Code name: Ishq

The mess hall buzzed with an undercurrent of anticipation that had nothing to do with the standard military dinner being served. Conversations flowed in overlapping streams between the two tables where the medical team and remaining military officers sat, but every few minutes, someone would glance at their watch or toward the entrance, as if expecting something significant to happen.

Dr. Yamini Singh sat with her characteristic theatrical posture, gesticulating wildly as she described her latest encounter with what she insisted was a conspiracy of inanimate objects determined to injure her. "I'm telling you, that filing cabinet deliberately extended its drawer when I walked past. It has a personal vendetta against my shins."

Dr. Aditya Kapoor nearly choked on his rice. "Yamini, you realize filing cabinets don't have consciousness, right?"

"Says the man who named his stethoscope 'Raj Kumar' and talks to it during difficult diagnoses," Yamini shot back, earning laughs from around both tables.

Captain Arjun Sharma watched her performance with careful attention. Over the past thirty days, he'd become something of an expert at reading the subtle signs beneath Yamini's elaborate humor. Tonight, her jokes were slightly more frantic than usual, her gestures a touch more dramatic. She was working harder to entertain everyone, which meant she was working harder to distract herself.

"The real question," Dr. Neha Patel interjected, "is whether you're going to blame the tarmac when you inevitably trip during the welcome."

Captain Vikram Singh looked up from his conversation with Dr. Rishi Malhotra about cricket statistics. "Speaking of which, shouldn't we start heading over? He'll be landing in about an hour."

The casual mention sent a ripple of awareness through both groups. Dr. Priya Sharma straightened in her seat, suddenly conscious of her appearance. Aditya ran a hand through his hair, while Rishi pushed his glasses up his nose. Even Arjun and Captain Rohan Nair seemed to shift subtly, the easy camaraderie of the past month giving way to the anticipation of their leader's return.

"Are you coming, Yamini?" Neha asked, though something in her tone suggested she already suspected the answer.

Yamini didn't miss a beat. "Actually, I have very important plans tonight. I'm finally going to watch Action Replayy."

The collective groan from her medical team was audible across the mess hall.

"You cannot possibly watch that movie," Neha said, her voice filled with the horror of someone who had clearly suffered through it before. "It's literally painful. I'm a doctor, and I'm telling you it will cause actual physical harm."

"Nonsense," Yamini replied with her characteristic dramatic flair. "Aditya Roy Kapoor is a perfectly valid reason to watch any movie, no matter how terrible. The man could read a telephone directory and make it compelling."

Dr. Priya covered her face with her hands. "She's actually going to do it. She's going to voluntarily subject herself to that disaster of a film."

"I've survived medical school, residency, and thirty days of morning PT with our beloved Captain Rohan's 'motivational' commentary," Yamini said, gesturing toward Rohan, who had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "I think I can handle a badly written romantic comedy."

Vikram leaned back in his chair, studying her with those perceptive eyes that had made him such an effective strategist. "You know, for someone who claims to have such terrible taste in movies, you sure seem to pick the worst ones at very specific times."

There was a moment of silence where Yamini's mask almost slipped. Almost. But she recovered with the skill of someone who had spent months perfecting the art of deflection.