A.N. :D I'm glad you guys seem to want more, so this chapter has a little bit more meat to it, hope you enjoy it lots and please drop a review before you leave! Makes my day :)

Disclaimer: may have forgotten this last time but if some of you thought that maybe I did own then, sorry. I don't or else gen2 cast would not be leaving!


A brief glossary of terms for all you non-Army cadet people ;D (these are the Australian cadet terms so sorry for not keeping it true to English and all but I don't any of those!)

Corporal: a rank. Higher than Lance Corporal or cadet.

Hootchie: a largish piece of waterproof plastic that you tie between two trees and peg to the ground. Ends up (hopefully) looking a little like a tent.

Mog: the veichle used to cart cadets from one place to another. If you're lucky you get to go in one of these, if not then it's into the minibus for you.

Officer: adults that try to control all us cadets...emphesis on the "try to"

Picket: a truly horrible thing were someone wakes you at a certain time of the night and you trudge out into the freezing cold and watch a radio (usually with someone else) for an hour while keeping an eye out for any "enemy action"

Scrim: fabric with lots of holes in it. Can be used as a skarf for warmth or to keep out dust. Is very effective for both :)

Stand to: when enemy action is sighted then everyone sprints out into something that resembles a circle and you keep an eye out for anything in front of you. It's good fun for the first few minutes but then it gets boring, hot/cold depending on the time and incredibly hard to stay awake.

Webbing: a series of pouches attached to a belt with straps to go over your shoulders so you don't die from carrying the weight. You carry stuff like small amounts of food, jumper, notebook and any other junk you can fit in there.

Hope that helps! Happy reading :)


"Campbell!"

"Sir!" I called out in my half-asleep daze, my body still not coping with the early wake-up calls they gave us and my mind focussed on something else entirely. Red hair, tied in a messy bun with bright tendrils falling out and hanging against pale skin. That's what had kept me up until obscene hours of the night and awake all through my picket which, during the long and freezing cold hour of watching the silent radio may have been enjoyable but it was morning now and my obsession was starting to get a little too much. I tried to tell myself that it was just because her hair was such a vibrant colour compared to the muted green tones that we were surrounded by but when she turned around to talk to the guy behind her, her wide brown eyes catching mine and holding them for just a second I knew that I was kidding myself.

"Fitch!"

"Sir!" Red shouted back, her voice sounding as sleepy as mine and I breathed in sharply, the cool morning air hitting the back of my throat uncomfortably.

At least you know her name now, my head told me in a traitorous voice as the rest of me yelled that I didn't care.

Fitch. It suited her I thought. Short, fiery. Okay so I didn't even know if she was fiery, I hadn't exactly had a conversation with her but someone with hair like that had to have some kind of spark right?

We went about our day after that and thoughts of her slowly faded as I hauled sandbag after sandbag across the red dusty ground, my scrim held in front of my face by various hair pins as more and more of the ground got brushed up into the air. I didn't mind the hard work though and I wasn't complaining like most of the others in my section, in fact I rather enjoyed it. If nothing else it kept the flashes of red and brown to the back of my mind. I grimaced once more as I lifted the last sandbag into its place on the wall, wiping the sweat off my forehead and thinking that it would all be okay because whatever I was thinking or feeling for the red-head, Fitch, would surely go away once I left this camp.

We were finally packed in the Mog, our webbing in a pile at our feet and by then I had well and truly convinced myself that whatever my thoughts were towards Fitch were silly. Tonight we were having showers as a platoon so I told myself that I would have a proper look at her, no bush glasses, and then I would see that a) there were no weird thoughts or feelings towards her and b) that she wasn't 'cute' or 'hot' or any describing words like that. I would look at her and see only slightly colourful hair which, anywhere else wouldn't even stand out. I had finally appeased my mind when I overheard the guys opposite me talking. Eavesdropping is a bad way of putting it; if they were keen to have a perve about someone in front of me then I had every right to listen, yes? The thing I was having trouble with though, was not the morals of my listening in but that as soon as I had heard Fitch it was like I couldn't help but listen.

"Yeah man, totally hot. Wouldn't mind a bit of that I'm telling you," one guy said, his voice filling the vehicle and getting deep into my head. It's not like I could claim any ownership on her; she wasn't my friend, I hadn't even talked to her but for some reason I was overcome by an intense anger at the guy being so crude.

"Excuse me?" I said, less asking more accusatory. "Some of us don't want to hear about who you want to bang alright?"

He leered at me and I shivered imagining the thoughts that were going through his head. I had a good body but under these fatigues you would never know and so the thought of tossers like these mentally undressing me always weirded me out.

"Whatever babe, bet you just want to join in yeah," he added, his tongue darting out in what I presume was meant to be an inviting way but I couldn't help the snort. Being on a camp that was 80% males really made you lose your manners. It was that snort though that alerted the officer at the other end to us and we sat silently under his scrutiny, not willing to get into trouble too early on the camp but the silence provided a blank canvas for my thoughts. Thoughts that were not far from what the wanker across from me had suggested. Thoughts about Fitch and what might be under the baggy uniform. Thoughts about what might happen if we had to share a hootchie, what might happen to keep us warm during the freezing nights.

When my brain finally caught up to my dirty thoughts it chased them out straight away. What the hell! It was being stuck out in the middle of nowhere that must be doing it, I thought. Being stuck out here with 99% of the guys too ugly to go near with a 10foot pole. That's all that it was. Nothing more.


"Grab your shower stuff!" my corporal yells at me as he runs in the direction of the male lines. "We've got 30 seconds." That was the way cadets ran. We did a whole lot of waiting then when we had to do something it was as fast as possible.

I ran up to my single hootchie; I had been lucky this time and got to sleep by myself instead of with some gossipy girl who I didn't know and didn't want to. I stuffed clean undies into my bag and ran back down to where everyone was starting to form up.

But something caught my eye.

It shined so brightly as the sun caught fire to it and I had thought before that her hair couldn't get more red but here it was now glowing and I paused in my mad dash, almost forgetting to breathe. She was gorgeous.

No.

I snapped myself out of those dangerous thoughts and kept on going; my slightly slower pace because I was tired after a full day not because I wanted to reach everyone at the same time she did. Not because I wanted to stand next to her.

"Single file into the buses!" Boy there was a lot of shouting that went on here. It seemed like everybody had to shout or else things just wouldn't get done. "File in from front to back, do not hold up the line so you can sit next to your friends!"

Well at least I would be sitting near the red-head who was now plodding along behind me, her shower bag occasionally hitting the backs of my legs. Anyone else I probably would have snapped at but I just couldn't bring myself to yell at Fitch. I would probably cut out halfway as well and there was no way I would be embarrassing myself like that.

"Hi," a husky voice said from beside me. Like really husky. "My name's Fitch, I don't think I've talked to you before."

It was her, Fitch, the oblivious to my thoughts red-head. And she was talking to me. I swallowed and, determined to keep my usual hostile outer shell, replied.

"Campbell, and no, we haven't."

Whoops. Bitch mode much. It wasn't what I wanted to say but I was shy, I just hated to admit it so instead of acting shy around new people I went into Queen Bitch mode. It tended to work in keeping away creepy cadet guys who wanted to do gross things with you but here, where I actually wanted to talk to her, it just made me mad at myself.

"But I've seen you around," I added, turning around to face the slightly nervous looking girl. Hmm maybe I had scared her with my bitch act. In any case she seemed to bounce back quickly and she looked up at me with a cheeky grin that seemed to make her face as bright as her hair. I liked it when she smiled like that and I found my face splitting into a rarely used smile to match.

"Everyone is saying your first name is Naomi, is that true?" she asked and I couldn't help it when my smile widened as she said my name. It sounded so nice coming out of her lips. Her lips.

Focus.

"Yes, unfortunately," I replied dryly but I kept my eyes on hers and my smile open so she knew I wasn't being a bitch again. "And what might your name be Ms. Fitch?" I was digging. I'll admit it but I couldn't think of a name that would suit her properly, a name that would be able to encompass everything she was and everything she made me feel. Christ, look at how I was thinking and after barely half a minute of conversation between us too. This was getting sad.

She looked down for a second then back up at me through her eyelashes. How come I had never noticed them before? They were so long and dark and without any make-up at all. I knew mine must be near nonexistent without their usual coating of mascara because while my hair was a bleached blonde the colour wasn't far off my natural one. But back to the topic at hand, her big eyes looked at me through those dark eyelashes and I yelled internally at my stomach which was doing some weird shit without my permission.

"Emily. Emily Fitch."


A.N. Next chapter we should start to see some real stuff happening :) Also, if there's anything you want to know about cadets or whatever, chuck it in a review and I can make it part of the story. Informative and entertaining ;D

Also it seems most of you guys are thinking what I'm thinking...Emily Fitch in army uniform...;D

Jules