The name tag read 'Honey'. It was simple, it was sweet, and it seemed to fit the blonde girl perfectly. Her smile was sweet and enticing, like honey was to a bee. She had the face of an angel and the body of a devil, a combination that would bring any man to her like a bee to a honeycomb. So, when her father was volunteered to work in the hospital for the wounded sent home, the man jumped for it, and brought his daughter to raise their moral. If there was someone as beautiful as her around, the men would be more motivated to get well quicker. Her father didn't think like most.

Honey, as it was the girl's real name, was there to help people. The war was something that she wasn't sure she supported. However, she had an uncle who had died on Pearl Harbor, and she wasn't about to protest a war that would make those villains pay. Her future husband, Derek Martin, was a fighter pilot for the United States of America. Everytime she walked into the hospital she worried that someone would have news about his plane being shot down. And she always hoped that someone was out there, taking care of him for her. As she was taking care of other women's husbands, fiances, sons. Always, the words went through her mind 'What if this were Derek?' and it motivated her more than anything else could.

The usual thoughts passed Honey's mind again as she walked into the hospital, her white gown freshly washed and pressed, giving it a completely sterile look. Her shoes were comfortable, though plain, and white, along with her small cap. She was there to work, not for a visit, but her hair was perfectly pinned up, in small twists and curls. Her make-up was subtle, except for the red of her lips. Somehow, in that outfit, with that make-up, she looked like an angel, and people were saying she was all the time.

"Good morning, Father." Honey greeted the man standing over an occupied cot. She knew the man who laid there to be a soldier from North Carolina, who would be heading home any day. "Any new patients today?" She asked, like she did every morning.

"Yes, yes." The older man said distractedly. "He's over in the last cot. Be careful with him." A common warning, as Honey proceeded to check on the man in the last cot.

*~*Closed Role-play between livinglyrics88 and Sweet Angel Jocelyn *~*

Sgt. Charles Driscoll, better known as Charlie by anyone who would ever come across him, signed up for the military as a civic duty to his country, rather than wandering around ready to be chosen for it without the consent of his own free will. He loved what he did, working in the heavy machinery division of the infantry. He wasn't afraid to step up to battle lines, get his hands dirty, and give everything he had to protect his other men and what they stood for. He worked harder than anyone else to reach the rank he held at such a young age, and worked even harder to prove that he deserved it.

It was those kind of ideals, though, that brought him to this hospital bed with a gunshot wound to the leg, and another to his chest -- just under his heart. He didn't remember much about how he got here, just faint words here and there of voices he didn't know telling him he was 'lucky to be alive'. As he looked down at his body, covered in white sheets and laying on a small, uncomfortable bed, he felt far from lucky. His body was bruised, scratched, and his face had the same bruises and scratches.

Laying his head back against the standard-issue pillow he was provided, Charlie closed his eyes, trying to think of something -- anything, that would take him back to a happier place. He tried to think about his family, but he just couldn't. He couldn't remember anything about his upbringing, though it was one of great privilege. Charlie was the son of a wealthy factory owner in Mississippi, leaving his southern accent just barely present, as he'd learn to hide it as best he could. He couldn't remember how his mother begged him not to join the military, or how his sister wept the day he left. No, all the young 22-year old officer could remember was how he got in this hospital bed. Glancing up, he saw a new nurse hovering above him. He'd dealt with a few since he'd gotten here, and although all of them were nice enough, he was still wanting to 'tough it out' on his own. Even though he'd been shot, he didn't lose his southern charm or sense of humor. And this nurse, well...he couldn't help but fixate his eyes on her, as much as he tried to be a gentleman. "You can attend to one of these other poor saps before me, miss. I'm just dandy." He faked a smile and nod, trying to sit up a little more but wincing a little as he did so.

Honey looked over the new man on the cot. Attractive, she was sure, under all those scratches and bruises. His eyes appeared to be a light color, though in that light it was hard to tell the exact color, green, she assumed. His was hurt pretty badly, just from the look of him. And yet, he tried to move her off to one of the other patients. It was kind of him, and she had to smile, and might just have agreed to do that, if he hadn't tried to sit up. She saw the discomfort and shook her head.

"Oh no." She said as she sat ever so softly on the edge of his bed and lightly laid her hand on his chest, closer to his shoulder. "You shouldn't move." She said in a soft voice as she gave a very soft push to get him on the bed. "You don't look very 'dandy'." she told him, frowning. Definitely from someplace in the South, because they were the only ones that said 'dandy'. With one final soft push she dropped her arm and looked at him.

"Mind telling me whats wrong with you, before I go looking?" She asked him with a sweet smile. "Usually, I don't have the pleasure of being able to ask. But, you are awake, and talking, which is good." The words came out just as she reached forward to put her soft hand on his arm. It made her hand look small, but, since she had small hands, most things made them look small.

Charlie tried to refuse her care in the most gentleman-like way he could, but eventually he had to give in and lay back down with a gentle push from her against his chest and shoulder. The pain was too severe to fight off, and he knew, as much as he'd hate to admit it, that he needed medical care. "Aside from the obvious?" He smirked a little, when she asked what was wrong with him. Sure, his face and arms may have been battered and scratched up, but he was nowhere near as bad looking as a couple of the other guys who had come in, surviving explosions and dealing with third-degree burns.

Slowly, Charlie lifted the blanket that covered his legs -- he was still in his uniform; tattered and torn, and filthy from the battleground. But, that's how they dealt with all the new soldiers coming in, it appeared. He pulled the white sheet away from his legs to reveal where he had been shot, and then put his hand over a spot on his shirt that was completely covered in bandages; something a medic soldier had managed to do for him during the battle. He let out a short groan as he pulled the bandages away, showing the nurse where he'd been shot in the chest. His breathing got naturally heavier to accommodate for the pain. "Miss..." He started, finally able to see the young woman in front of him for more than a nurse. After all, she was beautiful, and he couldn't deny that. "You wouldn't deny giving a wounded soldier your name now, would you?" His southern charm spoke through his injuries, and Charlie never seemed to lose his sarcasm or sense of humor.

Honey's eyes turned from laughing and concerned to serious. The wounds were pretty bad, and it was a surprise he was even talking. Most men who had been shot once had hard enough times getting coherent sentences. This man had been badly wounded. A small smile broke over her lips at his request for her name. "One second you are perfectly fine and now you are using your injuries to get a name out of a lady?" She asked him as she reached forward to a tray that sat on the night table by his bed.

"You can call me, Honey.. Honey Donovan." She told him, flashing a quick smile. "I believe, now, sir, that we should get you out of your uniform before anything else. Then, I must handle your bandaging, then, maybe some pain relief." She said, patting his arm as she stood up. "I hope you cooperate." She commented as she began working off his shirt and bandages. Some men would fight her to the bitter end about their clothes being taken off, others got some weird pleasure out of it. Which he would be, she would find out. But, she pegged him for a fighter.

Charlie offered a faint smile, simply because it was all he could do as he fought through the pain. "I never said I was above sympathy." He responded with a clever slight smirk. He couldn't help but keep that smile to himself when she gave him her name. He'd never heard anyone named Honey before, but somehow, it seemed to fit the girl's beauty and personality. Glancing down before she stood up from his bed, he saw an engagement ring on her finger. It didn't take an expert to figure out her situation simply from that band on her finger. Most young women who were nurses knew someone in the war; either brothers, husbands, or fiances. He kept his mouth shut at that moment though, shaking his head a little as she mentioned him getting out of his uniform.

The 22-year old man would be lying if he denied that it was every man's dream to be 'undressed' by a beautiful woman such as Honey. After all, he was a hot-blooded, young, American male who hadn't experienced the warm touch of a woman since he'd joined the service. He wouldn't disrespect her that way, though. And, a part of him was extremely attached to that uniform. It held everything that had kept him alive and healthy as long as he had. His hand grabbed hers quickly, but not forcefully, as she began to try to take off his shirt. He didn't have a response for her, or a reason for her not to take off that uniform to give her. His eyes looked up at her though. His tired, intense, dark green eyes looked up into her own as if to tell her not to do that.

Honey stopped when she felt his hands stopping her. "I have to do it, sir." She told him, looking down at his hand. Then, when she looked into his eyes, she sighed. It wasn't just modesty or pride. There was something about the uniform that made him want to fight to keep it on. She sighed and sat back down on his bed. "It would be easier for you if I took that off." She told him. "However. If it means that much to you, I can try working around it to bandage..."

Her tone was uneasy, but that didn't mean that she would totally discount what he felt strongly about. "I will just work on bandaging you up." She said, standing back up and gathering the dressings she would need. "My father will be over here in a bit to make sure that you are doing alright. So if you have any worries, bring it up to him."

Charlie had to give the young woman credit. She was patient with his stubborn nature, when he knew the rumors about tent nurses were quite the opposite. They were all 'stubborn' and 'didn't care about anything'. Those were the overheard mumbles during down time on camp. He shook his head a little as she stood back up to gather the bandages she was about to put on him. Thinking for a minute, he slowly reached his hands down to tug at the fabric of his shirt, though that same wince of pain managed to escape his lips. "Alright.." He breathed, defeated. "You...you know what you're doing, I should let you do it. Might need some help getting out of this, though." He tried to laugh a little, but as his quiet laughter began, it turned into a slight cough.

Something about Charlie was attached to his uniform, so after she managed to take the shirt off his body, he made sure to keep it next to his bed. He wasn't about to lose it. His chest had a gunshot wound, just under his heart, followed by cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his skin. His eyes shifted over to the man she called her father -- only because he had to force himself to concentrate on other things to distract himself from the pain. He never liked showing people the pain he was in, and he still knew there were men worse off than him in there. "Your father...he's the doctor, then?" He managed to spit out the sentence between breaths as her delicate hands bandaged the wound. He knew she was doing it as gently as she could, but he didn't think anything could have made it feel remotely better at that point.

((Sorry about last night. I couldn't concentrate. >.<))

Honey nodded when he gave her permission to remove his uniform and worked slowly at getting it off. Instead of throwing it away, since she knew that the clothes were so important to him, the blonde nurse simply folded them and put them down under his bed. Giving him a quick smile, she quickly looked over his wounds and grimaced, before beginning work on bandaging him so that he didn't get an infection.

"He is." She said with a nod. "A good one too. But, that might just be a daughters biased opinion." She tried to joke lightly, not wanting him to laugh and hurt himself. "He's the big reason that I'm helping here." She flashed him another smile. "I heard him say I was the hospital's morale booster." She said with a soft laugh. "He sees more in me than there is." A shrug came after that statement, and she was finished with his chest.

"Here, have some water and relax a bit before I go to your leg." She told him, moving to the basin to get him a glass of water. When she brought it back over, she just held it out to him, guessing that he was going to be stubborn and not let her help.

((Haha, no worries at all!))

"Well at least you think is good. I haven't heard any screams coming from that table he's at now, so I'll take your word for it." Charlie grinned a little, trying to hid the fact that every slight movement she made against his chest caused pain. He watched her as she worked, though, knowing that she knew what she was doing.

"A morale booster?" That grin on Charlie's lips grew slightly as he glanced around at the other men in beds next to him. "Well I would say so, in this environment. Don't take offense, miss, but you're strikingly beautiful. Whoever the lucky soldier is who got that band around your finger will be a happy man." He nodded his head toward her hand as she finished working on his chest.

He nodded in agreement as she handed him a glass of water. "Thank you." He started, taking a quick drink from the glass. "You waiting for him to get back?" He asked the girl bluntly, regarding the man she was supposed to be with -- Charlie was never really one to hold his tongue on anything, and it sometimes got him in trouble -- but it still didn't stop him.

((http://www.roleplaygateway.com/forbidden-t33164.html This is something you may or may not be interested in. ^.^ It's looking for boys.))

Honey smiled at his comment about her father. The man didn't have a light touch, but he knew what he was doing. Mostly, the soldiers tried to stay quiet, so as not to worry the other men in the beds. When things got loud was when Honey or one of the other nurses was called to help. It only happened a few times a day, so she supposed it was lucky.

She blushed at him saying she was beautiful and waved that off. "Here, being beautiful shouldn't matter. I'm here to do a job." Still, she smiled shyly. "Thank you though." Looking at her finger, her smile faded. He'd asked about her fiance, and it wasn't something that was usually brought up. Usually her ring was ignored.

"I am." She said, grabbing some more bandages to keep her hands busy. "I haven't gotten anything from him in a long while." She told him, sighing sadly. "I suppose it's just my mind wandering, but I am worried. Though, I know that if anything were to happen, I would be informed."

((Thanks, I'll check it out!!))

"Well you're doing a damn good one. Doesn't make you any less beautiful, though." He nodded slightly, reassuring her. He saw her expression changed as she looked down at the ring on her finger, and he realized it probably wasn't the best idea to bring it up. The young woman saw injured soldiers every single day -- he knew it'd probably be impossible for her not to think of her own with each new injured man coming in.

Charlie immediately saw her trying to keep herself busy, and her thoughts elsewhere. He shook his head a little. "Hey, I'm sorry for bringing it up. Sometimes my head doesn't know how to keep up with my mouth." He offered a weak smile. "You're right now, you'd hear about it if anything were wrong. I'm sure he's just fine." With another slight nod, Charlie decided to keep his mouth shut on the subject. Not only did it seem to bother Honey, but the last thing he wanted to do was talk about a beautiful, and seemingly smart and caring girl's fiance.

"Any idea how long your old man is going to keep me here in this bed?" His sarcastic nature came back, and he slowly finished up the small cup of water she'd given him, holding onto the cup afterward.

Honey nodded, and went to work on his leg, trying to be careful. Thinking of Derek was not something that she liked to do at work, because it always made her sad. She hadn't gotten anything from him in weeks, when she used to get something almost everyday. She always tried to assure herself that he was fine. There was nothing wrong with her fiance, and nothing was going to happen to him. But, no one was talking, and it worried her.

She gave a soft laugh at his question about getting out of the bed. "I'm sure we will want to see how your leg looks before you can even think about getting up." She said, offering him a sweet smile. "Then, I don't know. I suppose it depends on how much you want out of this bed." She told him, slowly lifting his leg. "I'm sorry." She said, because she knew that had to smart.

"Soon. Very soon." Charlie was determined to get up and get on with his life as quickly as possible. He knew his chances of returning to the war were slim to none in his condition, but he was devoted to his job, and he began to wonder if these injuries would keep him out of the military altogether. He tried to shake those thoughts from his head, not knowing what else he would be able to do with his life. "I want to get out right now, but I suppose you're going to fight me on that."

He grimaced a little, his eyes closing as he drew in a breath when Honey moved his leg. "What for?" He smirked a little, speaking through clenched teeth. "Didn't...hurt at all." He may have been sarcastic, but he was a bad liar, so he didn't even pretend to be a good one. He let out that breath though, as she began working on his leg. It stung, more than anything, but he was lucky to be here, not rotting out in some field like he'd seen so many soldiers do before him. "You look too young to be workin' around all this stuff, anyway. How old are ya?" His dark green eyes looked down at her as she bandaged his leg, trying to distract himself from the fact that she was beautiful, and seemed genuine and kind-hearted. It was just as she said -- she was here to do a job.

Honey had let her mind drift away from Derek and continued working on the soldier's leg. "Good. I don't want to see you around here for too long." She said in a joking manner, flashing him a quick smile that showed she was only joking. "I don't like seeing any of you men around here. It just seems wrong." She explained, her head dropping again as she worked.

When he asked her how old she was, she shrugged, standing back up straight, having finished his leg. "Twenty." She told him. "Don't look a day older than nineteen, right?" She teased, shaking her head, some loose hair already falling against her face. "I do this to help my father, and to help. I don't like that people are dying because of lack of help." She explained, moving back to the tray. She was about to give him some pain medicine, but since it would be his first evaluation with her father, she thought it better to wait.

"What about you? And I don't think I caught your name." She said, smiling again. She wished she could give him the medication right then, but knew better of it.

"I'll be out of your hair soon, I promise." That familiar smirk returned, offering a joke right back to her. He could only nod a little as she explained she didn't like seeing any of the wounded soldiers there. He had to give her credit -- not everyone, especially every woman, do what she was doing. And even if it was mostly for her father, she had to see things each day that many people wouldn't be able to handle.

"Twenty." He repeated with a slow nod of his head. "You look good for your age, then." And again, he grinned, unable to hide his playful nature even through the pain he was experiencing. After she finished with his leg, Charlie laid back down all the way. It seemed pathetic after all he'd gone through, but just holding the top half of his body up for that long, was painful. He tried not to let that feeling make him feel like less of a man, or less of a soldier. If anything, it made him all the more determined to get the hell out of this place.

"Sergeant Charles Driscoll." He said matter-of-factly, almost bringing his hand to his forehead in a salute, strictly out of habit. "My friends just call me Charlie. So you can consider yourself a friend, Miss."

"Pleasure to meet you, Charlie." Honey said with a smile, patting his arm. "And you can call me Honey." She said, giving him a quick wink. "If I can consider myself a friend, you can do the same." She could feel a hand pulling at her skirt and looked back to see her niece Vera pulling to get her attention.

"Uncle Sammy needs you." the blonde little girl said. She looked at Charlie for a second and loudly whispered. "Is he hurt?" Honey laughed softly and freed her skirt from the girl's grip.

"Charlie, this is Vera. Vera, this is Charlie, and maybe, if you are really nice, he will tell you what's wrong with him." She flashed him a look and mouthed 'in vague details'. "But remember, be gentle." The girl was only about four, and was fascinated by all things military. "Would you excuse me?" She asked as she was backing away. "I'll be back in a little bit."

Then, she turned and hurried to help her father with one of the men that would need an amputation. Her heart beat funnily in her chest as she hurried away, thinking about Charlie.

((Sorry I haven't responded -- I was out of town for the weekend))

Charlie only smiled a little as Honey told him to consider her a friend as well. He could use a friend or two in his current condition, and although he was sure she was doing it just to be nice, it was still nice to hear. He wouldn't get a chance to respond though, as a young girl suddenly came up to Honey, tugging at her skirt a little. Charlie raised an eyebrow in confusion, but was quickly reassured that the little girl was supposed to be there, and that Honey knew her. He smirked, overhearing the little girl's question about him.

As he was introduced to the little girl, Charlie did his best to treat her like a "lady". "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Vera." He nodded, before catching Honey's subtle hint to keep things vague. After she left, leaving Charlie with Vera, he had to smile at the child. He'd always been good with kids, mostly because when he didn't have to be so serious, he was a big kid himself. "You think they're gonna be able to fix me up here?" He asked her, a reassuring smile on his face that would let her know he really was ok. Well, compared to some of the other men there. Two gunshot wounds weren't necessarily something to be taken lightly, but like Honey had said, vague details were probably best around the little girl.

Vera smiled at the soldier and hopped onto his bed, kneeling by his legs. "Of course they can. My Uncle, Dr. Sammy is the best doctor ever!" She boasted, looking over the soldier. "What happened to you?" She asked him, tucking her legs under her and looking him straight in the eyes. She held a degree of intelligence that was uncommon for a girl of her age. Maybe it was all the injured and dead she'd seen in her short life, or maybe she was just smart.

Honey hurried to her father as the soldier started fighting. He knew what was going to happen, and he didn't like it. She began to clean all that her father would need while to other nurses and a healthier soldier held the man down. It was only a few minutes until her father was ready, and Honey was standing by the sterilized instruments, watching what was happening for the signs of what her father would need.

It was hard for Charlie to tell Vera what happened, without providing more than vague ideas. He couldn't deny her curiosity, though, as she jumped up onto his bed. "Well, I got a little too close to the bad guys, and took a couple shots." He was surprised she was so calm in this sort of environment, so it was pretty clear the little girl had been around this kind of stuff for quite awhile now. She probably could tell what happened to him just by looking at his freshly-bandaged wounds, but he'd tell her anyway. Details, he would leave out. He didn't even want to remember them, even though it seemed like every time he closed his eyes for more than a minute all he could do was replay that scene in his head.

His eyes shifted over toward Honey and her father as they worked on another soldier, and he had to wince a little seeing what he was going through. It only reminded him more of the different men he saw injured out on the battlefield, and he had to turn his attention away, looking back at Vera. "So, you probably know a lot about all this. Think your aunt did a good job with these bandages?" He joked, motioning down to his leg.