Claire Randall Fraser - I have some good secondary's coming up here. But thanks! I kind of like when my secondary's get some appreciation. I put so much love into crafting them.

alibabwa - I know, it's the last book in this series, so of course things need to get bad.

stargazr41 - Thank you! I appreciate the review! And yes, Daryl's out and about now...going to have his own adventure soon enough.

delenadreamer16 - I have returned to this story, so yes it will be updated more frequently now. I sort of lost interest in it, but I've returned with a vengeance. Thanks for the review!

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Chapter Twenty-Nine: Mademoiselle from Armentieres

**The Lieutenant **

"Alright, so let's pretend that I saluted you, what would that get me?"

It was halfway through his first day of active 'service' and he was shoved in a glorified broom closet counting supplies with a pipsqueak named Brandt who outranked him and didn't let him forget it.

"I should write you up for insubordination," Brandt grumbled, stepping into their cubbyhole with his clipboard. "You salute a superior when they come and go, you know that."

"I also know about ten randy songs from the First World War, wanna hear one?"

"I'm growing tired of this attitude, Lieutenant," Brandt stated, the shorter man invading his personal space like an angry little dog barking at a man's ankle.

"Mademoiselle from Armentieres. Parlez-vous? Mademoiselle from Armentieres. Parlez-vous? Mademoiselle from Armentieres, she hasn't been kissed for forty years. Hinky-dinky parlez-vous," he began to sing idly as he counted cotton swabs.

"Stop that!" Brandt growled. "No singing!"

"She might have been old for all we knew. Parlez-vous? She might have been old for all we knew. Parlez-vous? She might have been old for all we knew when Napoleon flopped at Waterloo. Hinky-dinky parlez-vous?"

"I'm writing you up, Lieutenant!"

"For what, sir?"

"Singing."

"Well, if I'm getting written up I may as well get my fill of it…" the Lieutenant returned with a grin as Brandt's face turned red.

"You might forget the gas and shell. Parlez-vous? You might forget the gas and shell. Parlez-vous? You might forget the gas and shell but you'll never forget the mademoiselle. Hinky-dinky parlez-vous?"

"That's it! You're off duty until further notice!" Brandt shouted.

"For what?" The Lieutenant demanded, waiting a pause just to add to the insult, before saying, "sir."

"For singing!"

"Is quiet while counting supplies a rule written in the guidebook or are you just making things up, sir?" He demanded.

"That's it! You're officially reprimanded!" Brandt declared, waving his hand in the Lieutenant's face. "I'm reporting this, right now!"

As the man stormed out, Fay turned back to his work and quietly went about counting.

"He'll actually report you, you know?" The pretty red head in corner said as she counted her own shelf of supplies.

"Ah well, I wouldn't blame him. I do make a pretty godawful subordinate," he returned with a charming grin.

She smiled back.

"Fate," he greeted.

"Is that a name or are you declaring this meeting to be kismet?" She inquired, juggling her own clipboard in order to take his offered hand.

"Depends on how nice you are to me," he said.

"Clarice," she returned.

"As in Clarice 'fava beans and nice chianti' Starling?" He teased.

"As in Manchester."

"That's a made up name!" He declared playfully.

"I wish it was!" She chuckled.

They went about their work quietly for a bit, the Lieutenant eyeing her and the other Marine in the supply closet with them. He was a shaky young man with grey under his eyes and a waxy look.

"What's with the boy?" He asked softly.

Clarice looked over at him. "That's Wen, they put him in here."

"I see that," he replied. "Little shaky, huh?"

"Yeah."

"What about you?" He demanded of the young man who sat counting bars of soap at a nearby table.

"Not shaky," the man replied. "Just mouthy, I guess."

"A man after my own heart," the Lieutenant said. "You have a name?"

"Peter Knight, sir."

"Now that's a made up name," he teased.

The younger man laughed. "I swear, sir."

"And you're all Privates?"

"Yes, sir."

"None of that stuff, I'm on the bottom rung with you all now, may as well knock it off with the 'sir'."

"Yes, sir."

Turning to the shaky looking young man, he asked, "and Wen? What's that short for? Wendell?"

"Wenceslas," the young man stated softly.

"Now that's made up!" The Lieutenant exclaimed. "Sounds like you should be European royalty or something with a name like that! Please tell me your last name isn't Tudor or something?"

The young man smiled a little, head still bent to his work. "Smith."

"I knew a boy back home, you remind me of him, named Jack. You know a Jack?"

The young man shook his head.

"Mind if I call you Jack, son?"

"No, sir."

"You like Jack for a name?"

"Better than Wenceslas, sir."

"No 'sirs' here, you can call me Fate, sound good?"

"Sure."

Captain Brandt came in like a bull, Colonel Kravitz behind him.

There was a look of triumph in the younger man's eyes as he stood with his chest puffed out by the door as the Colonel approached the Lieutenant.

Winking quickly at the man, Lafayette saluted the Colonel rigidly and stood at attention, until dismissed by a wave of the Colonel's hand.

"Captain Brandt says you've been insubordinate towards his authority?" The Colonel asked softly.

Frowning, the Lieutenant said, "mais, this is a serious matter. What are the charges, sir?"

"He was singing, sir!" Brandt declared.

Colonel Kravitz quirked a brow. "Singing?"

"I was, sir," the Lieutenant confessed. "I apologize, but I work a lot faster when I sing 'God Bless America', puts an extra bounce in my step, sir. I'm sorry for my patriotism. If it bothers the Captain that much, I can most certainly keep my love for my country to myself."

"He wasn't singing 'God Bless America'!" Brandt shouted. "He was singing some dumb assed song about some old French bitch!"

"And your superior asked you to stop singing, Lieutenant?" Kravitz asked.

"Yes he did, sir. I'm very sorry for singing 'God Bless America', I thought of all times, now more than ever we need it, don't we, sir?"

"Private Manchester, did you witness this incident?" Colonel Kravitz asked.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"Was he in key at least?" Kravitz teased.

"He's got a fine singing tenor, sir," she pointed out.

"Colonel—" Brandt began.

"We'll, ah, discuss this in my office, Captain. Fair enough?"

Brandt's face turned red.

Turning a little to face the man, Kravitz said, "now, Captain."

It wasn't a request, the man's tone turning icy and dark.

It scared even Lafayette a little and he cleared his throat.

As Brandt slunk out, Kravitz turned back to the others in the room.

"Laying it on a little thick, Lieutenant," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"I love my country, sir, that's all," he returned.

"Um-hm, try to show Brandt a little more respect, perhaps? For my sake?"

"I'll do my best, Colonel."

Turning sharply, Kravitz wandered off, clipboard in hand.

As the door closed behind the Colonel, Lafayette turned to his fellow bean counters and grinned.

"Hinky-dinky parlez-vous," he sang smugly, before getting back to work.

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..-~-..

"Cher, I'm home!" He exclaimed, sweeping into the broom closet of a room they shared.

She looked up from where she sat reading a book on the upper bunk.

"Oh, right, not my wife…and it's a broom closet," he joked, easing his weary bones onto the lower bunk with a sigh.

"How was your day?" She inquired, slipping from her bunk to sit down at his side.

"Long and boring, I forgot how much I hated conventional military work, so much rules and bullshit politics. I think my superior has a crush on me, he keeps fighting with me, but I think it's love and he just doesn't know how to express himself, poor baby." He murmured from beneath his arm as he draped it across his eyes. "I mean, I can't blame him, I'm pretty fantastic."

"Well, while you were doing your due duty, I was scoping out the place," she said softly, still worried about being monitored somehow.

Easing back against his hip, she went on, "they don't keep their weapons and ammunition in the tent city, but somewhere in this building."

"Who's in charge of the supply req's then?" He murmured, still buried beneath his arm.

Flopping onto his stomach, she lay there, feet on the floor. "Sergeant Connolly."

"Army?"

"Yes. She's coming by tonight to take me out, introduce me to some of the women on base."

"Good," he said. "I can take a nap."

Carol poked him in the ribs.

"Ooh-ye-yi!" He grumbled playfully, rubbing the spot she had assaulted.

"Am I doing all the work then?" She demanded.

He grinned charmingly at her. "Mais, I can put a skirt on and join you ladies if you want."

"I mean, you could make friends too, you know?"

"I could make friends, but I hate military personnel."

"I'm not going to be the ant to your grasshopper," she stated.

"What?" He demanded.

"The fable?" She suggested.

"What the hell is a fable?"

"Never mind."

"And who the hell said you could use me as a pillow?" He demanded lightly, eyes twinkling, poking her in the ribs until she stood up. Snuggling deep into his bunk, he murmured, "just…you know…fill me in."

Pausing by the doorway, Carol turned back to him. "You aren't dumb enough to not know what a fable is."

"Of course I know what a fable is," he returned. "And I am helping, you just can't see it right now."

She came back quietly, moving like a cat on gentle feet. "What are your plans?"

"I figure, if I piss off my CO enough he might put in to get me discharged, they might kick us out if I'm not longer a Marine…especially if they really are playing by the books."

She smiled sadly.

Reaching out he took hold of her hand and warmly squeezed it. "Don't worry, mama, we'll get you home to your baby girl."

Carol nodded.

"And you be careful tonight," he said, releasing her hand. "Anything you get going, you make sure you leave me out of it so I can play dumb with Daryl."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, ange, you said it yourself, you're going to get closer to that Major-General."

She was quiet.

Opening his eyes, he met her gaze with a solid, almost reassuring look. "You gotta do what you gotta do to get back to your family. But I can't lie to Daryl, so keep me clear of it, yeah?"

"Do you think me awful for it?" She inquired.

"Of course not," he stated. "If there was a lady higher up than him, I'd be on that like stank on a trucker's ass. You're not the only one who wants to go home, darling. I have a little boy I've only ever held once."

Carol sat down at his side again, still quiet.

"You know what," he said with a sigh, propping himself up on his elbows. "Fuck it, you need to talk, you can talk to me. Daryl will…just have to not know these things."

"Kind of like we're still in the well," she replied softly.

He smiled. "Yeah, we're still down the rabbit hole."

Flopping back, he yawned and said, "I'll tell you one thing. When get out of here, I'm never wearing a goddamned uniform again…military types keep sniffing around me like I'm the last single girl before prom."

"It's because you're a triple threat," she stated.

"Who told you that?" He demanded.

"I've heard it said. What does it mean?"

"I'm handsome, charming and tall," he teased with a grin. "Triple threat."

This managed to coax a small grin from her and he poked at her ribs again playfully, still too lazy to sit up.

"Listen," he said finally, looking at her with a comforting sobriety in his eyes. "Maybe if I piss off Brandt enough, you may not even have to do anything untoward with this Major-General pain in the ass."

"Just don't make him too angry, this place might not be so 'by-the-book' as they claim."

He nodded. "I know, that's my worry too."

"Well, I should get ready, Sergeant Connolly said she'd bring some dresses by for me to try on."

The Lieutenant furrowed his brows. "Just how fancy is this going out you're doing?"

Carol shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't worn a dress…since my wedding?"

"Jesus Lord," the Lieutenant gasped. "I'm honoured to be the first and only one still alive to witness this momentous event."

"You aren't going to see me in it," she stated.

"Oh? You're changing in the hall then? I'm sure those military boys will get a nice eyeful."

"I will be changing in the ladies shower room." She said as she stood up, just as a knock came to the door. "That's probably Connolly now," she pointed out, answering the door.

The Lieutenant sat up with a grin and eyed the door eagerly as Carol let Connolly into their closet.

"I brought a few dresses," Connolly said before she noticed the Lieutenant on the bunk. "Oh, you must be Lieutenant Vancoughnett."

"I must be," he replied. "Otherwise some strange man is just sitting in my bed, chatting up my wife."

"We'll change in the shower rooms," Carol said. "You can find me something there."

"Oh, you can change here, my love," the Lieutenant exclaimed with a cheeky grin. "I'd kind of like to see you in a pretty new dress, gives me tingles just thinking about it."

Carol gave him a warning look over Connolly's shoulder as the younger woman laid out the dresses on a small metal desk.

Standing up, he towered over the two women from behind and beamed. "Oooh, wear that tight red one, it's pretty!"

Pushing him away with her hand against his chest, Carol gave him another hard warning look.

"I'll wear the white one," she said to Connolly.

"Oh, but darling, I like you in red," the Lieutenant declared.

"I think Carol's right, I wasn't sure about red on her anyways…maybe the brown one?"

"Brown's nice if you're a hippie," the Lieutenant teased, still hovering over them both.

"Maybe I am?" Carol demanded, giving him another warning look that could cut glass. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Maybe I like hippies," the Lieutenant argued. "Didn't say being a brown wearing hippie is a bad thing…"

"I'll try the white one," Carol said. "Thank you."

Connolly smiled as Carol picked up the white dress and said, "we'll change in the shower room. I can do your make up there too, if you'd like."

"I don't…wear a lot of make up," Carol said.

The Lieutenant watched this exchange with a tiny smirk, leaning against a nearby wall. Well, any wall in their closet room was nearby, he supposed.

"I don't know how late we'll be," Carol addressed him.

It took him a moment to slip into husband mode and he smiled. "That's fine, my love, you be careful tonight, yeah?"

She nodded.

"Break some hearts," he added with a wink, moving to kiss her cheek appropriately in character.

Again she nodded.

"It was nice to meet you, Lieutenant," Connolly said. "You're not at all what I imagined."

"Oh? You imagined me, huh?"

Connolly laughed. "Marine boys, you know? All of them are puffed up peacock's, strutting around chasing tail."

The Lieutenant laughed. "Is that what we are? Good God! I've been away far too long from the service!"

As the women headed out the door, he called after them, "ange!"

Carol turned back.

"You watch out for those Marine boys, I hear they're terrible."

She smiled. "They are."