Hey! AssassinOfRome here with a new Blackadder fanfic! As you can guess I love George; he's my favorite character so here's a story about him. There aren't enough George stories out there so I'm improvising! Very very short but I promise it'll get longer. Enjoy! AOR

I hated days like the one this story starts on. I hated standing out in the mud and the cold and the rain waiting for orders that I personally didn't want and wouldn't ever come. I wanted to be at home, by the fire drinking some QUALITY (yes I'm talking to you, Baldrick!) coffee and reading my novel. In reality I was stuck in the trenches, where the nearest fire was behind enemy lines, the coffee tasted like mud and the only thing to read was the telegrams from Darling. I really envied the bastard but I would never tell him that. Call me proud but I think I've got more respect for myself than that. I sighed, rubbing my arms to try and gain some heat through friction. My uniform certainly wasn't living up to its expectations.

"Are you cold, sir?"

"No George. I'm boiling." I replied sarcastically. For once he actually picked up on the sarcasm (maybe I was rubbing off on him) and removed his coat.

"Here. Have my coat. I'm actually quite toasty." Before I could say anything in argument, he shoved the soft material into my arms. I slipped it on over my jacket and did up the buttons. The rain fell harder and the wind whistled through the barbed wire. Hours passed and I was still shivering under George's coat. I glanced at my watch. 11.45.

"We may as well go back inside now. These orders are never going to come."

"Alright then, Captain." Baldrick smiled. We trooped back into the dug-out. I shrugged George's coat off my shoulders and hung it up on the peg.

"Good night, Captain." Baldrick pulled his bedcovers over his chest and began to snore.

"Good night Baldrick. Good night George." I replied, clambering onto my own bunk. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George shake his wet hair like a dog. He was soaked from head to toe. He lay down elegantly. Well as elegantly as an ungraceful six-foot man could.

"Good night, Cap. Good night Balders."