Hey, it's an update! I'm at 50K! Have a new chapter! Hartman gets the package.

Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.

- o – o -

Chapter three: Devil's Right Hand

Corporal Tom Hartman sat in his room, staring at the wall. He was bored. There was nothing to do. His lighter had been taken away from him again. (Hey, it wasn't his fault the uniforms here were so flammable.) He sighed and leaned back against the padded wall, trying to find a new pattern in the blank white wall in front of him. He wasn't having much luck.

His doctor hadn't been too impressed with his latest bout of pyromania, and had sent him back to his cell (alright, it was called a room to keep some of the other patients here calm, but it was a cell no matter how it was dressed up). Hartman had been given a new prescription, but the corporal wasn't counting on it working too well. The others that had been tried hadn't worked—hell, Hartman knew he didn't need them. Well, not all of them, anyways. The lithium was definitely helping, as were the anti-anxiety meds. Everything else was just a waste of time and taxpayer money.

One of the orderlies came into the room, deposited an envelope on his cot, and left. Hartman shrugged, rolling his neck as he stood up. The vertebrae popped loudly in the silent room, sounding a bit like gunfire. He grinned and picked the package up.

Hartman looked at the pictures in the package (newly arrived from Sergeant Hanson, which said lots of nice things about a pesky gag order that no longer existed) and laughed. Ah, the things officers got up to when their men weren't there to look after them…

He stared at them for a good long while, analyzing every bit of each image he had. No way… Corporal Hartman grinned and snickered. A few minutes later, he was rolling on the floor, laughing like a maniac. Oh, Captain Faraday…

After he managed to stop laughing, Hartman headed to his cell door. He needed some mailing supplies.

Hopefully his psychiatrist would take the interest in correspondence as a good sign…

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So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Will this cause Vince psychological trauma? Drop a line and let me know!

Author's note: I need more hobbies. Am at 50K on the NaNo, which means I'm halfway done! WOOOOO! Wish me luck!