M-Platoon

Chapter 5 - More trouble

"Breed you boys big in Nebraska don't they Dekker." (Y/n) said with a chuckle, as she got up from her seat and rounded the table.

"Yes sir, I suppose they do." The big man told her, growing wide eyed as the Captain came to sit with him on the floor.

"So, you are my resident strong man?" (Y/n) asked, as she opened his file her eyes instantly falling on the information that told her that the man in front of her had an IQ barely above 70.

"Yes sir, the boys call me Ox, they say I'm all brawn and no brain; Sarg Creed just says I'm a fuckin moron." Dekker confessed, looking at the man in front of him as he closed his file.

"I think that Sargent Creed has a big mouth and should learn to keep his opinions to himself; now, can you read, write?" (Y/n) asked, as she watched the big man shuffle uncomfortably on the floor.

"No sir, never had much call for it at home on the farm. And even when they did try and teach me, I couldn't make sense of it; that and I tend ta break things. I don't mean to, but the teachers used to kick me out of their class and send me home. Now I just stick ta breaking things for the army." Dekker explained with a slight snicker, smiling as the captain nodded his head.

"I'll make you a deal Dekker, if you try and be as careful as you can, and you give me a demonstration tomorrow of what you can lift and break, I'll have you in here helping out with Schultz. And when I get the chance, I'll have a go at teaching you how to read and write, how about that?" (Y/n) asked, suddenly finding herself pulled up into the air as Dekker sprang to his feet the wooden floor splintering under the impact as he pulled (Y/n) into a bone crushing embrace.

"I'd like that sir, ma and pa would love it if I could write em." Dekker said, still not realising that he was almost squeezing the life out of his new XO.

"Dekker! Dekker! DEKKER! Put me down." (Y/n) gasped, fighting for air as Dekker dropped her to the floor without warning.

"S-s-sorry sir, I didn't mean to...... I didn't mean to hurt you none." Dekker apologised, as he helped (Y/n) off the floor, brushing down her uniform as she tried to get much needed oxygen back into her lungs.

"Its ok Dekker, just get outta here and go tell the Lieutenant that I want him to organise something so you can show me how good you are; and I want you in this office at 0700hrs in the morning." (Y/n) said, rubbing her aching ribs as she moved to sit back in her chair.

"Oh, and Dekker." (Y/n) called out, as the large man stopped in the door.

"Don't listen to Sargent Creed, you aren't a moron, and we are going to show him that." (Y/n) told him, smiling as the private saluted and squeezed his way back through the door.

(Y/n) dropped back into her chair and leant forward, putting her head into her hands. Regretting the moment that she had let the General got her into this. Believing that at this present moment in time, the stockade would be preferable to having to deal with.

There was a small part of her that just wanted to get up and walk straight out of camp, change back into herself and make her way back to Waverly Hall, with her hands out ready for the General to have her clapped in irons; but then she remembered that if she couldn't bring these guys together, their future could be uncertain. And she was sure that even if Sargent Howlett did all he could to keep them together, the General would have them broken up and sent to god only knew where.

Pulling a cigarette from its packet, she tapped it on the table before lighting it and taking a deep draw of smoke into her lungs, sure that by the end of the war she would be locked up somewhere, a shaking, shivering, drooling loon. The shapeshifter taking a deep breath, as a brisk knock sounded sharply at the door. The ingress swinging open as a short stocky young man with bright auburn hair stood in the doorway.