someone killed, was like a cold, dousing shower, that rectified any inappropriate thoughts that might have slipped through only moments before.

Charles knew what it was like to be part of a team. He knew that they protected their own and that by agreeing with anything he was saying, she would feel like she'd betrayed Smurf after he'd taken such prestigious care of her when the heat was on. Charles knew there was no winning on this. The both knew deep down, what had happened and that it could cause problems for the section. For now, he'd deal with it without any further input from her. He'd be keeping a very close eye on Dylan Smith.

Clearing his throat, he watched her for a few more seconds, before changing tactics and forcing out a pine of conversation that had nothing to do with anyone else, or anything important.

"I knew I didn't need new boots. There was nothing wrong with my old ones."

She was so close, he could smell the coconut of her shampoo, as he watched the side of her face. Those mesmerising freckles were in full view. He wondered for a second how long he'd need to watch her, before he could count them all, before he shook himself from the ludicrous imaginings and looked away.

"They'll wear in." She told him, casuinf him to look at her once more. She still hadn't turned to him, almost avoiding eye contact, so he stared at the side of her nose, and the one larger than the rest freckle on her cheek. "Let me dress your blisters and you can get back to running us around the compound." He watched thay freckle as she spoke, his fingers itching to trace it, wondering if it was smooth or slightly raised. He pulled his eyes away, answering her, with only a hint of sarcasm, that she likely wouldn't detect.

"Let's see how good a medic you are, Dawes."

"The nuts, sir." She offered, with a grin, as her eyes met his for all of a second, before continuing back to her work, amusement still playing on her face.

A spark of electricity hit his chest at the brief eye lock, causing him to look at her for a second longer, in surprise. Fuck! His brain was obviously malfunctioning around this little cockney. He huffed a small laugh in self deprecation, because he was clearly over thinking his earlier reaction to her delicate, feminine hands, touching him. Who could blame him. He was a red blooded man on tour with too many men. When he had a female to look at, it was clearly adling his mind.

She cleaned his blisters and dressed them with care, as he thought about Fingers and Mansfield, while staring at the roof of the tent, not allowing lady luck any chance to implant false attraction with more of thay dreaded eye contact.

When she was done, he thanked her brusquely, before exiting the tent and calling

"Smurf. Word."

"Have a seat, Smurf." Captain James offered the younger man, taking a seat himself on the edge of his bed, so that he didn't appear too unapproachable. He needed the Welsh man on side, so that he'd admit to a problem, though Charles didn't think it was likely.

"Sir." Smurf muttered, uncertainly.

"Now, it's been brought to my attention, that you might not be up to your usual standard, Private Smith? Thay perhaps you're having a hard time dealing with the realities of war?" Charles began, watching as the other man's face closed over, a hard mask replacing the previous look of confusion.

"And who might've said something like that, sir?" He asked, through gritted teeth.

"Well, I don't think that's particularly relevant. Now, I can understand that being here would be difficult for you, Smurf. It's nothing to be ashamed of, if you are finding things harder than you thought they'd be. But I need to be on the same page as you. So are you having any problems? Maybe you don't think you're as impartial to things as you should be? Like this morning? How you behaved - it was reckless, because you didn't actually see-"

"I told you, I saw movement in the bunker and I took action, sir. I don't have a problem and if you're referring to Geraint...I could ask you the same thing, sir. Is it difficult for you to be here?" Charles almost blanched at Smurfs response, but managed to compose himself.

"I disagree, Smurf. I don't think you saw anyone in that bunker. I think you used the opportunity to make yourself feel better by unloading your weapon. I don't think you're 100 percent in the right frame of mind and I don't appreciate the tone you're taking with me. Jut i understand thay when we feel attacked, we can jump to the defensive. So know, im not attackonf you. I want to help and keep this section and in turn, platoon, safe. So I'll ask you one more time. Are you having any problems, Private Smith?"

"No, sir!"

"Well then, know that I will be keeping an eye on you, Smurf. One toe out of line..."

"Thank you, Sir!" Smurf answered, defiantly, with an almost sarcasric edge.

"Dismissed, Private."

Charles gritted his teeth, as he watched Smurf stomp out of his tent.

The very fact that the young Welsh man was refusing to acknowledge any issues had him concerned.

Short of sending him back to Bastion and informing his superior officers that he was worried about a seemingly healthy soldier - and therefore reducing the size of his platoon - and rendering a section a man shy of full, to which, said man would be returned and the Captain bollocking to within an inch of his officer life, there wasn't much Charles could do, until Smurf toed that fine line.

For now, he'd just have to have Smurf in his sights.

2 sections mail was delivered on the helicopter that took Major Beck back to Bastion for a briefing. After todays gunfire and the knowledge that their target was the female medic, he'd wanted to get a proper insight into the cells that were likely in operation around their FOB.

"Fingers...what the fuck are you wearing?" Charles asked, incredulously as the young man strutted around in a pair of union Jack shorts.

"They're my pulling shorts, Sir!" Fingers proclaimed with a wide, proud grin.

"And just who exactly, are you planning to pull out here, Fingers? Because I don't think any of us are interested!" Captain James informed him, morosely shaking his head, as if he was breaking tragic news to the idiot.

"Yeah, I doubt even Dawses would be interested in you, Fingers." Baz Vegas laughed.

"I don't know boys. Pretty sure Dawes would open her legs for just about anyone. I've got experience!" Smurf smirked, cockily and Charles involuntarily blanched, shocked by what the Welsh man was implying, before he reminded himself that he didn't care.

"Well, her standards are seriously low, then Smirfoid!" Charles deflected, grinning, in spite of the bile that was wavering around in the pit of his stomach. The rest of the lads oohhhed and heckled, while Smurf looked bashful.

The imp and Smurf? No wonder she thought she knew him well enough to comment on his state of mind. Irrational anger at the cocky little bastard rose up Charles throat. He had no idea why the information bothered him so much. He barely tolerated the imp. Who she slept with was none of his concern.

He didn't care. He didn't care. He didn't fucking care!

Charles gave himself a few minutes to take deep, steadying breaths, while he repeated the mantra on his head and allowed the bile and anger to retreat, before shouting at the lads, that the mail had arrived and they should all gather at the stage.

Back to his usual, jovial self, Charles made his way over to the stage, Dangleberries one step behind him, dragging the mail bag with him.

The lads were gathered around, with excited miens, desperately hoping that their first career package would be a good one.

"Right! Let's get this done." Charles groaned, playfully, "before you lot piss yourselves with excitement." The lads sniggered as he pulled the first parcel out of the bag. "Right, Fingers..."

"Yes, sir." He waved, showing he was ready for his delivery. Charles proffered the package to him and he stepped forward with a smug look of excitement.

"Give that to Dangleberries, would ya!"

The lads jeered as Fingers deflated, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

The impact appeared from her tent as Charles looked around and he called

"Dawes! Mail, come on."

"She likes a male, sir." Smurf commented, without invitation.

"Aooow!" Fingers almost cancelled as Dawes approached, sullenly. The look on her face, or the uncomfortable way she carried herself did nothing to deflect Smurfs digs.

"I was about to say has anyone noticed there's no grass in Afghan, but I spoke too bloody soon."

The boys sniggered, with the imp shifted, awkwardly. Charles wasn't sure what was going on, but he felt like the section was back at square one. It seemed as though the little progress the imp had made to being accepted as one of the team had taken a U turn, along with Fingers fashion sense.

Before Charles had the chance to address the clearly festering issue in the group, Kinders appeared from the ops ten, calling out to him.

"Boss man, Major Beck on the net."

He glanced around, feeling torn about not making sure things were okay, before he left, but knowing he needed to see to his call.

"Right, Fingers, you take over. And no arsing around. I'm the only one who is allowed to arse around."

"Sir."

"So everything else has been okay since I left?"

"Yes, sir. Three section returned from their patrol without any issues. No contact was established and they were on their guard."

'Excellent! It looks like I won't make it back until the morning. I know you'll feel sorry for me when I tell you thay Harte and his team have been called in for an issue and I'm stuck in his company tonight." Beck smirked.

"Elvis is here?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Beck ribbed, good naturedly.

"I'm sure he's behaving himself as well as ever!" Charles chuckled, knowing that Beck hated it when he and Elvis were anywhere near his vicinity.

The whole atmosphere was awkward and uncomfortable, even into the next morning. The lads distanced themselves from the imp in the ops tent when they were receiving their instructions, so much, that anyone would think she was radio active. Even when they set off to their destination, they'd all given her a wide berth.

Nearing the river bank, Charles decided that it was as good a time as any to find out what was going on. He placed himself in the large gap between her and the lads, slowly closing the gap, which wasn't hard, with her little legs moving at a snails pace, compared to his larger steps.

"Is everything alright Dawes?"

"They're sending me to Coventry, sir." She sighed, wistfully.

"Woahhh! That's worse than Helmand!" He tried to make light of it, to make her feel better, though he wasn't entirely sure why. "Why are they doing that?"

"Cos of what I said to you about Smurf."

Her English left a lot to be desired, but he could hear the sadness behind the poorly crafted words and it almost made him wince. Charles sighed, heavily.

"I have to get everyone through this tour. That's my job and nothing else matters."

"Yes, sir." The imp answered, not sparing him a glance.

"And therefore I'm grateful to you. Despite what they say, you did the right thing to tell me your concerns. And for what it's worth, I think I make you right...I'm a tad worried, too."

"Thanks, sir." The imp sounded grateful.

Charles took his chance to avoid any further heavy discussions when he saw the ANA lying around on the job.

"Glad to see they're cracking on." He intentionally raised his voice so that his words could be heard.

"What are they gonna do when we pull out completely?"

"That's not for us to worry about, Dawes. We just do what we're told until we get back on that plane to Brize Norton."

"This whole place is just gonna go...boom" the boom was a little exploding sound at the back of her throat and Charles struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

"I follow my orders and I trust those higher in the chain of command to see the bigger picture."

"Really?' The gobwomble looked unconvinced, but Charles remained steadfast.

"Absolutley. It's what we have to believe in and so I believe in it. I suggest you do the same." The slight admonisent made her cheeks tinge red. Charles moved away from her, calling out to the rest of the section.

"Mine fields to the west below the river bed. Be aware!"

Leaving the imp, he greeted Captain Azizi, and let her walk on up the trail.

"So, how have things been going? Any problems. I see you have the troops hard at work!" Charles smirked and Azizi looked bashful.

Why was he so aware of her. He knew where she was, who she was with and what she was doing at all times.

Charles tried to convince himself that it was because she was the only female. It was natural instinct. The primal side of biology, thay made him, as a man, feel more protective over a female.

It was bollocks. He knew that. If the imp looked like Mansfields identical sister, he wouldn't be thinking about her every five seconds. She wouldn't be distracting him with the gob and impish qualities.

Right now, she was down the path, having a friendly conversation with one of the local girls. The one he'd given a pen on their first day at the FOB. Quaseem was with her, no doubt translating, but she was grinning as if she was talking to her best mate back home.

He watched as she shook hands with the girl and then made her way back up the hill to be ignored by the lads. His traitorous heart gave a little pang at the thought of her segregated from the group.

Then again, the idea of her not being near Smurf, raised his spirits slightly, before he gave himself an internal shake and shook off all thoughts of her.

"Relax, lads. Make sure you're loaded up on water. Dehydration's an absolute bitch out here. Check your piss-" his jaw bone gave an involuntary twitch as he watched dangleberries throw a water bottle, haphazardly at the imp. "-make sure it's not too yellow. Fingers, I want you to set up a kitchen. Surf, you're on latrine duty, set up an area."

"Sir." Smurf muttered, obediently.

"Well away from my kitchen, please." Fingers almost sang.

"And we need a spot to burn the silver shit bags. Nude-nut." Although Dangles was lucky it wasn't him! Charles had to remind himself thaybhe couldn't treat the lads differently, because he was thinking about the imp. If he was letting one of the section dictate his behaviour, he'd be as bad as Kinders, who had yet to put a stop to any of the...rivalries. Dangles looked far too pleased, sniggering at his fellow comrade and it made the Captain's blood bubble. "Dawes. I want you to set up a treatment facility with an ANA medical. And Captain Azizi? I'll need you to clear those kids away, right now."

Smurf approached the imp, and the two of them seemed to exchange some heated words, before Dawes grinned again at the departing girl.

"Dangles." Charles called and the younger man looked around, expectantly. "Help Nude-nut!" Dammit, he'd let himself get carried away, but it felt good to watch Dangleberries face drop.

If you'd asked Charles who gravitated to who, and how they'd managed to be standing next to each other, he'd have no answer. But here they were. He sipped at his Rosabaya coffee, to give his hands something to do, as he watched over the landscape.

"I guess I'm lucky the army weren't called in to make sure I went to school in East Ham." The imp announced, brashly.

"What, you didn't go?" Charles asked, surprised that not only would someone not go to school, but they would admit that they didn't.

"Could you tell?" She grinned and he let out a small guffaw, in wonder.

"Still, don't need GCSE's out here, do you?" He justified, after only seconds of grasping at straws to excuse her lack of education.

"Well, it's a good job I ain't got any, then, sir." She deadpanned. Charles let out a little scoff, thinking that she was quite funny in her brash little Cockney way, when a loud bang made her duck. He dropped his coffee, army instincts overuling his desire to save the Rosabaya, before he ran for cover.

"Man down! Man down!" Nude-nut screamed, running towards them. Very quickly, the area descended into chaos, all if them screaming man down, as the searched for the source of the shot.

"What's happened?" Charles shouted at Nude-nut.

"I dunno, Smurf saw something and went down by the river bed, sir."

"Across the riverbed?"

"Has anyone got eyes on?"

"200 metres. Half left. Beyond the bridge. " the imp answered the question, surprising Charles at hiw observant she was in an emergency.

"That's Smurf!"

"It's a bloody minefield. What's he doing in a bloody minefield?" Searing panic shot up his throat, as images of Geraints dead body floated through his mind. What the fuck was Smurf thinking? This was exactly what he'd been worried about, ever since the imps prediction had become his own concerns. "What are you doing in a bloody minefield?" Charles screamed down the radio.

"I've been shot! I'm pumping blood!" Smurf called back, in a panic.

"Smurf, what direction was your contact?"

"Im pumping blood!"

"He's got the vallon with him, sir!"

"He took it down with him, sir."

"He needs a medic!" Masfield cried, the whole section in chaos.

"I can get to him, sir. I know my mine clearing drill." The ump called, pulling on her bag.

"No fucking way! Wait out!" Charles screamed. There was no way he was sending her down there to be blown to smithereens along side Smurf.

"Sir, he's loosing blood. I can get to him." She argued, her gob once again causing trouble.

"Wait out!"

"Just because I'm a female, sir, I don't want special treatment."

She'd called him out, with every member if the section watching. Well fuck, what could he do, other than send her along the riverbed and hope she survived. "I'm the medic, I should go!"

"I'm pissing blood! I can't stop it!" Smurf broke through the radio, and Charles groaned, internally.

"Dangleberries, Brains, with me, now!" Charles cried, making a split second decision to cover her on the way down.

"Move, move, move!"

The ran down to the riverbed, crossing over the damaged bridge as Smurf's voice could be heard, calling out.

"Molly. Molly."

"Stay calm, Smurf!"

"Brains, Dangles!" Charles commanded and they took cover, to ensure they had the best angle in case any more insurgents popped up. He was breathing heavily, eyes everywhere. "Alpha 3.0 Bravo.9. Lino. Roger. So far. Over." The imp was calling to Anurf, asking his questions. "You alright Dawes. You're going to need a winch. There is nowhere to land, I repeat, there is no where to land." He held his breath, waiting to see if she made it to Smurf before he bled out, or worse, she came into contact with one of the old mines. She was calling to Smurf, but getting no answer. Please god, let him be alive. Charles didn't want to have to tell his mother that she'd lost another son. That he'd lost her another son. "You alright, Dawes?"

"Have you got eyes on Smurf? He's gone quiet." She asked through the radio, more worried about her comrade than herself, even though said comrade had been making her life a living hell.

"ETA 30 seconds on the MERT, sir." Dangles called from below him.

The lads were getting desperate now, calling for Smurf through the radio. He let himself turn his attention and concerns to Smurf for thirty seconds, while he could still see her moving.

"Dawes have you got eyes on Smurf? Speak to me. How is he?"

The bang, and the puff of dust as her limp body flew through the air stopped his heart, even as he ducked in fear that it may have some far reaching repercussions around them.

When he caught his breath once again, his heart raced, frantically, panic rising in his throat, making it difficult to form her name.

"Dawes...Dawes...Dawes...Dawes...DAWES..DAWES." Each time her name passed his lips it became more desperate, more frantic, more painful to say. "Dawes? Dawes, are you alright? Dawes, talk to me?"

"I'm alright. I'm alright, sir!"

"Oh fuck!" He whispered, relief flooding through his body, like it never had. He dipped his head allowing himself a few seconds to inhale and calm his racing heart. He still had to get Smurf home alive. He couldn't be too relieved yet.

Pushing himself back up, he listened to the lads try to call encouraging things down the radio to Smurf, hoping for a response.

"Dawes, how is he?"

"Sir, I'm gonna need a helicopter, I'm losing him." He turned to Dangles.

"Where the fuck's that fucking MERT?"

"Should be here any second, sir." Dangleberries told him, hopefully, his face brightening as the sound of the helicopter rota became apparent and the chopper came into view.

"Sir, they can't land here, it's mined to buggery."

"They're gonna drop a winch. Secure him to the winch and they'll hoist him up." Charles advised her.

"I'm a urm-...I'm gonna have to go up with him, sir."

"Ansoloutely no way, do you hear me. There's a sniper out here and you'll be a sitting target, dangling on the end of a fucking rope. NO WAY!" Was she fucking stupid. Why would she even consider that as an option?

"Sir, the tourniquet's not working. If I take my fist out of his groin, he's gonna bleed out."

"Dawes, do not go up in thay winch. THAT IS AN ORDER! DAWES DO NOT GO UP IN THAT WINCH THAT IS AN ORDER. DO YOU HEAR ME? Dawes? She goes up with him, the sniper will pop her, straightaway. DAWES, WHAY DI YOU THINK YOURE DOING? GET OFF THAY WINCH NOW! THAY IS AN ORDER! DAWES?!" She was deliberately disobeying his order. "Oh fuck!" He breathed, his eyes unable to avoid watching the catastrophe as she was hoisted up alongside Smurf. Even when she'd gotten into the chopper he didn't feel like he could breathe. He watched as the rest of the section cheered and called out to her, as she flew by. They were celebrating because she'd risked her neck and he was furious. Even sensible Quaseem seemed tobhave lost his mind in her moment of glory. "What she just did there was stupid beyond belief. She disobeyed a command and put her life in danger." He took a few heavy breaths, before admitting to himself, alone. "It was also fucking awesome!"

She'd totally disregarded what he'd said!

It was entirely possible that she hadn't heard his instructions over the noise of the helicopter. But Charles was willing to bet all future cups of his precious Rosabaya, that she had heard exactly what he said and still chose to go up in that winch.

The problem with that was, that if it were true, and she admitted to it, she could be in for some serious trouble. Just when he was becoming accustomed to having her around, she'd end up getting herself chucked out of the army.

"Sir." Charles watched her approach him. Overall, he figured she looked calm and collected. With maybe a pinch of apprehension about how she was about to be recieved.

"If you think you're going to win any plaudits for that ridiculous and foolhardy act, your are 100 percent mistaken." He'd considered his words carefully, before delivering them.

"Yes, sir. Sorry sir." Deep down, he was certain she was anything but.

"That's what my commanding officer said to me, when I went to retrieve Smurfs brother." It had taken him a while to see the similarities in their situation but, once he had, there was no denying it.

"Sir?"

"Having said that, did you hear me tell you not to go up on thay winch?" He held his breath, waiting to hear her reply.

"No, sir."

Thank god!

"Then we'll done, Dawes." She hadn't admitted something he couldn't ignore. More than a part of him was relieved, but he refused to consider too much, the reason for said relief, and allowed himself to believe that he was just getting used to her being in two section. He didn't want to have to break another medic in, after all. Especially now that he'd seen her in action.

"Thank you, sir. Look, I'm not what Smurf said I was, I didn't deserve that."

"I know!" He'd feel much better if they weren't having this conversation, but he supposed if he was treating her like the other lads, he had to.

" I might have slept with a few people I regret..."

'We all have, it's 2014, not 1914. Don't let a bit of name calling put you off the task in hand. You're an excel medic. You've proven yourself!" He cut her off, not really wanting the mental image of her and smurfoid.

He gave her a tight smile and watched her wander off to the bunk area.

He hadn't treated her any differently than he'd treat any if his platoon. He hadn't given her any special treatment. He was becoming overly attached or involved. She was simply his subordinate and he was doing the best he could to paint the green.

The little juice that sounded way too much like Elvis, cackled.

Charlie and the imp, sitting in the tree-

Charled swatted the Elvis like annoyance, as if the real Elvis was around, and watched as she entered the tent.

"She's one of the lads. One of the lads. Molly Dawsey. She's one of the lads!"

"Thanks you massive cockwombles!"

Charles laughed.

Fuck! He was in trouble.