Author's Note: I have recently been introduced to the wonderful little show of F Troop. It was one of those times where I was watching an episode and suddenly I thought, "I wonder if there is any good fanfiction for this." Needless to say, I was pretty disappointed when I logged on here to and realized that there was only ONE story that was even remotely related to F Troop! So I took it upon myself to write an F Troop fanfic. Now, I call on all of the closet F Troop fans to come forth and help me explore this oh-so promising world of F Troop fanfiction! I can't do this alone. I hope you fans will be able to enjoy this story, but I also hope that you will feel inspired to write your own and share them with the rest of us. I look forward to reading your great stories in the future. Until then, enjoy!

Deep breath in...deep breath we go!

People thought he was oblivious, or blind, or dense. People thought he didn't see her. But he saw her alright. Boy did he see her. If he seemed unaware, it was only because he wasn't quite sure what to make of her at first. She wasn't much like any other woman he had encountered in Philadelphia. She didn't look like those women. She didn't act like those women. She didn't even sound like those women. She was rough and brash and oh so forthcoming, and her obvious interest in him caught him by surprise (to say the least).

Growing up in a family such as his, a family with so much history and renown, he was accustomed to a certain circle of social standing. The ladies in Philadelphia were so…what was the word…proper? Yes, that was it. They were proper. They did everything the proper way. They ate properly. They spoke properly. They danced properly. And with that sense of propriety, an underlying sense of superiority was always brewing beneath those laced Mantua gowns. For such delicate ladies, who prided themselves in their outstanding humility and who strove always for reasonable charity to those less fortunate, their noses and chins certainly had an inclination towards inclination. Even among those of their own social class, these women seemed to peer down on everyone else. Perhaps that is why he always felt slightly repelled by the lovely ladies his mother hoped so fervently he would marry. Even in a courtship, he still had the impression that the woman didn't think very highly of him, like she was disappointed in herself for "settling" for him.

But this girl…this girl was different. She seemed to place some sort of value in him the very moment they met, and she wasn't shy about advertising the fact. That sort of attention, that sort of outright approval was something of a rarity to him, and he would be lying if he said it didn't surprise him at first. But it was a good feeling…and it piqued a fascination in him.

He would observe her in the days that followed, and at every scene she would impress him or interest him on a new level. Her youthful spirit was rejuvenating and her enthusiasm inspiring. She was the first of the townspeople to really reach out and make an effort to know him upon his arrival and somehow, that initiative on her part had done much to warrant a sense of friendly affection from him. He knew he had his duty at the fort, and this always came first in his mind, but he seized any opportunity life afforded him to spend time with her. He enjoyed her company immensely, though his best logic couldn't identify the exact reason. More than anything else, he attributed it to that friendly affection and the pleasant feeling of being genuinely liked by someone. It wasn't until their fourth meeting that he began to notice another reason.

She had invited him on a picnic for lunch and they had managed to find a nice secluded spot on the outskirts of town. They had barely made progress on their sandwiches when light raindrops began to fall all around them. They each looked up into the sky. The otherwise blue sky had been marred only by a single grey cloud that had loomed directly over them.

"Shoot! That there rain cloud snuck up on us better than a rabbit in slippers!" she had said.

His face fell in disappointment. "Oh…and we only just got started," he had complained, looking around at the lovely picnic setup. Then after a shrug, he started clearing the blanket and putting the items of food back into the basket. But his hands had only closed the jar of jam before she had stilled them.

"What are you doin'?" she asked.

"Packing up," he had answered factually.

"What for?"

Puzzled, he glanced up at the tied horses. "Well, if we hurry, we can make it back to town before the storm sets in."

She had laughed, pointing up at the sky. "That ain't no storm! That's just a little ol' rain cloud cryin' for its mama. It won't last more than ten minutes."

Still puzzled, he looked up into the sky and had been met with a large raindrop in the eye. He dipped his head and tried to blink away the moisture. "Aren't you worried about getting wet?" he asked, wiping his eye and warping his mouth into strange positions the way everyone does when they try to get something out of their eye.

"Aw shoot," she had said, retrieving her hat from its place against her back and tightening the strap up under her chin. "The Good Lord made folk waterproof for just such an occasion!" she announced.

He too had put on his hat, not anxious to get another raindrop in his eye. He looked down at the sandwich in his hand. "The bread will get soggy," he mused.

"Not if we eat 'em quick!" and she took a huge bite, giggling at the piece of tomato that hung from her mouth.

He had watched her, amused by the way her cheeks bulged to fit the giant morsel. With a slightly crooked smile, he had sat there in the rain, studying this woman who fascinated him so much. And it was at that moment that he noticed something else. Her optimism, her carefree attitude, her spunk…they all inspired another feeling in him. In addition to the fascination, the friendly affection, there was something else too…attraction. That was the first time he really felt himself becoming attracted to her. And he knew that, if he wasn't careful, he could see himself getting carried away with this one.

Only a few short days later, he was convinced further of his attraction to her. They had gone on their first dinner picnic. It was amazing the difference sunlight, or lack thereof, could make in that sort of situation. Alone, out in the wilderness, under the stars, the picnic proved a much more romantic affair than any of the previous meals. Despite her rugged apparel, he could not deny that she looked absolutely stunning in the moonlight. The moonbeams hit her hair with a soft glow, and her eyes seemed to shimmer in the starlight. He had kissed her that night, or rather, she had kissed him, and the sensation he experienced in those kisses had been enough to convince him of his feelings for her. He could not readily explain it, but there was something about this girl that made him ache with pleasure. That night changed everything.

Now, it wasn't as though he could put some sort of "property of" stamp across her forehead. So naturally, other fine gentlemen came periodically to Fort Courage and immediately became interested in her. In most cases, due to military curtsey, there was little he could do but stand by and watch it happen time and time again. And he did watch. He watched with intense scrutiny every time another man touched her or so much as looked at her. He wouldn't be able to describe the sense of masculine territorialism and protectiveness that would overcome him every time he saw another man with her. With every flirtatious remark, ogling gaze, and dopy grin, his blood would boil just a little bit more. Sometimes it was too much for him to take and he would intervene somehow. Sometimes he was even convinced that she only allowed such interactions in order to make him jealous. But regardless of the reason, she was his girl and any man with one eye open should be able to see that. At least he hoped they would see that and that they would also see the invisible sign over her head that read "hands off". But unfortunately, most men didn't seem to heed that sign, and it was enough to send his territorial senses reeling.

But maybe he didn't have the right to lay claim on her. After all, it wasn't as though they had openly announced their courtship to the entire town or anything that drastic. No, there's was something of an unspoken relationship. Maybe that appeared cowardly to some, but he preferred it that way. For appearances sake, considering his position in the fort, it was better that he maintain a sense of respect and authority among both the civilians of the area and the troops themselves. But she didn't seem to understand his desire for discretion. She commonly took to kissing him in public places, obviously caring very little for what appearance it might give. Those were always conflicting moments for him. On the one hand, no man could deny the pleasure of her kisses. She had an affinity for the swift, breath-taking variety of kisses and they always left him a little stunned. But at the same time, he had always been raised with a sense of propriety which said that those expressions of tender affection were best left to private places, away from observing eyes. He couldn't help but be a little embarrassed whenever she initiated what would otherwise be an intimate moment in front of other people, particularly his men. But in private, he had no aversion to her romantic attentions at all. Not a single objection.

A knock came to his door, jarring him from his musing, and he bid the visitor enter. She strode into the room with purpose and the ever-present enthusiasm to her step.

"Hiya, Wilton!" she said perkily, marching over to him as he sat at his desk. She stooped to wrap her arms around his chest and planted a firm kiss to his cheek.

He smiled and reached a hand up to pat her arm gently. "Hi Janie," he said, turning to face her as best he could while sitting down.

She stole another quick kiss before asking, "You ready for our walk?"

"You bet," he answered with a nod.

She smiled and headed towards the door while he stood to grab his hat. Yes, there was something special about this girl, something he couldn't name…but he didn't have to. All Wilton Parmenter knew was that she was special…and he loved her.

"Hey…" she said slowly with suspicion in her voice. "Why've you got that goofy smile on your face?"

He shrugged, "No reason," and held open the door.

There it is. I hope you enjoyed it. Watching the show, I sort of fell in love with Ken Berry just a little, so it felt natural to have the story center around Captain Parmenter and Jane. I think they are so adorable on the show, so I hope I captured their characters well here. Anyway, thanks for reading! And reviews would be appreciated as always. Thanks!