Scott nodded. “Very good, then.” He turned to Brown. “Now, shall we return to where we were before this... diversion took place?”

"Of course sir." He turned to return to the dorms. When they were gone Win turned to George, and punched him soundly in the arm.

George yelped, but quieted as he stared after the general and Brown before turning to Win. “So what happened with Old Fuss and Feathers?” he asked, eyes wide.

He glared at the receding figure of Brown for a moment, before looking at George. "Wouldn't you like to know."

He turned and picked up the empty crate, ready to return it to where it should be.

"What are we going to do about the shed?" Lo asked, looking at it. It was in sad shape.

He shrugged, placed the crate some feet from the doorway. "It will have to be repaired I suppose, we don't have the materials or tools to do it though."

“Well, he obviously didn’t throw you out,” George stated doggedly.

"You don't know that." He said cryptically to George, turning from the crate he brushed dirt from his hair.

George’s eyebrows flew up. “He didn’t, did he?”

"It was me who destroyed the shed anyway," Lo said, "They can't throw Win out for that."

"They could throw me out for that though." He gestured to the ruined caisson and limber box. He stopped, glanced sidelong at the older cadet with an expression that could be read either way. "This is killing you isn't it."

“Perhaps,” George replied cryptically.

Lo smirked as he looked at George for a moment.

He brushed his shirt off, said nonchalantley. "He let it go."

George blinked. “I seem to have become a trifle deaf from the explosion, it seems, for I may have misheard you just now.”

Gene, still standing stiff as a possum, finally broke out of his frightened daze and caught up with the others, blinking.

"Which part?" Win said without looking at George, "Let? Or go?"

Lo started laughing, although he didn't say anything. He looked at George, a grin on his face. "Well, I guess we have to thank you for almost getting us in trouble. I don't think I really like fireworks anymore."

"...They don't really connect you to trouble, do they?", Gene asked mildly, glancing towards John.

..

"Heh...Heh...too bad, I s'pose, aye?" Allard approached Brown from behind, his normal glassy grin now expressingbemusement at the students' antics, almost.

George shook his head, looking at Win. “And how did you pull that escape off, may I ask?”

John shook his head. "No, they don't."

------

Lo glanced at Win also, a smile still on his face.

Gene had by this time realized that his rommmate wasn't very talkative...Maybe he was just shy around people he didn't know, he supposed. "It was awesome though, wasn't it?"

Win walked a little straighter, rolled up his sleeve that had fallen down. That must have looked good, and smirked slightly, "All in the name, Mr. Pickett. It's all in the name."

"Yes." John had to agree that it was interesting to watch to a point.

-----

"How could he not let you off?" Lo asked grinning, "After all you two do share a name!"

“Aha!” George smirked. “Which brings up another question. Why did you not divulge this tidbit of information to your companions?”

"Scary though...", he mused quietly.

He finished putting himself back in order, or the best order he could get right now, and looked at George, eyes half lidded in an expression of are you serious? "Do you really need to ask George?"

John shrugged. "Not really."

-----

"Well, it isn't an awful name..." Lo said, grinning. "Your parents named you after someone famous."

George looked thoughtful for a moment. “Very well, then,” he conceded, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

"They really set the standards high with that one." He rubbed his face, black powder not coming off.

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