"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.

"The Lieutenant told me to come see you next sir, I'm Joshua Caine." The red head told her, closing the door behind him before he took the seat that the captain had indicated to.

"Private Joshua Caine, my, my, you have a very interesting juvenile record, quite the little firebug, aren't we?" (Y/n) asked, the private shrugging apologetically.

"I don't do it any more sir, honest; when a was a kid I used to get angry cos the other kids would bully me, and I couldn't control my powers, but now I don't get as angry. And Sargent Howlett helped me work out how to better control my fire." Caine explained, smiling as (Y/n) offered him a cigarette.

"Looks like this Sargent Howlett is quiet a man." (Y/n) said, chuckling as a small flame appeared out of the tip of Caine's thumb allowing him to light his cigarette.

"The Sarg is a real good guy, sir; he would never admit it cos he's a feral and all, and he likes to give off this rough, gruff, I don't give a shit persona, but he's helped a lot of us in one way or another. And most of the time he gets in the way when Creed is angry, and let me tell you, I wouldn't like to get in the middle of one of their fights. They're just lucky they heal quick cos I swear that both of them would be constantly at the medics." Caine chuckled, stubbing out his cigarette, as (Y/n) closed his file.

"Ok Caine, I want you to tell the Lieutenant that along with Dekker, I want a demonstration of what you can do, tomorrow. Now get your ass out of here before I end up sitting in nothing but a burned out shell of a building." (Y/n) said, shaking her head as the fiery red head nearly tripped over his own feet as he made his way back to the door.

"Sir. Lutz is outside, is it ok if I send him in?" Caine asked, as he opened the door, indicating for the other man to enter when (Y/n) nodded.

"Sir." A smooth voice said, the man momentarily shocked as the captain in front of him pulled out their service revolver, firing three shots into him as he stood to attention, the bullets bouncing off his chest.

"So, you really are bulletproof, good job as well, cos I wouldn't like to try and explain away why I had just shot one of my men. Take a seat Lutz." (Y/n) said, indicating to the chair as she continued to peruse the file.

"Being bulletproof isn't a bad skill to have Lutz, especially not at the moment. What calibre can you withstand without getting injured?" (Y/n) asked, her eyes falling on the rather smug looking brown haired, blue eyed man sat across from her.

"I can absorb the impact of any calibre bullets, even tank shells if I have to." Lutz explained cockily as he leaned back in the chair, acting like he owned the place.

"If you don't sit up straight and wipe that shit eating look of your face, I'll find something bigger than a tank shell to hit you with, Lutz. I don't know what you were in the outside world, but here and now you are a private, and I am your superior officer, and you will treat this interview and me with the respect that befits my rank. Do you understand?" (Y/n) growled, trying not to laugh as the smug look instantly left his face, the young man nodding and sitting up straight in his seat.

"Good. Now not only are you bulletproof but you can emanate a protective shield; how many can you protect at one time?" (Y/n) asked, watching as the private brushed his hand through his neatly cropped hair.

"It depends sir, I couldn't shield an entire battalion, but I can certainly protect the boys in the platoon." Lutz explained, looking slightly nervous as the captain leaned over the table and looked him up and down.

"That's just what I wanted to hear. Now if you can quickly learn to change that haughty demeanour of yours, I might just have a very useful and invaluable member of the platoon. Get your ass out." (Y/n) said, throwing his file on the table as Lutz almost ran from the office.

More and more (Y/n) was beginning to believe that this was an impossible mission; now not only did she have twin squabbling kindergartners, a child, a smartass speedster and an illiterate giant, she now also had a firebug and an arrogant asshole that she would have loved to have slapped.

With yet another heavy sigh, (Y/n) got up and looked out of the window, her eyes falling on the other troops that were going about their daily exercises and training. She couldn't help but wish that Justin was with her, the two had been through everything together, and he was always there when she needed advice. A shoulder to cry on, or just to give her a quick kick in the ass when she needed it. She knew he would tell her she could do this, that she should have more confidence in her own abilities, that she was strong enough to do anything that she put her mind to; but whether she believed all that or not, there was a big difference between theory and making this bunch of elementary school kids work like real army. (Y/n) banging her head on the window in frustration. The whole frame rattling in its surround before she made her way back to her desk. Her hand reaching back into the bottom draw of her desk to retrieve the bottle of whiskey and the glass, more positive now than ever, that by the time these interviews were over the bottle was going to be finished.