A/N This chapter is part of the FF Our Girl story That's an Order (chapter 9). This chapter is over here because the characters have got a bit naughty recently and it had to be rated for adult content! If you are looking for chapters 1-8, they are on the main page of the Our Girl FF site. Sorry for any confusion, I hope you enjoy it.

"So Bas, when did they let you out of the gym? You look like you've been locked up there for the last few years."

Bas squinted at Fingers in the late afternoon sun. "Nah, I run a boot camp in London, Fingers, mate. I get to spend a lot of time demonstrating press ups to wealthy women."

"Loaded are they? Fit as well?" Dangles lay back in the sand and took a swallow from his can of lager.

"They can't be fit," said Molly flexing her aching shoulders. "That's what they've come to old Bas for."

"Dangles, lots of them get very fit, and some of them are up for it too?"

"Up for it?" Dangles sat up. "Whoa… Are you getting some cougar action Bas?"

"Too fucking right I am. I run a twelve-week course. That's a new group every 12 weeks and…" he puffed out his chest in evident pride. "They love their teacher Bas to whip them up into shape."

"Following in Kinder's cougar footsteps are you Baz?"

Kinders groaned: "All right boys, I hold my hands up. But what can I say? She's a great lady."

"Ha ha!" shouted Dangleberries joyfully. "Watch our man squirm. You keep an eye out for that shotgun, Kinders, my mate."

"What?" Molly looked confused: "I thought you'd just had a baby Kinders?"

"He has," said Dangles. "With Fingers' older sister! They met at the last two section reunion. And Fingers is mad as hell cos they ain't got hitched yet."

Fingers looked mournfully into his can: "He pissed in my coco pops."

Kinders turned to the Bossman sitting next to him and said in an undertone: "You see Boss, you're not the only one who screwed up."

Kinders raised his voice to address everyone: "Listen fellers, I keep getting down on my knees for her, but so far she's turned me down. There's nothing I want more than to make an honest woman out of her. One of these days she'll say yes."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," said Fingers in a playfully menacing tone to a chorus of jeers.

Charles smiled. There were many things around here, that were not as they seemed. He was certainly learning a lot today. He glanced over at Molly, lying contended in the sand and felt the muscles in his stomach tighten. She was wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a bikini top and her windswept, chestnut hair was tangled over her shoulders. In Kabul, when he'd looked at her, he'd been consumed by anger. Now freed from that resentment he found her breathtaking. It was hard to look away.

He watched her stretching her arms and saw her wince. She looked tired. He wanted to go over, pull her to her feet and take her for a long walk along the beach, to talk it all over and make it right again, but he knew the last night of this reunion wasn't the moment to sort this problem out.

It was going to take time to resolve and knowing Molly, it wouldn't be easy. She would be defensive for starters. She would also be pissed off with Qaseem and Kinders for confiding in him, better Kinders wasn't anywhere nearby.

But most of all, he didn't want to give the boys any reason to suspect there was something going on between them. If they did they'd be unmerciful in taking the piss out of her. Being a female in the army was tough enough already. She'd worked hard to earn respect from these boys and she wouldn't appreciate jeopardising that now.

No, it was better to wait, visit her in Bristol and thrash it out quietly between the two of them. That's if she even wanted to sort it out. What if she didn't? He quashed away the nugget of doubt, refusing to think about that possibility and focused on the somewhat ribald conversation his former men were having.

Dangles was returning to the subject of Bas Vegas' new job: "Bas, I bet your boot camp cougars are old though."

"That's where you'd be wrong. Of course there's a few horn-meisters and some mingers, but most are bangable. One course we run is for new mums. They run around with their babies in prams. They're not old."

Molly groaned and lay down in the sand. Not this again. Just sometimes she'd like to tell them to remember she was also a girl and to shut their cakeholes.

"New mums, eh? I could fancy a bit of MILF action!"

"We're looking for another trainer, Dangles. Why don't you come and try it out with me?"

"Seriously Bas? Gotta be better than hanging around in Aston"

"Coo coo ca-choo Mrs Robinson" sang Nude Nut mischievously, "Dangles is off to London to become a cub"

Dangles tossed an empty can in Nude-Nut's direction: "Oi! Shut the hell up, Nude-Nut."

Two more cans sailed through the air back to Dangles.

Dodging the cans, Fingers turned to Brains. "What's it like working for UNICEF then?"

"Working for children seems like a really well, worthy thing to do, but it's more stressful than you'd think. There's a culture of working really hard in UNICEF. Don't work for them if you want a personal life."

"Do you see the Bossman a lot?"

"Charles? He travels a lot of the time, and when he's in Geneva, we all work really long hours. But the good thing is that everyone from the team is an expat, so we spend a lot of time outside work together too. Drinking, having fun, skiing in the winter. It's a really sociable job. I love that side of it."

"Boss not hitched again then?"

"Dunno where he would find the time for a relationship, to be honest."

"Weren't you with him in Kabul when he got locked in one of the ministries after an explosion?"

"Nah. That was Dawsey."

"Dawsey?" Fingers turned to look accusingly at her. "You never told me you were in Kabul. What, were you posted there?"

"I never tell anyone when I go to Kabul mate. I go to visit Bashera and her family has already tried to kidnap her twice, so I go in disguise."

"Disguise? What, as the back end of a pantomime horse?"

There was a general snort of laughter as they tried to imagine her in that position.

"Nah, Mansfield. "Don't be funny. I wear a niqab or a burka, and no one, not even you Fingers, would be able to suss me out."

"What, dressed as an Afghan laydee? You're a sly one, Dawsey," admired Fingers. "But you'd have no chance against me. I'm trained to see through a Burka disguise."

"I bet you didn't pull a fast one on the Bossman, Molly?"

"Actually, she did pull the wool over my eyes, Dangles, I'm ashamed to say. It was only when the bomb went off that she came clean."

Was there something like admiration in Charles' eyes as he winked at Molly?

"Who was guarding you Boss?"

"That's an interesting question, Fingers. I never did get to find out because as soon as the bomb exploded, he disappeared."

"Fuck me, what are they playing at in Kabul? Next time, you, Molly or any of you come my way, give me a call. I'll sort you out with a top notch security team."

"That's a very interesting offer, Fingers." I'm going back in November. Let's discuss it."

"Uh, come again, Molly. You were dressed in a burka in Kabul, with the Bossman and a bomb went off," Bas Vegas was working up a mock outrage. "What the fuck? You never told us anything."

"There's nothing to tell, Bas. We were in a ministry when a bomb went off in the street outside. We waited out in a guardroom, until they got us out. I didn't even see the explosion."

She took a deep breath, remembering the tension, anger, and passion that exploded between her and the Bossman. "It was quite boring really."

She sneaked a glance at Charles. He was looking disbelievingly at her, his eyebrows raised, a slight curve of amusement playing about his mouth at her description of their tense time together in Kabul as 'boring'. She blushed slightly and then shrugged her shoulders.

"That's not what I heard," said Brains. "Wasn't there an escape with fighting cocks in a rickshaw?"

"Ay ay lads! Cocks in a rickshaw? What have you two been up to! C'mon, fess up to Uncle Dangles."

Molly squirmed. Everyone turned to the Bossman who smiled and gestured to Dawes: "I was concealed in the back of the rickshaw. It was Dawes in disguise who was the heroic bird handler. She'd be much better at explaining."

"Cock handler?"

"No Dangles. Fighting cocks, birds, hens. You know."

"No Molly, I don't. In fact I don't know any of it, because you haven't told me. So what's all this about an escape in a rickshaw?"

"Well, yeah, the escape… that bit was exciting, although they don't go fast, those little things. I dunno, seems a long time ago now. Anyway, isn't it time we got a move on? She looked over at Brains' watch. It's six already. Haven't we booked a table somewhere tonight?

She held her breath. There were a general murmur of agreement and Kinders stood up and shook the sand out of his sweatshirt.

Bas Vegas turned to Fingers: "Oi can I come and have a shower in your room mate?

"Great! I knew it! As soon as I heard you three twats were staying in tents, I knew you'd be up mewling at my door for a clean up."

Bas did an exaggerated wriggle. "Come on Fingers, feels like I've got two days worth of sand up my arse."

Fingers laughed as he got up. "Charming! Well, you better come on up then, can't have you minging in Newport tomorrow."

Dangleberries whooped: "Now, that's a plan, Bas. Can I get behind you in the queue?"

"As long as you're not behind me in the shower, you perv!"

"Oi Bas, none of that abuse here, thanks," said Kinders giving Bas a tough look.

"Sorry, Kinders." Bas Vegas spoke in a low tone.

"Don't apologise to me mate." Kinders glared at Bas. There was a awkward silence as he turned to watch Fingers trudging towards the cliff path.

Half an hour after leaving the beach, Molly knocked on the Bossman's door.

He opened it and there was a moment of embarrassment when she realised he was wearing nothing but a sarong wrapped low around his hips.

"Oh, Boss, I'm sorry to disturb you. I'll come back later".

"What is it Molly?"

"I've just come for my watch."

"Come in. I'll get it." He opened the door wider, and after a moment's hesitation she stepped inside.

He picked her watch off a table and came back to stand in front of her, the strap dangling between his long fingers.

She held out her hand: "Thank you for looking after it"

But instead of giving it back to her, he stood, quietly reading down at the inscription on the back.

"What is it?"

He looked back at her, opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, as if unsure of what to say.

"Boss?"

"Dawes, I don't know what I want from you, but I know what I need right now. I need to feel you in my arms."

She stared at him in shock: "But what about your... girl?" She blurted it out, wanting to kick herself even before she'd completed the sentence.

He frowned: "What girl?"

It was too late to take it back. She'd have to struggle on. "The one in the photo. With the star-shaped specs."

Comprehension dawned across his face: "She's not my girl. She works for me, she's a member of my team."

"And," he added as an afterthought. "She's having a fling with someone else in the office."

"Oh." Feeling stupid, she added: "That must be complicated."

She kept her eyes down on the floor, wishing she'd kept her bollocking mouth shut.

Finally she looked up. He was smiling at her.

A bolt of desire swelled in her belly. She tried to damp it down, tell herself that it would be madness, that she'd regret it, but her body seemed incapable of responding to anything but Charles standing in front of her. He opened his arms and she walked straight into them, like a sleepwalker embracing a long, lost dream.

The feel of his arms pressing her into his long, lean body set off a dizzying clutch of fireworks. She'd been craving the feel of him since he'd helped her on the rock this morning, even since he'd kissed her in Kabul, since forever, it seemed. For a moment she rested her head on his chest, drinking him all in, rejoicing in the remembered scent of his body, revelling in the smooth bareness of his taut chest, aware of his uneven breaths, the erratic beat of his heart, thumping wildly under her ear, that matched the unsteady, joyous lurches of her own heart.

She turned her face up to his and his mouth swooped down on hers. His lips were like a drug, as he reclaimed hers, igniting passion and tension between them while his hands ranged over her body, exploring, rediscovering, delighting in her petite loveliness.

With just a thin, cotton sarong slung round his hips, Molly suddenly became aware of the effect her closeness was having on his body. She teased him, brushing her hip against his hardening cock, causing him to groan with pleasure.

"Christ, don't tempt me like that." He exhaled heavily and his shoulders trembled. "For God's sake."

Charles was fast losing control. If he didn't move her away from him damn quick, he'd be lost before they'd even started. With determination he lifted her away from him and then turned round and leant against the door.

She was standing where he'd put her down, in the middle of the room, looking confused and caught in an overwhelming moment of desire. Her T Shirt had rucked up somehow under her arms, the outline of her nipples clearly visible underneath its thin cotton. Her French plait had loosened and was tangled, her lips were pinkish and swollen and her pupils enlarged with passion. There was no doubting he was having an equally devastating effect on her.

That knowledge gave him all the confidence he needed. Without taking his eyes off her he flicked the lock of the door behind him.

Then he smiled slowly: "Take off your clothes."

Her eyes widened.

"And Dawes..." He paused to allow his words to have full effect.

"That's an order."

A/N For obvious reasons, chapter 10 will also be over here on the smutty side...