"Sir." A quiet knock and an uncomfortable cough came, alerting (Y/n) that someone had entered the office.

"Yes Lieutenant, what is it?" (Y/n) almost groaned, as the tall man hesitantly moved into the room.

"Well, sir, we are having a little bit of a problem, its Private Novak, you might want to come outside." Smith said apologetically, watching as the Captain reluctantly rose from the seat, and picked up the file of the new man that was obviously going to add to her ever growing number of problems.

As (Y/n) made her way outside she was confronted by a mass of men, each looking exactly the same, each giving her a cocky smile. With an even heavier sigh than before, (Y/n) opened the file in her hand, scanning the information on the number of men before her.

"Private Michael Novak; ability, self-duplication. Well no shit, Sherlock." (Y/n) called out, as she leaned against the upright of the door, staring at the throng of duplicates, as she continued to flick through the paperwork.

"It's a shame, you have quite a good record up until this point, how unfortunate that all of that is going to change. Lieutenant Smith, I want Novak brought up on a charge of insubordination, I want him taken into custody by the MPs until such time as the camp commander returns to the base." (Y/n) ordered, as Smith stared between her and the mass of men.

"Er....... I would sir, but I'm not quite sure which one is actually Novak." Smith said apologetically, as he watched a rather disgruntled looking Captain make his way over to one of the men, grabbing hold of him by the ear, and then smiling as all the others disappeared.

"If you look close enough Lieutenant, there is always a slight, almost undetectable difference between the originally and the copies. Once you see that difference than you can find the real man. Now get the MPs, and get this idiot locked up." (Y/n) said, handing the man to the confused looking Smith.

"I'm sorry sir, it.......it wasn't my idea. Sarg said if I did it, he would make sure that I got a weekend pass; I've met a girl in the village, and I wanted to take her to the dance." Novak tried to explain, desperate to not find himself locked up for the forceable future.

"And this Sargent wouldn't happen to be Victor Creed, would it?" (Y/n) growled, slapping the young man around the back of the head as he nodded.

"That is for letting yourself be used." (Y/n) told Novak, shaking her head as the young man looked down sheepishly, one hand rubbing his ear, the other the back of his head.

"I am the one that controls the weekend passes, not Creed. You boys are quickly gonna learn that there is a new boss around here, and if Creed isn't careful, I will personally neuter him. Now, get in that damn office." (Y/n) warned, as she watched the man scurry into the building.

"I take it that Sargent Creed is not liking the fact that I am making him wait?" (Y/n) asked quietly, as she came to stand by Smith's side.

"I think you could say that sir. He is demanding to be seen, wants to know why he and Howlett are being left to last." Smith told (Y/n), running his finger around the inside of his collar, looking slightly confused as the captain began to laugh.

"Well Lieutenant, you can tell Creed that if he dares to demand anything of me again, he will be seeing this war out from behind bars. And you can also tell Creed, that I will see him when I damn well please, I don't know what your other captain did, but I assure you that I am a very different animal." (Y/n) said with a chuckle, as she patted Smith on the arm and made her way back into the office.

"Are you always so gullible Novak, or are you making a special exception just for today." (Y/n) asked, as she threw the file down on the desk, and sat in the chair across from the now very uncomfortable looking man, the smirk long since gone.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't want to, but when Sarg said that he could get me a pass, well.........well, I would do anything to see Esme. You should see her sir, she is beautiful, and ............." Novak began to ramble, only stopping when (Y/n) coughed.

"Yes Novak, I am sure that this Esme is beautiful, they all are; but to put your liberty in jeopardy just for a quick fumble behind the back of the dancehall is a little stupid don't you think?" (Y/n) asked, as she looked at the slightly overweight, black haired man.

(Y/n) had heard this story a million times before, in fact, the British had already started to use the phrase 'over paid, over sexed, and over here' to describe the influx of GIs that were invading the small country. The American's already getting quite a reputation for themselves with the local young ladies.

"No sir, its not like that. Esme is special......... I want to ask er ta marry me." Novak explained, as (Y/n) shook her head.

"Jeez Novak, you've only been here 4 months, you're a quick worker." (Y/n) chuckled, as Novak rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Sarg said that I'm lucky ta get anyone, so if any woman could see passed the fact that I am a fatso then I should probably keep hold of her." Novak told her, (Y/n) growing to like Creed less and less with every passing moment.

"You know something Novak, I would say that this Esme is a very lucky girl, and I'm getting real sick of hearing about Sargent Creed's opinions, opinions that he should keep to his damn self." (Y/n) told him, as she reached into the top draw of the desk, shuffling through the paperwork until she found what she was looking for.

"Alright Novak, I tell you what, if I give you a pass so that you can take your lovely Esme to the dance this weekend, I want you to do something for me. I want you to promise that you will only use your ability when I tell you, and not when Sargent Creed tells you." (Y/n) said, holding out the pass for the excited young man to take.

"Yes sir, anything you say sir, only when you order, sir." Novak grinned, as he pushed the small slip of paper into his pocket.

"Ok Novak, get your ass out, before I change my mind and get the MPs." (Y/n) told him, the young man quickly hurrying out of the room.

(Y/n) looked at the clock on the wall, it wasn't even twelve yet and she already wanted to go to bed and forget that this day had even happened. Hoping that when she finally lay her head on the pillow, she would wake to find that she was back in the States. Back in her small home, back with her dog Duke, and the war, and this platoon would all be just some terrible nightmare.

Pouring herself a glass of water, hoping that the cool fresh liquid would help wash away some of the effects of the whiskey that she had already consumed, her eyes widened as the liquid suddenly levitated out of the glass, forming into a glistening sphere before floating in the air.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, sir. Let me take care of that for you." A man with pale white hair said with a salute, as he appeared through the door. The water dropping back into the glass with a splash, the drops landing on (Y/n)'s paperwork.

"You must be Edward Strong, and obviously you are hydrokinetic." (Y/n) grumbled, as she pulled a handkerchief from her trouser pocket, wiping the excess water from the files.

"That's correct sir, I have the ability to manipulate and control liquid water and mould it into any desired shape or form." Strong explained, his chipper posh English accent more than obvious as he spoke.

"If you don't mind me asking Strong, ya don't sound very American to me. How come you are with an American platoon?" (Y/n) asked, as she picked up his slightly soggy file.

"Well you see sir, my father is the English one, mother is American, from Manhattan; both of them insisted that I was educated here, so that's why my accent is so strong. When the war broke out I was back in the States, I wanted to return and do my bit then, but mother wouldn't have it; but after Pearl Harbour, well I knew I had to do something, so that is why I am here with the Americans rather than the British." Strong explained, as he straightened his posture and brushed off his neatly pressed uniform.

"And how popular does that make you with the rest of the boys? I mean your mom is a socialite, and you've been educated at Eton, and other men from your social background are usually officers. What do these normal, blue collar boys make of it?" (Y/n) enquired, as she closed the file and looked up at the charmingly smiling man.

"Well, apart from being called a limey in the beginning, the others have been pretty good to be honest. Admittedly I am a little more popular because of the care packages that mother sends; but on the whole, we get on like a house on fire. I know that I could have gone to be an officer, unfortunately I found that I am far better at taking orders than giving them. So, I thought that I would leave that up to men such as yourself, sir." Strong explained, as (Y/n) sat back in her chair and folded her arms.

"Ok Strong, if you can control water better than that little demonstration before, then you might be useful. And if you get on well with private Caine, then I could have myself a very formidable pair on my hands. So, go tell the Lieutenant that I want you to join the others in our little show and tell tomorrow. You're dismissed." (Y/n) told him, smiling as he gave her the best salute that she had seen all day.

(Y/n) looked at the thankfully decreasing pile of files that still sat on her desk, three more privates and then she was on to Howlett and Creed. Opening their files she took out the pictures and looked at them; Creed looked arrogant, he looked like the kind of man that under normal circumstances you would cross the street to avoid. And knowing what she did now, knowing how he used, abused and manipulated others for his own ends, she was liking him less. It was true he was ruggedly handsome, even in the picture she could see that glint in his eyes. But a handsome face didn't make up for a black soul, and a dead heart; but maybe, just maybe there was something she could appeal to, something that deep down would make this feral come to the table and work with her.

Looking at the picture of Howlett, she could see the same dangerous glint in his eyes as in Creeds. His strong jaw and defined features were more elegant than the other ferals and seemed to show a softness that he was desperately trying to hide; but from what she had heard from the men so far, and despite his outward shows of bluff and bravado, Howlett had a good heart and a fiercely loyal bond with the other men. A bond that she hoped she could make extend to her.

"Sir." A voice called out as (Y/n) quickly pushed the pictures back into the files, the new man walking into the office, tucking his shirt tails in before he saluted.

"I'm Gates, sir. Private Donovan Gates." He announced, nodding his head respectfully as (Y/n) indicated for him to take a seat.

"Well, Gates, why don't you tell me all about yourself." (Y/n) said, as leant forward on the desk, waiting to hear what issues this man would bring to the table.