"Come on, Newkirk!"

Baker shoved his load of rocks to the side and turned. Trenton and Simmons glared at Newkirk as the Englishman struggled with a cart of rocks. Baker walked over to Newkirk. "Are you all right?" he murmured.

"Just a touch of stomach flu." Newkirk shivered, breath rasping in his lungs. Baker frowned. This road clearing detail could break backs and Newkirk seemed close to passing out. None of Hogan's command crew was on this detail save Newkirk and he'd been a last minute change from the motor pool to this. Baker knew Hogan and his men had been out the night before and Baker doubted if Hogan even knew about the change yet. Sweat dripped down Newkirk's face yet he shivered again.

"Let me help." Baker grabbed the handle next to Newkirk and grunted as he pulled. Together they hauled the rock off the road. "Schultz!"

"What is it, Sargent?" Schultz waddled towards them.

"Newkirk's ill. Send him back."

"I can not do that, Sargent Baker. The Kommandant has demanded this road be cleared today."

"He's sick!"

"I'll be all right." Newkirk straightened and dragged the cart back to the rocks Trenton and Simmons stood beside. Baker scowled warningly at the camp troublemakers and walked to his shovel. The day ground on until at lunch when Newkirk sat beside the cart and refused to eat.

"You need to pick up the pace," Simmons snapped.

"Sod off, Simmons."

"Hogan's not here to protect you, limey," Trenton snarled. Newkirk glared at him.

Well aware that every other prisoner on the detail was American save Newkirk, Baker stood next to him. "Leave him alone," he warned.

"Stay out of it, Baker," Simmons warned.

Newkirk stood up. "Think you're man enough, Simmons?"

The punch crunched against Newkirk's cheek and he fell back a few paces. He paused a heartbeat and then lunged at Simmons. "Nein! Stop this immediately!" Schultz yelled. The two clinched in a flurry of blows. Trenton jumped in. Swearing, Baker grabbed Newkirk's collar and pulled him back. His eyes widened at the flow of blood from Newkirk's mouth and nose and Simmons doubled over.

Newkirk shuddered and rubbed his face, smearing blood. A deep cut over his brow spilled blood into and along his eye and his cheek already puffed. "You will see the Kommandant for this!" Schultz grabbed Newkirk and Simmons and shoved them forward. "You, too, Baker, Trenton. Corporal Meuller, watch the prisoners!"

In the truck, Baker pressed a scrap of cloth against Newkirk's forehead. "Thanks." Newkirk touched his cheek.

"So you're not so pretty," Simmons sneered. Baker grabbed Newkirk as the Brit stood in the moving truck.

"Sit down, Newkirk."

The truck rumbled through the camp gates. Schultz came around to the back of the truck. "Come now," he ordered. "All of you."

The prisoners came out. Schultz grabbed Newkirk's shoulder and Simmons' arm and yanked them towards the Kommandant's office. "You just wait," he threatened. "The Kommandant will be very angry. You will have to finish the road then spend time in the cooler! Baker and Trenton, follow us. Fighting among yourselves--you are supposed to be Allies!"

"Just like the Russians were yours," Newkirk reminded.

Schultz wagged his finger. "None of your funny stuff, Englander."

In the Kommandant's office, Klink glared at Simmons and Newkirk. "Schultz, get Hogan! I have had it with the prisoners fighting. Simmons, you seem to be involved more than most. And Newkirk!" He snorted. "You are always up to something."

"I resent that, Kommandant." Newkirk looked innocently at Klink.

Hogan strolled in. "Now what, Kommandant? I do have other things to do. Escapes to plan...why are my men here?"

He inhaled sharply. "Newkirk, what hit you?"

"Simmons did, Colonel Hogan," Schultz said. "He started it."

"Hey!" Simmons protested. "He asked for it!"

"Let me get Wilson, Kommandant," Hogan requested.

"Yes, yes."

Hogan jerked his head and Baker disappeared. He returned with Wilson and Wilson immediately winced. He glanced at Simmons' swelling lip and walked to Newkirk. "You are a mess."

He sat Newkirk down and began cleaning the cuts. "What do you suggest, Colonel Hogan?" Klink asked.

"I just want to know what happened. Newkirk was in the motor pool."

"He was pulled for road detail," Klink said.

"The rock detail? I protest, Kommandant! My men are not slave labor!"

"I'm giving them white bread and extra lights. Hogan, I want you to control your men. Simmons, back to the road detail. Newkirk, go back to the barracks. Dismissed!"

Hogan stepped over to Newkirk and Wilson looked up at him. "He'll be fine," Wilson said.

"Baker, with me." Hogan said.

"I need him back on the road detail."

"Trenton and Simmons are going back. Come on, Kommandant."

"All right. Go!"

Hogan glanced at Baker. "What happened?"

"Simmons and Trenton were riding Newkirk hard. They argued and Simmons tossed a punch."

"What were they arguing about?"

"Simmons was complaining Newkirk was too slow. Newkirk was struggling, told me he was sick. But he kept working. Trenton pulled out the anti British line and that's when Simmons threw the punch." Baker exhaled. "Colonel, Newkirk's a loudmouth, a hothead, but he didn't start anything."

"Thanks, Baker." Hogan zipped his coat. "Go relax."

"Thanks, Colonel."

Hogan stalked back into the barracks, empty except for Wilson and Newkirk. Wilson watched over Newkirk who pressed an icepack on his cheek. "Couldn't just walk away, could you?" he asked.

"What?" Newkirk looked at him. "Walk away? From Simmons? Blimey, gov, you've gone round the bend."

"Did you even think that Simmons outweighs you by at least forty pounds and is at least four inches taller?"

"Only means he falls harder."

"And that you're a--a--"

"Female," Wilson supplied.

"Baker said you were sick."

"Ate some oatmeal from the kantine."

Hogan nodded. "Get some rest."

"You're an idiot, Newkirk," Wilson said. "And if the Colonel won't tell you, I will. Stop taking on people who outweigh you when you're sick. And when you're a woman."

Newkirk glowered at the medic. "I'm still me."

"But your body says you're Petra."

Newkirk bristled and Hogan held up a hand. "Enough," he said. "Newkirk, rest. Wilson, watch him."

When Carter saw Newkirk's bruised face, he immediately paled. "Who?" he demanded.

"I just got in a bit of a scrap, Andrew."

"With who?" Carter grabbed Newkirk's shoulders. The astonished Brit stared at him.

"Just Simmons and me. It's all right."

"It's not all right!" Carter let go of Newkirk and yanked on his jacket. "You don't hit ---people like that. It's not right!"

"Easy, mate, settle down. I took care of it."

"What is going on?" LeBeau and Kinch stepped into the barracks. "Sacred bleu! Who hit you, Newkirk?" LeBeau's dark eyes blazed.

"It's just a scratch," Newkirk protested.

"Looks like more than a scratch." Kinch gently turned Newkirk's face to the light. "Is your cheekbone broke?!"

"Just a bit of swelling and a few cuts. Give it a day or two and I'll be right as rain." Newkirk shifted uncomfortably.

"Does mon colonel know about this?"

"Yes. I took care of it. Little scuffle, few fists. You should see the other guy."

"Who was?" Kinch's mouth narrowed.

"Simmons," Carter said.

"You took on Simmons?" Kinch demanded. "Newkirk, he's bigger and heavier than me!"

"And? He threw the first punch." Newkirk looked at his friends. "Come on, mates, it's not so bad."

Carter frowned. "Where are you going?" Newkirk asked as Carter turned.

"I have to talk to Simmons!"

"'Old on, Andrew! 'E'll kill you!"

"Why's it all right for you to fight and not me?"

"Because I know 'ow to fight! You don't scrap like me."

"It's not hard." Carter glared at his friend.

"Enough, all of you." Hogan came into the barracks. "My office."

The four followed their CO. Hogan gestured and LeBeau closed the door. "I talked to Baker. Everyone, keep away from Simmons. He's being reassigned to Barracks Nine. I've talked to him."

"He's an idiot," LeBeau muttered.

"He hit a woman!" Carter blurted.

"He doesn't know Newkirk is a woman. And Newkirk did strike back." Hogan eyed his thief and Newkirk grinned. "Kinch, contact London tonight. Ask them about our female bomber crew and tell them we need our supplies." Kinch nodded. "Newkirk, open Klink's safe tomorrow night. We need to check out his recent map delivery. Carter, please make up some bombs. There's a lot of recent traffic and some of the guards were chatting about a new factory."

"You bet!"

"LeBeau, when Kinch gets the supply drop date, tell me. Also, work on Schultz some. See if he knows anything."

"Oui, mon Colonel."

"Newkirk, chat up the guards while you're swindling their money. Find out if there is a new factory."

"No problem, gov."

Hogan rubbed his head. "That's it. Newkirk, wait a minute."

Newkirk nodded. The others left and Hogan looked directly at Newkirk. "I know you're not really a woman. I also promised myself I would treat you the same as always. When it comes to fighting, I can't. The others can't either. You're in a female body. I have to ask you to control your temper."

"Simmons hit me first!"

"I know. I'm asking you to walk away. Think about it. What would you do if your sister came home looking like you do now?" He handed Newkirk a shaving mirror.

"I'm not a woman," Newkirk snarled.

"What would you do?"

"Mavis and Elizabeth can take care of themselves." Newkirk looked in the mirror. His shoulders sagged. "But I understand, gov. I'd kill any bloke that hurt them." He touched his swollen cheek. "All right. I'll try not to get in any more physical scuffles. You keep calling me one of the men."

"Deal."

Newkirk stretched, winced. "Ruddy rocks," he muttered.

"Should have stayed in the motor pool."

"Schiller dragged me off." Newkirk grinned lopsidely. "At least I don't need makeup with this."

Hogan nodded. He touched the cut above Newkirk's brow and Newkirk quivered. "Does this need stitches?"

"It's fine, gov. I've 'ad worse."

"You look like hell."

"It'll heal." Hogan nodded and sat down. Newkirk grinned. "Go get something to eat."

Newkirk left and Hogan ran his hands through his hair.

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