Elvis came awake in the darkened, airless room. He knew he was alone, his sixth sense working overtime. He could hear the bustle of the camp outside the door. He stretched out in the uncomfortable cot. But God knows he'd slept in worse places during his tours and even during training but where he really wanted to be was back on his flat, in London, in his queen sized bed with the 800 count sheets, soft pillows and woolen quilt. When you slept everywhere from the dry and dusty earth with a stone pillow to mud and filth, if you could afford the luxury of good bedding on your own bed it made you appreciate it twice as much.

The ache of the bullet wound in his side was still pricking him every now and then. He felt much stronger than the first days afterward the surgery but he was still not as physically strong as before. He had been warned not to overdo it and Georgie had just flipped when he turned up at the camp.

Elvis knew that he should get up. Georgie would be out there somewhere in the seething body of the camp providing medical care and compassion to some poor, suffering soul. Mind you she hadn't been so kind and compassionate to him when he first stepped out from behind the truck.

Since he'd arrived five weeks ago he had been her self-appointed bodyguard. He was usually with her no matter what or where she went; the clinic, the myriad of tents, the medical outposts. He thought of himself as her insurance policy against any trouble she might run into, headfirst knowing Georgie. He always had his sidearm strapped on just in case.

Elvis knew however that Georgie saw him only as her personal lackey at the moment. "Elvis, I need the med kit from the truck, can you go get it please? Elvis, can you lift her? I need to check her leg. Elvis, you need to stop playing with the kids and help me move the supplies."

He smiled to himself, the fact that he was here with her was enough, that she had given him the smallest of chances to fix what he had broken. Things had improved between them since the day he had arrived on the truck with the medical supplies. That day hadn't been great, yeah, they'd kissed but everything was far from perfect.

She'd pushed him away at the end of the kiss. Her eyes had been lit with something between anger, fear and passion. "You can't just turn up here, kiss me and think everything will go back to the way it was Elvis. It don't work like that!" She'd stepped away from him and turned her attention to the newly arrived and much needed supply trucks.

"I know Georgie," he'd walked over and stood in front of her, putting his hands on her shoulders "I know. I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you and I need to earn your trust again. I'm sorry!" He'd smiled at her gently "Can you at least let me try to make it up to you? I realise I have a big job ahead of me but can you let me try?"

Georgie had shrugged her shoulders and chewed on her lower lip a little. She'd wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold. But they were there together standing under the golden sun of the Kenyan skies. Georgie had sighed and asked "Elvis, why? Why should I let you? You hurt me."

"Because I'm truly sorry. And I love you, Georgie. Always have, always will." Elvis gave her one of his trademark smiles.

Georgie had looked at him. The one thing she knew about Elvis without a doubt, was that he was no liar. He maybe a lot of other things and she could name a few but he was never that. So if he ever said anything it was always the truth. She was still angry at him. But not just angry, she was hurt, her pride had been crushed. She'd arrived for the wedding ceremony, the guests all seated waiting for the bride and the groom to arrive.

Then Charles turns up, poor bloody Charles, shoved in the middle of the mess. If there had been one good thing to come out of it all, it was her friendship with Charles and then with Molly, one of her staunchest allies. Molly was the one person besides her CO who understood about her need to return to Kenya and the camp.

Charles had initially tried to talk her out it but had eventually come round after Molly had jumped on her side. Her parents weren't happy about it but that hadn't stopped her. And she hadn't told Elvis. She'd just disappeared when his family arrived at the hospital with the excuse of wedding stuff, or non wedding stuff, to sort out. But then Spanner knew, some how tracking her with out her knowledge, well until he had rung to she if she knew where Elvis was. As it turned out he was on a plane to Kenya and Georgie.

Then suddenly people were calling Georgie's name and she'd was gone. Elvis had grabbed his kit and thrown it over his shoulder. He'd walked toward the medical centre as Nafula came out the door to inspect the shipment of supplies. She looked at him and shook her head. She came over to meet him, knowing exactly who he was and why he was there.

"You had better not upset Georgie." Nafula had said to him sternly "And you had better not be coming and stirring up trouble for the people here."

Elvis had thrown his bag down next to the door under the verandah and smiled at Nafula "I have no intention of doing anything other than talking to Georgie. And I'm Elvis by the way." Nafula looked him up and down and had crossed her arms in front of her chest. She seemed very unimpressed by him, not something he was used to, women all seemed to fall for his charms too easily.

He realised then that neither Georgie nor Nafula were going to be won over by an easy smile and a wink. So he turned on his heel and headed toward the supply trucks. He joined everyone else helping to unload the much needed medicines and other supplies.

Georgie had seen him carrying one of the heavy boxes. She'd made a beeline for him. "What are you doing? You had a bloody bullet in you, now your carrying boxes. Do you want to kill yourself?" Elvis had rolled his eyes at her. For someone who said she wanted nothing to do with him, she was going out of her way to make sure he was ok.

"I'm ok Georgie. Don't fuss. The doc said I was fine to leave hospital."

"I bet he didn't say you were fine to travel to Kenya and to carry heavy boxes?!"

"No, but...". Georgie had quickly turned away from him and walked off muttering something to herself. He did however catch the words 'idiot' and 'cockwomble' before she was too far away for him to hear anything else.

One of the other workers had shown him a place where he could sleep. The same place he woke up in this morning. But not tomorrow if he managed to pull off his grand plan. He dragged himself from his cot, scrubbing his hand over his face, feeling the three days of stubble there. It would be different tonight. God how he was looking forward to it.