A New Assignment Pt. 02

***Thank you for your comments. I tried to work on the grammar and tense as well as make the chapter longer.

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Chapter 3

October and November fly by as I quickly integrated myself. I am one of the youngest doctors on staff but one of the best. Senior doctors asked for me to scrub in on some of the more serious surgeries. I had even been called in to consult on a few psychiatric evaluations and found that I am fairly accurate with predicting which soldiers are going to break mentally and which are strong enough to conquer any mental stresses.

I was eating lunch in the staff lounge during one of my shifts. Dr Morgan walked in and sat down at the table across from me. He asked if I wanted to go with him to the holiday ball that was to be held in two weeks. He explained that only military people are invited along with a guest of their choosing. He was not only a doctor but an army veteran. I considered the invite and then accepted, making it clear that we will go 'as friends' because of my no dating colleagues rule. He agrees.

After asking around, I learn that the best place to try and find a dress for the ball was some fifty miles away. This does not make me happy. I don't mind dressing up for an evening out, but get annoyed by the shear pain of finding an appropriate outfit that looks good and feels good. Then there is always the challenge of finding the perfect shoes and purse and jacket depending on the time of year. I wasn't even sure if this was a formal event or a semi-formal event. Would a floor length dress be appropriate or something shorter? How far was I going to have to walk? That would help me decide between high heels that always made me looked slimmer, or lower heels that were much more comfortable. Ugh. Sometimes being a woman sucked. Men decide between a suit or a tux, and in tonight's case some will be wearing their dress uniforms. Woo, big decision there. They have it so easy.

Dr Morgan picks me up at my place wearing a classic black tux and driving his Beamer. He compliments my attire with a big smile and insists that outside of work I call him Paul. I decide instantly that there are not going to be any more events with "Paul" after tonight. We ride in silence to the hotel that is hosting the annual event. Paul opts for valet parking. He hands his keys to the young man waiting and rushes around to open my door and help me out. I note to myself that he is extremely well mannered, which is a very nice quality.

Entering the ballroom, I immediately feel self conscious of my attire. Then I look around and relax, realizing I chose wisely. I am dressed in a very expensive elegant floor length cranberry dress that fits the curves of my body appropriately. The bodice is more fitted with the rest of the material flowing down. My hair and nails have been professionally done. My makeup is flawless.

I think about how tonight's look is quite a different from my usual hospital scrubs and messy ponytail. I notice awkwardly that there are quite a few men glancing in my direction. I think I even caught a glance from the Colonel who is across the room standing off in a corner.

Paul escorts me over and introduces General Miller. I am shocked to hear that he has heard about me. He says that my reputation precedes me. I have only been on base for three months but have already become know as a miracle doctor and decent clinical profiler.

After pleasantries have been exchanged, General Miller announces that he wants to introduce me to one of his best men. It turns out to be the Colonel. The General makes a gesture which seems to call the Colonel over to our area. The Colonel walks confidently across the room and salutes the General.

I gaze at him standing there in his fitted evening dress uniform. The officers' attire consists of a blue evening coat with awarded metals, a white shirt and blue pants with a red and gold stripe down the outside of the legs. My first thought is that he is beautiful. He is tall and solid but not stocky. His green eyes shine like emeralds. His medium brown colored hair is trimmed short and is barely visible under his white barracks cover (which is just a fancy term for their peaked hats). He is sexy. As soon as I think of that, I immediately berate myself for the stray thoughts and try to focus on what the General is saying.

As the introductions are made, the Colonel acts as if we have never met. I am confused as to why he would not mention that he was my patient, but I go along with the charade. The General gushes about how many commendable actions the Colonel has demonstrated and how he is a value to his country. Paul looks bored and when he finds a break in the conversation, he politely excuses us. I was actually grateful for the escape.

Paul walks us toward the dance floor and as we walk, he invites me to dance. I have no interest in dancing with him since it may lead him on, but I agree knowing that my intentions have already been made clear. We share several dances one right after another. It's as if Paul finally got me to dance and doesn't want to stop for fear that I might not return. I finally need a break and tell Paul that I am going to get some punch. Paul offers to get the punch if I will find a table where we can rest. When I reach an available table, I fall into the chair and secretly kick off my shoes as my feet are conveniently hidden by the tablecloth. Paul quickly returns with two glasses of punch in hand. He sits and begins to ask personal questions about my life. I appreciate his interest and try to respond politely without giving too many details. I casually steer the conversation toward a different direction as we begin to discuss medical procedures and recent articles published in the Journal of American Medicine.

The Colonel keeps to himself, occasionally talking with other attendees, but is clearly not happy to be attending the ball or dressing up. When he thinks he has made enough of an appearance, he heads home, glad to be able to get out of his penguin suit.

Paul takes me home after a couple of hours. As I am getting out of the fancy dress, I experience a feeling that the Colonel is in trouble. I am not sure why or how, but I immediately jump in the car (still in my dress and heels) and head back to the base in search of his house. My mind feels around until I can sense his home. I bang urgently on the front door, but there is no answer. I try the door knob and it is unlocked, so I rush inside. I follow my senses until I find him in the bathroom. He was taking a shower and had just stepped out when I barge in the bathroom. We look at each other in shock. I am shocked that the Colonel is butt naked. The Colonel is probably shocked that I am standing there having entered his home. I apologize immediately and back out of the room closing the door as I go. The Colonel is yelling something about having manners and not entering someone's home uninvited. He comes out wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair and muscular chest are still dripping water and he is obviously not happy about my presence.

"What the hell are you doing?" he shouts.

"I had a feeling that something bad was going to happen to you, so I came over here to warn you." I reply out of breath.

My eyes are trying not to look at him but the curves of his six pack abs and well tanned body are hard to avoid. His body is hot and I lick my lips while trying not to visualize him ripping off my dress and taking me.

He catches my glance at his abs and says "Enjoying the show?" I let out a huff, but don't reply.

He continues, "Are you here to warn me that a psycho is going to break in my house as I shower, because I figured that one out all on my own. Thank you very much."

"Fine! I'll leave. Forgive me for trying to save you from harm." the words spit from my mouth as I turn to leave.

"I don't need you to save me from anything, except maybe from you!" I hear as I slam the front door. How dare he be so rude?!

Now that I am standing outside his house, I reach out again with mind and feel that any danger that was once here has passed. My presence must have changed things. That sometimes happens.

Finally getting back home, I rip off the dress and furiously rub off the makeup. I throw on a long t-shirt and jump into bed. I am so frustrated that I can't calm my breathing. My body finally gets to sleep hours later.

Driving to work the next day, I am already dreading the double-shift that I have been scheduled. The ER has been really busy what with extreme training exercises and men being flown in from overseas with bad injuries. I heal or comfort as many patients as possible without drawing attention to my special abilities. Each time I heal, I lose a lot of energy. I barely make it through a normal shift, let alone a double shift. I try to find time throughout the day to take power naps in hopes of restoring energy allowing me to help more soldiers.

My day gets worse as I see the Colonel arrive with another injured marine. He completely ignores me again and works with another doctor. I have decided that I too will ignore him. He started these childish games, but I can play along just as well.

Many hours into the shift, I finally get a break and go to the hospital cafeteria not remembering what meal I ate last. It is about 1 AM, so I opt for a soda with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the vending machine. As I am leaving I hear someone yell "Why are you still here?" I had not noticed anyone else in the cafeteria, so the voice was startling. I turn looking around and see the Colonel sitting alone in the empty cafeteria with his feet propped up on another chair, starring at me. My first thought was to keep walking, but I am too tired to play tit-for-tat.

"I'm working!" I snapped. "Something you never seem to do."

He smirked. "I was just wondering if you ever leave this place. You might want to, oh I don't know, get a life?"

I'm tired, hungry and in desperate need of a shower along with a change of clothes. The only response that came to mind as I turned and walked away was "Maybe you're right."

Heading back to the trauma center, my pager goes off. I grab it up quickly to see where I am needed. There is a message that says "R U OFF 2MROW?" What does that mean? And who would send that message? I'm dealing with life and death matters here and someone thinks it's funny to waste my time. As all these thoughts run through my head, another page comes through. This one says "PIK U UP @1900...B RDY...N TRY 2 DRES UP 4 A CHG". This had to be another dose of cryptic witticism from the Colonel, but how did he get my pager number. I delete the messages and continue back to work eating my sandwich as I walk.

My last shift finally ends around 5AM and I drag my sore, tired body back home. I want nothing more than to fall in bed and sleep, but after looking down at the blood and urine stained scrubs draping my body, I head off to shower. The hot water feels good as it soothes the stress from the last twenty-four hours of work. I am looking forward to having the next forty-eight hours free to do as I please. I turn off the water, quickly run a towel across my body, and then slip into a pair of men's flannel boxers and a raggety t-shirt from my college days. Sleep awaits.