4

"I'd say it sounds calm enough to get you back without anyone noticing." Miles sounded genuinely disappointed as he pulled himself to his feet. "You alright to walk?"

"Standing up'll be the tricky bit first," I pointed out. "I think the morphine's starting to wear off."

He slipped his arm around my waist, carefully avoiding the bandages. With my left arm slung over his shoulders, we managed to get me upright.

As I straightened myself up, pain shot all along my stomach. "Son of a-" I cursed and slumped further into Miles.

"Alright there," he steadied me. "We'll get you some morphine and I'll take a look at it." He began to lead me towards the ward, before he suddenly changed direction which sent a hiss of pain through my teeth.

"Sorry," he winced, "I can see Matron patrolling and I'd really rather not be killed by an English nurse, not when fritz are making such an effort. It just wouldn't seem fair on them." He threw me a passing grin. "I'm taking you to my tent; you can sit down properly, I'll patch you up, and you'll be back in your bed before anyone notices."

"Oh, your tent? Do you show all the privates this generosity, or am I just a lucky boy?" I couldn't help it.

I felt Miles shoulders shake as he laughed. "You should feel very honoured; the only people I let inside are the beautiful nurses – and Thomas, of course."

I laughed or, more accurately, wheezed. "You'll make the other lads jealous."

"You better keep quiet about it then," he whispered flirtatiously and laughed.

My stomach clenched under the bandages; if only he wasn't joking when he flirted back.

Thankfully he mistook my silence for pain, tightened his grip around my waist and sped his pace. "I've got some morphine in a drawer somewhere; I mistook the crate for beer and decided to keep it for just such an occasion." He laughed to himself. "Well, I had originally intended a young lady draped over my arm, but I suppose you'll do."

I let out a breathy laugh as he lowered me onto one of the beds. I could barely see anything anymore, just the dark silhouettes of some kind of furniture.

A light flickered into existence as Miles struck a match and lit a lantern. Shadows danced around the tent as it swung gently from where his fingers released it.

"Now I can see your charming face," I quipped, regretting it instantly. I really needed to be more careful if I was going to make it through this without being sent back home. Not that I thought Miles would report anything, but I didn't want him to have to choose to defy his orders to keep my secret. I was already making Tom do that, and I was feeling bad enough as it was.

"I have been told I'm incredibly dashing," he replied easily and I relaxed back against the pillows that were propping me up.

Clearly he didn't take anything seriously enough to think it was little more than a joke.

"Roll your sleeve up." It was almost a question as he appeared in the light with a syringe of, I guessed, morphine. "You'll feel a lot better after this."

I did as he asked and he injected the clear liquid into the crook of my elbow. Almost instantly I could feel the numbing sensation spreading across my skin from the pin prick. It seemed to leave a vacancy in my brain where the pain had previously been. I just wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation I was in.

I was dressed as a man to fight in a war and was currently sat on the bed of an absolutely adorable army doctor in the middle of the night. I vaguely wondered what my mother would say if she could see me now.

Miles gave me a strange look as I tried to muffle the laugh that was building up in my throat.

"Are you alright?" he asked, a level of concern to his voice.

"I'm just peachy." I couldn't stop grinning. "Absolutely spectaculacular!"

"I think the morphine's gone to your head." Miles laughed lightly.

"It was meant to go to my stomach!" I giggled, internally slapping myself for sounding so much like a girl.

Miles was just standing with an amused look on his face. "Maybe I slightly overdosed you," he suggested musingly.

I just giggled again and Miles rolled his eyes. "Let's get you sorted out then." He pushed his sleeves up and reached out to unbutton my shirt.

"Oooh, nooo!" I squealed, my voice vibrating with laughter as I took hold of his hands to stop him. "I didn't completely ignore my mother!" I was so far buried in my cosy morphine blanket I was barely aware of what I was saying.

"Maybe the morphine was stronger than the last lot," Miles pulled his hands away with a slightly (okay very) confused expression to examine the side of the crate. "It should begin to wear off soon. I must have just given you too much." He turned to look at me and I grinned back.

"It doesn't hurt anymore, so you worked your magic, Captain!" I tried to wink but I think I just ended up staring at him intently and blinking several times.

"Well that's something." He abandoned the crate and turned to dig out the bandages.

At that moment the flap of the tent shifted and Thomas walked in, brushing water drops off his uniform. "Damn rain," he grumbled, tossing his cap onto the bed. He stopped when he saw me, his expression turning to one of disbelief. He spread his arms open questioningly and mouthed: "what are you doing here?"

I shrugged, and waved at him. 'It just happened,' I mouthed back.

"I thought you would have been trying to keep a low profile," he hissed under his breath.

"But he's really cute." I whined quietly, a grin spreading across my face as I watched the muscles in Miles' back as he fished out a clean bandage, thankfully completely oblivious to me.

Tom gave a start and rolled his eyes with an exasperated expression, "Are you drunk?" He narrowed his eyes at me, his expression suddenly changing to a smile as Miles turned back to us.

"Are you two gossiping behind my back?" Miles asked, pretending to be offended. "I hope you were discussing how wonderful I am."

Tom snorted as he tried to keep in a laugh. He quickly covered it with a cough as his eyes flicked to mine for a brief moment. I could see him clenching the muscles in his jaw, trying desperately to keep a straight face. His mouth was twitching as he pressed a fist to his lips in a vain attempt to compose himself.

"I feel like I'm missing out on a joke," Miles eyed us both suspiciously. "And it must be a funny one if it's got you flashing a smile." He looked to Tom, "I take it your trip to the woods with a certain Miss Trevelyan went well then." Miles' voice rose at the end as he left the speculation hanging in the air.

"Yes it did," Tom answered with a coy smile. "It was very… nice, she was nice… it was a … nice walk."

"Ah, love – it brings out the poet in us all," Miles grinned, winking at his friend.

"I'm not in love," Tom grumbled, though the smile never left his face.

"I saw the way you looked at her," I piped up from my corner, "and I saw the way she looked at you!" I was practically singing.

"Oh, you're one to talk!" Tom retorted, turning on me. "I can see the way you look at-" He stopped as he realised what he was about to say. "No one?" he finished slowly, the gears in his brain failing to think of anything better to say.

I was trying to glare at him but the morphine was making me too light headed. "Can you just change the bandages already?" I asked steering the conversation in a new direction. "The morphine's making me sleepy."

"That's not the only thing it's doing," Tom mumbled quietly, flashing me a grin.

"Alright, don't rush me," Miles smirked back. "A professional has to take his time."

Tom rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of my bed. "Oh, I'll do it. Hand me a clean bandage."

"Stealing my patient again, shameful." Miles winked at me as he passed the bandages to Tom's outstretched hand.

I realised I was staring at Miles as Tom worked on my side, but I couldn't find it in me to care. I could always claim it was the morphine.

"You're healing up nicely. And pretty bloody quickly, if you'll pardon my French," Tom commented as he tied off the bandage and pulled my shirt back down over it. "You must have had a good set of stomach muscles before Fritz had a go at you."

"I always was a healthy young gir- guy," I corrected myself hurriedly with a cough.

Tom pulled a face at me, but thankfully Miles didn't seem to have noticed.

"I suppose we should get you back to the ward before we're all court-martialled for stealing a patient," Miles joked, but there was a hint of genuine disappointment in his voice. Though whether that was about me leaving or having to walk through the rain to get rid of me I wasn't sure.

"I suppose we should," I agreed, eyeing the rain. I could see the light glinting off the tiny spears of water as they fell past the flap in the tent. It was strangely beautiful.

I yawned, and then yawned again, and again. Miles was right; the initial effects of the morphine were already starting to wear off and my brain was shutting down.

I heard Tom give a light chuckle as Miles wrapped his arm around me to pull me to my feet. I swayed for a moment until Tom caught my other arm and together they half lead, half carried me through the rain to the ward.

The nurse's head snapped up as they dragged me through the flap.

"Last minute operation," Miles explained as he heaved me onto the bed, "No need to worry. Just call me when he wakes up."

My eyes were already shut as I felt fingers pulling the boots from my feet and the warmth of the sheets covering me. I was asleep before Miles had left my side.

Just for anyone who was wondering, Morphine really does do that to you... I spent who-knows-how-long with an itchy nose wondering why the doctors were adamantly denying the existence of the monkeys they brought with them...
Though now I think about it, they were cartoon monkeys...

Anyhoo... I should probably stop talking now...
aurevoir!