I still do not own the 28 days/weeks series, but I retain al rights to my OC Ccassandra.

"Sir" I can almost hear the salute accompanying that abrupt and unwelcome word. I'm pretty sure I told that annoying private to shut up. Or at least I know I thought about it.

The voice that responds is new and has a bit of a chuckle in it. "At ease kid. I'm off duty." It sounds just a little familiar too, but isn't important enough for me to care out it beyond my headache. "So what do we got?"

That is annoying, because I know that question is about me, and it means two things. First, whoever this jerk is thinks its okay to talk about me like I'm not laying right here on this uncomfortable bench, behind these annoying unbreakable bars, and cut off from my precious liquor. And of course, second, since he is asking questions about me he isn't likely to just go away.

"A very belligerent Mexican." I mutter under my breath, half surprised when the first syllable of a response from the private cuts itself off at the sound of my voice. My hearing must be a little off from the alcohol in my veins. I didn't think I had spoken that loud, not that I care all that much.

There's a pause, but then my hope is crushed when whoever this new man in the room is lets out a laugh. "Mexican huh, well I can work with that, so Miss Mexico. What are you in for hmm?" Oh bloody hell, why can't he just get the hint and piss off?

Whoever this guy is he seems to ranks higher than the young man guarding me, so its very unlikely he will be told to leave. He also doesn't seem to have any inclination to leave on his own. So with those two facts clear in my far too sober mind, I finally decide to give in and roll over.

I had been very content to hide my face in the corner and wait for the morning to come, but apparently I have somehow become this evenings entertainment instead. That was not what I wanted when I started drinking this evening.

Turning my body to its other side I push up off the bench into a seated position, my legs kicking out over the edge and resting in an unladylike manner, because I just don't care, and my back leaning against the solid brick of the wall behind me is I settle into a reclining sort of lounge positon.

The man who has so far only bothered my ears now is visible to my eyes. He's got the typical military style to his brown hair on a head with strong features like a broad nose and a squared chin. He has a mild tan complexion for a caucasian, and framing the bridge of his nose are a set of smirking hazel eyes to match the smirking stance of his mouth is he observes me studying him.

"Look, whatever rank you are..." I pause to locate the nametag I know must be there somewhere. "...Doyle." His smirk only grows at my odd way of addressing him, which unfortunately makes it less likely I'll be able to get rid of him with this mini speech I'm about to deliver.

"I was having a bad day before a bunch of you took my booze and fed me enough charcoal to make me sick. So unless you're here to give me something to drink, I'd rather get to know the bench some more if you don't mind."

I was half expecting that my irritation wouldn't succeed in driving him off, but despite that the reaction he gives me is actually a surprise. He lets out a small snort and produces the shape of a small green tin can from one of his vest pockets, the object enveloped in his hand and held out toward me.

I blinked a grand total of five times, just looking at the small but obviously liquid container. Is this man actually giving me a beer? is it even a beer? I can't quite tell just because his hand is covering enough of it that I cant make out any labels or logo's. "Want me to open it for you too." He jokes when my hesitation extends to much for him.

That earns him something of a glare, but its mixed with a smirk. He's playing with me. I find that oddly entertaining. He's the first one since I was rescued to actually do that.

Sure there were some civilians at the refugee camp that would try approach me because they thought I was pretty, but they abandoned that pursuit quickly due to my personality and the fact that there were women just is attractive and more willing for them to go after.

There was also the occasional soldier who was a little too eager to be helpful, but those stopped to after I gained a reputation of reporting them for sexual harassment.

Not this one though. He isn't at all put off by my 'warm and fuzzy' exterior, in fact I'd say he's been enjoying himself so far.

I take the can.

I can tell she is annoyed by my presence, which I understand. After all they treated her with activated charcoal. It may have cleared her stomach of whatever she drank and sobered her up, but I imagine the vomiting left her with a sore stomach and a headache. I'd be annoyed after that too.

But I can tell she finds this amusing and maybe a bit interesting is well by the sarcastic smirk tugging just a little bit at the edge of her lips.

With the can in her hand she quickly spins it around to identify what exactly I offered her. A few things flash through her eyes in the second that follows. Confusion, understanding, disappointment and amusement. Than in the second after that she holds it out to me again, handing the ginger ale back. "I'd rather have tequila."

She tosses the can to me, which I catch easily enough, mildly impressed that she got it to clear the bars without any problem. But then it is her turn to switch expressions because of what I do.

With the can of pop now back in my hand I let out another chuckle before standing up to go to the desk.

I don't even bother asking the private to get them for me, if I did that it would run the joke. Instead I just reach in the draw and pull out a roll of tape and a black marker. The makeover is finished quickly enough, is well is a little extra.

When I turn back to her I have a can of 'tequila' in one hand, and a plastic bottle of painkillers labeled 'taco bell' in the other.

"Your very persistent." Is the reply she gives me after she lets out a tiny laugh. My only answer to that is "Yes ma'am I am."

So there is another chapter to the story, and the wish of seeing how she reacts to Doyle answered, at least a little. Was it good? Is that about what you wanted? PLease leave a review to let me know that you think.