Author's Note: Well, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think ;-)

Chapter Three: Avoid Eye Contact

After my briefing with Captain Kingston, I walked back to the front. By this time, the sun was only getting hotter and hotter, and I was still dressed in full battle gear; the sweat dripped down my face and slid down my back. Jesus, I really wanted a shower…and I'd only been here for two hours.

Once I got within eyesight of the frontlines, Private Beesner approached. He was perspiring and red-faced, and I didn't even want to know what I'd look like once I took my helmet off.

"Ready to meet first platoon, Lieutenant?" Beesner asked.

I unhooked my canteen from my web belt and took a long gulp before answering. "Bee, did they make you my aide?"

The private turned even redder, and this time it wasn't the sun or the heat. "Yes, ma'am. Just till you get settled, the captain said."

I was amused. "Till I get settled, huh?"

"Not my words…"

"Don't worry about it. Where can I dump my gear? I'm sweating out of pores I didn't even know I had."

"The platoon tent is on your right, El-Tee. It's hard to see because of the camo, but I can take you to it."

The private led me several yards out until he opened a flap in what seemed to be the middle of the air. Unlike the company CP, the tents around the front were rendered very nearly invisible for obvious reasons. Once inside, I immediately began taking off some of my heavier and hotter equipment. That meant my battledress jacket, my pack, my helmet, my gloves, my armor, and some other stuff that would probably save my life in a firefight but not in 150-degree heat. By the time I was finished, all I was wearing was my T-shirt, battledress trousers, combat boots, dogtags, and a pair of sunglasses. I had my rifle slung diagonally across my back, rifle ammo and energy bars stashed in my pockets, and web belt with grenades, pistol ammo, and canteen on my waist. Strapped to my right hip was my silenced pistol, and while one of my combat knives was sheathed between my shoulder blades under my shirt, the other was strapped above my left boot. And yet with all that remained on me, I was significantly lighter and cooler with the rest off my body.

While I was dumping my equipment and stripping off layers of garments, I could see Private Beesner getting so red he was almost turning purple. I frowned; it wasn't going to do if Beesner was so obviously attracted to his new lieutenant. He'd only get ridiculed and it would undermine my own authority if the platoon thought anything was going on. Rumors in the Corps spread faster than wildfires in a dry, dead forest.

When I was done getting the stuff off I needed to, I let Beesner follow me out of the tent. I had to talk to him now before we went back to the others, and before things got worse. I stopped him once he came out and looked at him.

"Ma'am?" he croaked. I placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Beesner, I'm going to be blunt. You need to stop this now, and I'll give you two very good reasons among many."

The private had a horrified look on his face. "Wh-what do you mean, Lieutenant?"

"You know what I'm talking about. First reason is this: I am too old for you, kid. And secondly, I'm married. So don't be obvious or you and I will both catch hell for something that is not even happening. Clear?"

"Y-yes, ma'am," Beesner replied.

"All right." With that settled, I looked down at my shirt; the lower half of the right side was soaked in blood. "Now, before we get to the rest of the platoon, let me get this taken care of." I grinned at Beesner. "Wouldn't want to scare 'em, would I?"

"No, ma'am," the private said, smiling back nervously. He looked past me to where there were, no doubt, a few more tents hidden in the hot desert. "Medic should be this way. The real big medical tent is behind the company CP, but Doc'll know if that's where you need to go."

I followed Private Beesner to a small tent, camouflaged in a similar fashion to the slightly larger one we'd just vacated. Beesner pulled the flap open again and stepped inside ahead of me.

"Hey, Doc, got a minute?" the private asked.

The medic, who was rather handsome and looked to be only a couple of years older than me, glanced up at us; he had a nice face with cropped black hair, blue eyes, and a bit of a stubble on his chin from being in a war zone too long without a shave. At first he didn't see my wound, because he furrowed his black brows into a frown. "Who're you? And what's wrong with you?"

"This is first platoon's new El-Tee, Doc. And she took some shrapnel to her side a couple hours ago," Beesner explained. I turned so the medic could see the blood stained shirt.

Realizing his error at once, the medic's face went into a panicked expression. "Geez, Lieutenant…I'm really sorry, ma'am. I didn't know…and you just went around like normal with that much blood…?"

"Maybe not normal; it's been hurting like hell. But I wanted to make sure everything else was taken care of first," I answered.

The medic's face was now pale; he swallowed audibly. "Well, ma'am, all due respect, but I think next time bleeding shrapnel wounds should be a top priority of yours…You must've just come back from the CP, right? Didn't Kingston say anything to you?"

"I still had all my gear on then, armor and all. Plus my wound stopped bleeding over an hour ago. I thought it was fine," I said.

The medic gestured for me to come closer as he pulled on a pair of medical exam gloves. "Let's have a look, then."

I sat down on a cot in front of the medic, aware of Beesner standing behind me at the tent's entrance. I was starting to get uncomfortable even with my back turned to him; I could still feel his eyes on me.

"I'm going to check your vital signs first, ma'am, then check out your wound. I can already see…something protruding from your side there…" He got up from his chair and grabbed a stethoscope. He smiled at me. "Nothing beats good ol' auscultation."

I smiled back. Once you got past his…aggressive greeting, the medic had a friendly manner and easy grin. He wasn't so bad.

After listening to my upper chest, back, and sides, he put the stethoscope around his neck. He then produced his datapad from his pocket and entered in his findings. "Your respirations are fine, considering the wound," he said, still looking at his datapad. "The injured side seems to cause a bit of labored breathing, however. Pulse is a bit rapid, but that's expected; your blood pressure is low. Pulse oximetry 94 percent, also just below normal, yet not worrisome." I blinked; I hadn't realized that he'd found all of the six main vital signs simply by using his stethoscope. "And your temperature's fine, too," the medic continued. He glanced at me with a grin. "No hyperthermia yet, Lieutenant."

"Good to know," I said.

"Ok, ma'am," the medic said once he'd finished his initial assessment. "I'm a bit worried about your BP, but I believe that once we get your wound patched up, it'll fix itself." He slipped his datapad back into his pocket. "I'm going to have to ask you to lift your shirt up for me, ma'am." Even as he said it, the medic briefly glanced at Private Beesner; that meant it was obvious to the doc as well.

I turned around and looked at the private. "Wait for me outside, Beesner. Shouldn't be long."

I seriously thought no one could get redder than Private Beesner did at that moment. Jesus, I thought, mentally shaking my head. The medic waited politely for Beesner to leave the tent before continuing his examination.

"So I see you have an admirer," he commented as he helped me lift the shirt above my right shoulder.

I snorted. "Yeah. I keep telling him he's only going to cause both of us grief, but apparently he can't control himself. Isn't the Marine Corps supposed to teach discipline?"

"Yes, ma'am." He looked up at me with a curious expression on his face. "Though sometimes some things can't be helped."

I tried hard not to laugh; this was getting ridiculous. "So," I said, trying to lighten things up a bit. The tension in the tent was palpable. "Am I dead yet?"

The medic chuckled. "No, not by a long shot. The shrapnel appears to have lodged itself between your armor plates and grazed a couple of ribs, but nothing too serious. Want to tell me how this happened?"

I explained the attack on the Warthog as Beesner, Dandh, and I rode back to the frontlines from the hospital shuttle landing site. The medic found the story amusing.

"So you came planetside from the hospital only to look for a ticket back?" he asked.

"I wasn't looking to go back, I was just shielding Corporal Dandh."

"That's very noble of you, El-Tee." The medic was cleaning and disinfecting my wound now, preparing to take the piece of shrapnel out. "Now, tell me, ma'am, could you describe and rate your pain for me?"

I'd been through this drill at the hospital, so I knew exactly what he meant. "Pain feels like a burning and tearing sensation, and it's about a seven out of ten."

The medic gave me a chastising look. "And you didn't think this was that bad?" When I didn't answer, the medic threw away the cloth he'd used to sterilize my wound, now bloodied. "I'm going to take the shrapnel out now, ma'am. I'm going to need you to hold still, 'cause this'll hurt."

I winced and bit my lower lip as the medic removed the small piece of shrapnel from my side. I flinched when the piece of metal came out, and the medic looked at me.

"You all right?"

I shut my eyes hard and clenched my fists. "Christ, that hurt. I think I'm ok, though."

The medic gave me a small smile. "You're brave, that's for sure." He handed me the bit of the Ghost I'd blown up that had eventually embedded itself in my ribs. "'Least you have a souvenir now. All right. I'm going to put biofoam in the wound and bandage it up now. Should be fine after that, good as new."

The biofoam insertion and bandaging didn't take long; in no time, I was good to go again.

"All done, Lieutenant," the medic said when he was done. He checked my blood pressure a second time and found it normal. "Try not to get hurt again, huh?" he said, grinning.

"Not planning to," I assured him with a laugh.

As he stood and took his gloves off, he flashed a different kind of smile at me. "I'm Petty Officer Second Class Michael Reynolds, by the way."

"Lieutenant Natalie Cooper, Doc. And thanks for the fix."

PO2 Reynolds winked at me. "Anytime, El-Tee."

I walked out of the medic's tent somewhat healed, but definitely confused.