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howling-harpy · 5 years ago

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Lewis in Wonderland

[Sequel to How are you, stranger?] Pairing: Winters/Nixon Rating: G Warnings: Liberties taken with music that technically hasn’t been published yet. Word count: 11 220

Summary: After not seeing each other for five years, Dick invites Lewis for a visit for midsummer. Lewis hopes to fix things between them, but when he arrives there is a woman by Dick’s side. Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction based on the HBO drama series and the actors’ portrayals in it. This has nothing to do with any real person represented in the series, and means no disrespect.

Lewis craved a drink more than he had in years as he stared out into the Pennsylvanian scenery out of the bus window. His hands refused to sit in his lap, he couldn’t concentrate on his travel book, and there was sweat brimming on his brow that had nothing to do with the midsummer’s heat. He kept telling himself he didn’t need the drink – not that he carried a flask nowadays anyway – and used his suitcase as a makeshift table to play solitaire to keep his restless hands busy.

In just a few hours he was going to see Dick for the first time in five years. Considering that it had been so long already, one would think that waiting for a few more hours would go by like nothing, but instead for Lewis it felt like they were stretching into an eternity. He had a constant anxious twist in his stomach that made him slightly nauseous. He had no idea what to expect at all, not from this trip, from himself or from Dick. They had spoken exactly twice during their time apart, that one night when Lewis had drunkenly called him and the morning after when Lewis had called again, hungover and his heart in his throat. The past year following those two phone calls had been filled with letters, and Lewis had pushed himself to keep up with the correspondence. He had taken every opportunity to show Dick how much he had improved and how much he cared with a clear mission plan of reconnecting in his mind, but any grand confessions of love had been even hinted at since than drunken night. From time to time Lewis wondered if his confession had mattered at all. Maybe the time for that had passed already, maybe he had missed that particular train to his happily ever after, but at least Dick had once again proved himself nothing but forgiving and generous in how he was willing to write to him so often and be friends again. Lewis stared out into the distance, endlessly shuffling the cards in his hands and forced himself to recognize that just salvaging their friendship would already be more than he deserved. He had to recognize the possibility that they might never be the same as they had been in their twenties in the service. Maybe their friendship had been a product of proximity, special circumstances and youth. Dick might still be the same, but he was certainly more mature and focused on his career, and Lewis too had definitely morphed into a completely different person, more than once. Maybe Dick wouldn’t even know him as he was now. Still, Lewis allowed a daydream to drift into his mind. He dreamed how he would step out of the bus and Dick would be there on the platform waiting for him. Dick would grin at him, say “going my way?”, then throw his arms around Lewis, embrace him tightly and then whisper in his ear “I missed you, Lew.” Dick had invited him over to his hometown to stay at his house so that was a good sign, but it was at the same time as his mother. His mother on the other hand had invited herself over, so Dick might have originally wanted for Lewis and him to be alone, but Lewis didn’t know and couldn’t ask. The visit might have been about testing if they still knew each other and if they could be friends, or it could have been about finally pursuing what they had kept between each other for the longest time. Lewis had no way of knowing, and the trip just went on and on. He was so thirsty and really wanted that comforting kick of whiskey, but instead shuffled the cards again. Finally after the longest hour in Lewis’ life, the bus pulled over to the station in Hershey. Almost squishing his nose against the window Lewis scanned the crowd on the platform and indeed spotted Dick among others. He was the most ordinary sight in his plain, light summer slacks and a short-sleeved blue shirt, his now only barely reddish hair neatly combed back, but still Lewis felt drawn to him like on instinct. He knew that posture, he knew that tilt of a hip, he knew the way he angled his head just a little bit to the side when he was loitering around. The bus stopped and people got up. Lewis joined the current of passengers getting out of the bus, and as he came the three steps down to the platform, Dick had spotted him as well and was approaching, just like in Lewis’ daydream. Only, Dick didn’t grin, he just politely smiled like he did for everyone, and by his side there was a woman. Lewis hadn’t even noticed her in the crowd. She was about their age, and her unremarkably bundled up hair was black, so she wasn’t Dick’s younger sister. She was an adult stranger in flat brown shoes and a red and white-striped summer dress that had a fashionable blooming bell skirt but that was wrinkled in use, and she had her arm linked with Dick’s. Lewis both hated and feared her in an instant. Dick and the woman walked up to meet Lewis, and Dick extended his hand in a handshake. “Hey, good to see you, Nix,” he greeted. Lewis took his hand and squeezed. “Hi. Likewise,” he replied, somewhat absentmindedly as he kept glancing at the strange woman. The woman let go of Dick’s arm to offer her hand to be shaken as well, and Dick put his hand on the small of her back as he introduced her: “Lewis Nixon, this is my very good friend Ms. Joan Brewster. Joan, this is my old friend from the army, Lewis Nixon.” Joan’s hand was small but hardy and strong. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Nixon,” she said. “I hope your trip went well.” “Nice to meet you too,” Lewis answered automatically. He glanced quickly at Dick, hoping for some sort of an explanation, then back at the woman. “Thank you. It was quite alright, though I’m glad to be finally here.” “Come on then. My mother is making dinner as we speak, I imagine we’ll arrive at a set table,” Dick said and gestured towards a street that presumably lead to his house. “Lead the way then,” Lewis said. Dick offered his arm again to Joan who took it with ease, and Lewis was left to walk by her side as they started to walk away from the bus station. The walk was a just over a mile and didn’t take the three of them too long even though they strolled slowly in the summer heat. It took a handful of minutes to leave the city centre and get to the more countryside-esque territory, where they were surrounded by patches of forest and fields full of chirping grasshoppers with occasional low buildings and wooden houses with big gardens scattered along the road. Lewis couldn’t help but admire the scenery and admit that Dick fit right into it. Somehow Dick seemed to be a part of these surroundings and fit in like it was his home, which it had probably always been. One of Lewis’ deepest regrets would always be having failed to give Dick a home. Dick’s house was a beautiful two-story wooden house that had been freshly painted and its wide lawn planted full of flowerbeds, tall lilac bushes and even a small patch of rhubarb. There sat a small woman with ginger and silver hair in an apron on the porch with a steel bowl in her lap peeling potatoes. She perked up when they approached and raised her hand in a wave. As they came closer, Lewis was shocked to recognize Dick’s eyes, nose, wavy hair and the same earnest smile on the face of an elderly woman. “Welcome back, dears! Dinner will be served in a minute!” she said as they walked up to her. “Thank you, Mom,” Dick said with a smile and went to kiss Edith on her cheek. “And Joan will help me set the table and serve the dinner, won’t you, dear?” Edith said, and Joan smiled and nodded. Lewis came up to the porch slightly behind the pair and was immediately sized up by Edith, who kept peeling potatoes even with her eyes nailed at Lewis. “Ah, you’re Richard’s friend from the army. Lewis, isn’t it? I recognize you from the pictures,” she said. “Yes, ma’am. Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Lewis replied, somehow nervous. There was something about the gaze of a mother, a real mother, that made him feel like an unruly boy. Edith didn’t say anything further, just kept her knife going at the potato in her hands and her pale blue eyes nailed at Lewis like she could see through him, and finally she nodded. “You go ahead and set that suitcase down in the hallway, dear. We’ll have dinner before you settle down.” Lewis did as he was told. Inside the house he found the kitchen and the attached dining room easily just by the noise and the delicious smell of food. Lewis lingered by the dining room doorframe and took in how perfect Dick looked in a domestic setting like this. He was fussing about in his own kitchen, carrying in dishes and pot coasters and pulling in more chairs. The only thing that ruined the picture was Joan who was setting plates and cutlery to the table, voicelessly negotiating the arrangements with Dick as they prepared to serve dinner together. Lewis felt a painful tug at his heart as he watched the pair work. Edith came in with a bowl of freshly peeled potatoes soon enough. She took them to the kitchen before joining them on the dining table. On the table there was a side on pork sliced and roasted in the oven with dill and parsley sprinkled on top, and to go along with it a big pot full of readily peeled and steamed potatoes. In a wide, brown glass bowl there was a rich salad with green lettuce, sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion, celery and decorative lemon slices. There was a breadbasket full of clearly freshly baked buns and a tiny plate of butter. Lewis was astonished by the serving that looked like something straight out of a picture book and wondered if this was what motherly care looked like. Edith didn’t take a seat before the three of them did, and she ushered Dick and Joan to sit side by side, and pointed Lewis to sit alone the opposite as Edith herself finally sat down at the head of the table. “Now you young ones dig in,” she said, “I swear, none of us mothers could never feed our children as much as we’d like. Make up for it now.” Obediently they did. Lewis started with the salad bowl while Dick, ever the gentleman, served meat and potatoes and Joan’s plate before helping himself, then handing the scoops over to Lewis to get food for himself. Dick also fixed a plate for his mother despite her many refusals, and when they all had a plate, they started to eat. “So, Mr. Nixon, Richard tells me you are his friend from the army and come all the way from New Jersey,” Edith started. “I hope the trip went well?” “Yes, ma’am. It did. It’s lovely around here, I love the scenery.” “He also told me you are a city-dweller. But let me tell you, there’s nothing like the country,” Edith chuckled. “And what do you do?” Lewis swallowed, a large mouthful of potatoes and beef going down. “I’m in between jobs at the moment, actually. My family used to own a nitration plant, but it’s closed down now and I need to figure out something else to do.” “New things keep your soul young,” Edith quipped. “How about your wife and children? How are they coping?” Lewis made himself to hold her gaze. “I’m divorced, actually. My first wife has full custody of our son, and me and my second wife don’t have children.” Edith didn’t falter. “Ah. I’m sorry to hear that,” she said easily and sounded like she meant it too, as much as a stranger’s multiple failed marriages warranted condolences. “Our Lord works in mysterious ways. Maybe starting over is exactly what you need now.” “That’s a nice thought,” Lewis replied and threw a glance at Dick across the table. Dick returned the look with the subtlest quirk of a brow that seemed to say sorry, just bear it. A corner of Lewis mouth tugged up in a it’s fine, this is fun in return that made Dick smile. “Try the bread! Joan and I baked it together just this morning,” Edith urged them, pushing the basked towards the middle of the table. “She’s a good girl, so handy around the house and there’s nothing she can’t do in the kitchen! Do you hear that, Richard?” Joan blushed and had to press the back of her hand to her mouth to apparently keep from speaking with her mouth full. She swallowed heavily and rushed to reject the compliments. “I’m just doing what I can, Mrs. Winters!” she said as soon as her mouth was empty. Lewis spotted parsley in her front tooth. “Really, I’m just happy to help around and do what I can. I could really use the distraction of doing something with my hands, and helping you is a joy.” Edith was visibly pleased at her words and gazed upon her adoringly. “I’m happy to have you around, Joan. You’re a good woman, and you’ll make an excellent wife for someone very lucky.” Joan blushed even deeper than before and ducked her head down, and right there in front of Lewis’ eyes she exchanged a conspiring smile with Dick. Lewis felt his heart sinking and his appetite dwindling, and even though he rationally knew it was unfair, he started to hate Joan. He hated her wrinkly dress and her limp hair in an uneven bundle and her crude hands and her blush and her girly voice and her ugly puffy face. And he especially hated how she got to sit next to Dick with whom she was “very good friends” and how they exchanged smiles and knocked their knees together and how they had set the table together. It was downright painful to watch as all those little things where what Lewis had dreamed about, and now they were played back to him with someone else in his place. And the very worst part was that Dick looked happy. “How did you come to know Dick, Ms. Brewster?” Lewis asked, perhaps on a suicidal whim that he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he kicked his old habits. Joan turned her blandly coloured blue eyes to him. She had the eyelashes of a cow and the complexion of rainwater. “We met at work. I work at the Hershey’s too.” “Ah, a girl from a candy factory.” “I’m a graphic designer at the marketing department,” Joan said and sounded a little proud. Lewis had to be a little impressed and he hated that too. With her hair and slightly unkempt style Lewis had immediately thought her a busy, overworked girl on the factory floor wearing overalls. Dick looked like he shared Joan’s pride and added: “Joan is an independent woman, and very talented too. She’ll get her own office one day.” Edith smiled good-naturedly but commented: “Not too independent, I hope. No one should be left completely alone in their life. Marriage can be such a great source for stability and strength as long as you do it right.” “Joan isn’t lonely, Mom,” Dick said, “she’s pursuing other goals in life, and she’s got plenty of time.” “You kids these days work too much,” Edith sighed but waved the matter aside without any more fuss. Lewis got the feeling that this topic had been thoroughly weathered on multiple occasions. Then suddenly, as if she’d heard his thoughts, Edith turned her attention back at Lewis again: “You were a very good friend of Dick’s, weren’t you, Mr. Nixon? I recall you from his letters home. Brilliant and hard-drinking man, he called you.” Lewis was caught off guard with a mouth full of lettuce, and for a moment he froze like a rabbit in headlights, then hurried to chew and swallow so he could answer, all the while the present tense she had used prickled at his gut. “I haven’t taken a drink in a year, ma’am, and I don’t intend to ever again,” Lewis replied, bypassing the comment about his brilliance especially since his deeds in service were a thing of the past, much like Dick’s fawning admiration over it. For the first time Edith looked slightly surprised. Her brows rose as she considered Lewis again and then she smiled. “Congratulations,” she said warmly. “I hope you feel better.” “I do, ma’am. Thank you.” It wasn’t even a lie as far as alcohol was considered. Right now Lewis still craved a drink so that it would take the edge off the sharp gaze of Dick’s mother, the unease of this probing dinner table conversation and the painful sight of the young couple opposite of him, but he didn’t miss the embarrassment his behaviour would bring after or the nausea in the morning. Besides, Lewis thought to himself, even if he were to drown himself in whiskey tonight, the reality wouldn’t go anywhere. Tomorrow morning he’d still be him, the man who had ruined his chances at true love and happiness, and Dick and Joan would still be ‘very good friends’, and Dick’s mother would still fawn over the good, driven woman that Joan was and welcome her into her family. Lewis felt a sudden slump in his mood as he thought of that and chose a particularly fatty piece of meat to stuff into his mouth. Edith wasn’t done with him yet, but now that Lewis had denounced alcohol in front of her, something that Lewis hadn’t taken note of before softened now. “Old friends are important. I heard you called my son rather out of the blue,” she said.

Lewis nearly chocked on his food and had to subtly cough to clear his airways. He felt himself flushing and hoped his cough would explain it away. He swallowed. “Yes, I did. And he was kind enough to answer, then write, and now invite me over here for a visit.” He glanced across the table at Dick, who was following the conversation between him and his mother like a tennis match with a curious, intent look on his face. “It’s the perfect time to visit,” Edith said. “Midsummer is the height of all things beautiful. It seems every flower is blooming now. Richard, are you taking Lewis to that party tomorrow?” Lewis’ brows flew up. He barely remembered a mention about a garden party some far-away neighbour was throwing in Dick’s invitation letter. He had dismissed it as just chitchat about local happenings and not a thing they would actually be attending. Dick just smiled to his mother, and Joan by his side blushed again and smiled from ear to ear. “Yes, we’re going there. Joan’s worked so hard on it I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” “Ah, yes!” Edith said, brightening again now that she got to talk about Joan again. “You worked on that garden during spring, didn’t you? Daily, even? And built and painted the porch, if I remember correctly?” Joan shied away from the attention but couldn’t stop herself from smiling to her lap. “The porch was really already there, it just needed new boards and a fresh coat of paint, that’s all. Dick helped me, too,” she said and glanced by her side, adoring. Dick smiled back in that genuine way where one side of his mouth tugged higher than the other, then turned to look straight at Lewis. “Joan is a self-reliant and hard-working woman,” he said. “Yes, I can tell,” Lewis said and forced a smile. Dick didn’t buy it and Lewis knew it from the well-hidden yet detectable way he started to roll his eyes but caught himself early enough to mask it as a harmless sideways glance. Joan changed the subject. “Are you looking for a job now, Mr. Nixon?” she asked. “Well… Yeah. I just don’t know what that could be,” Lewis started, hesitant. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought that far ahead when he had started to tear himself away from his family and hometown. Since that he had had a few short employments as a freelancer but nothing had taken. “You are a Yale graduate. I’m sure you’ll find something,” Joan said. Lewis was surprised yet again, this time about her knowledge of his education. He glanced at Dick and wondered why he had told her and if he talked about him often, and then looked back at Joan. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll just keep looking. I’d like something challenging for a change,” he said. “That’s a good attitude. Good results and happiness are never just handed to us, they are behind a lot of work! Just like a good marriage,” Edith added. “Best of luck to you with that, Mr. Nixon. If Richard liked you, I’m certain you are a good, capable man.” Her words felt like a blessing, and some burden or a feeling of intruding that Lewis hadn’t even realized he felt lifted from his shoulders. After they had eaten the dinner, Edith took Joan with her to clean the table and pack away the leftovers, and even though Dick tried to help by piling up the plates and cutlery for Joan, Edith ushered both men out. Dick gave in under the assault of his mother’s dish rag, tapped Lewis on the shoulder and led him outside to the porch. “Come, we have things to do this evening,” he said. “Oh… Okay,” Lewis agreed, wondering if he would be put to work on the vegetable patch. Dick led him around the house to the back, where in the stone foundation of the house there were low doors to the cellar. “Come on, give me a hand,” he said, yanked the doors open and hunched down to lower himself into the dark and cool cellar. Lewis stood by the door waiting for an order to do whatever, and after a moment Dick appeared from the dark with a wooden box of lemons in it. “Here you go. Put this aside and wait for the rest,” he said and disappeared back in the cellar. All in all, Dick handed Lewis two large boxes of lemons, four cases of empty glass bottles, a bucket with sugar bags in it, and a case with a juicer and a bottling kit in it. Dick climbed up from the cellar and kicked the doors shut. “We’re going to that garden party tomorrow and everyone is to bring something. I promised Joan that we’d make lemonade,” Dick explained as he picked up half of the lemons and equipment, and Lewis followed his example. “Alright,” Lewis agreed. “I’ll help you, but I got to admit I’ve never made lemonade so you’ll have to help me help you.” “Don’t worry, I will,” Dick said with a smile, and Lewis followed him back to the porch. The rest of the evening went by making lemonade. Dick showed Lewis how to make syrup out of water and sugar, and then they halved and juiced lemons until they had enough juice for the amount they wanted. They thinly sliced lemons to be put in the bottles, and finally measured water to blend the lemon juice and the syrup into lemonade. They mixed it and then finally got to bottling it, which they did together with such ease that one would think they did it all the time. When the sun was finally going down, they finally had four full cases of freshly bottled lemonade. “There we go,” Dick sighed with satisfaction. “Now we’re prepared for tomorrow.” “Are we?” Lewis asked. Dick directed a pointed glance towards the open kitchen window. “We are, for now.” He gazed into the sunset in the cooling summer air thoughtfully for a second, then turned back to Lewis. “Are you really going to get a job? You wouldn’t have to ever work again with your family’s fortune, I know that.” Lewis shifted awkwardly on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah I know. But I think I need a job. Something real and challenging, something to keep me busy and to really work on. I… I need to actually have something that I came by myself, you know.” Dick gave him a silent pleased look, a look that Lewis had seen only a few times but always made him feel like he had been running in circles before finally arriving at some point where Dick had been waiting for him. Lewis just never knew what that point was, not right away. Dick put his hands in his trouser pockets and smiled. “I’m really glad that you came.” Lewis couldn’t help but be at least a little bit doubtful. “Are you?” “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Dick asked, his head tilted and his gaze heartbreakingly sincere. Lewis swallowed. “It’s been a long time.” “So it has,” Dick agreed, then turned to look around the grassy hills and fields and old, voluminous maples and oaks surrounding his property. He squinted his eyes against the warm orange light of the setting sun. “Does it feel like it’s been a long time, though?” “Yes, it does,” Lewis answered immediately and couldn’t quite hide all the longing and regret that he had dragged with him during their years apart. Dick heard it in the tone too, because his head snapped to Lewis, and the surprised look in his blue eyes melted into warm compassion and his lips curled into a soft, sad smile. Rays from the setting sun hit his faded hair and lit it up again like when he had been young, smooth-faced and innocent. Lewis felt his throat squeezing shut as he took him in like a revelation and hoped the time would stop. “Come on, I’ll show you your room. We’ll have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” Dick said softly and touched Lewis’ arm before leading him back to the house. Lewis thought he couldn’t sleep that night with all the uncertainty and since the guest room was upstairs and more than warm even during the night, but he was so exhausted from the travel and the dinner and the company that he fell asleep without even having to think about it. He slept soundly through the night, something that giving up drinking also allowed him to do now, and he didn’t even feel groggy when he woke to a sharp knock to his door exactly at ten. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a sight that made him blink and wonder for a moment if he had slipped back in time. It had been maybe ten years since he’d last seen Dick wear his dress uniform but there he was, dressed up, pedant and ready for anything. It had also been years since he had been woken up by Dick pushing a cup of coffee and two pieces of toast into his hands. “Here you go, eat!” Dick said with a beaming smile on his face. “I sure hope you brought some nice clothes with you. If not, you can always borrow some of mine, but I know your style is much different from mine so it would be better if you wouldn’t have to suffer my taste.” He chattered away and went to the closet where Lewis had hung his clothes and started to browse through them while Lewis just stared. “I… Uh…” Lewis muttered, stunned. He glanced down at his breakfast and took a sip of the coffee hoping it would kickstart his brain, then looked back at the damn Major Winters who was going through his clothes, and felt strangely like they were about to take a trip to Paris. “You should have told me to bring my uniform,” he said. Dick threw him a grin over his shoulder. “You’ll be fine without it. I know you hate that thing anyway.” “Yeah,” Lewis admitted. Frankly, he doubted his dress greens would even fit him anymore. “You said it was a garden party? At Joan’s neighbour’s house?” “Indeed. Come on now! We need to be there by midday,” Dick hurried him. Lewis took a hefty bite out of his toast and glanced out of the window. It was a bright summer day. The sky was perfectly blue without a single shred of cloud in sight, and after going through his closet Dick went to throw the window open. The scent of greenery and the songs of birds and crickets filled the room immediately. “What kind of a house is it and who’s throwing a party?” Lewis asked. “Joan’s friend inherited her grandmother’s estate some years ago and she’s been fixing it up ever since. It’s an old house, almost a mansion really, with a great big garden that pretty much all her friends have been taming and tending to for the past year. Her grandmother lived there until her death but was too tired during her last years to really keep it at its best, you see,” Dick explained. “But now it’s all fixed up, and Julia – that’s the current owner’s name, Julia Elo – is throwing this midsummer’s party.” He paused, turned from the window and leaned back against the windowsill. “And I’m taking you there with me.” Lewis tried to read the exact tone and meaning in Dick’s words but couldn’t, so he simply sipped his coffee and then nodded towards the closet. “I do have one nice suit with me, but I didn’t bring a tie. Is that going to be a problem?” he asked. “No, I don’t think it will,” Dick said with a smile. “I’ll leave you to eat, wash up and get dressed.” He was already in the hallway on his way downstairs, when Lewis figured to call after him with a grin: “Do you think I need a shave?” “Yes!” Dick yelled back. Lewis had packed exactly one good suit just in case, and now it was needed. It was a very basic two-button suit with dark trousers and a jacket that tinted slightly to blue. He wore it with a white shirt and his favourite jet-black belt with a simple but beautiful silver buckle. He didn’t have a tie nor did he want one, but left the top button of his shirt open. The suit was tailored and exactly what was expected from formal wear, but Lewis never wanted to look too proper. Dick was waiting for him downstairs and had already brought the cases of lemonade from the cool cellar to the kitchen. When Lewis walked in Dick was busy being fussed over by his mother who was seemingly quite emotional about her son dressed in his uniform – apparently a rare sight – and was trying to mask it by interrogating him about the process of the lemonade and instructing him in serving it. Lewis’ arrival interrupted this, and Dick looked almost relieved when it did. “Ah, Nix! You’re ready! Help me get these cases to the car and we’ll go, alright?” Dick drove a pickup which had more than enough space for four cases of lemonade, which he then secured with hooked ropes before they got in the car. “It’s not a long drive and we’re right on time,” Dick said when he started the car and glanced at his watch. “It’s just over eleven, we’ll probably have some time to spare as well.” They took down the road and it was indeed a short drive, barely five miles, but during that time they passed a few farms, a cluster of modest houses, and then drove up a low forest hill before arriving before a yard that had a house that indeed looked like a mansion. The estate was surrounded by a tall fence of iron and brick, but the front didn’t have a gate, leaving the driveway just open. Several cars were already parked along the driveway, and the front door of the house was open and there were people running out and in carrying various things with them. The house was indeed big, big enough to have high arching roof, several wings, three chimneys and columns lining the front porch. It had beautiful tall windows, and the whole house had been freshly painted pastel peach with warm read accents. Dick parked the car, and while Lewis was still admiring the house and how it made him think of places he had lived in as a boy, he turned to him and took a moment. Lewis felt his eyes on him and turned to receive the look. Dick was smiling softly. “You look very handsome,” he said. Lewis flushed and blinked. “Thank you,” was all he could think to say. So do you was on the tip of his tongue but that’s where it stayed. He wasn’t sure if it was welcome and he refused to risk it, but he hoped that Dick would just know what he thought of him. “Should you go find Joan?” he asked instead. Dick smiled suddenly wider and glanced towards the ceiling. “Yes, yes I probably should,” he said and sounded like it was terribly amusing. “Tell you what, I’ll go do that, and you’ll go rope in some people to get the lemonade in the kitchen. I’d introduce you to people, but truth be told I don’t know everyone either, and you’ll probably fare better on your own.” With that, Dick jumped out of the car and up the stairs and went into the house. Lewis sat still for a moment longer gathering himself before getting out of the car as well. There seemed to be at least two dozen guests at the house, and all of them seemed to be simultaneously arranging the party as much as they were attending it. Both men and women were running around carrying garden chairs, tablecloths, trays full of glasses, lanterns and candles, flowers and bowls and trays full of various foods and pastries, and in the middle of it Lewis tried to find someone who looked like they might have time to help him. Eventually he caught a pair on their way back from the garden towards the kitchen, a man and a woman in matching suits, and he called out to them: “Hey! Could you lend me a hand? I’ve got four cases of lemonade in the back of a pickup and I don’t know how to get them in the house nevermind where to put them.” The woman in a three-piece suit and her short blond hair combed back brightened at him. “If you brought lemonade, you must be Lewis Nixon! Nice to meet you, I’m Laura Bloomingdale, but call me Larry. I’m Dick’s friend, we know each other from local veterans’ association.” Lewis took her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Larry. May I ask, were you with WAC?” “Marine corps,” Laura answered with a solid nod. “This here is my brother Eddie. He was with the marines too.” The man gave Lewis a shy nod and a light squeeze of hand, obviously preferring his sister to do the talking. Laura beamed and slapped her hands together. “Now, shall we see to that lemonade? We need to put it in the ice before it’s served. Then I’ll show you to the garden, let me tell you it’s quite the sight! Everything is almost ready!” Laura chattered confidently all the while they carried the lemonade to the huge kitchen that was all but upside down with abundance of dishes, food, bottles, stocks of unopened cases of champagne and flower arrangements. Still there was more than enough room for every bottle of lemonade, and Laura introduced Lewis hastily to several people as they were dashing and skipping past them. Laura and Eddie guided Lewis through the house and out from the back into the garden. The sight was breath-taking. Glassy double doors opened onto a large porch, and low steps took you down to thick grass. There was a slithering stone path laid into the ground that went through the entire garden, curving and turning through dozens of flowerbeds overflowing with greenery, flowers, bushes, vines and fruit trees, all of them in full bloom. There were high arches completely covered in ivy and grapevine, fiery red roses and little purple bell-shaped flowers. There were giant pink peonies, tall white jasmine bushes and beautiful blue hortensias, several colours of roses, and in the midst of it all there were a dozen mismatched garden tables with chairs, all covered with colourful tablecloths and set for multicourse meals with fine crystal glasses and beautiful flower centrepieces on each. The garden wall was solid brick that multiple vines had already started to climb, and it was tall enough to make the garden feel like a magical place of its own that had been shielded from the rest of the world. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Laura said by Lewis’ side. “Yeah,” Lewis breathed, speechless. “You should have seen it a couple of years ago,” Laura chuckled. “It was all over-grown and nearly impenetrable in some places. I swear, we had to chase away a family of possums, probably an entire society of mice, and a badger.” Eddie hummed in agreement. “You wouldn’t believe the state it was in when you look at it now.” “Sure wouldn’t,” Lewis agreed. Laura looked around her clearly searching for something. “Where did Dick go, by the way?” Lewis glanced around too, hoping to find him. “Ah… He went to find Joan,” he replied. “Ah, the man of honor,” Laura said with a hearty chuckle that her brother joined in. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be back soon. It’s almost time.” They joined the crowd in the garden, and it started to look like everything was finally put together and people started to linger in the garden instead of dashing in and out. Groups formed, old friends greeted each other, and Lewis went around introducing himself. Men and women seemed to mix with remarkable ease and Lewis couldn’t point out any couples, but he did meet several women in trousers or full suits like Laura, and men who carried themselves with considerably less bravado than those you met in business circles. Additionally, all of them seemed to know who he was, at least by name and whose friend he was, even if they confessed not knowing Dick that well, even just by name alone. Lewis was starting to feel rather dizzy with it all when Dick suddenly appeared on his side and took him by the arm. “Hi there. It’s almost time,” he said, “have you met everybody yet?” “I…. Yeah, sure,” Lewis said. He wanted to ask but didn’t know what he would have said, so he just blinked and stared at Dick, who smiled back sympathetically, like he knew that Lewis was completely thrown off but wouldn’t explain anything. Then a grey-haired woman in a floor-length, old-fashioned green dress came running out of the house, stood at the top of the porch steps and called over the chatter: “They are ready! Places, everyone!” She then rushed down the steps herself and joined the crowd. “Come on,” Dick said and started to pull Lewis forward towards one of the rose arches, where the rest of the party crowd gathered. Someone had a record-player set on a chair, and he was waiting for the mark from a woman who alone stood under the rose arch facing the crowd. She was wearing a beautiful pink and green bell-skirted dress with large flower and bird prints on it, her long golden hair was loose and naturally curly, and on her shoulders she had a long white scarf. Dick pulled Lewis along with him all the way to the front of the crowd, where they stood with several women and a few men. They stood by the grey-haired woman who had announced whatever was about to happen, and despite her earlier excitement she was now teary-eyed and tapping at her cheeks with an embroidered handkerchief. Lewis blinked at her in confusion and already had his mouth open to ask Dick about it, but Dick hushed him and just quickly muttered: “Julia’s godmother.” The woman under the arch nodded to the man by the record-player, and after a scratch of a needle the music started. It took Lewis less than a second to recognize a bridal march, and then the crowd turned towards the doors, and Lewis with them. From the glass doors and down the porch steps came two beautiful women with their arms linked, one of them wearing an Air Force dress uniform and the other a full blooming pure white wedding dress and a long flowing veil, and both had small bouquets of lavender and lilies in the cradle of their arms. Lewis realized that he knew the woman in the uniform, having had dinner with her at the same table just yesterday while feeling incredibly jealous because of her. The bridal couple walked through the garden and the crowd of their friends, both of them beaming and casting nervous glances everyway, before they stopped under the rose arch in front of the woman. They handed the flowers away for someone in the front row, Dick being the other one of them. Then Joan turned towards Julia and they took each other’s hands. The woman before them started to speak: “Dear friends and loved ones, we have gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love between these two women, Julia Ida Elo and Joan Mary Brewster, who wish to join together in marriage, and love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives. I ask of you now, do you vow to be ever loyal, ever faithful, ever loving, and unwavering in your devotion to each other, until death do you apart?” “We vow,” the women answered in unison. The woman turned towards Julia and asked: “Do you, Julia Ida Elo, take this woman, Joan Mary Brewster, to be your wife, and do you vow to love and cherish her through good and hard times alike, for the rest of your lives?” Julia’s voice was small but determined as she looked at Joan, put a ring on her finger and said: “I do.” The woman turned to Joan. “And do you, Joan Mary Brewster, take this woman, Julia Ida Elo, to be your wife, and do you vow to love and cherish her through good and hard times alike, for the rest of your lives?” Joan looked like she was about to cry at any moment, but there was a blinding smile on her face when she put a silver ring on Julia’s finger and said: “I do!” The woman smiled at both of them and announced: “I now declare you wives! You both may now kiss your bride!” The women burst in happy laughter before reaching for each other, and cradling each other’s faces they kissed sweetly and for a long moment. Joyous applause rang out from the crowd, and the two brides turned to smile and wave at them all. Lewis joined in the applause but rather confused. He felt like he had fallen down a rabbit-hole and gone straight to wonderland, and having all his previous assumptions and expectations flipped over was certainly an experience. He could do precious little more than join the crowd in the celebration, and then they were being ushered into the tables. Each table had a bottle of champagne and lemonade, and the bridal couple was seated at their own table and crowned with flowers. Glasses were filled, toasts were given, and meal was served. Everyone had indeed participated in the servings, and casseroles, pies, cookies, muffins and little sandwiches were passed among the guests. Really, it was a lot like any other wedding Lewis had been to, and nothing like them at all at the same time. He was seated next to Dick at a small table for five, his plate was filled and his glass poured full of the homemade lemonade he had just made with Dick the day before. He kept staring at the bridal couple and wondering about them. Julia was fair and brown-eyed with hair of the colour like a dirt road in beautiful curls and pinned along her head, and her lacy veil was set on top of the curls with a comb. She had an oval face and a strong, lean build of a woman used to manual labour – someone mentioned that she was a nurse – and she was slightly taller than Joan. Her wedding dress looked homemade but fashionable with its wide skirt, sweetheart neckline and little lace sleeves, and she was positively radiant. Joan by her side was equally blissed out happy looking, her thick-lashed doe eyes positively starry as she mooned over her new wife, the appropriate hat of an air force pilot discarded in favour of the flower crown. Her dark hair was in a tight braid and a bun but with bangs and slim side curls that were definitely not regulation and her full cheeks were rosy with joy. They were a beautiful couple. Dick leaned closer to Lewis. “Joan was with the WASP in Europe. We both have very strong feelings about flying,” he said. “She’s also a very driven, dedicated worker and a brilliant artist. I admire her and enjoy her company very much. Frankly, she reminds me a little bit of you.” “She looks very happy and beautiful,” Lewis admitted meekly. “She does, doesn’t she?” Dick agreed with a knowing smile that made Lewis feel like he had heard all of Lewis’ less than kind thoughts of her yesterday. “I’m sure she and Julia will be very happy together. They’ve really worked for it, you know.” “Yeah, I bet,” Lewis agreed. It was a merry party, and as it went along Lewis actually came to the conclusion that it was nothing like any other wedding he had ever attended. It was casual, informal and absolutely blissful. Everyone present were clearly close to at least one of the brides and there was seemingly no end to the toasts and speeches in the honour of the day. There was even one satirical poem about the beauty and glory of the brides that left everyone howling with laughter and got lengthy applause. Everything on the tables was shared, and as the evening progressed, people started to move between the tables. A game of cards was started, as was a casual little tournament of badminton. Dick kept leaning on his chair and gazing at Lewis. “Care to take a walk? I could show you more of the garden,” he suggested. There was nothing else for Lewis to do but to follow. They wandered away from the others as Dick took Lewis to the narrow stone path and explained how he had helped the brides pick a good stone for it and instructed Joan to lay them in the ground. They passed flourishing beds of hortensias and some tulips in silence, just strolling along, and Lewis sensed a topic coming on between them. He wondered if there was a place for clear answers here in wonderland. Dick glanced at him, smiling. “I guess I should say sorry about the dinner yesterday. Mom really went at it.” “Don’t be sorry, she’s a great woman. Besides, she didn’t ask anything I couldn’t be honest about,” Lewis said, then paused. “She hopes that you and Joan get married.” “Yeah,” Dick admitted with a shrug. “That’s kind of the point.” “She’ll wonder about it in time.” “A lot of people will, but that’s the lesser evil. We’re watching each other’s backs for now,” Dick said. “She’s a good woman, and a dear friend.” Lewis nodded in understanding, then gave an exasperated huff and groaned: “I can’t believe I was jealous because of a lesbian.” Dick chuckled drily, then suddenly asked: “Were you?” “What?” “Jealous,” he specified like he thought nothing special of it. “Of you? Always.” The reply seemed to please Dick in its simplicity and frankness, and it got Lewis a soft smile. Dick took them around jasmine bushes so thick they were almost a hedge, and there they came across a clearly very old, moss-covered water fountain that was growing water lilies. It was a simple fountain like a stone pond there in the shadow of jasmines, their little white petals floating on the water. “You seem to be doing better now, Lewis. Times were tough for you the last time I saw you,” Dick mentioned, his tone gentle but certain. Lewis immediately felt awkward and regretful and combed his hand through his hair. He didn’t even know where to begin with that. “Yeah, uh, about that, I’m – “ “Don’t apologize,” Dick interrupted. Lewis didn’t know what else to say. For a moment he just stood with his mouth open, and when no words came to him, he was forced to shut it. Dick gave him a look that was almost frustrated, maybe at the old problems they had never solved. His words sounded heavy when he started to talk, and the tone gave no other option but to listen. “That’s all you’ve been doing, apologizing over and over again,” he said and sighed harshly, wiped a hand across his face. Then, he spoke more calmly: “It’s not that I don’t hear you or understand your feelings, but the truth is, I’m not mad at you. I don’t blame you.” Dick put his hands into his trouser pockets and stared at the rippling water. “It’s not like I didn’t have hard times after… You know. I know that we fought, and I know that I’ve said unkind things to you and yelled at you, but all that time I could see that you were scared and in pain. I was frustrated that I couldn’t help you.” Lewis just shook his head and sighed. “You couldn’t have saved me, no one could have. I had to do it myself.” Dick looked like he knew it too but didn’t like it one bit. He turned his hands in his pockets and kept watching the white flower petals on the water, then stared down at his feet. Lewis kept glancing at him from the corner of his eye. Dick took a deep breath. “I’m really happy that you’re doing better, Nix. That’s what I ultimately wanted to know when we started writing again, and I know I can be at peace with everything that’s happened between us if you’re just doing okay.” “I am! I am better,” Lewis hurried to assure him even though at the same time he hated the implications of letting go of the past. He wasn’t done with it, he didn’t want to let it go, not when Dick was standing right there and was still him, and when Lewis still felt like he did. He ducked his head. “You know, I meant it what I said on the phone back then. I remember everything. I never actually forgot that much, no matter how drunk I was, it was just easier to pretend like I had.” Dick took a sharp breath through his nose, the same thing he always did when he was bracing for something. Lewis stole a glance at him, and he looked like he was about to throw himself out of an airplane. Then Dick turned his determined, steely eyes to Lewis. “What do you want, Lewis?” “What do I – ?” “Yeah. What did you come here for?” Dick demanded. Lewis could only shrug. In truth he knew exactly what he wanted but didn’t feel like he had any right to make demands of Dick. After all, it had been Lewis who had – “You broke my heart, Nix,” Dick said quietly, almost accusing, then scoffed, maybe at himself or a thought he wasn’t speaking aloud. He dropped his gaze, probably thinking Lewis undecisive still. “I know, I’m – “ Lewis was about to say that he was sorry, but bit his tongue at the last second, remembering that Dick didn’t want to hear any of it. This had always been the problem between them. Lewis could see it now, years later and maybe a bit wiser, the dots of all those repeated mistakes that had been too spread out to connect before. Now that the pattern was clear it was like a map to follow, an equation of human emotion and error, and there was still something left of Captain Nixon because now he could plan a route through that confusing terrain. It had never been about right and wrong, who had the right to what or where the ethical scales tipped. There was only one way through, and Dick had always had it figured out and he was now calling Lewis to join him on it. Lewis felt foolish, suddenly. It wasn’t about any rules, it was about wanting. And for heaven’s sake did he want, damn him how he wanted. He turned to face Dick. “I want to try again,” he said, “I want us again, despite how everything went to hell last time, because I still feel the same way about you and I want to make something of that.” Dick regarded him steadily and calmly with something gentle in his eyes but didn’t say anything, and whatever that gentleness was remained unspoken. It was unspoken but still real, and after speaking his mind Lewis came to a conclusion that the ball was now in Dick’s end of the court and all that was left for him to do was to wait. He had been honest, it was out of his hands now. The loss of control like that had always felt unbearable in the past, but now Lewis felt the same weightlessness he did just before the chute opened. He had taken the jump, and now Dick was either the mercilessly hard ground rushing towards him or the silken miracle of a parachute that would take a hold of him and drift with him through the air. A loud tune of music rang through the garden, and Lewis startled. Suddenly all other sounds registered to him too as if they had been switched back on, and he remembered that they were not all alone in the world behind the jasmine bushes but at a wedding. Dick looked slightly confused too, and Lewis guessed he had been lulled in their false privacy as well and was amused by it. Dick blinked, then chuckled to himself and shook his head, leaving the overt seriousness and vulnerability behind in the previous moment. Someone had clearly put a new record in the player as instead of classical music it now played dance music. Lewis imagined that the bridal couple was now taking their first dance steps as a married couple to the oh so nostalgic boogie woogie. They listened to the music for a moment in silence, then Dick took his hands out of his pockets and turned to Lewis. “Come on, dance with me.” Lewis opened his mouth with hesitant excuses ready to go but in the same moment realized how ridiculous he was being. Dick gave him a fitting amused look with raised brows. “You’re my date at the wedding of two women. We can dance here,” Dick said, then promptly reached to take Lewis by hand and led them back to others. The larch porch was now serving as a dance floor, and those who didn’t fit there danced on the grass. The record player had been brought in the middle and its volume turned up, and the woman in a suit called Laura from earlier was apparently assigned to be a disc jockey of sorts as she was lounging on a chair next to the player with a large case of records at her feet. Joan and Julia were indeed dancing, surrounded by a circle of spectators. Both had kicked off their shoes and Julia had discarded her veil, and they were in the midst of an energetic swing with wild spins and turns and kicks, both clearly experienced dancers and both laughing. The first song was just for them, but when the second came along, couples started to join them, and quite a few of them were like Lewis and Dick. Dick held Lewis’ hand but didn’t lead him to the dancefloor just yet, perhaps being intimidated by the fast-paced song. Lewis was fine with waiting and suggested that they’d have drinks before they danced, to which Dick agreed. By the time they had had their glasses of lemonade, Laura had decided to switch the record into something more modern, a slower song came along, and finally Dick pulled Lewis with him up to the porch and among dancing couples. It was a surreal experience, one that Lewis had never thought possible. Dick led him to the crowd, then turned to face him and offered his hand. Lewis took it and stepped closer to him, laid his left hand of Dick’s shoulder, and Dick slipped his around his waist to the small of his back. Together they took to the music and started to dance. It was confusing at first as Lewis had never danced this way before and found having to mirror all the steps he knew and do them backwards, but Dick had steady hands and he led with natural ease, and soon they fell into it. After a minute, Dick focused his eyes on Lewis and picked up their conversation: “If there were to be a second chance, what would that include in your mind?” Lewis, drunk on jasmine and lemonade and dancing, was suddenly in a cheery mood, almost chuckling when he answered: “Well, a second date at least.” Dick’s smile was bittersweet. “Well, that’s the problem, Nix. I’m over thirty already. I’m too old for those games.” Lewis returned the gaze and the smile, though cautioned by Dick’s tone. “They are not games. That’s what people do, that’s how they know if they like each other.” Dick gave him a pointed look. “Aren’t we a bit past that point, Lewis? We’re good friends. We’ve lived together. We’ve… well. We’ve already done the whole thing over, what new is there?” Dick’s words cut through the hopeful haze that had been gathering in Lewis’ head throughout the day and forced him to consider the practical specifics. Dick had the habit of doing that to him, to force him from his daydreams and musings down to earth. He had used to fight that but wondered now if that was a good thing. Lewis was too much of an idle dreamer, and Dick tended to be too absolute and rigid. Maybe they could meet in the middle. “There’s still everything,” Lewis answered, “if we just want it. If we build it.” He had hoped that that would do away with that bittersweet smile on Dick’s face, but instead it brought along a shade of pain. “Everything, huh,” Dick said quietly. “That’s what it was last time. Anything and everything, but in the end it turned out to be nothing.” Lewis swallowed. There was the old heartache, ever fresh and tender. He wondered if he’d be soothing that wound forever. He dreamed of kissing it better. “Look… I know. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I was afraid back then and I did wrong by you. I wanted everything and acted like I could take it and then pretend like I hadn’t. And I was wrong, I know that, that’s why I’m asking for a second chance.” The record and along it the song changed again. A simple piano and some sort of a string instrument played in simple, relaxed harmony and a gentle female voice vocalized along it. Dancers around them adjusted closer to each other. A charismatic male voice started to longingly sing: Put your head on my shoulder, hold me in your arms, baby – Dick smiled a little more then, his cheeks rosy but his smile still on the sad side. “I just can’t do that again, the denial and the lies and avoidance. Anything else, Lew, anything else I can take. Any moods, hardship, blowbacks, even if you started drinking again, all that I can take, but only as long as we’re honest.” That was something so profound Lewis couldn’t say anything back to it. He just swallowed thickly and swayed to the music, maybe a little bit closer to Dick and maybe squeezing his shoulder and hand a bit tighter, but there was nothing to say. He had worked on himself and dragged himself up from the bottom of the pit, for his own sake sure, for his own survival, but he thought that his goal had always been to make himself into a man Dick Winters could have cherished, even when he had thought he had missed his chance. To now find out that Dick had always been ready to cherish him, even at his lowest point, if only Lewis could have made himself speak up about his own feelings and cherish him in return, felt like a lot of his suffering had been a waste. His own heartache was just as tender as Dick’s, it seemed. Whisper in my ear, baby, words I want to hear, tell me, tell me that you love me too, the singer on the record crooned. Carefully Lewis laid his cheek to rest on Dick’s shoulder, his face towards his neck. The wool of the uniform was strangely familiar, a strong wave of nostalgia coming over him. “All cards on the table, then?” “Yes, and no takebacks either.” “Okay,” Lewis agreed faintly. He was feeling a bit lightheaded. He blamed the strong scent of the jasmines, the sugar and all this swaying together for making him feel that way. Being back in Dick’s arms may have also played a part in it. “I want to see you again like this,” he said. “Like ‘this’?” Dick asked. Lewis didn’t think he was even teasing him, he was truthfully distrusting of vague promises and phrases. Lewis had a bad record with those, and those still weighed down on them even though he was here righting past wrongs. “Yeah. I want to go out with you, with serious intentions,” Lewis said, “I want to dance with you again. I want to go to the pictures with you. I want to drive around with you, and I want to spend hours just talking with you. And I want the boring adult things with you too. I want to burn your breakfast and do half of the dishes and incorrectly fold our laundry. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to be yours and yours only.” Dick made a funny sound, something akin to a broken hum, a gentle whimper that made Lewis want to lean back to see what he looked like, only he would have rather died than moved even an inch away. Dick’s hand on the small of his back pulled him even closer, almost too close to properly dance anymore. The song had changed and he hadn’t even noticed. “How do you even fold laundry incorrectly?” Dick asked with a breathless laugh. “Oh, I’ll find a way.” The party lasted into late evening, and when the darkness fell they just lit up the lanterns, brought out more candles and turned on the lights inside the house. Even when people were too tired to dance, play or really make merry anymore, several stayed behind to just lounge together and talk, to pick at the leftovers and enjoy the last of the champagne. Many of the guest were staying at the house and they retreated quietly up to their rooms, while some were from the town and left back home. The bridal couple stayed until the very end even though they had their wedding night ahead of them. They were getting rather amorous too, exchanging gentle kisses and wrapping their arms around each other at every given opportunity. During their party they had kissed every time someone had clinked a piece of cutlery against their glass, but now they didn’t even need the prompting. Lewis wondered how he had ever thought of Joan as anything else except a woman’s woman. He also wondered if he and Dick would be that obvious when in each other’s company. He wondered if they had always been. Dick and Lewis stayed behind as the very last guests and helped clean up. Dick was Joan’s closest friend and thus felt obligated to help and kept the brides away from cleaning up their own wedding, and Lewis joined Dick on the task. The party had been a group effort and so would the clean-up be, but the good dishes and cutlery needed to be brought back inside and the leftover food packed away. It was past midnight when Dick and Lewis finally got back to the car and started their slow trip back to Dick’s house. Dick drove at a leisure pace, turning the ten-minute trip into double. Lewis kept looking at Dick at the driver’s seat. The sight of him in uniform while driving his own pickup was a strange blend of memories and present, and Lewis loved the chance that he might get to have them both. “It really feels like no time has passed,” Dick said out of the blue, a bit astonished. He sounded like he had been turning the thought over in his head for a while now. He glanced at Lewis with a lopsided smile and a wrinkle between his eyes. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “It’s not that you haven’t changed in some ways, but I just know you. I know you, still. And I don’t think I ever stopped keeping a place open for you.” Despite all the time Lewis had spent feeling Dick’s absence like an open wound, he could strangely find himself agreeing. This was still the man he knew, his best friend, the best friend he had ever had and quite possibly that kind of one true love some lucky people met once in a lifetime. Despite their time apart, their falling out and the distance they had let between them, Dick had always been right here, existing in the world, and Lewis had just found his way back to him like coming home. “So… Is that a yes to a second date?” Dick laughed at that and threw him a playfully scolding look, I am talking seriously, Lew! and reached over to take Lewis’ hand in his. “It’s definitely a yes, to many things.” They held hands all the way back home.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #winnix #mun ficci

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fortitude-sakura · 6 years ago

Text

Noir [8/?]

AO3

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Sakura could hardly keep her eyes open. Whatever “sleep” she got last night could hardly be considered that. She spent most of the night awake, thinking about what had transpired earlier. By the time she actually got to sleep, it wasn’t long before she had to be up again to get to Milk Grind in time for the barista class she signed up for.

Milk Grind actually had a dedicated space for barista classes, set up with half a dozen coffee machines and a seemingly unlimited supply of milk. Jay went through the differences between types of coffee (including the Australian Flat White which uses microfoam and is more velvety, resulting in a stronger coffee). He demonstrates how to steam milk properly and that the proper temperature is 60-65 degrees Celsius (any hotter an the milk is burnt). The magic happens when Jay starts to pour. He pours a little flower (which he calls a rosetta) and explains the process in creating the pattern in the crema.

Sounds easy enough.

A few other sleepy individuals were also taking the class but they seemed to perk right up when they were allowed to drink their failed lattes.

“Remember, you want to hear the kissy sound as you steam the milk!” Jay says as he paced between the machines.

Her first attempt results in her burning her milk. Her second is not much better, still too hot. The third and fourth are better but the milk is too bubbly.

“You can knock out the bubbles if your milk has large bubbles.” Jay says, tapping the jug on the counter. “There you go.”

The rosettas she attempts to pour are milky white blobs with no shape. Jay spends time with everyone, guiding their pours and showing them how to get it right. By the end of the class, Sakura manages to get some resemblance of a ripple in her latte. The milk needs to be more glossy and smooth - right now it just resembles a sad, frothy cloud.

The class distracts her just enough not to think too much about what transpired last night. Her lips would flare up in heat whenever her mind wasn’t on steaming milk and she’s sure it isn’t from the burnt milk lattes she keeps producing.

黑

She goes home after class and Tenten ambushes her as she’s taking her shoes off.

“You have a lot to explain, young lady!” she mock chides, wiggling her finger as if she were a disappointed parent. “I’m making pancakes.”

Tenten serves the pancakes with strawberries and nutella and Sakura hands her a coffee she made in class (the ugly excuse of the latte art disguised by the takeaway container, but at least the milk isn’t burnt).

“So, the walk of shame. And with your boss?” Tenten asks, a hint of cheek in her voice. There’s no judgement there, just a barely contained grin. “When were you gonna tell me he was your boss?”

“Nothing happened!” Sakura said hotly, “I just helped him get home, that’s all!”

“Bullshit nothing happened! I saw the way he looked at you last night - he looked like he was going to eat you. You must be doing really well at your job.” Tenten says with a wink.

It’s funny how Tenten is so easily able to read her. But Sakura doesn’t plan on telling a soul about last night’s kiss. Saying out loud would mean that it happened and was very much real and it would make the remainder of her tenure as Sasuke’s executive assistant so much harder.

“I swear nothing happened.” She feels guilty lying to Tenten like this. She decides to change the topic. “So what happened with Neji?”

Tenten looks thoughtful before replying, intent on balancing a piece of pancake and a slice of strawberry on her fork. Much to Sakura’s relief, Tenten seems to forget the matter of her boss in seconds.

“We just talked and he drove me home. He says he came back to help his mother with her massage parlour businesses but Hinata’s dad offered him a position at the family company.”

Tenten explains that Hyuga Tea is run by the Hyuga family as a whole, which included extended family.

“So why isn’t his mother involved?” Sakura asks.

“His mother isn’t a Hyuga, his dad was. What I don’t get was that he came back years ago but not once did he try to look for me. I mean, there’s Friendbook now so there’s no way he couldn’t find me if he wanted to. He could have just added me on Friendbook!”

They eat in silence for a while and Sakura knows Tenten is debating whether or not to tell Sakura something else. Sakura waits patiently, knowing that pushing Tenten to say anything would be a futile effort.

“He did something weird in the car.”

“What did he do? Did he-”

“No, nothing bad . Just, confusing. He didn’t wake me up when we got here. He just, brushed my hair out of my face and just sat there. What do you think that means? I mean, he didn’t really do anything at the club before that creep tried to dance with me. Everything up until then, I would have just assumed that he just sees us as friends, but guys don’t do that for girls who are just friends .”

Seeing Tenten confused over the behaviour of men wasn’t new to Sakura, but Tenten would usually dismiss it easily with a shrug and a “Screw it!”. Tenten just looked puzzled and slightly hurt.

黑

Sasuke had woken up on Sunday with a killer headache. The next time Naruto tries to drag him to a nightclub he’s just going to straight up refuse. Nothing good ever comes out it. His hand is a little sore and he doesn’t know why. Hell, he’d be lucky if he remembered what happened after he started downing shots like a man dying of thirst.

All he remembers is seeing Sakura in a red dress and asking her why she was there. She had said something cryptic to him not that he remembers what she said exactly.

He spends a good portion of the morning trying to figure out what happened and considers calling Naruto to ask, but decides against it. Naruto would love nothing more than to lord his alcohol intolerance over him and he doesn’t want to provoke that conversation.

Instead, he downs a few pills for his headache and makes a call.

“Welcome to Zero.” a smooth female voice says over the phone.

“Is Karin available for lunch today at 12:30?”

“Hello Uchiha-san. You know she always has time for you. Do you have any particular requests today?”

He thinks over it for a moment.

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese.”

“Sure, I’ll let Karin know.”

黑

Uzumaki Karin had been busy finessing her menu for next week's dinner service when Suki walks in.

“Sasuke wants grilled cheese and tomato soup. He’s coming in at 12:30.” she says. “What are you gonna make?”

Of course Sasuke wants something that features tomatoes. It’s hot out today though - hardly appropriate weather for soup. Karin isn’t fazed though. She already knows what she has in mind. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she grabs her chef jacket and gets started.

Lunch service is always special for Karin since she rarely accepts lunch guests. Getting Karin to do a lunch service is notoriously difficult - even more difficult than getting a reservation for her dinner service (which has a 6 month waiting list and an additional waiting list for that waiting list). She only allows personal friends or family to request lunch services - Kushina, for when she’s hanging out with her girlfriends or Hinata, her cousin Naruto’s fiance (who surprisingly is good company despite how quiet she can be) or even Suigetsu and Jugo. Of course Uncle Minato too - he was the one who helped send her to culinary school after her mother kicked her out of home for dropping out of university and had even helped her establish Zero.

Her favourite lunch guest however, is Uchiha Sasuke - Director of Uchiha Enterprises.

Naruto had brought him to lunch at Zero when they had first opened and she had been smitten with him since she laid eyes on him. She suspects most women are. He has a certain ‘bad boy’ type appeal - the suit (bespoke probably) and the watch (he favours his vintage Patek with the complications) contrasts with the somewhat disheveled hair and earring. Sometimes if he comes in on a weekend, she gets a glimpse of the tattoo he has, peeking out from the sleeve of his tee shirt.

While Sasuke may be by definition, handsome, his personality leaves much to be desired. He is always polite and cool, never going above lukewarm. Nonetheless, she enjoys looking at him when Suigetsu is being particularly irritating (like not replying to her texts within 10 minutes).

Today, he’s wearing a simple white tee, dark jeans and a bomber jacket. His sunglasses hide the hangover she knows he’s nursing. Naruto had drunk texted her last night.

NARUTO: omggg sauce ios soooooooo drinked

NARUTO: sauce

NARUTO: sporry its the fjuking auto cucumber

NARUTO: i mean auto cucumber

NARUTO: GOD DONUT

Karin doesn’t think she had ever laughed harder in her entire life.

“It’s been a while since you’ve visited me,” she pouts mockingly, “I was beginning to think you’d have forgotten me.”

Even though her romantic feelings for Sasuke don’t go beyond a silly crush, she still likes to flirt with him.

“Sorry. Haven’t had the time to come here.” he says, climbing onto the stool at the counter.

“Alright, here we go. Grilled cheese and tomato soup.” she announces, placing a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich before him.

He smirks. Karin doesn’t just serve him a simple “grilled cheese and tomato soup”. The “tomato soup” is a tomato gazpacho - vibrant, fresh and cool. The “grilled cheese” is a few different cheeses and pickles between two slices of thick rustic bread, pan fried in butter until it’s crispy and golden.

“Well?” she asks as he tastes the soup.

“You never fail to exceed expectations.”

It’s probably the closest she’ll ever get to a compliment from Sasuke.

“Anything to drink?” she offers.

She likes to play a little game with herself when she asks him this question. Sasuke has a funny habit where his mood influences his drink choices directly. Wine if things are going smoothly and he’s reasonably happy (usually cabernet sauvignon although he has been known to ask for a white wine if the dish doesn’t pair well with red), tomato juice is for when he’s a bit grumpy and needs a pick me up, whiskey if he’s got a lot on his mind (tea is sometimes substituted if he has to go back to the office). If he’s here with Naruto for dinner they’ll order sake or tea if they’re being sensible. Today, she predicts that it’ll be-

“Iced coffee. Thanks, Karin.”

Well, that’s new.

黑

Sakura had been featuring heavily in his dreams as of late. Her face is usually a bit blurry but the pink hair is enough for him to make the conclusion that it’s his executive assistant. The dreams are usually generic and a little indecent. Not enough for a cold shower in the morning but just enough for his thoughts to wander just a little.

That night his dreams take a different turn.

Her face is clearly defined - he could see every lash that framed her expressive jade green eyes, her alabaster skin coloured with a dark pink blush dusted across her cheeks and her pretty lips were parted just a touch.

He feels her waist beneath his fingers and he realises just how petite she is. He feels every fidget and hears her breath. His forehead rests on hers and their noses touch. Her lips feel so soft against his and he swears she leans in to close the miniscule distance between them.

His heart feels like its soaring and suddenly he wants more. So much more. He wants to leave burning kisses into her skin as if to brand her with him. He wants to feel her hand in his as she squeezes him tightly in more places than one. He wants to see her hair messy, disheveled. He wants to get lost in a jade sea, consequences be damned.

He wants her to want him as much as he wants her.

He wakes up on Monday morning at some ungodly hour, stiff and aching, wondering when the hell his imagination become so vivid and creative.

He arrives at the office and Sakura is nowhere to be seen. He’s worried for a moment, wondering briefly if he did something stupid on Saturday to scare her off but it dissipates when Sakura turns the corner, holding a fresh stack of photocopies and a mug of steaming hot something.

“Good morning, Dir-Sasuke.” she chirps.

Her reaction to him is her usual greeting and he sees his morning coffee on his desk, piping hot.

Business as usual, he supposes.

黑

Sakura finds it easier than she thought to act normal around Sasuke. He makes no indication that he remembers what happened on Saturday and that in turn it makes it easier for her to pretend that nothing happened either.

This morning she opts to get him his usual coffee - not quite confident enough in her own skills to make him his coffee herself yet. She did however, buy beans from the Milk Grind after class (she isn’t sure whether to expense them or not).

She wants to dismiss everything that happened and just get through the internship but a very small (and loud) part of herself won’t let it go.

She does a Moogle search her boss and reads articles about him and the company. His handsomeness was only the tip of the iceberg. He graduated first in his class and won awards for academic excellence, the number of awards eclipsed only by his older brother who graduated 5 years before him. Uchiha Itachi was Director before him for a few years before Sasuke was made Director.

There were multiple articles on the matter - it seemed to be a hot topic at the time. Most were objective but some more gossipy trashy news sources implied that Sasuke was power hungry and ambitious and had “dethroned” his brother using underhanded methods.

The Sasuke she knows (what little she knows) doesn’t sound like the ruthless, cold Sasuke the tabloids paint him as being. Sure, he's ambitious - he wanted his company to perform well and holds himself to high standards. The decisions he’s made for the company have always been for the good of the company and its employees - there was nothing ruthless about it.

Subsequent articles are more favourable, complimenting Sasuke on his business acumen. While Itachi had started reforms in his short term as Director, Sasuke was the one who continued them and improved them. There are some articles about company culture and the internship program too. Uchiha Enterprises rank in the top 30 companies to work for nationwide as far as employee satisfaction goes according to a study.

She sees and understands Sasuke’s vision for the future of the company from writing up documentation and doing preliminary research and analysis for him. Sakura can only feel admiration and a sense of pride that she’s a part of Uchiha Enterprises. The media vultures are only interested in selling ad space, views and daily sales.

As she keeps searching for articles, there are a few articles that aren’t about Sasuke’s professional work.

There are candid pictures of him in men’s magazines commenting on his style and ‘How to Emulate Uchiha Sasuke’s ‘Bad Boy’ Style’. It goes into excruciating detail as to which brands his ties, cufflinks and shoes are from. Apparently, his suits are bespoke. There's an article on a watch enthusiast blog that comments on all the watches he's been photographed wearing. Sasuke apparently collects watches because the article lists six, all of which adorn hefty price tags (some of which cost more than her intern salary).

There were pictures of him in women’s magazines of him out in public, touting him as one of the most eligible bachelors and speculations of his relationships. One article even has a complex looking chart with women suspected of being involved with him and a timeline to boot!

Sakura can’t help but be curious too. Even though she’s his executive assistant and she takes care of some of the more personal aspects of his life (like dinner reservations and dry cleaning), she knows absolutely nothing about his private life. She can only go off of clues.

Her initial observations of his staying at expensive hotel rooms don’t reveal anything about his private romantic life. His friend from Saturday - Naruto - is the son of the current Chairman of Uzumaki Resorts. It only confirms his close friendship with Uzumaki Naruto than anything else.

The flowers though, are another matter. The monthly bill for the flowers is from Flower Temple, an upmarket florist. A bouquet of mixed hydrangeas with gift wrapping. The delivery address is somewhere in the suburbs, one in which she recognises to be rather affluent. This reaffirms her “theory” that Sasuke’s lover or girlfriend or fiance or wife is most likely some kind of heiress or model. But if he really did have a girlfriend, surely she would have been with him on Saturday and that kiss wouldn’t have happened?

Whatever that was on Saturday, it doesn’t change Sakura’s professional admiration for her boss. It doesn’t change the fact that she should continue to do her best work for him, to take care of the small things so he can focus on more important matters. In the grand scheme of things, she’s a small fish swimming alongside a whale, a common tabby cat next to a majestic lion.

Back to work.

#fs-ficlet #ssfanfiction #ssfic #ssfanfic #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #nejiten #neji hyuga #tenten

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