"For Christ sake! I've already told you a thousand times what bleedin' happened. I've written it down, had it recorded. Or can't you lot bloody read?" Molly crashed her head into her arms, trying not to show them her weakness.

This was her third visit to the police station this week. They still wanted to talk to her about what had happened that night at The Red Lion, with Artan. Over and over Inspector Jones and Sergeant Morris - the police officers assigned to the case - had made her to recount the events that occurred outside the pub, forcing her relive every moment.

"I'm sorry, Private Dawes," said Inspector Jones, "but we need to understand fully what happened last Friday and we've been hearing two different stories. So, one more time: what happened at the Red Lion last Friday?"

Inhaling one deep, gasping breath, Molly lifted her head, opened her eyes and began to speak.

"I was at the Red Lion with Captain James and the rest of Two Section. We were-"
Beginning the interruptions early, which Molly fully expected now, the Sergeant asked, "who were 'Two Section?'"

Molly closed her eyes and counted quickly to ten while squeezing her wrist, pretending it was the Sergeant's neck (she had been taught this by the pastoral support at school, the only helpful they ever did tell her). "Two Section were my section in the army. Do I have to repeat all their names again?"

Sergeant Morris started to speak but Inspector Jones just shook his head. "Carry on."

/()\

Exhausted, Molly dropped onto her bed, ignoring the hundreds of 'how was it's and pushing past her dad.

She buried her face into her pillow. Outside, the sky had turned black and if she was silent she could hear the steady breath of her younger sister, asleep in the bunk above. Molly's duvet pulled its around her, sliding over her skin like Artan's slimy hands. Molly shivers and kicked the covers away.

Slowly, her eyes drifted close and her thoughts filled with Captain James once again.

Charles.

Molly smiled as she remembered their time in Afghan, the way he looked at her when he discovered she was fond of him, the first time they kissed, reminiscing the first moment Molly realised her feelings for him.

Don't go breaking my heart.

When he had first commanded her to sing with him, Molly had only remembered the sarcastic, mocking captain who had ridiculed her on her first day. But there was a second, in the middle of the song, when everything changed.

I couldn't if I tried.

A quote from something she was supposed to study at school came to mind: "my only love sprung from my only hate." Molly didn't know where it was from, only that she understood its meaning.

Honey, if I get restless.

She loved Captain James.

Baby you're not that kind.

Opening her eyes, Molly stared up at the mattress of her sister's bed above her where she had pinned a photo of Two Section.

Don't go breaking my heart.

Charles' arms around hers, both in the compound in afghan and the other night when they were dancing.

You take the weight off of me.

They spun around the floor, holding hands, both moving in closer, beaming as they were finally together.

Honey when you knock on my door.

When they went back to the bar after the dance, Molly had really thought he would say it, that they would talk about what happened.

But they were interrupted.

I gave you my key.

"Molly?"

Without that word, everything would be so different.

"Artan!"

Nobody knows it

"Can we talk?"

When I was down, I was your clown

"You are my love, my heart."

Nobody knows it

"Come on, Molly. I know you want this as well."

Right from the start, I gave you my heart.

His fingers slithered-

Molly kicked-

His hands groped-

Molly struggled-

He scrabbled at her bra-

Molly fought-

This was it-

Gasping violently, Molly leapt out of her dream. She sat bolt upright, knocking her head on the bunked above. She was dripping in sweat, the covers - which someone had placed over her in an effort to comfort her - were twisted and untidy as though they had been trying to keep a wild animal hostage. Her breaths were quick and heavy; her lungs could not appear to grab air fast enough. Panting, she culled her back and rolled back down to that she was lying flat on her bed again.

She glanced at the clock. Two in the morning.

What ever happened, Molly would never get back to sleep tonight.

/()\

Having scrubbed down the kitchen, cleared away the children's toys from the lounge and finishing the pile of ironing her mum had left to do in the morning, Molly messed around on her laptop.

It was an old, dodgy model with a couple of gross stains on the odd key. Her eyes were desperate to go back to sleep but, terrified that her nightmare would recur, Molly gulped down another coffee and put her headphones on, blaring out loud pop songs at its full volume.

The weirdest thing was that towards the end of last week, Molly's nightmares had begun to fade. Ever since returning from Afhgan, Mollyhad been having terrible dreams about the attacks, something happening to the rest of the platoon, to Smurf or Captain James, to Bashira.

She worried about the little girl most of all. What if something happened to her and it was all Molly's fault?

Despite his attempts, everytime Quasseem had managed to get a lead so far, something had happened so that Bashira slipped through his fingers. Molly had tried to stay in co tact with him everyday but nothing had happened yet.

If that couldn't keep her awake, nothing could.

When the rest of the house woke up, her mum found Molly sitting at the table, dark circles under her eyes and a cold cup of coffee in her heart, the capsules to her left.

"Where did ya get these from, Molls?" her mum asked picking the packet up and twirling it around in her fingers. "They're well fancy, ain't they? What are they called? Rosiebowyer? Rossabiea?"

"Rosabaya," Molly whispered.

/()\

"Molls!" yelled her younger brother Alex from downstairs. "Your boyfriend's here!"

Looking up from where she was applying eye-liner to her right eye - after finally heaving herself to the shower and drying her hair - Molly got up and hurried down the stairs, wondering who it was.

"Molly's got a boyfriend! Molly's got a boyfriend!"chanted her younger siblings from the hallway.

"Shut it, you little-" Molly was cut off by the person she came face to face standing in the doorway. "Smurf."

"Hey, Molls. You know, if you wanted me to be your boyfriend, you only had to ask," he grinned and Molly could have sworn she saw him wink.

"Hysterical, you Welsh wanker. Want some breakfast?"

"Sure," he wrapped his arm around her waist and laughing, they headed towards the smells of bacon, wafting from the kitchen.

/()\

Scoffing down a heart breakfast like he hadn't eaten in a month, Smurf explained that he'd decided to come down to see how Molly was, to check she was alright after everything that happened.

Obviously, she claimed he was fine, brushing off the fact that she hadon't been able to get a wink of sleep after her nightmare.

"So what do you want to do?" Smurf asked between mouthfuls. "You can have the pleasure of my company for the whole day, doing any activity of your choice, on one condition:" Smurf bargained," we can travel in a taxi."

Laughing, Molly asked, "what is it about taxis? It's just a black car that charges ten times as much as the bus."

"But,"argued Smurf, "you get your own personal chauffeur!"

Molly rolled her eyes. "So, what torture shall I inflict on you today?" She pondered.

"For you," flirted Smurf, taking her hand and planting a light kiss on it, "I would do anything. Well," he reconsidered, "anything except-"

"Shopping!" Molly squealed.

Smurf only groaned.

"You did say anything,"Molly reminded him. "And all the best shopping areas of town are on the other side so we'll have to take a taxi."

"In that case, I suppose I can make an exception," Smurf relented, his eyes lighting up like a child's on Christmas Day.

/()\

Despite his obvious disgust for the activity, Smurf played along with Molly's wishes, buying her each and every thing she touched or admired. Every so often, Molly thought he even looked as though he was enjoying himself.

Finally they stopped for lunch a one of the pop-up fish and chip shops which lined the South Bank close to the London Eye. The pair of them sat, huddled under a tree on a small park bench, feasting on a portion of chips.

A few feet to their left was a street entertainer, painted entirely purple and holding a crystal bowl. Molly sat watching her for a while, amazed.

"Thinking about your dream job, Dawes?" asked Smurf, nicking another chip.

"Not bloody likely. I'd hate to have to stand still all day. It'd do my nut in!"

"Mine too," agreed Smurf.

"And mine," said a voice from behind them as a hand appeared in their cone of chips and took one before Molly could snatch it away.

Their heads whipped around to be greeted with the cocky grin of Captain James. "Sorry guys, I haven't had chips in bloody ages!"

"It's alright Sir. I thought you were one of the other boys or something," explained Molly.

"So you wouldn't let one of your own Section have one of your chips, Dawes?" the Bossman verified, perching on the bench beside her and grabbing two more of the salt-covered chips.

Seeing what her captain was doing, Molly replied, "No, I wouldn't let any of that lot stick their hands in my chips!"

Smurf sniggered, understanding the joke for the most part but missing out on the underlying conversation.

"But you'd let me, would you, Dawes?" Captain smirked.

Molly blushed before thinking better of it and working out another of her perfectly witty comebacks. "Definitely, Sir. I mean, we're on first name terms, aren't we?"

Now it was his turn to blush as Smurf asked what it was.

"Please tell me! Molls, it isn't right to keep things from your comrades. We all need to trust eachother and its unfair that only you know the Bossman's name. Please!" Smurf whined.

Faithful as ever, Molly refused to breathe a word. "You'll have to ask the Bossman, it ain't my secret to tell you," she reasoned.

Scowling like a little boy who had been denied a new toy, Smurf folded his arms with a huff and refused to speak to either of them.

Charles and Molly laughed.

"So, how are you?" the Bossman asked tentatively.

Nervously, Molly nodded but to avoid going into a conversation about the events of Friday, quickly added: "What about you? How the leg?"

"Still recovering. The doctors think that some physio therapy might help so I'm going to my first session today."

"Good," Molly smiled. "Soon you'll be off that crutch and marching us all around in circles again."

Before they said anything else, before Molly had the chance to say all the things she wanted to so desperately, Captain James as getting to his feet.

"You're going already?" asked a disheartened Molly.

"Sorry," smiled Charles, "I've got that physio appointment. I'd better go."

"See you soon?" Molly said, using the tone of a request, not a promise.

Captain James only nodded and with a wink, he was gone.

"Right," said Smurf, snapping into action and pulling Molly back to reality, "where to next?"

Grinning internally, Molly replied, "I know just the place."

/()\

After a SHORT taxi ride, Molly found herself staring up at the Nespresso sign once again. The last time she had seen it, she knew that she would be heading back to Afhgan tomorrow. This time she was buying for the hell of it.

As she pushed open one of the huge glass door and walked into the enormous shop, her lungs filled with the scent of coffee. There were so many different types, different brands, different tastes, different-

Something rammed into Molly and she felt herself ready to kick into her soldier mode.

There was no need as she looked down into the eyes of a frightened little boy.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, quivering.

"That's alright, little man," smiled Molly. She was about to walk past him when she saw what his little hands were gripping onto ever so tightly. "Rosabaya," she read off the packaging. "Good choice."

"It's for my daddy! It's his favourite in the whole wide world and I'm going to visit him tomorrow and I'm going to wrap it up in pretty paper and give it to him and-"

"Alfie! Alfie? There you are." The worried cries of his mother cut him off. "Now, don't ever run off like that again, I was worried sick."

"Sorry mummy."

The woman looked at Molly with the face of 'you-know-what-kids-are-like' and taking his hand, led him out of the store.

With a final look back, the little boy waved at Molly. Beaming, she grinned back as his grasped tightly onto the packet of coffee.

/()\

Worn out, that night Molly collapsed onto her bed. She just hoped that she would be too tired fir nightmares.

Beep beep. Beep beep.

Molly groaned as she rolled over and picked up her phone.

Hey, Molls. I'm sorry if I interrupted your date with Smurf earlier. Charles

WHAT! U thought it was a date. Don't worry, u wernt interrupting anything. Molls

Just before she sent it, in the spur of the moment, Molly added a couple of kisses after her name.

In that case, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at some point. Charles xxx

Sure! When's good 4 u? Molls xxx

How is Monday? I thought we could get lunch and maybe try to get some late tickets for a show? Charles xxx

Works 4 me. Looking forward 2 it already. -

Molly paused before signing the text. How should she sign it? Just 'Molls'? 'Love Molls'?

Works 4 me. Looking forward 2 it already, love Molly xxx

After deleting the kisses, Molly inhaled and before she could change, pressed send.

Sorry it took me so long to update, I plan to update ago this week again though and I'm also writing a short fanfic, probably three or four chapters about what happens after Molly goes back to Afghan.

Awaiting your reviews eagerly,

Indigofrog :)