#Rosie go give Croz a hug

[thatsrightice]

I’m just imagining Buck, Bucky, and the other POWs at Thorpe Abbotts asking Rosie and Croz about D-Day and Rosie and Croz happily tell them about the planning and stuff that led up to it. When they start to ask about the mission itself, Croz lets Rosie take over.

But then they turn to Crosby and are like “how about you Croz? I bet you were leading the whole shebang” and now he has to admit that he didn’t fly the mission, which he’s still very much upset about so he doesn’t elaborate much. Everyone’s outraged for him, like “They didn’t let you fly? Well, why the heck not?!”

Leave it to Rosie to quietly step in and explain that “He was in the hospital.” Eyes immediately snap to the navigator who is refusing to look at any of them out of embarrassment. “He was in a coma for three days. Malnutrition, dehydration, and sleep deprivation, you name it. Smokey said he just about worked himself to death up in Group Ops.”

And Crosby was going to protest, but nah that actually sounded pretty accurate. “Couldn’t keep a proper meal down for days,” he’d try to joke, but everyone just kept staring at him.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

…. I imagine you have a Billion of these requests and it might not tickle your fancy but I’ve been thinking of a

Post war bucky - meeting navigator reader ( who was transferred to thrope abbots whilst he was in the camps) reader is the warm softness he needs to help rebuild the new him that is worth knowing.. bonus reader being besties with Harry and Rosie

Again no pressure at all! I just don’t own your skill to turn these thoughts into reality! You have such skill miss thang ! I hope you know that 🤍

New Girl

John Egan X Navigator! Reader

Summary: Bucky meets a woman when he comes back from the camps...

Warning: Swearing/ kissing/ mention of death/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.3k

The 3 of them were sitting near the fireplace, Rosie just came back, and he survived his plane crashing. She was transferred to Thorpe Abbots a few weeks ago, she was a navigator, that’s how she became friends with Harry Crosby, then, he introduced her to Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal, the 3 of them quickly became friends. Crosby and Rosie kept talking about pilots that got down, especially Major Cleven and Major Egan. Rosie even said that her and Egan would be great together. ‘’You excited to go back home?’’ Rosie asked Crosby as he took a sip of his Coca Cola. ‘’Yeah, I, uh, I’m going to be a father’’ he chuckles, but he doesn’t look happy. ‘’Croz, that’s amazing. It’s good news, right?’’ she asked his friend. ‘’Yeah, but no, I don’t know how to be a father after everything.’’ He signed. Y/n gives him a sympatric smile as she listens the other navigator talk about his feelings.

Chaos was outside, Y/n got outside and saw that Harry and Rosie were running outside, near a plane that just landed. Y/n walked up to her friends and looked at the plane. ‘’What’s going on?’’ she asked, smiling. ‘’Gale Cleven and John Egan are back!’’ Crosby exclaims. ‘’They were the best pilots before me!’’ Rosie said. A brunette men came down a plane, a blonde came to hug him. ‘’Crosby!’’ the brunette exclaimed. The guys hugged as Y/n stand there awkwardly. ‘’ And who’s that beautiful lady?’’ the brunette asked, looking up and down at the woman. ‘’Lieutenant Colonel Y/n Y/l/n, and who are you?’’ she extended her hand for him to shake. ‘’Major John Egan but call me Bucky’’ he shook her hand. He kissed the top of her hand, making her blush.

‘’Y/n/n? Ready to go home?’’ Bucky asked the woman; she was saying goodbye to the children on the base. ‘’Yeah, I’m just saying goodbye.’’ She explains as she hugged Lily, a small girl that Y/n spend a lot of time with. ‘’Here, take my necklace’’ Y/n said as she took her necklace off. Lily took the necklace and put it on. ‘’I have to go now. Bye kids!’’ she waved at them as all the kids hugged her. John Egan looked at the scene, smiling at the woman. He loved the fact that Y/n was good with kids.

She poured herself a glass of water as she staired outside the window. ‘’Whiskey?’’ she heard a voice behind her. She turned to see Bucky, they decided to live together since they grew found of each other. They were friends, but they were in love, they just didn’t know it yet. ‘’Water, I can’t stand the sight of alcohol for a while’’ she chuckled. He laughed and asked for a glass of water too. She sat in front of him, drinking the liquid as they looked at each other. ‘’Buck’s weeding is next week’’ Bucky said as he drank the water. ‘’Yeah, I have to go buy a dress, do you want to come with me?’’ she asked. ‘’Sure, we’ll go tomorrow, I have my suit already.’’ He smiles.

She’d been trying on dresses for an hour, and she didn’t find any that she liked. ‘’I’ll go naked! I swear’’ she breathed out. Bucky chuckled. ‘’I’m able to read map and I helped with D-Day plans, but I can’t find a bloody dress’’ she kept complaining as she put on a dress. When she got out, Bucky’s mouth opened slightly, the dress was light green, long but not too long and had little sleeves. It suited Y/n perfectly. ‘’You look amazing in that one!’’ he compliments her, smiling. ‘’Really?’’ she was skeptical, she never really liked wearing a dress. ‘’Yes, you look wonderful!’’ he says again. Y/n blushes and looks at herself in the mirror, the dress was really beautiful. ‘’Yeah, let’s go with this one’’ she smiles.

The night was still young, Y/n was reading a book when she heard Bucky screaming. She threw her book away and ran to his room. Her night gown flew behind her with how fast she was running. She entered his room to see him seated on his bead, sweaty and breathing really fast. ‘’Bucky, what’s wrong?’’ she asked as she walked closer to his bed. He was in pure state of shock. ‘’Bucky, breath’’ she tried to help but this time, his nightmare was too much for him. She didn’t know what to do, usually her presence worked, and he would calm down. ‘’John’’ she whispered. She took his face between her hands to make him look at her. ‘’Breath, John. I’m right here, everything is going to be fine. Breath’’ she said, maintaining eye contact with him. His eyes were filled with distress, he needed help. ‘’Kiss me, please, Y/n, I need to kiss you.’’ He pleaded, his voice weak. Y/n didn’t even hesitate as she pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was filled with passion and love, it helped Bucky realise that she was there and not dead, like in his nightmare. When they pulled away, he was calmer, and he was smiling. ‘’You’re, okay?’’ Y/n asked, concerned for him. He nodded, smiling even harder. ‘’Who would’ve thought that it would take a nightmare for us to kiss’’ he giggled. She gently smacked his shoulder as she scoffed. ‘’You scared me’’ she breathed out as she smiled too. ‘’I’m sorry, I had a nightmare, you died’’ he explained. She hugged her friend as he smelled her. He was touching her, smelling her and he just kissed her; she was real, and alive. She just realized what happened; she just kissed him. Y/n was in love with him, but she didn’t know if he was feeling the same thing. So, she did what everyone would’ve done; she flew away. As Bucky watched her run away, he giggled, she was a nervous person. But tomorrow was Buck’s wedding, and he was going to dance with her.

She entered the room with Bucky, the reception was over, it was beautiful. Buck’s vows made Y/n cry; it was so beautiful. She was looking for Harry Crosby, she had to talk to him about what happened yesterday. When she spotted him, she practically ran to him. ‘’Croz!’’ she exclaimed as she hugged him. ‘’Y/n how are you?’’ he smiled. ‘’I’m great – ‘’ she noticed a woman holding a baby behind him. ‘’ Y/n, can I introduce you to my wife, Jean and my son Stephen’’ he says proudly. ‘’It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot of great things’’ Y/n smiles as she hugs Harry’s wife. ‘’Likewise, it’s nice to meet the woman my husband’s been talking about’’ she smiles. Y/n smiles as her and Jean talks. ‘’Can I talk to Harry for a second?’’ she asked. She nods as Y/n and Harry go for a walk.

Harry Crosby was crying for laughing that much. ‘’How could you run away?’’ he laughs. Y/n laughs as she let out a desperate sign. ‘’I panicked, but I really want to kiss him again’’ she breaths out. Rosie, who joined them, was laughing too. ‘’Then kiss him!’’ Rosie exclaims. ‘’Uh, I wish it was that simple’’ she threw her head back. As she did so, she saw Bucky, staring at her with a grin on his face. ‘’It is simple, love’’ he completed her sentence, making Crosby and Rosie laugh as they walk away from the scene, to let them have privacy. Y/n quickly gets up and walk up to him. ‘’I, uh, I’m sorry for running away yesterday. I panicked’’ she blurts out. Bucky smiles as he puts his hand on her lower back. ‘’It’s okay, Y/n, just kiss me again’’ he whispers. She breaths out nervously as she stands on her tippy toes, their face gets closer as their breathing quickens. ‘’I love you’’ she whispers. ‘’I love you too, love’’ he smiles as he leans in closer. Their kiss was passionate, his other hand went on her cheek to keep her closer. ‘’I love you so much’’ she said between kisses. ‘’Fucking finally!’’ they heard Crosby yell. ‘’Well, well, well’’ Buck chuckled. As they pulled away, they saw Buck, Marge, Harry, Rosie and Jean looking at them. Y/n and Bucky looks at each other before laughing. ‘’Are we going to attend another wedding?’’ Marge squeals. ‘’Maybe’’ Bucky smiles.

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Astronaut AU - Part 5

Masterpost

AU Summary: the boys as modern day NASA astronauts. Taking place in 2025, Bucky is about to head to the moon as mission commander of Artemis III while Buck is CAPCOM at NASA. Established relationship (obnoxiously in love).

Author's Note: We interrupt your regularly scheduled mission programming to bring you... a gay astronaut wedding? Please enjoy this wedding sequence that got away from me a little bit. Because they deserve all the happiness before Bucky flings himself off the planet.

--

October 11, 2025 Houston, TX

Gale has known that he would marry John Egan for years. He won’t be dramatic and say he knew it from the first day that that lanky, brown-haired boy came tumbling into their assigned college dorm freshman year, but… it was close. It was a sure thing well before their engagement, and not a day has gone by since then without one of them calling each other “fiancé” or “groom” or “bride” (Gale had eventually accepted that Bucky would never stop calling him that). Meeting John was a one-way ticket to the rest of their life. But Gale wasn’t prepared for how real it would feel today.

The venue they chose is perfect for something extravagant. Something worthy of hosting NASA’s best and the many other friends and families on the guest list, nearing 300 people total. Thousands and thousands of dollars went into this whole crazy day– one of Houston’s finest wedding locations decorated to the nines, enough food to feed hundreds of people, not to mention a huge wedding cake, a wedding planner and photographers and DJs and musicians, flowers and wedding favors and tuxedos that cost a fortune. 

But somehow, sitting in the venue’s designated bridal suite, it doesn’t feel extravagant at all. Warm, gentle light passes through the windows, illuminating the quaint little room and splashing off Gale’s face and perfectly coiffed blonde hair as he looks at himself in the mirror. Other than the photographer taking photos as he gets ready, it’s just him and his attendants: Marge as his maid of honor; Benny; Helen; Croz; and Crank, an old Air Force buddy. And, of course, Meatball. They’ve been hanging out in here ahead of the ceremony, drinking wine (white to ensure nothing stains Gale’s white tux), listening to good music, telling stories, and having a good time. 

Gale smiles at himself in the mirror and runs a hand anxiously through his hair. Marge, standing beside him, smacks it away. “Stop that!” she scolds. “You’ll ruin it.” His hand falls back to his side, his fingers twitching almost imperceptibly, just itching to do something with all of the nervous energy building up in his body. Marge grabs his hand to still it as she makes eye contact with him in the mirror and grins. “You’re getting married today, babe.”

“You know, there was a time everyone thought it would be us,” Gale chuckles as she moves in front of him to straighten his tie. 

She glances up at him, huffing in amusement. “Yeah, that was before everyone knew you’re gay as fuck for John Egan.” They both burst out laughing and she gives him a tight one-armed hug. The photographer takes a picture.

–

John can no longer really remember not wanting to marry Gale Cleven. He’s fantasized about those pretty blue eyes since the very first time he saw him smile, and he’s made it his mission to make Gale smile every day since.

That doesn’t mean he’s not freaking the fuck out, though.

In a suite on the other side of the building from Gale’s, Bucky’s groomsmen are living it up to try to keep his nerves down. Curt, as best man, has taken it upon himself to keep the mood light, the music going, and allow all the other men just enough beer to liven the room but stay appropriately functional for the rest of the day. Brady and Murph – two of Gale and Bucky’s friends from AFROTC – laugh loudly at some joke Alex told while Rosie scratches Pepper behind the ears. He sets down his drink and steps over to Bucky, who is staring at himself in the mirror.

Rosie gently pushes Bucky’s shaking hands away from his tie and helps him tie it properly. He offers a comforting smile. “Can’t have you looking sloppy on your big day.”

Bucky laughs warily. “Shoulda made you my best man.”

Rosie looks over at Curt who, in his defense, is looking diligently through the “Best Man Duties” checklist Marge had made for him, but, not in his defense, is doing it while dancing on a table. “Nah,” Rosie says. “He gets shit done in his own way, and I know you’d trust him with your life.”

“With my life, but maybe not my marriage.” 

–

Gale shrugs his shoulders and shakes out his wrists, taking a deep breath. Benny hands him a small black gift box, and Gale opens it, already knowing what’s inside. Delicately, he pulls out one of the cufflinks. Custom-made in silver, a beautiful likeness of the moon with a space capsule crossing in front of it. Today’s date is engraved in small lettering across the top. They were a gift from Harding, and he knows Bucky is pulling out matching ones right about now. He thanks Benny and puts them on.

“What’s better?” Crank asks as he watches from the ornate couch in the middle of the room. “Goin’ to the moon or marryin’ Bucky?”

Gale grins. He doesn’t say a word.

–

Bucky drops one of the cufflinks as he tries to get it on, and Brady snatches it before it tumbles under the couch. He hands it to Rosie, who takes it upon himself to put those on for Bucky, too.

“Are there gonna be reporters?” Bucky asks.

Rosie glances up at him as he secures the second cufflink. “Is that what’s got you so shaky?”

If we’re lucky-

No. Not today.

Bucky just blinks, clenches and unclenches his jaw. “No, but it doesn’t help.”

Curt hops off the table and shoves his crumpled checklist into his pocket. “There will be,” he says carefully, then rushes to continue, putting his hands up to placate the groom. “But just a couple, hand-selected by Marge.” Bucky takes a deep breath and tries not to let his nerves show. He fails. He’s been failing at that all day. Curt places one hand on each of Bucky’s shoulders. “They’re under strict instructions not to talk to you or Gale uninvited ‘cept when they get some pictures. And they ain’t allowed to talk to any of the guests on the record. Marge had ‘em sign a bunch of shit.”

Bucky nods and looks Curt in the eye. “Thanks.”

Curt shakes him gently. “Any problems an’ I’ll take care of it. You don’t worry ‘bout a thing.”

–

In Gale’s suite, Croz and Helen raise a toast to the groom – or, bride, if Bucky has his way – the best spaceflight partner, CAPCOM, coworker, and friend they could ask for. Everyone, even Gale, clinks their wine glasses together before taking one final sip.

Gale kneels down to press his face against the top of Meatball’s soft head. Meatball licks him on the lips, making him laugh. “Great, now I’ll have dog breath for my wedding.” Croz tosses him a mint.

–

As Bucky tries to tame an errant curl insistently falling over his forehead, he hears a shout behind him and spins around in alarm. Alex is lunging after Pepper as she hops clear over the couch, a small black box in her mouth, and runs to the other side of the room just as a photographer walks through the door. She slips right past his legs and out into the hallway beyond, Alex in hot pursuit.

“What the fuck?” Bucky exclaims.

Curt is standing stock still in the middle of the room. “She has the rings,” he says.

“What the fuck!”

–

When he hears shouting and what sounds like a stampede in the hallway, Gale looks up from the surprisingly sweet little note that Bucky had written for him to read while they get ready. “What the fuck?”

“Wait here.” Marge puts a finger up and slips out the door, opening it as little as possible in an attempt to keep Gale’s sanity intact. She’s glad she did. The entire groom’s party is wildly chasing Pepper down the hall. She reaches out and snatches Curt roughly by the arm. “Talk,” she demands.

He pants as he leans over to catch his breath, pointing after the fiasco ahead of them. “Pepper has the rings.”

Marge nearly slaps him.

–

The photographer gets an action shot of Brady tackling Pepper, with Bucky’s other 3 groomsmen and best man running up behind in a panic. It’ll end up being one of their favorite pictures from today… after Marge finishes being royally pissed off.

–

Back in the groom’s suite, the four groomsmen stand in a line in parade rest, chins held high. Pepper sits obediently at the end of the line, wearing a navy blue bowtie to match the others, and Bucky swears she looks like she knows exactly what she did, and she’s proud of it. The ring box is now securely in Curt’s pocket.

Curt walks down the line, carefully inspecting each of the men to ensure not even a hair is out of place and demanding they correct any imperfections. Four perfectly pressed and donned gray suits with navy blue bow ties and boutonnieres to offset Bucky’s deep navy tux. Curt nods in satisfaction and turns to look at Bucky, gives him a once-over as well. “Ready?”

–

Gale’s attendants stand in a loose circle as Marge checks each of the men’s suits – which match Bucky’s groomsmen – and Helen’s navy blue dress, which matches her own. She adjusts Meatball’s matching bowtie and turns to Gale, who is fussing with the boutonniere on his lapel. His fingers are twitching again, the only sign that he’s nervous, even though she knows he’s just not showing the full extent of it. She pushes his hand away and fixes the boutonniere for him. Then she looks him in the eye and smiles as she squeezes his shoulder. “Ready?”

–

Gale and John want to remember every single second of this day, but they won’t. It’ll go by in a love-hazed, celebration-filled blur with only snapshots and key moments to fill in the gaps. That’s okay, though. Maybe even a good thing. Perfect days aren’t meant to be wholly remembered. They’re meant to be felt. They’re meant to be looked back on with a dazed sense of sentimentality, of love, of I don’t remember all of it, but I remember it was the best day of my life. That feeling is what will get Gale Cleven and John Egan through the next couple of months. 

Here’s what they will recall:

The grand hall is even more massive than they remember, with vast marble floors filled with nearly three hundred seats and towering columns that stretch up past the mezzanine to possibly the highest ceiling they’ve ever seen. It’s elaborately decorated from top to bottom and end to end with navy, silver, and white decor including elegant and elaborate flower arrangements. Twinkling lights are strung from one side of the mezzanine to the other, crossing back and forth across the entire grand hall, and shimmering star-like decorations hang down from the mezzanine and upper ceiling. It’s a classy but subtly space-themed wonderland. 

Before walking down the aisle, they meet each other outside the entrance to the grand hall. Bucky can do absolutely nothing but stare in wide-eyed wonder with his mouth hanging open the first time he sees Gale. The photographer snaps a picture. 

Gale is in a perfectly tailored, bright white three piece suit with silver buttons, a navy tie, and a navy and white boutonniere. With the way the light streams in from the huge windows above, illuminating him from all directions, he looks like an angel. Bucky’s perfect, beautiful angel. 

Gale grins at him, already fighting to keep his eyes dry. “What? Something in my teeth?”

“You-“ Bucky stammers. “You. You’re… oh my god.” That’s it. That’s all he can manage. 

Gale steps forward and kisses him on the cheek before really taking in the sight of his groom. Bucky contrasts him beautifully in a deep navy blue suit, so dark it’s almost black, a gray waistcoat, light blue tie, and a white boutonniere. Their cufflinks, as expected, are exact matches, signifying not only their marriage but their legacy to this world. Everything that makes them whole in one little piece of metal. 

Gale reaches out and brushes his hand over the curl Bucky had spent so long trying to tame, making it fall over his forehead again. 

“Hey!” Bucky cries.

Gale just smiles. “You look more you this way.” 

They’ll remember Marge walking them down the aisle together. She’s in between the two, wearing a lovely navy blue bridesmaid dress and carrying a small baby-blue and white bouquet that matches the one Helen will be holding. Gale didn’t want to carry one – that was the line he drew – but they wanted the girls to have something to hold. 

A string quartet plays What A Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong, and Bucky walks on Marge’s right, Gale on her left, each holding tight to one arm as hundreds of people stand and watch them approach the altar. While planning the wedding, Gale had felt a bit nervous about who would walk them down the aisle; neither of them had doting parents left to do it. But this, he thinks, was the right choice. One of the most important people in both of their lives, the person who binds them together and keeps them sane. 

This, Marge thinks, is one of her proudest moments as a friend. The photographer snaps a picture. 

During the ceremony, Bucky is so besotted with Gale that, when it comes time for him to say his vows, Curt has to shove him gently to get his attention. Bucky can’t help but laugh, and everyone laughs with him. He shakes his head, bites his lip, holds tight to Gale’s perfect hands. He’s never been the best with words and he just so badly wants to get this right. “Gale,” he says. And he has to pause, because he’s worried for a second that his voice won’t let him do it. 

“Gale, I knew you were someone special from the first time I ever saw you smile. I knew that I had to hold onto you, and God knows I held on with everything I had. You know, teenagers always think they know what love is but, uh, wow, I was not prepared for you.” He releases one of Gale’s hands to wipe at his face with a shaky laugh before entwining their fingers once again.

“We’ve been through so much together. And I don’t know where I’d be, who I’d be, without you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that will ever happen to me, and I’m going to the goddamn moon next month so that’s saying a lot, because that doesn’t even come close to how in awe I am of getting to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re the most amazing human being I’ve ever known, and sometimes I still can’t believe how lucky I am. How lucky I am to be standing here, looking at you, with you looking at me like that.” 

Bucky shakes his head like he can’t even fathom what he did to deserve someone so perfect. Gale squeezes his hands tight, and Bucky tries to finish before he can't get the words out anymore. He wasn’t at all prepared for how emotional he’d feel today. “I am so proud of you and of us and of everything we’ve ever done and will do. I love you more than anything in this entire wild universe. I love you to the moon, to the stars… Gale, I love you more than any words could ever say, and I promise I will keep loving you, keep doing my best by you, for the rest of our lives.”

When Gale starts reciting his vows – “John Egan, I loved you the moment you barreled into my life, and I have loved you every moment since” – Bucky is suddenly glad he heard them last night, because his heart is pounding so loud and all he can do is think I love you I love you I love you.

He blinks away the tears that are threatening to spill and tunes back in as Gale comes to the part he didn’t hear before. “I love this life with you, John. Nothing makes me happier than waking up every day to you, going to sleep every night at your side. Nothing makes me prouder than watching you chase your dreams. And not a day goes by that I don’t think about how lucky I am. Because of all the possible places, all the possible times we each could have existed, the universe allowed us to walk this Earth together. Words can’t describe how thankful I am that you’re in my life. And I promise I will hold onto you with all I’ve got, I will love you with my entire being, until the end of time.”

When Curt gives them the rings, Bucky’s hand is shaking so bad he’s worried he’ll fuck it up. But Gale is there, steady despite the fact that his heart is racing and Bucky can feel it in the pulse in his wrist. And when they both say “I do,” they mean it more than anything they’ve ever said in their entire lives. 

When they kiss, it’s sweet and it’s passionate and they hold each other like the rest of the world has fallen away. The photographer snaps a picture. 

A room full of people is clapping and cheering. Benny and Brady whoop and holler and the dogs start barking in excitement. Then Pepper breaks free of Alex’s hold and nearly knocks down the happy couple. Meatball quickly joins her, celebrating right along with Buck and Bucky at the altar as they laugh and try to stay upright, try to keep two massive huskies from ruining their suits. The photographer snaps a picture.  

During the cocktail hour, the newlyweds and the wedding party run through staged photo after staged photo with every possible combination of wedding attendants and every possible picturesque background and positioning for John and Gale. Later they’ll think that no matter how much they paid their wedding photographer, it won’t have been enough to compensate for how elegantly he captured every possible moment. 

True to Curt’s word, there are two reporters with two different news outlets. At Marge’s direction, they were barred from photographing the ceremony, but have been granted the opportunity to take a few photos of their own during this time as well as throughout the reception. Bucky’s heart is beating too fast, trying to outrun the negative thoughts beginning to swirl around his brain. But the reporters smile kindly, congratulate them, and ask what type of photos they would be comfortable with them taking. 

They don’t say another word, other than offering some posing directions, until Gale says “do you need anything else from us?”

One of them, a lovely young woman, replies “only if you’re comfortable sharing a few words or answering some questions. I’m sure people would love to hear what you both are thinking on your big day!” Bucky wonders what lengths Marge had to go to to keep them so courteous. Curt is standing by, more like a bodyguard than a best man, ready to intervene. 

But Gale nods and strikes up a conversation with both reporters. Bucky’s ears are ringing, his hand holding too tightly to Gale’s. When Gale glances at him, a silent question – is this okay? – Bucky just gives a slight nod. It has to be. But he’ll never remember a word of what was said. 

He lets Gale do all the talking except for when the other reporter, an older man, asks Bucky what he loves the most about Gale. Bucky’s breath catches in his throat as he looks right at the guy like the answer is obvious. “Everything.”

The magazine and news articles that are printed about their wedding will be kind, written with cognizance, grace, and an appreciation for everything it stood for. The photographs will be flattering and genuine. They won’t mention that Bucky so clearly did not want to talk to them. All they’ll say is that John Egan was so mesmerized by his husband that everything else was secondary. They won’t be wrong. 

Bucky knows he owes Marge his fucking life at this point. 

When he starts to get fidgety, fiddling nervously with Gale’s fingers in his own, Gale looks over at him, kisses his cheek, thanks the reporters, and tells them to enjoy the reception. 

Then he takes Bucky by the hand and they slip away to a quiet corner before they have to go back into the grand hall. Gale holds him tight until his heartbeat starts to slow again. 

By the time the cocktail hour comes to an end, the amazing staff have transformed the grand hall into something somehow even more impressive, with neatly arranged tables and flowers and balloons and lighting in soft white and blue hues. The wedding cake, four tiers of navy blue with silver dusting and white flowers cascading down one side, sits on display at one end of the room, opposite the dance floor. The topper is a black silhouette of two men standing on a crescent moon. 

Gale and John re-enter, hand in hand, as the DJ announces their first appearance as newlyweds. When they take their place on the dance floor, all eyes are on them as Can’t Help Falling in Love plays over the speakers. 

Even with some spins thrown in, they manage not to trip. But for the most part they just hold each other, breathe each other in, know that they never have to let go. Gale thinks that he has never been more in love. Bucky thinks that this couldn’t be more perfect. They don’t even notice when the photographer snaps a picture. 

By the time toasts come around, Gale and Bucky haven’t stopped laughing and smiling since the reception began. There’s hardly been a moment where they aren’t touching, whether it’s a knee or a hand or an arm or a kiss. They sit together at the table of honor as Curt, in Curt fashion, climbs up onto his chair and taps his wine glass with a fork. “The maid of honor would like to say a few words,” he declares, before stepping down and helping Marge up. Gale worries about her up there in her heels, but then he realizes, it’s Marge. She’s fine. 

“I can clearly remember the night Gale first met John,” she begins, as she turns to look at them warmly. “It was when they first moved into their college dorm freshman year. Yes, everyone, that’s how long these two idiots have been in love. Because that night, Gale snuck into the stairwell and called me. The first thing he says is, ‘Marge, I don’t know if I can do it. This kid is the most chaotic, most talkative, most energetic guy I’ve ever met.’ So I tell him he just met the guy, give him a chance, and he goes on to list every single thing that’s wrong with John Egan.” The crowd laughs, and Gale blushes as he sips his drink, Bucky acting hurt even though he knows this story. 

They go quiet at Marge’s next words, though, laughter turning to awe. She smiles at the two of them. “And then he says ‘and my god, Marge, he’s beautiful.’” 

Gale just about turns bright red. Bucky kisses him lovingly on the temple as Marge goes on. “And, well, that was that. Neither one of them ever looked back. I have had the privilege of watching these two grow up together in the many years since. From the first time I saw them together, there was no question they were in love. I think I knew it before they did, but today was always where they were heading. No matter what the world threw at them, there was never anything that could keep them apart for long. There was never anything one could do that the other wouldn’t eventually forgive. There was never anything that could break them. ‘Buck and Bucky,’ we all say. ‘It’s just how the world is meant to be.’ We can’t imagine a life where these two aren’t attached at the hip, and I’ve known this to be true since they were just boys. So, to my boys.” She raises her glass in toast. “You‘ve built something incredible between you. The rest of us could only hope to be so lucky. I love you both, and I know you’ll have a beautiful life together.”

Curt helps Marge down and climbs back on the chair himself as everyone claps and takes a drink. “Man, I just spoke at this man’s birthday and now I gotta do it here, too.” Everyone laughs. “Alright Bucky, I’m gonna call ya John cause this feels like a sentimental sorta moment. So, I first met John – fuck, no, never mind. Can’t do that. Ain’t right… I first met Bucky when we both went into the service after finishing AFROTC at our respective schools. From day one, he wouldn’t shut up about this guy, Buck, from college. I thought he was crazy. Didn’t learn for weeks that Buck was actually Gale Cleven and was, in fact, not Bucky just talkin’ ‘bout himself in some weird third person. But he’d talk your ear off about Buck Cleven any chance he got. Buck this, Buck that, Buck’s at another base, can’t wait for you to meet Buck, you’re gonna love Buck, I miss Buck.” It’s John’s turn to blush. 

“And then it was even longer before I learned that Buck wasn’t just some guy he knew, some best friend he admired. No, Gale was basically Bucky’s reason for stayin’ alive, keepin’ some sense of self-preservation through all the crazy shit we did in the Air Force. He was the love of his life, the person he had to get home to. Two airmen, sometimes together and sometimes apart, but always holdin’ each other up somehow. It would’ve been sweet except for Bucky never shuttin’ up about it. It was insufferable, and I’ve been dealin’ with it for ten fuckin’ years.” He glances at Gale. “Gale, honestly man, you could do better.” Gale grins and rolls his eyes.

“Nah, but really,” Curt continues. “I didn’t know it back then, but these two would become my best friends, and they amaze me all the time, as individuals and as a couple. I only had to meet Gale once. See them together once. And I understood.” He smiles fondly at his friends, and it may be the most genuine Curt’s ever been in public his entire life. “All you gotta do is watch these two for a moment, and anyone can tell that the way they look at each other is somethin’ beautiful.” He raises his glass. “Here’s to you two fuckin’ love struck dorks.”

The rest of the night flies by in a blur. Music and dancing and singing and talking with friends and thanking people for coming. Bucky sings along obnoxiously to Blue Skies and Gale can’t hide his embarrassment. Someone jokingly asks if he already regrets his choices but he just laughs and shakes his head, says “not even for a second.”

Gale slow dances with Meatball. Then with Pepper, too "so she doesn't feel left out." Then, for the hundredth time, with Bucky, cause he literally cannot stand Gale being apart from him for that long.

When they cut the cake, Bucky’s hand just about engulfing Gale’s around the handle of the knife, it’s messy and imperfect and they can’t stop giggling like little kids. Bucky takes a handful of cake and smashes it into Gale’s mouth, smearing blue icing all over his lips and nose. Gale kisses Bucky through it and it’s sticky and sweet and the best cake they’ve ever tasted. 

At some point, Bucky locates and steals the bouquet that Marge walked them down the aisle with. He grabs Gale’s hand, pulling him away from a group of friends to drag him up the stairs to the mezzanine. He shoves the flowers against Gale’s chest. “Gotta toss the bouquet!” He insists. 

Gale rolls his eyes. “Bucky…”

“No excuses! It’s tradition.”

Gale motions between the two of them. “This isn’t exactly traditional.”

But then someone is announcing to the whole room that the wedding toss is happening and Bucky spins Gale right around so his back is to the rail. He kisses him gently behind his ear and says “you’re the most beautiful bride in the whole world.” 

Gale groans in exasperation, but he’s smiling anyways. “You better believe it,” he mutters. Then he covers his eyes with his free hand as people gather below, and he tosses the flowers over his shoulder.  

–

It’ll go down as possibly the best party in NASA Houston history. But what the couple will remember most clearly, most fondly, is what happens after, when it’s just the two of them alone in the quiet night. They’ll remember these simple moments, woven together with love and desire and care. Body and breath and soul. The way it all feels so different from just days before and yet not different at all. 

The ineffable connection between them. That’s what Gale will cling onto, dream about no matter how much it might hurt, on those days when he’s alone on this planet just hoping against hope for his husband to come home. 

They stumble up their front walk, not because they’re drunk but because they’re delirious, exhausted and giddy and in love to the point that they’re out of breath and out of words and nothing else matters other than being in each other’s arms. Gale opens the door, but Bucky grabs him by the hand. “Aren’t I supposed to carry you through or somethin’?”

Gale tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. “You realize you did actually marry a man, right?”

“Course I do.” Bucky smirks and puts his hands on Gale’s narrow hips. Everyone always thinks Gale is tall, built, broad. Until Bucky comes, slips an arm around his slim waist or grabs him by the shoulders or just generally exists beside him. Then all of a sudden, Gale looks small. The way Bucky towers over him makes his heart go wild. His eyes flutter closed as Bucky presses him against the door frame and puts his mouth next to his ear, nips at it gently. He whispers, “But you’re still my bride.”

Before Bucky can do whatever he’s about to do, Gale grabs his hand and tugs him roughly through the door and Bucky is not complaining. 

Somehow, they end up in the kitchen. Bucky opens the fridge and grabs the bottle of champagne they bought for tonight, expertly pops the cork with a delighted grin. They both take a sip. Then, bottle in his left hand, Bucky presses his right hand to Gale’s chest and pushes him back against the kitchen counter. Gale lifts himself up so he’s sitting on the granite countertop. They haven’t done a thing and his hair is already a mess, and he’s looking at Bucky like that with his lips parted and his eyes bright and the corner of his mouth ticking up in just the hint of a smile that says, like a challenge, now what?

Bucky steps between his legs, rests a hand on Gale’s hip, and looks him up and down, at that lovely white suit and the way it snatches his waist and accentuates his shoulders. “You look fucking amazing in this. But I need it off of you asap.” He starts working at Gale’s tie until it’s completely undone, hanging limply around his neck. 

Gale grabs the bottle of champagne and presses it to his lips, takes another sip, then cups Bucky’s cheek and kisses him softly. Bucky bites at Gale’s lower lip and, without looking, carefully guides his hand to set the bottle on the counter. When he pulls away, with hands far steadier than when he slid the wedding ring over Gale’s finger, he makes quick work of undoing the top few buttons of Gale’s shirt, lets the tie drop to the floor. Gale groans quietly at the gentle kisses on his collarbone, the teasing teeth at his neck, as Bucky strips him of his suit jacket, then his waistcoat. 

Not fair, he thinks, and with urgent fingers grabs at Bucky’s tie, his jacket, his shirt buttons. Equally urgent fingers twist into Gale’s soft hair. 

Gale pushes Bucky away, hops off the counter, presses him to the kitchen wall. Between kisses, Bucky undoes the rest of the buttons on Gale’s shirt. It falls to the tile below, exposing a muscular chest and torso, and Bucky rubs his hands up and down Gale’s sides. Then he takes his hand and leads him down the hall to the bedroom, gently pushes him to sit on the edge of the bed. He wants to fucking worship this man. 

They both kick off their shoes and Gale leans back on his elbows, cheeks flushed as he stares at Bucky in awe, watching him strip off his waistcoat and dress shirt. When they make eye contact, the same desperate and eternal thought engulfs both of their entire beings: beautiful. 

Then Bucky’s on top of Gale, pushing him back back back into the soft mattress. And when their hands come together on top of the sheets, they pause to marvel at two silver rings, glinting in the moonlight. Inextricably linking them to one another for the rest of their lives, no matter where they go or what they do. 

“I love you,” Gale whispers. 

“To the moon and back,” Bucky says breathlessly. And then he kisses him.  

--

--

Thank you to everyone who has been reading, liking, commenting, etc. Hearing your thoughts fuels my inspiration and makes me day!

Part 6

[hogans-heroes]

More cuddling headcanons for some of the other mota guys for @daysofxavierspast! Had so much fun and it got long 😁

Crosby: Sweet bean Croz passes tf out as soon as he gets cuddling with anyone. If you snuggle up with him on a soft surface you have about 2 minutes before he starts snoring, less if it’s been a rough day. It helps his anxiety to have someone pressed up against him and he has a hard time sleeping otherwise so he’ll just slump over or sprawl out on his cuddle buddy and…out like a log.

Bubbles: this boy cannot sit still or be quiet, he’s wiggling and giggling and whispering the whole time. He’s also a koala, wrapping his limbs around the person and thinking it’s hilarious when they can’t get out.

Kenny: I hc he comes from a family with a lot of kids so really gets into the sibling roughhousing affection. Play wrestling, shoulder bumps, tickling, full body hugs, all that. He’s so full of smiles and happy spirits that whoever is his target automatically has their mood lifted.

Rosie: he’s such a calm soothing soul that cuddles with him would be sweet. He loves to get comfy on the couch with some music or a book, maybe wrapped in a blanket, and just snuggle with the person, playing with their hair as they spend quiet time together. His hugs would be the gentlest and most comforting omg

Demarco: He has the vibe of being slightly awkward but gives the tightest hugs and genuinely loves simple physical contact. Also, cuddles with him mean cuddles with Meatball and that means tons of dog hair. You can’t hide any cuddle sessions with them, you’re wearing it for the rest of the day.

Brady: staying with the little sibling trope, he would need ALL of the person’s attention on him at all times in the cuddle. Think you’re going to try to do some paperwork while cuddling? Think again. He’s 100% gonna end up in someone’s lap at some point and is not choosy about who. He’s also not ashamed about whining that his selected person is not available to cuddle.

Alex: the absolute sweetest. Holds his cuddle buddy close and strokes their face and brushes their hair and just talks for ages. His favorite thing is to have the person in his lap resting on his chest. He’d press little kisses to their hair and face too.

Macon: dude tries to keep up the “hotshot pilot I’m too tough and cool for this sorta thing” facade but inside he’s a huge softie. Get him talking about something he’s interested in and pretty soon you’re under his arm with your legs over his lab and he’s playing with your fingers. Don’t know how that happened what are you talking about?

Daniels: I feel like I don’t have a good read on him yet. He seems like a very earnest and private person so I’d think he’s not big on PDA and might take a while to open up to someone. So whenever he puts a hand or arm on someone’s shoulder or pats them, sits close to them, it feels like a victory that he can be comfortable in this person’s presence. He might be too shy to acknowledge it though.

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is linked here <3

40. A Life to Start

“Yesterday morning at 2:41am, at General Eisenhower’s headquarters, General Jodl, the representative of the German High Command, and of Grand Admiral Dönitz, the designated head of the German State, signed the act of unconditional surrender of all German land, sea, and air forces in Europe to the Allied Expeditionary Force and simultaneously to the Soviet High Command.”

Freddie held her breath. Her arms, already wrapped so tight as to be uncomfortable around Croz beside her, tightened their grip.

“Hostilities will end officially at one minute after midnight tonight, Tuesday the 8th of May.”

Neither she nor Croz turned to look at each other. Their gazes were fixed on the radio in front of them and the calm voice of Prime Minister Winston Churchill emerging from it.

“But in the interest of saving lives,” Churchill continued, “the cease-fire began yesterday, to be sounded all along the front and our dear Channel Islands.”

Croz turned and wrapped Freddie up in a hug, so tight she could barely breathe. They were laughing, deliriously and breathlessly, loudly into each other's ears - so loudly they barely caught the rest of the speech.

“Finally almost the whole world was combined against the evil-doers, who are now prostrate before us. Our gratitude to our splendid Allies goes forth from all our hearts in this Island and throughout the British Empire.”

“It’s over,” Freddie whispered. She realised, distantly, that she was shaking in Croz’s arms. “It’s over,” she said louder.

“It’s over,” Croz confirmed.

“We’ve lost so much,” Freddie said. Her eyes suddenly, inexplicably, filled with tears.

She felt Croz nod into her shoulder. He didn’t speak just now.

This war, Freddie thought, which was over now with little more than an official piece of paper signed by official people in an official room, had taken so many lives. She had always thought it would end after merely a couple of years and she and Daniel would get married, but it had been four years since he’d gone down, six years since he’d left Oxford to become a pilot. It had always felt to her, somehow, that once the war was over the dead would come back. But they weren’t coming back. So many good men, all lost to a war which was finished.

“Come on,” Croz decided, sitting back and giving Freddie’s arms a squeeze. “Let’s go find your husband.”

Rosie was being lifted over the heads of many of the men on base when Freddie and Croz found him. Freddie stood back and laughed, pressing a hand to her lips as she watched because she knew how he hated to be the centre of attention like this. But he withstood it like a champ, and the instant his feet were back on the ground he was pushing his way through the crowd towards Freddie and clutching her against his chest.

“Can’t believe it’s over,” Freddie spoke into his jacket, holding on tight to him.

“Been a long time coming, huh?” Rosie answered her, pressing a firm kiss into the top of her head.

“Yeah,” Freddie agreed quietly. She tilted her head back so Rosie would kiss her and smiled when he did. “Home time soon,” she said.

Rosie’s eyes lit up. His smile was wide. “Home time soon,” he echoed back to her. “Still coming to New York?”

Freddie laughed. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

The party in the officers’ club that night was monumental. It far exceeded all other parties they’d had in there throughout Freddie’s time at Thorpe Abbotts. People were dancing on tables, alcohol was being poured over heads, jackets were thrown off and ties loosened and couples locked in passionate embraces wherever you turned - even couples who had not been couples before tonight.

For old times’ sake, Freddie, Millie, and Jem all drank whiskey out of a bottle Jem stole from behind the bar, giggling and bickering and joking as they always had at their sleepovers. Freddie was sitting in Rosie’s lap, Millie in Brady’s, and Jem was holding onto Paddy’s hand while the other girl stood behind her chair, her back turned while she spoke to Amy.

“Jem, will you come to New York?” Freddie spoke abruptly after a particularly long draw of whiskey.

“What business do I have in New York?” Jem asked with a laugh.

Freddie raised her eyebrows, as though the answer should have been obvious. “Mils and I will both be there, so I think it’s only right that you come.”

“You and Mils will be able to move because you’ll have married Americans,” Jem argued.

Millie let out a loud, high-pitched giggle and buried her face in Brady’s neck. The two of them weren’t married yet but they’d been talking about it non-stop since Brady had gotten back from Germany; he’d taken Freddie with him to pick out a ring, bought it, and had been planning to propose today before it had become VE Day. He didn’t want their proposal celebrations to be overshadowed, so he was postponing it a day, but by tomorrow night Millie and Brady would be engaged and Freddie wouldn’t be surprised if they raced down the aisle similar to how she and Rosie had.

“There are other ways to get American citizenship,” Freddie replied to Jem. “I’m sure of it. Aren’t there, Rosie?”

“Sure,” Rosie agreed.

Freddie opened her mouth to say something else but Jem cut across her. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and left it at that.

Freddie frowned but didn’t argue, just took another swig of whiskey and handed the bottle off to Millie before turning to Rosie. “Oh darling husband mine, will you dance with me?”

Rosie grinned, as he always did when she was dramatic with her terms of endearment - and, incidentally, when she referred to him as her husband - before setting down his beer and offering her his hand to help her stand. Soon after, they were curled tightly together on the dance floor, beaming up at each other with stars in their eyes as they danced to the love song on the gramophone.

The night quickly disappeared into the chaos of drinking. No one could really keep track of how much they had, they just knew it was a lot. And, at the end of the night, Freddie dragged Rosie by the hand to the plane he’d been flying his mercy missions in so they could make love in the back for old times’ sake, giggling on the way there and sighing as they lay together afterwards.

“You know, there are many things I won’t miss about the war but I think I will miss this,” Freddie spoke wistfully. She had her ear pressed to Rosie’s chest so she could listen to his heartbeat. The summer night air was gentle and cool on her sweaty skin. “Spending all night in the officers’ club with our friends and then sneaking out here to mess around in your plane. For so long we wished for a bed but there’s been something so magical about using this as our own private bedroom, don’t you think?”

“There’s been something magical about every minute we’ve ever spent together,” Rosie replied easily. His smile was audible in his voice. “Can’t wait to take you home and start making millions more memories with you.”

Freddie smiled and pecked a kiss to his chest. “I’m excited. A big king size bed all to ourselves in a house all to ourselves. I can see it so clearly.”

“Me too,” Rosie said, kissing the top of her head.

Freddie smiled softly until the smile turned rueful. “I still need to ask my parents about coming.”

Rosie paused. His hands, once running up and down her back, stalled momentarily. “Will you still come if they say no?”

Freddie sat up so she could look down at him and tangled her fingers in his messy curls. She smiled fondly, adoringly down at him. “Of course. I’m spending the rest of my life with you and I can’t best do that from the wrong side of the ocean.” Rosie laughed. Freddie grinned but her smile faded soon enough. “But I’ll find it so hard to leave them. I really hope they say yes.”

“Me too, honey,” Rosie replied. “Me too.”

The following day, the first official day of peacetime in Europe, was filled with many, many headaches and upset stomachs and dark bags under eyes. It was also filled with some intense conversations. Couples had to decide whether they’d be staying together or parting ways now that they wouldn’t be living in each other’s pockets on base, and if they chose to stick it out they had to decide where they’d be going. Others had to try to reconcile with themselves how they were going to live without friends who had become something closer than family.

Freddie and Benny had a decision to make.

Meatball was lying in the grass on the airfield between them, oblivious to the conversation about to commence, simply revelling in the warm summer sunshine. Freddie could feel the sting of tears in her eyes already because she knew she’d have to let him go.

“Fred…” Benny started and trailed off. His eyes were sad, regretful.

Freddie shook her head. “No, Benny, it’s okay,” she hurried to reassure him. “It’s - no, it’s okay. He’s your dog and I’ve only been looking after him and if I got too attached that’s my fault.” She had to stop talking because a sob had worked its way into her voice and turned it into a high-pitched wine. She had to press a hand against her lips to get her bottom lip to stop wobbling, had to fight hard to swallow the lump in her throat and push back her tears. “I promise it’s okay.”

Her eyes fell to Meatball, lying peacefully in the grass, and another sob wrenched itself out of her throat. Burying her free hand in his fur, Freddie let out a shaky breath and forced herself to pull herself together. “He’s your dog,” she reasserted firmly, regaining her composure.

Benny sighed and shook his head sadly, then reached forward to rest his hand on top of hers in Meatball’s coat. “He’s your dog,” he corrected her softly. “He’s yours.”

As though a door had been suddenly thrust open in Freddie’s head, tears came spilling down her cheeks. “Really?” she squeaked, letting out small sobs and shaking her head at her own lack of self-control.

“Really,” Benny confirmed with a quiet laugh. “He’s - look, he’s been with you longer than he was with me and he loves you. I can tell. He hasn’t enjoyed sleeping in the bunk with me and the guys and he keeps waking me up at 0700 so I’ll take him outside the way you do. He’s been sleeping on your blanket and running to you whenever he sees you in the distance. It’s -” Benny sighed, ran a hand down his face, and then let out a final, reluctant laugh. “It sucks, and I won’t tell you it doesn’t, but I levelled with myself back in the stalag that he would be yours by the time I got back. So I want you to take him. Ain’t no one else in the whole world I’d trust with him but you.”

“Oh, Benny,” Freddie cried, pressing both hands to her face and clearing it of tears before reaching across Meatball to hug him. “Are you sure?”

Benny laughed. “I’m sure.”

“I’ll take the best care of him,” Freddie vowed into his shoulder. “I’ll treat him like a real human son, I promise.”

Benny laughed once more. Freddie caught the tail end of his playful eye roll as she sat back from their hug. “Fred, you already do.”

Reluctantly, Freddie giggled, a watery, weak sound. “Yeah,” she admitted, sighing, still laughing softly, “I do.”

“‘Sides,” Benny added, “I’ll only be a couple hours away in Philly. I’ll just come visit whenever I’m missing him too much.”

Freddie sat up straighter and beamed. “We both would absolutely love that,” she declared.

Benny smiled, warm and bright, right back at her. “Then it’s a deal.”

With that settled, Freddie decided she wanted to get her final duck in its row before she set about conquering the huge, towering pile of paperwork she had to fill out to mark the end of Operation Corona. There was a whole queue of people waiting to use the air exec office telephone when she made her way over to it, everyone excited to share the end of the war with families back home, so that Freddie ended up waiting in line for over an hour before she was finally being put through to her parents’ landline.

When her mother came on the phone, Freddie couldn’t stop grinning.

“It’s over!” Freddie cheered down the line.

“It’s over!” Alma echoed. “Have you all been celebrating?”

“So much!” Freddie assured her. “We partied all last night. Today has been a lot of official paperwork and working out where things are going, though. And Benny said Meatball can come with me!”

“He did?” Alma asked. She let out a small gasp. “Oh, Wils, I’m so pleased. That makes me so happy.”

“Me too.” Freddie’s cheeks were hurting from grinning. “I’ve been dreading having to let him go. I started crying when Benny and I started speaking about it because I was so sure he was going to tell me he was taking Meatball with him. But Meatball will be coming with Rosie and I to New York, and how exciting is that?!”

“So exciting,” Alma agreed with a laugh. “When do you leave?”

“We haven’t decided yet.” Freddie’s smile turned sheepish. “We haven’t talked too much about the technicalities just yet. Nothing has truly started unwinding over here yet so we’re not sure how long we’ll have to stay. Rosie will likely be flying one of the planes home but I’m not sure when I should come and collect my things.” She shook her head, clearing those details away. “Anyway, this leads me onto my next line of thought. I wanted to run something by you.”

Alma hummed on the other end of the phone, letting Freddie know she was listening and encouraging her to go on.

But when the moment came, it was difficult for Freddie to get the words out. It was such a big ask, she knew, and her parents never liked to say no to her. They had always given her as much as they could, gone to the ends of the earth to keep her happy. But this? This was the biggest thing she’d asked of them by far.

Twirling the telephone wire around her finger, Freddie rested her head against the wall and shut her eyes, trying to tune out the many voices around her chattering excitedly about post-war plans. She summoned the image of her own post-war life to the front of her mind - she and Rosie in their house in Brooklyn, with Meatball and a baby, eventually, and her parents coming over with Bruno and Earnie every Sunday for a roast dinner to hold onto their British culture.

It was so close she could taste it.

“Will you come to New York with me?”

The words emerged in a hurry, all on one exhale of anxious breath, and hung heavy on the air between them like a stone dropped harshly into a lake when someone had tried to skip it.

Alma didn’t say anything.

“Will you?” Freddie prompted after a moment. “And dad and the dogs?”

On the other end of the line, Freddie could hear her mother’s sigh.

Her heart dropped into her shoes.

“There’s a wonderful music school there called Juilliard which I’m going to audition for, and maybe dad can teach there,” Freddie rushed to add, trying to flesh out the picture for her mother, trying to make her as excited about it as she was. “They’d certainly take him with all his experience and his talent. And there are so many parks - Rosie says Central Park is huge and that the dogs would love it.” She drew in a deep breath and let it go shakily, her shoulders relaxing now that she’d gotten it all out. Finally, in a small voice, she added, “And then we can all see each other all the time.”

Silence fell for one beat, two. Freddie might have thought the line had gone dead had she not been able to hear her mother’s breathing. And then: “Wils…”

Freddie shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “What’s wrong?”

“Wils, darling, that’s - that’s a really big request.”

“I know,” Freddie whispered. Her entire face fell.

“That’s a huge upheaval.”

“I know,” Freddie said again.

“Your father and I…” Alma sighed. “We love Oxford. We loved Vienna, of course, but we love Oxford. It’s our home. We’re happy here. And we are both so, so immensely pleased and proud that you’ve found love again, and we’ve always known that you would follow Rosie to America. But -” Again, she sighed, and it sounded as though she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Wils, darling, you have a life to start. You were still a teenager when the war broke out but now you’re a woman. You’re married and you have a life to live, and your father and I can’t live it for you.”

“I’m not asking you to live it for me,” Freddie objected softly. “I’m just asking you to stay in it. I’m not ready just yet but eventually Rosie and I will have children and I can’t -” Those damned tears were back in her eyes. Even the thought of it devastated her. “I can’t not have you and daddy around to help me.”

“Rosie will be there to help you.”

“Don’t you want to meet your grandchildren?”

“Oh, Wils.” Alma’s voice was so kind, so maternal, but so very far away. “We’ll come and visit, just as you’ll come and visit us back home. But everything that happened with Daniel - I think it’s made you too reliant on us, Wils, darling. And I don’t want that for you. I want you to explore the world and live your life. I left behind my parents to follow your father to Vienna and I don’t regret it for a second. Those were some of the happiest years of my life.”

“I don’t want to miss you,” Freddie choked out, swiping a thumb hastily under her eyes to catch her tears. “I miss you so much when I’m here, even, and I’m only two hours away! I don’t want to have to miss you and have you be so far.”

Alma swallowed hard. If Freddie didn’t know better she would have thought she was choking back tears of her own. But then she drew in a strong, steady breath and spoke softly into the phone. “My darling girl, we’ll talk about this another time. Right now is the first full day of peacetime and you should be celebrating it, not letting me hold you up on the phone.” Freddie could hear the teasing smile in her voice so clearly she could see it on her mother’s kind face in her mind’s eye. “Go and find Rosie and give him a big kiss and get excited about all the many happy years you have ahead of you in peace. That’s what the two of you have always deserved. Then call me back in a few days when you’re ready, and we’ll talk about it again.”

-

a/n:

big news! i'm both overjoyed and incredibly sad to announce that this story ends tomorrow! we have one more chapter and an epilogue ahead of us and i'll be posting them both at the same time, as i always have with my other fics.

not to worry, though! i have a tradition of publishing three bonus chapters afterwards, and i'd love to know your thoughts on what they should be! scenes from rosie's perspective? scenes which didn't make the cut? snapshots of freddie's life after the events of the fic? let me know!

i've also been writing another mota fic which i'll be delighted to start sharing soon. it follows an air transport auxiliary pilot named stella finley and how she absolutely will not under any circumstances risk losing her hard-earned reputation by getting involved with a man... until she meets bucky egan. it'll be up soon!

thank you all so, so much for your support on this one!! i have been so pleased to share it with you and hear your thoughts. one day left - it seems so bizarre!! but i really can't thank you enough for your love <3<3<3

[jakes3resin]

THE HALLUCINATION!BUCKY AU.... ive been thinking thoughts dude

do you think that the other boys would let that shit slide and lie to buck or nah? especially if they saw how bucky dealt with his disappearance, would they give him that clutch or nah

would the hallucination ever change? like degenerate or grow weaker?

does the presence of the hallucination help buck come to terms with his feelings towards bucky or nah

Personally, I think Croz and Rosie laid down a very strict 'Do not say Major Egan is dead to Major Cleven or we will find you' rule on base because they saw how bad Buck was feeling. Croz was just too soft asking after Bucky. Rosie looked like he was two seconds away from hugging Buck and letting him cry.

Buck also is very good at pulling on a mask to hide his emotions. You only see them if you've known him for a long time and learn the signs or if you're Bucky tbh. Most of the boys at Thorpe Abbotts only know the stories of Buck and Bucky not the men, so his mask fools them. The last of the OGs he can't fool like Harry, Jack, Douglass, and Blakely, and I do think when they notice him turning to his side with a smile they know he only showed Bucky or muttering something under his breath to no one, they don't say anything. They've all lost someone, and if this is how Buck needs to cope, they just try to keep him stable. They simply try to be there for him how they can. The new guys don't see a thing because Buck is good at hiding.

I don't see the hallucinations degenerating even years down the line (if Bucky actually dies). I think they'd grow actually because the more time that passes, the more Buck clutches to what little he has left. I do think occasionally the Bucky he sees degenerates as in he sees the Bucky that walked into Stalag Luft III covered in blood or on a really bad day he sees a Bucky with a bullet hole in his head (on his head? I'm tired I can't remember which is grammatically correct).

Hallucination Bucky would definitely help Buck come to terms with his feelings for Bucky if he hasn't already. In my AUs most of the time the pair of them are already together, so Hallucination Bucky is just a sign, a heartbreaking soul destroying sign, that Buck loves his John so much he can't let go.

I love talking about Hallucination!Bucky and your ask was amazing!!!

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Taking Comfort (In Your Arms) - Chapter 12

October 13, 1943, 1000 Hours

The next few days after Bucky went down passed slowly for Addie. Twenty-four hours after she had gotten the news, she said goodbye to Rosie and his crew as they were sent to Coombe House, a flak house for a week of R&R. Harding felt they had seen too much in their first three missions and wanted them to have time away from the base.

“You take care of yourself, Addie.” Rosie gave her a look, hesitant to turn and leave her. The last 24 hours had been quiet on base and her sobs had been loud amongst the silence.

She looked at him with red-lined eyes, hurt obvious in them. “I’ll miss you Rosie. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you when you get back.”

He nodded, pulling her into a hug. He squeezed her tight, his heart conflicted with being with his men and looking after her. “Day by day, minute by minute, Addie. Remember that, okay?”

“I’ll be alright. Probably will be right here waiting for you when you return.” She gave him half a smile as he nodded.

Giving her another squeeze, he turned walking towards the jeep where his men were waiting for him. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw Crosby had stepped up to stand beside her in his absence.

Addie was sad to see him go as he had been a comforting presence in those few days, making sure she took care of herself. And now with him gone, Crosby was stepping up to the plate in Rosie’s absence.

“Did you eat yet this morning?” Crosby asked, stepping up to her desk, arms crossed, eyebrows raised at her.

Throwing down her pen, she leaned back in her chair, raising an eyebrow at him. “Yes, dad. Had two eggs over easy and a piece of toast. Also had two cups of coffee and an orange juice. Took Meatball out for a long walk through the wildflowers too. Also got six hours of sleep before the nightmares started.”

“Alright smartass. Just making sure.” Crosby shook his head. “And I’m sorry about the nightmares.”

She sighed, shrugged. “At least I got some sleep before they started, unlike that first night.” Reaching across her desk, she picked up a folder, flipping through the contents before handing it over to him. “You’re going to need that for your meeting with Harding. He’ll explain everything.”

Flipping the folder open, he flipped through the pages, whistling. “They’re sending me to Oxford?”

“High knobbing with the Brits, Croz.” She gave him a grin, sarcasm heavy on her voice. “Don’t forget us peons when you return.”

Crosby laughed, flipping his wrist to look at his watch. He lightly tapped her shoulder as he walked by. “See you later, Addie.”

“See you Croz.” She watched him walk into Harding’s office, closing the door with a wink in her direction.

Addie chuckled, turning back to her desk, eyes scanning the various piles she had laying there. Picking up a stack, she flipped through them, pushing back and walking to the filing cabinet and getting to work.

Forty-five minutes later, she listened as Harding’s office door opened and Crosby stepped out with a grin. Turning from the cabinet, she gave him a look. “Good meeting?”

“So good that I got a gold star for my service.” Crosby chuckled, causing her to laugh.

“And when do you leave?” She inquired, shutting a cabinet. A sad smile was on her face as he looked at her.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “This afternoon - 1300 hours. Taking the train to Oxford.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about your adventures. Never been to Oxford.” She confessed. “Should be a good conference from what I read.”

Crosby nodded. “Want to tag along? We could cause some trouble for the Brits.”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay here but thanks for the offer.” She laughed, shaking her head.

He nodded. “Harding wanted to see you. Probably shouldn’t keep him waiting much longer.”

She squealed, giving him a look before punching his arm. “I’m blaming my tardiness on you, Croz!” She pointed a finger at him, causing him to laugh loudly while she walked around her desk, heading to the CO’s office.

Knocking on the open door, she stepped into the office with a raised eyebrow. “Crosby said you wanted to see me.”

“Come have a seat, Addie.” He pointed to the chairs in front of his desk as she did what he asked.

Butterflies crept into her stomach as she thought back on what he could have wanted to talk to her about. She knew the last few days had been hard but she really hoped he wasn’t dismissing her and sending her packing. “Anything wrong, sir?”

“Just a couple of things. First, I wanted to check in with you to see how you’re doing. Do you need some time away?” He asked, leaning forward, linking his hands together, giving her a look.

She swallowed, quickly shaking her head. “No! Please don’t send me away - I am coping, sir. It’s just hard.”

Harding gave her a sad smile, frowning at the words she failed to say. “No one is sending you away, Addie. To be frank, you’re the best secretary I’ve ever had and I’m not willing to give you up. You’re stuck here. Now I was just checking to see if you need some time away from base with everything that has happened.”

“I’m coping, sir. Taking it one day at a time.” Her voice dropped, eyes looking anywhere but the CO in front of her. “Trying to keep busy and not think about what might be.”

He nodded. “Good attitude and outlook. Second, this is yours. You have 48 hours free - figured you might want to go see your father for a bit.”

Accepting the piece of paper he handed her, she looked at the pass, eyebrow raised. “I don’t understand. I just had leave a few days ago.”

“With Rosie and Crosby off base, Bowman figured you could use a break from this base, despite just having a pass. Figured a change in scenery might do you some good.” Harding sat back in his chair, lighting his cigar. “I’m inclined to agree with him. You have kept this base moving since I arrived here. Now it’s time for you to take some time for yourself. Forty-eight hours - go see your father and friends.”

Biting her lip, she gave him a look. “Thank you sir. Is there a ferry heading that way?”

“It’ll be here at 1400 hours to pick you up. Your pass starts then. There’s a ferry coming back in 2 days and you’ve got a seat on it, unless they need a plane ferried here, then you’ll bring that back with you.” Harding chuckled, as she rolled her eyes at his joke.

Pushing up from the chair, she gave him a look. “Need me to do anything else before I head out?”

“Take care of yourself Addie. I know Buck and Bucky are a huge loss but you won’t do them any good to let yourself waste away. Know that you have a family here on base and we’ll do anything for you - you just need to ask.” He said, a small smile on his face.

She chuckled. “Are you talking as a sudo-brother figure or as my CO?”

“A mixture of both.” He chuckled. “You’ve become a pain in the butt much younger sister that I didn’t ask for.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Happy to do so, sir.”

Giving him a look, she took her leave from his office, walking back to her desk. Taking a seat, she looked at the surface, trying to figure out what needed taking care of before she left for Ratcliff.

1330 Hours

Zipping up her bag, she sighed, looking around the room to see if there was anything else she needed to grab before she took off. Seeing the “Guys and Dolls” book sitting by her bedside table, she grabbed it, tucking it into her bag. Meatball lounged lazily on her bed, watching her with sad eyes. She was adamant that he wasn’t to be left behind, promising him that she would bring him with her, refusing to let him lose another one of his humans.

John’s sheepskin jacket was draped over the end of her bunk, and she made a mental note to grab it before she headed out. She hadn’t let that jacket of her sight since Kidd had given it to her and she definitely wasn’t going to leave it behind.

Picking up her bag, she grabbed the jacket, clipping Meatball’s lead before heading out the door, him by her side. Her eyes scanned the tarmac, watching a C-47 land smoothly on the runway, taxiing to a nearby hardstand. Figuring that was her ride, she and Meatball headed that way.

Kidd and Harding were already on the hardstand, leaning against the jeep, watching the pilot jump down from the hatch. Walking up to the hardstand, she gave the two men a look, grinning brightly at the woman that had joined them. “Lydia, you’re here!”

“We got a message to stop by and pick you up before heading back to Ratcliff. Figured you’d like a familiar face flying you back.” Lydia smiled, shaking hands with Harding and Kidd after greeting them both.

Harding gave Lydia a look. “Take care of our girl, Captain Anderson.”

“She’s in good hands, Colonel.” Lydia grinned, making her way around the plane, starting her pre-flight checks.

Looking at Harding and Kidd, Addie smiled. She threw her bag to the ground, shrugging on Bucky’s jacket. She zipped it up, bending down to pick up her bag, holding out a hand for the men to shake. “Thank you for everything. I’ll see you both on Friday.”

“Addie?” Kidd called, giving her a look. “Try to relax a bit. If we hear anything, we’ll contact you at Ratcliff.”

Addie nodded. “Appreciate that, Jack. Thank you.”

Walking up to the bird, she quickly threw her bag in before hoisting Meatball up before hopping up herself. Making her way from the back of the plane to the front, Lydia gave Addie a look. “You flying with me in the yolk?”

“Didn’t know how many people you were picking up along the way?” Addie raised an eyebrow, grinning at her best friend.

Lydia chuckled. “You and the dog are my passengers. Just happened to be flying over Thorpe and made a pitstop.”

“Well then, sure I’d love to be your co-pilot. C’mon Meatball.” She grinned, following Lydia up to the yolk.

Lydia sat down in the left seat, watching her best friend take the other seat. Meatball settled behind her seat, sighing as he laid his head on his paw. “You got a dog?”

“Kinda.” Addie shrugged. “His owner went down with Buck a few days ago. Meatball would hang out with me when the boys went up. I promised him that I wouldn’t leave him behind, hence why he’s coming along. Lydia, this is Meatball, our base’s mascot. Meatball, this is my best friend, Lydia.”

Lydia reached behind the seat and gave his scruff a rub. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a dog as a passenger but glad it’s you and him for the first time.”

“Ready when you are, Lyd.” Addie grabbed the checklist, ready to recite the words that had been ingrained in her.

Twenty minutes later, they were airbound, smooth skies ahead. Looking behind her seat, she saw Meatball sleeping soundly, causing her to smile.

“So, do you want to talk about the elephant in the yolk or wait until we’re on the ground?” Lydia broke the silence, looking over at her best friend.

Addie sighed, letting her head drop back to the headrest, eyes looking up at the clouds above them. “Do you know what happened?”

“Your dad got a call yesterday I believe letting him know that Buck and Bucky both went down. Your dad couldn’t leave the base so he called up Harding asking if you could go to Ratcliff, hence why you got another 48 hours pass.” Lydia sighed.

She nodded, figuring that was how it had played out. “Dad’s worried about me. Haven’t talked to him yet but I can only imagine what he’s thinking.”

“I think we are all.” Lydia admitted. “You and Bucky are so good together and for him to go down with no word, is hard. I think your dad wanted eyes on you to check in with you to make sure you’re okay. Anna was really worried about you as well so it’s a good thing you’re coming for two days.”

Addie nodded. “Happy to get off base for a bit. The two people that have been checking up on me are also off base. One’s at a Flak House and the other is going to a conference, hence why I think my CO wanted me off base. Airfield feels lonely without the boys around.”

“Well we’re happy you’re going to be with us for a few days.” Lydia smiled. “Though my base might attempt to kidnap your dog.”

Reaching behind her, she rubbed Meatball’s scruff as he sighed in content. “Not happening on my watch. He’s coming back home with me in two days. Though, I’ll share him with the boys.”

“Knowing the boys, they’ll be happy to see a dog.” Lydia said, before radioing into the tower requesting landing instructions.

The tower radioed back and before Addie knew it, the C-47 was smoothly landing on the tarmac with a gentle bump. Watching Lydia navigate the plane onto the hardstand, she noticed people standing off to the side waiting for them. “And the welcoming committee awaits.”

“Want me to tell them you need some space?” Lydia gave her best friend a look, shutting off the engine. “Seriously, do you want me to?”

Shaking her head, Addie bit her lip. “No, I'll be fine. Just would rather talk once than to repeat the same thing over and over again.”

Exiting the plane, Addie took a deep breath, hoisting Meatball down. Once on the ground, she clipped his lead back on, leading him over to where the welcoming committee was. She heard Lydia behind her, dropping both of their bags onto the tarmac. She eyed her father and Anna both standing there, concerned looks on their faces.

“I’ll take him. You go greet them.” Lydia spoke softly, taking hold of Meatball’s lead.

Nodding, Addie smiled. “There’s a b-a-l-l in my bag that he’ll play with if you want to grab it.”

She watched Lydia grab the tennis ball, chuckling as Meatball discovered what she had grabbed and was jumping and prancing excitedly. Lydia unclipped his lead, throwing it to Addie, laughing as Meatball tore off excitedly chasing it down.

Sighing, Addie turned back to her dad and Anna, crossing the distance between them. Immediately as soon as she was within arms length, her dad pulled her into a tight hug, causing tears to well in her eyes. A sob escaped her mouth as she threw her arms around his shoulders.

The two stayed embraced on the tarmac for what felt like hours but really was only minutes. Stepping back from the embrace, she ran her pointer finger under her eyes, catching any stray tears. Sighing, she smiled shakily at her dad. “Hi dad.”

“Hi Adelaide.” He smiled. “How are you doing?”

If there was one question she was tired of hearing, it was that question. She shrugged, sticking her hands in Bucky’s jacket. “Doing as well as I can. Taking it day by day.”

“Has there been any word?” Her dad asked, Addie watching Meatball run happily with the ball in his mouth.

“Can we get some coffee and a comfy place to sit before I start talking?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Nodding, her dad agreed. “Go say hi to Anna then we can go somewhere and catch up.”

“Anna and Lydia too - I only want to talk about this once.” She agreed, walking over to Anna and pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, Addie. I’m glad you’re with us for a few days.” Anna ran a hand up and down her back, soothingly.

Pulling back from the hug, Addie smiled weakly. “Me too. Let me get Lydia and Meatball, then we’ll go somewhere and talk. I only want to answer questions once.”

Anna nodded, walking over to grab her bag as Addie whistled for Meatball. He obediently came to sit down by her side, the tennis ball clenched in his jaw. Grabbing the ball, she reached down and gave him some pats. “Good run, buddy?”

Yelping, he panted hard as she looked at her friends and dad. “Lead the way.”

Following behind them, her eyes roamed over the busy airfield, seeing a few Mustangs and B-17s lined up on their handstands. She smiled seeing a Spitfire land smoothly onto the tarmac. Jogging to catch up, she sighed, her heart a little lighter than it had been in the last few days. Taking a deep breath, she felt her shoulders relax a bit.

Walking into the hut, she chuckled to herself as it looked exactly like the one at Thorpe. Following down the aisle, she stopped at the table that her group had chosen. A waiter stopped by the table as her father ordered coffee.

“Can I also get a bowl of water?” She asked, eyes looking between the waiter and the dog who was waiting to see what she would do. Pulling out a chair, she sat down, the dog flopping down behind her chair with a huff. The waiter smiled at her, nodding before scurrying away.

The three people around her were unusually quiet. Shaking her head, she leaned back running her hand through Meatball’s fur, one of the things that had calmed her in the last few days. The rattling of porcelain caught her attention as four cups of coffee were placed on the table. Taking a deep sip, she gave Anna, Lydia, and her dad a look. “Since when have you all been shy? You can ask the questions I know you all have.”

“Have you heard any updates?” Anna asked as Addie ran her finger around the rim of her coffee cup.

Shaking her head, she bit her lip. “No. Buck went down during the Bremen mission on the 8th. Bucky called the base while we were in London and found out the news. We returned and Bucky went down on the 10th somewhere near Münster. We haven’t heard anything and the base has attempted to find out any information on them.”

“You have a dog now?” Her dad asked, looking over the table to where Meatball was laying.

Addie smiled, chuckling. “Meatball is DeMarco’s dog but anytime the boys go up, he would often stay with me. So yes, I have a dog now, just until DeMarco comes home. He was flying with Buck the day they went down so until we know . . .”

“What’s the plan now?” Lydia asked, after taking a sip of her coffee, raising an eyebrow at Addie.

Leaning back in her chair, she stretched her legs out, picking up her coffee cup, taking a deep sip. “I’m going to be at Thorpe for the foreseeable future - Harding has assured me of that. There’s a new crop of pilots coming to the base so I’m sure I’ll be busy with setting things up for them. I’m sure the men will keep me busy, which I prefer to be anyways.” Looking at her dad, Addie gave him a look. “Did you let Charlie or Elizabeth know?”

Shaking his head, he took a sip of his coffee. “I talked to Charlie this morning and let him know so you’ll probably hear from him. Elizabeth is deep in France and I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks. Have you heard from her?”

“I got a letter earlier this month but it’s been two weeks since I heard from her. I wrote her a letter right before I went to London but haven’t written her since.” Addie confessed, adding a reminder to write her sister a letter soon.

Anna smiled at the mention of Charlie. Addie gave her a friend a look, grinning mischievously. “Have you seen Charlie lately?”

“As a matter of fact,” Anna grinned as Lydia laughed, “saw him two weeks ago while he was on leave. Flew up here for his 72 hour pass. He’s doing well and hoping to get back to England soon.”

Shaking her head, Addie sighed. “He’s been trying to get back to England for 2 years now. It’ll be a cold day in hell before he gets back here.”

Lydia and Anna both laughed at that as her father shook his head. “Well, some of us need to get some work done. Ads, will you be staying at the house or here on base?”

“Probably the base - I'll just bunk with the girls, if that’s okay?” Addie looked at her friends, both grinning in agreement.

Pushing himself to stand up, her dad gave her a look. “See you for dinner tonight?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll try not to make trouble for you, dad.” Addie grinned innocently, her father laughing as he made his exit.

Addie, Anna, and Lydia watched as the doors closed behind him before Addie turned to her best friends and their knowing smirks. “I know you want to talk about London and were patiently waiting, so go for it.”

“How’s John Egan as a lover?” Lydia leaned forward, chin on her open palm as the waiter at the next table fumbled silverware, causing the girls to laugh.

Grinning mischievously, Addie chuckled, dropping her voice so no one would overhear. “And how do you know that happened?”

“I was born at night but it wasn’t last night.” Anna gave her friend a mock look. “You’re telling me that you and your boyfriend didn’t go all the way to London alone and not have some sexy time?”

Groaning, Addie usually wasn’t one to kiss and tell but it did feel good to reminisce and think about John Egan and their time together before all went to shit. “He’s the best lover I’ve had. He’s so attentive.”

“C’mon Adelaide. Give us something more.” Lydia whined, giving her best friend a mocking look. “I need something . . . it’s been months.”

Sighing, she dropped her face into her palm, before grinning at her friends. “We may or may not have gone three rounds.”

Addie threw her head back laughing as her friends’ jaws dropped at the news. “Three, Addie!”

“Uh huh. Like I said, very attentive.” She raised her eyebrow, picking up her coffee cup, smirking.

“Damn girl.” Anna swore, Addie giggling in response. Placing her coffee cup down, Addie pointed her finger at Anna. “Now this doesn’t give you permission to divulge on anything you get up to with my brother. I don’t want to hear anything.”

Anna nodded. “Eventually when that happens, mums the word.”

“Appreciate that.” Saluting Anna, Addie grinned. “You two flying the next couple of days?”

Lydia nodded. “Supposed to fly over to Seething tomorrow but should be back early afternoon. Is there something you want to do while you’re here?”

“Get out of my own head for a bit and not cry every day.” She admitted, giving the two girls a look.

Anna slapped the table. “Wine or Whiskey?”

“Whichever one isn’t going to give me the biggest hangover.” Addie quipped back with a bright smile.

Lydia nodded. “Consider it done. We’ll drink after I get back from Seething.”

Sighing, Addie nodded, instantly agreeing to go along with whatever plan thet two would concock. It would be good to spend some time with the two girls that had seen her through so much in such a short amount of time.

October 15, 1943, 1000 Hours

Standing in the sunshine flanked by Anna and Lydia, she had her aviators on, throwing the tennis ball for Meatball to chase after. She was trying to tire the puppy out before their flight back to Thorpe.

A lot of men had come up to her and started asking her about the dog, Meatball eagerly lapping up the attention from all the men. They had spent the morning watching several B-17s land, each bringing a hoard of new replacements.

Addie’s heart had lurched a bit seeing all the fresh faces, excitement ruffling through them as they passed by the girls.

Somewhere along the way, someone had brought out a tin bowl of water for Meatball, the dog eagerly lapping up the cool water. Leaning back against the jeep, Addie smiled feeling the slight breeze ruffle her hair. Running a hand through it, she untangled a knot, eyes scanning over the airfield as her breath caught in her throat, causing her to cough.

“You okay?” Anna asked, looking over at Addie with concerned eyes. “What is it?”

Addie’s eyes went wide behind her aviators. “I recognize one of the replacements. Someone I never thought I’d see again.”

“Who is it and which one?” Anna came to lean against the jeep alongside Addie.

Nodding over to the group of 20 or so men, Addie dropped her voice to a whisper. “The man with the cocked hat and the red scarf. He’s the bastard that ruined my career.”

“Seriously? That’s your ex-fiance? Well I can see the appeal, not that I’m looking. Still a rat bastard for what he did to you.” Anna raised her aviators, putting them on top of her head as she looked over at the man. “Want me to kick his ass?”

Addie laughed. “He’d probably enjoy that a bit much. Nah, I kinda want him to realize I’m still here. Also, if you’re good with any of the instructors, can they make his life hell?”

“Oh you want to make his life a living hell in other ways.” Anna chuckled. “I can talk to the instructors and tell them to give him hell.”

Nodding, Addie looked from her friend to the men congregating. “That’s the infamous Ryan Murphy, aka the bastard that I’ve cussed more than once. Last I heard, he was making his excuses on why he couldn’t fight. His number must have finally been called up.”

Pulling her eyes away from them, she watched Lydia walk over to the two of them, a wicked grin plastered on her face. “You two look serious. What did I miss?”

“Addie’s ex-fiance is standing right over there in the red scarf.” Anna whispered, looking between the men and her two friends. “We were trying to figure out how to make his life a living hell.”

Lydia’s eyes went wide looking at Addie. “Can I go kick his ass?”

“Like I told Anna, he’d probably enjoy that too much.” Addie mentioned, leaning down, picking up the discarded tennis ball, bouncing it a few times to gain Meatball’s attention. He came over to her jumping a few times as she strategically threw it towards where the men were gathering.

“What are you doing?” Lydia asked, surprised by Addie being that brash.

Addie laughed. “Just watch and see.”

As she thought, Meatball lapped up all the attention the men were giving him. The tennis ball was momentarily forgotten as he eagerly accepted all the pats and rubs. “I’m heading over, don’t come over, no matter what it looks like, alright?”

The girls chuckled, watching her make her way across the way, whistling for Meatball. The dog immediately came to her side, as she picked up the forgotten tennis ball. The men all looked at her with varying expressions, disbelief to shock to awe. “Morning gents. Welcome to Ratcliff.”

“Morning ma’am.” A couple of the men mumbled back to her. One of the brave ones stepped up with a big grin. “This your dog, ma’am?”

“It is. This is Meatball and I’m Captain Baker. We’re visiting from Thorpes Abbott for a few days.” She introduced herself, holding her hand out for the gentleman. “Averies, ma’am. Meatball seems to be enjoying his time here.”

She laughed. “He has definitely made himself a home. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to leave in a few hours, especially with all the attention the boys have been giving him the last few days.”

“Addie?” She heard her name from the voice that used to make her swoon and make her heart leap. Now that voice just made her blood boil.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Ryan Murphy up close and personal for the first time in two years. He hadn’t changed in those two years, lost a bit of his baby face and gotten a bit more muscular but he looked the same. Nodding at him, her face morphed into a bored expression. “Ryan.”

“What are you doing here?” He stammered, letting his eyes look her up and down. “Thought you got kicked out of the ATAs.”

Throwing the tennis ball towards the girls, Addie watched Meatball tear after it before looking at the man in front of her. “Thanks to you, I did get kicked out of the ATA but not out of the Air Force. I’m stationed at a base north of here. I’m heading back later this afternoon.”

Reaching up, she pushed her hair off her face, his eyes widened when she saw a ring on her finger. She had taken to wearing the fake engagement ring from Bucky as a reminder of his promise to her. “You’re engaged?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes I am.” She smirked, thinking of John and his bright smile. “He’s a pilot with the 100th Bomb Group.”

Ryan awkwardly shifted, giving her a look. A call for the men to assemble left whatever he was going to say, left unsaid. “It was good seeing you Addie. Best of luck.”

“Hey Murph!” She called, the nickname she used to call him slipping out almost as if the two years had never happen. “Can’t say that it was good to see you but good luck up there. You’re still an asshole though, that hasn’t changed in two years..”

His eyes went wide at her words, while the men around him laughed. She knew they would be bugging him to find out what was up between the two, but she found she didn’t really care. Pausing a moment, she gave a quick thought if she wanted to say anything else to him but found she didn’t have any parting words. After two years, the anger she had been carrying around lessened quite a bit and she found she was much lighter just from those few minutes.

Giving him a nod, she walked back to Anna and Lydia with a smirk. Leaning against the jeep, she crossed her arms over her chest, grinning happily. “Everything went well?”

“He thinks I’m engaged, which is better than I could have hoped.” She laughed, watching the men march towards the barracks.

The girls laughed, shaking their heads at their ingenious friend. “The asshole comment was a brilliant touch. Good for you for showing him that you’re happier without him.”

Addie giggled, tilting her head back, soaking up the sunshine before she headed back north to the clouds. With that out of the way, she was looking forward to going home to Thorpe Abbotts.

October 17, 1943, 1600 Hours

He squinted through his one good eye, seeing fencing and buildings up ahead. The men around him began to mumble, trying to figure out where the Germans were taking them. He groaned, thinking about being able to finally get off his feet after the hell of a day they all had.

"Öffne die Tore." He heard the Germans yell just as the massive gates in front of the group opened. Crowds of men rushed to the gates, calling out various names, excited to see their long-lost friends. Bucky instinctively shrunk back on himself trying to protect him as the cacophony of voices echoed around them, especially not knowing if the voices were friendly or not.

Walking ahead, he looked at the sea of faces, hoping he would recognize one or two people, or at the very least to discover that Buck was within these walls.

“Bucky, Bucky! Over here! Over here!” He heard, whipping his head towards the left walls. His single eye widened when he recognized several of his men. Crank, Murphy, Glen, and DeMarco all clamored for him, all of them shouting that he made it.

“Hey! Any of you know if Buck made it?” He called back, chuckling, happiness and hope filling him up for the first time since he bailed from his ship.

Crank yelled back, confused by what he was asking. “What?”

But Bucky paid him no attention as he heard, “John Egan. Your 2 o’clock.”

He whipped his head to the right, hearing the familiar voice. The relief was instant on his face as a wide bright smile crossed his lips. Buck was pushing his way to the fence, a big smile on his face at seeing his best friend walk through the gates. He had made it - they were both safe and sound, for now.

“What the hell took you so long?” Buck called back, Bucky giving him a nod, calling back. “Well, that’s what you get for being sentimental.”

His shoulder sagged at the relief of seeing Buck, relatively safe, sound and alive. He shuffled forward, following the group as they made their way deeper into the camp. Coming to a stop, an American stopped in front of them, introducing himself as Lieutenant Colonel Clark. “Welcome to Stalag Luft III. The Germans will process you then you’ll be assigned huts for living. The others in the huts will show you around the camp.”

Processing took no time at all, John giving his rank, name, and serial number. He was directed to barrack 18 and had rough directions on how to get there. Finding it, he cussed, clutching his ribs as they started to ache from the high of realizing he was relatively safe, at least for the time being.

Nearing the barracks, he staggered up the three stairs, flinging open the door. Taking a deep breath, he saw a door opened down the hallway, hesitant to poke his head in, not knowing who he’d meet.

“BUCKY!” The excited cry came as he peeked around the doorway. A grin made his way onto his face for the first time since the gate, as he let his shoulder sag in relief. Sitting around the table were Crank, Murphy, Glen, and DeMarco, grinning brightly at their friend.

The men eagerly greeted him with back slaps and excitement. Groaning, he took a seat on one of the rickety chairs, sighing as he titled his head back, exhaustion catching up to him. “When Brady showed up a few days ago, we were worried you didn’t make it.”

Nodding at DeMarco, Bucky nodded. “Germans wanted to bait me a bit longer. Was on the run for a bit before getting caught by some locals. Marched through a town where everyone but me was killed, made an escape then the Germans brought me to a processing center. Was there a few days before ending up here in paradise. Who else is here? Saw Buck at the gate.”

“Brady and Solly are in the next compound with Buck. Buck’s entire crew, outside of DeMarco, is over there.” Crank said. “There’s no rhyme or reason on how they’re splitting us up but every few days, more men arrive at that gate.”

Bucky looked around the room. There were three bunks with three beds each and another two bunks with two beds. Though the room was small, there was a table in the middle with chairs and two windows let in sunlight. Tight but at least they would be out of the cold.

“You hurt, Bucky?” Murphy asked quietly, giving the Major a look.

Groaning, Bucky nodded, too tired to put up a fight. “My ribs and eye are the two main issues but other than that, no other issues.”

DeMarco gave Murphy a look before he disappeared out the door. “He is going to go get the med student pilot that’s here. We were told not to trust the German docs so the med student does what he can.”

Bucky nodded, shifting in his chair, hearing a crinkling noise from his jacket. Putting his hand in Jack’s pocket, he felt the envelope that Addie had given him, forgetting all about during the hellish days he had. Pulling it from his pocket, he smiled weakly seeing her loopy handwriting on the front.

Sliding a finger under the lap, he dropped the envelope to the table as he unfolded the letter.

My dear John,

For the first time in a long time, I don’t know what to write to you. How do I tell you everything I want to tell you without rambling on and on? What I will tell you is that I love you, forever and ever. You have my heart John Clarence Egan - until the end of time.

These last few days have been both the best I've ever had and some of the worst. London was an absolute dream and I will think back on our time there fondly and probably with a blush on my cheeks.

Come home to me, John. Do your job, go up drop the bombs on those Nazi Fucks then come home to me. I’ll be eagerly awaiting your return.

I love you, endlessly.

Addie

Smiling sadly, his heart was heavy. He had broken his promise to her, he didn’t come home to her. He wished he could let her know he was safe. He could write a letter but that would take too much time to get to her. Sighing, he ran his hand over his face, calming slightly at her words to him.

His next challenge began - surviving the Stalag and getting home to his girl. Day by day, minute by minute. He just had to keep reminding himself, Addie would be waiting for him to return.

Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! If there's something you'd like to see in an upcoming chapter, please let me know!

Chapter 13

[luminouslywriting]

Do you think that after Robby and Ruth realise their feelings for each other are mutual, there will be a period where they are not officially together but they kinda are? For example, they won't be officially dating, but they won't date or flirt with other people either. They'll still hug, and sometimes people will catch them slow dancing when they're alone. They'll inform each other about their whereabouts and call each other pet names. They will honestly drive everyone around them crazy ( mostly Croz)

How are you doing sweetheart? Are you feeling any better? If you’re taking antibiotics don’t forget to take probiotics as well , It’s very important!!!

Hi sweet Nonny! You are so sweet to check in on me with my health problems! I'm feeling much better today than I was yetsterday. I even walked around a bit today and have been outside. I'm faithfully taking medicine and doing much better!

Now as for your question, I think it's really quite simple....so if you really want to know, spoilers down below:

Right around the time that Robby goes down and ends up in Russia(?)/Germany(?), Ruth realizes that she loves him. He also realizes this when he literally ends up in that ditch. They've been skirting around it and thinking that the other person doesn't care for MONTHS.

So naturally, Ruth isn't about to wait around to find out if either he or Abe is alright. She's just going to go and find them herself. Which means that when he calls Thorpe Abbotts to let them know he's alive, Ruth is already gone for the front lines to take accounts of war crimes for the upcoming trials. That's her excuse to get on the front line and find the love of her life and her brother.

And maybe, just maybe, because the current Colonel said no and no one would give her permission, she just called up her old friend Colonel Sink and asked if she could connect with Easy Company in order to do so. What's Winters and Nixon gonna do? Say NO?? Absolutely not.

So Robby gets back to Thorpe Abbotts only to find out that Ruth has run off with her ex-boyfriend (not entirely understanding that she literally went to the front to FIND HIM and ABE). And he's a little understandably hurt about the situation.

Meanwhile, Ruth DOES find Abe (though I can't tell you where or how). And it's at this point that when the relief mission goes through, Ruth and Rosie get to reunite with one another and it's a MESS of a confession.

So technically, Robby and Ruth don't get to a point where they realize their feelings are mutual until it's a little too late for that. And by the time that they actually DO get together, their elopement isn't that far off haha.

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is here <3

34. Two Swans in A Pond

Upon his return to RAF Thorpe Abbotts, Rosie was first greeted by shock and then by jubilation. The news spread like wildfire, because one moment he was being driven peacefully through the gate and being greeted by whoever was around and the next he was being chased by what seemed like everyone on base.

“There he is! He made it!”

“Welcome back, Major!”

“Major Rosenthal made it!”

The cheers were filled with wonder, with surprised joy that he was here and alive. Rosie’s eyebrows furrowed as he smiled and returned the greetings, wondering whether any of his crew had made it back yet, wondering why none of them had managed to get word back that they’d bailed. Then again, he guessed even if they had the other guys wouldn’t know whether he got out or not; he’d been the last one out.

Rosie smiled as the jeep slowed to a stop. Already, as he was still climbing out, he was shaking hands and receiving pats on the back, greeting people warmly while trying his best to keep his sprained arm out of the way, but his attention was only half on the men welcoming him back. The other half was searching for Freddie.

She wasn’t here. Maybe she was working. But surely someone would have told her that he was back. Surely, someone would have thought to let her know as soon as the news started to spread.

“Rosie!” exclaimed Croz as he pushed through the crowd.

“Croz!” Rosie called back. He readily accepted a hug and a friendly pat on the back, and all of Croz’s exclamations of how happy he was to see Rosie alive and well, before he finally had to cut across him. “Croz, you seen Fred? Where is she?”

Croz faltered. His face fell. He wrestled with words for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he repeatedly started to say something and then stopped. He lifted a hand to his forehead, pushing back a stray lock of hair, but he was saved from having to explain when two female voices, louder than all the rest, cut across him.

It was Millie and Jem, sprinting across the airfield to get to Rosie, shouting his name in a strange mixture of joy and desperation.

“Hey,” Rosie greeted them both as they slowed to a stop at his side.

“You’re alive,” Millie said, clearly out of breath.

“I am,” Rosie confirmed, his smile strained. Had they really all thought he was dead? Hadn’t anyone looked for parachutes?

“You’re alive,” Jem repeated, giving him a gentle but fierce shove. Her words emerged as an accusation, almost.

“Where’s Fred?” Rosie all but demanded. They were all acting strange and as much as he was pleased to see them there was someone he wanted to see more.

“She’s gone home, Rosie,” Millie said harshly. “She had to go home.”

“What do you mean?” His mind was racing. His heart was thumping loudly in his ears.

“We thought you were dead,” Millie snapped. “We were sure of it. None of the other forts saw your ‘chute, they just saw you flying the plane straight while everyone else bailed out and then the plane exploding. So Freddie, she - she thought you were dead because that’s what everyone thought. And she couldn’t handle it. They sent her home.”

Rosie's hands started to tap anxiously, one against his thigh and the other against his shoulder in his sling. “What do you mean, ‘she couldn’t handle it’?” he asked. “Is she okay? Is she coming back?”

Jem’s eyes were hard. “She was throwing up blood, Rosie,” she said coldly, voice void of emotion. “For days. She wouldn’t eat anything. She’d barely drink water. And she stopped speaking. No English, no German, no nothing. We all thought you were dead.”

Millie sighed. “She just… collapsed.” She shrugged, and there was a lifeless quality to both her movement and her voice, like all of this had taken something from her, too. “So they sent her home. Formally on emergency R&R, but secretly no one was expecting her to come back.”

All four of them stood silently in the midst of all this chaos in the wake of that admission. The men still cheering Rosie on, still vying for his attention, must have sensed the change in the air, for they started to hang back, to quiet down, to give them space.

It was Jem who managed to rally into action first. Turning to Rosie, she ordered, “Go to Bennett and ask for leave. He’ll give it to you if you tell him it’s to go and see Fred - he’s the one who approved her R&R so he knows all about it. Croz, go pack some of his stuff up, get money for the train ticket. Rosie, do you know how to get to Oxford?”

“Yes,” Rosie said at once.

“Good. Millie, find a driver to take him to the train station.”

“Okay,” Millie agreed. “What will you do?”

As they all dispersed to go their separate ways, Jem grinned as she called over her shoulder, “What I do best! I’m going to steal food from the mess hall.”

Rosie was on a train to Oxford within the hour. The train to take him into London had arrived just as he’d been going through the gates - he’d made it by the width of a hair. The train from London to Oxford was much the same. One of the railway workers took pity on him, seeing him running to make it with one arm in a sling and the other weighed down by a standard issue military duffle bag, cuts and gashes still healing on his face, and held the door for him. He was still in the dirty, sweaty, ripped up flight suit he’d been wearing when he’d gone down. He must stink, he thought, as he joined a carriage of a married couple and their teenage daughter and sat as close to the door as he could manage. He’d managed to shower once on the trip back to England but there had been no other clothes for him to change into.

As soon as he saw Fred, he resolved, he would take a shower. He prayed Croz had packed him some decent clothes.

In spite of Rosie’s beaten up appearance, the woman in the train carriage smiled at him as he sat down. “On leave?” she asked politely as he pushed his bag under the seat opposite him.

“Kind of,” Rosie answered with a sheepish half-smile. “My plane went down over Germany and my girlfriend thinks I’m dead. I’m going to tell her I’m not.”

The woman’s jaw fell open. “Oh,” she said. She didn’t speak again.

Rosie sat and ate the food Jem had packed for him quietly.

He got a cab from Oxford station to Freddie’s house, and since he didn’t actually know the address he had to direct the driver based on his memories of the few times Freddie’s father had driven them all back and forth. After a few wrong turns and some trial and error, eventually Rosie recognised her street, and then they were pulling up in front of her house.

Rosie tried to tip the driver well for his services but he wouldn’t even accept money for the fare. Rosie’s thanks came pouring out of him as the man hauled his bag out of the trunk and carried it to the doorstep for him.

“Good man,” the driver said as he patted Rosie firmly on the shoulder. “Go get your girl, son.”

Rosie nodded. “I will, sir, thank you.”

The man grinned and then he was back in his car and driving away. And then, before he knew what he’d done, Rosie had knocked on the front door and retreated a step to wait for it to open.

It was Freddie’s father who answered the door. At this time of day it made sense that he wouldn’t be at work. And all he did was stare at Rosie dumbly as he held the door open, uncomprehending of the face that stared back at him.

“Hi,” Rosie said, unsure of what else to say. “I, uh -” he began, and was cut off as Felix enveloped him in a sudden, fierce hug. He was careful of the wounded arm but still held on tight, shaking his head as he muttered about how sure he and Alma had been that Rosie was dead.

“Alma,” Felix called into the house as he took a step back and allowed Rosie to step past him. “Alma, darling!”

Alma came into the living room from the kitchen, a hairbrush in her hand, at the same time as Felix and Rosie entered it from the hall. And she stopped still in her tracks instantly, a hand covering her mouth, the other dropping the hairbrush to the floor with a clatter, as she stared at him.

“Rosie?”

“Hi, Alma,” Rosie greeted softly. “Is Fred here?”

“Oh my goodness,” Alma breathed. She crossed the room in a few quick steps to wrap him up in a hug of her own. “Oh my goodness. We all thought - Wils, especially, she thought, she thinks, that -”

“I know,” Rosie told her as she released him from the hug. “I’m sorry. I was taken in by the Russians. I had no way of getting in touch and none of the other guys saw my parachute and - is Fred here?” He cut his explanations off. There was one real reason he was here and he didn’t see her, wouldn’t rest until he’d seen her.

“Yes,” Alma said. She shook her head. “Yes, she’s out in the garden, but - Rosie!” she called him back as he made to head past her. When he turned back she drew in a deep breath. “Rosie, she’s not well. She’s been… she’s just been really poorly. I hope that seeing you will make it better but she’s had a really nasty shock and I don’t know if it’ll be that easy.”

Rosie nodded. His heart was clenched tight as a fist ready to make contact with a brick wall. “I understand.”

“Be gentle with her,” Alma added. “I know you always are but I mean really gentle. She’s delicate right now. She’s not been herself.”

Again, Rosie nodded. He could hardly bear to stand here a moment longer when Freddie was so close. He’d been fighting to get back to her for two and a half weeks and there was only a room and a couple of doors between them. He’d figure the rest out after. Now, he just needed to see her.

Alma gave Rosie a wary smile and Felix patted his shoulder. That was all the cue Rosie needed to make for the kitchen and the door which led outside, his bag long forgotten on the floor behind him.

The day was cold - even for February. He’d missed Freddie’s birthday, he realised with a start. It was three days ago. His heart started to ache with every beat. He’d had all these plans for how he was going to make it special and instead he’d spent the day being transferred from army unit to army unit on the way back to England.

Freddie was sitting with her back to him at the bottom of the garden. She had a blanket draped around her shoulders which Rosie assumed one of her parents had laid over her upon finding her out here. Her hair was braided down her back.

Earnie and Bruno were at her sides, lying quietly in the grass on either side of her. Meatball, Rosie had learned in passing, was back at Thorpe Abbotts under the care of Millie and Jem.

It was Bruno who noticed him first. He lifted his head, nose to the air, and sniffed before turning his head and locking eyes with Rosie. But there was a reluctance in him to greet Rosie. The German Shepherd looked between Freddie and Rosie repeatedly, weighing his options, before finally laying his head in Freddie’s lap.

Freddie lifted a hand to lay on top of Bruno’s head but didn’t otherwise react, even when her blanket slipped off of her shoulder as a result of her movement. She was wearing Rosie’s A-2 jacket beneath the blanket.

Motionless, Freddie continued sitting there cross-legged, staring at the flowers in their beds in front of her. Red tulips. She loved tulips.

Lifting his sling over his head and tossing it to the grass beside him, Rosie came forward tentatively and crouched just behind where Bruno was laying. “Fred,” he said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to go about this without startling her.

He could only just see her face, her stare blank and fixed on the tulips.

“Fred, honey,” Rosie said again, a little louder.

She screwed her eyes tight shut and shook her head once, one jerky movement and then stillness. Her eyes remained closed but softer, now.

Cautiously, Rosie rested his hand on her back.

She flinched away from it.

“Fred, sweetheart,” Rosie told her softly, “it’s me.”

Again, she shook her head. Her entire face contorted with the strength of her frown. Her bottom lip wobbled. Earnie jumped up and started to lick at her cheek but she picked him up and sat him down in her lap to make him stop.

“Fred -”

She covered both of her ears, shaking her head over and over again. Rosie’s eyes caught on a glint of metal in the sun.

Her fake wedding ring. She was wearing the fake wedding ring he’d given to her when they spent the night in a hotel while they were on leave in London.

All at once, the magnitude of the situation hit Rosie head on, the crash of a wave at a beach which filled his mouth and eyes and nose with salt water before he’d even realised he was standing in the ocean.

Bruno started barking.

“Stop,” Freddie started mumbling, ducking her head forward. “Stop, stop, stop.” Her hands clenched tighter around her ears.

Rosie’s heart was aching as it thrummed in his chest. “Fred, my baby,” he cooed, moving to crouch in front of her instead of at her side. “Freddie, my love.” He reached out to stroke the back of her hair, willing her to look up at him. He could tell now that she thought she was imagining his voice. All he needed her to do was open her eyes.

She lifted her own hand to touch the back of her head where he was holding her and froze when she touched his fingers. Slowly, as though she was having to force them, Freddie’s eyes wrenched themselves open.

He was there, clear as day before her. A little rugged and worse for wear, with cuts on his face and messy hair, but there. But he couldn’t be there. He’d died almost three weeks ago. His plane had caught fire and he’d flown it straight and steady to let his crew bail out safely, had flown it as long as possible so they could parachute into Russian lines instead of German ones. Seven parachutes, a short pause, and then an explosion. That was what all the witnesses had said. She had cornered all of them, demanded each of them give her a detailed description of what had happened. She had made sure to leave no room for error because she’d needed to be sure before she gave up on him.

“Not real,” Freddie snapped at herself, shutting her eyes firmly tight once more. She needed to stop doing this. First it was the phantom music in the living room, the jazz records he used to like to play in the officers’ club. And every time she went downstairs to check she found the living room empty aside from the sleeping dogs. Because why wouldn’t it be empty in the middle of the night? Then it was Rosie’s voice itself. Whispers in her ear, first at night and then all day long, murmurings of love and a future together in New York, a garden filled with flowers and a house with a piano. Then ghost touches, the gentle grazing of fingers that weren’t there across her cheek or through her hair.

And now this. Hallucinations. There was something broken in her. She’d known it the first morning she’d woken up into a world without Rosie in it. It was only getting worse.

“I’m here, Fred,” Rosie assured her, taking a gentle hold of her wrists to pry her hands away from her ears. “My beautiful girl, it’s me. I’m here. It’s me, Fred, I promise.”

Freddie let him take her hands but she was still shaking her head, still squeezing her eyes closed. “No, no, no, no, no. Not again. Not again.”

The only thing which was going to make her believe him, Rosie realised very suddenly, was an explanation. So he launched into one, speaking loudly and clearly but keeping his hands gentle as they cradled hers to his chest. “I got out, Fred. Seconds before the plane exploded. The others must not have seen my ‘chute ‘cause the fort was so close to the ground but I got out, honey. I landed behind Russian lines and they got me home to you.”

Her entire body was shaking when she next wrenched open her eyes, but she had started to hold onto his hands, too. The warmth which usually filled the brown of her eyes when she looked at him had gone wary, suspicious, shining bright in the afternoon sunlight as they filled with tears.

“Don’t let me believe it if it’s not true,” she whispered pleadingly, two tears slipping down her cheeks, one from each eye. “Rosie.” She choked on his name as she spoke it. “Don’t let me believe it if you’re not really here. Please. Don’t do that to me.”

“I’m here, Fred,” Rosie said gently. “I promise, sweetheart. I went back to Thorpe Abbotts but you weren’t there, but Mils and Jem said you got sent home. I got permission from Bennett to go on emergency leave and took a train straight here. Do you -” He was getting choked up himself, now, from seeing her anguish, seeing how adamantly she didn’t believe him. While he’d been drinking vodka from the bottle with the Red Army she’d been fighting hallucinations, wearing the fake wedding ring he’d given her and cocooning herself in his jacket. He hadn’t been able to get word back, no, but he’d somehow assumed someone back at base would know, would tell her, would make sure she knew he was alright.

Rosie cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the ache of tears. “Do you wanna go see your parents? I spoke to them before I came out here. They can show you I’m real.” But then, suddenly, as though he could understand the route the conversation had taken, Earnie jumped into Rosie’s lap and started to paw at his chest until Rosie picked him up. 

The light of recognition, of understanding, filled Freddie’s eyes as she watched Earnie start to lick Rosie’s neck.

“Rosie?” she asked. Her voice emerged as little more than a squeak. She reached out a hand and passed it gently, tentatively, through his hair, wrenching it back as soon as she was finished and cradling it to her chest.

Rosie nodded, smiling encouragingly at her. “I’m here, Fred. It’s me, I promise.”

She shook her head, her chest heaving with deep, shaky breaths. “I don’t understand.” Again she reached to touch him, cupping his cheek this time and swiping her thumb over the skin beneath his eye.

“I bailed at the last minute,” Rosie explained again, softer this time, more certain that she was listening. “And the Russians picked me up. And I’m here on leave because Mils and Jem said you got sent home and all I wanted was you.”

“You’re real?” Freddie asked him quietly, moving her hand to his chest, placing it right over his heart. He watched, enamoured, as her eyes met his upon feeling its beating. 

He smiled, placing Earnie back on the floor and then laying one of his hands on top of hers, holding them both there. “I’m real, sweetheart, I promise.”

She started crying then. Big, relentless tears came spilling down her cheeks as her face crumpled and her shoulders shook. Rosie sat back in the grass and scooped her up into his lap, tucking her head beneath his chin in that place he knew she felt safe. When her blanket slipped off her shoulders he laid it gently back on, tucking it around her to keep her warm, and began to rock her slowly back and forth. He rubbed a hand up and down her back, pressing kiss after kiss into the top of her head.

“I thought -” she started choking. “I thought -”

“I know,” Rosie assured her. “I’m sorry. But I did everything I could to come back to you.”

“You’re here,” she sobbed.

“I’m here,” he confirmed. “Not going anywhere, Fred, I’m staying right here with you.”

“Do you promise you’re real?”

“I promise.”

The sob she let out in response was loud and gut-wrenching. “Rosie, I love you so bad,” she said, clutching at him everywhere she could get her hands on.

“I love you, Fred,” Rosie answered her, holding on tight and kissing her hair over and over again. “I love you so bad. So bad.”

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won’t, sweetheart, I promise. That was the longest we’re ever gonna be apart.”

“I don’t ever want to be parted from you again.”

“You won’t be, honey,” Rosie soothed her. “I’m staying glued to your side for the rest of our lives.”

“Promise,” Freddie demanded.

He smiled into the top of her head. “I promise.”

She carried on sobbing for a while. A few tears slipped out of Rosie’s eyes, too. And, eventually, the dogs went inside, the air getting colder as afternoon pushed into evening. But still they stayed where they were, clutching at each other, whispering sweet nothings through the growing darkness.

After a long while, Alma appeared in the doorway to the house, one hand covering her heart and her head tilted to the side as she met Rosie’s eyes across the space between them.

Rosie smiled and nodded, a silent confirmation passing between them, before Alma stepped out into the yard and approached the patch of grass Rosie and Freddie were sitting tangled together on.

“Wils,” Alma started softly as she kneeled before the two of them, “do you think you might be ready to come inside, sweetness? It’s getting cold out here.”

Freddie clutched at Rosie tighter, buried her face deeper into his neck.

Rosie pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere, honey,” he reassured her quietly. “When you’re ready to go inside I’m coming with you.”

“Don’t let go of me,” Freddie implored quietly, her voice muffled into the skin of his neck.

“I won’t, Fred,” Rosie promised her. “You want me to carry you inside?”

She nodded and so, with help from Alma to steady him, Rosie used all the strength he had left in his body after weeks of travelling across war torn Europe to push himself to his feet, adjusting Freddie in his arms once he was standing to make sure she was secure and comfortable.

Alma retrieved his sling from the grass as she led them inside. And she squeezed Rosie’s shoulder as he entered the kitchen, closing the back door behind them.

That night, for the first time ever, Felix and Alma let Freddie and Rosie sleep in the same bed. After everything, the suffering and the pain, the wailing and the vomiting and the heaving, gasping tears, it seemed cruel to force them apart. So Freddie and Rosie got ready for bed and climbed into Freddie’s bed together, snuggling in close, two swans in a pond making sure they wouldn’t be separated during the night.

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is here <3

38. Make Us Fly

It was with great reluctance that Freddie’s parents allowed her to return to Thorpe Abbotts. Her phone privileges revoked, Freddie had taken to spending her days moping, writing letters to Rosie that she wasn’t sure she’d ever let him read, and staring out the window in her bedroom as though she was expecting him to appear spontaneously in the street below.

She was only allowed to return at all because Felix had suggested that having a job to do during the day would be good for her, would give her something to focus her attention on other than the doom she was certain she would find out any day now had found Rosie and killed him for good. She couldn’t sit writing love letters or gazing out of windows, couldn’t pace restlessly before bed or tap anxious fingers on the telephone receiver, if she was back to working long days in a high-stress job, her father had reasoned.

Just as he had promised, Rosie was there at the gate waiting for Freddie with Meatball on a lead, Millie and Jem on either side of him, and Croz just a little bit behind. And Freddie grinned wide when she saw him, bouncing in her seat where she was still being driven in, her fingers tapping and her legs shifting as her whole body filled with adrenaline. If the driver didn’t stop the jeep soon she thought she might just leap out of it while it was still moving.

“Fred!” Millie and Jem were calling, beaming and jumping up and down and waving to her. Meatball was pulling on his lead, barking and howling and trying to break free of Rosie to get to her.

Freddie’s answering laugh was filled with pure joy, loud and girlish and youthful. “Hi!” she cheered back to them.

The instant the jeep had stopped, Freddie was disembarking and her arrival committee was approaching, all of them grinning and laughing and excited.

Everyone stood back to let Rosie hug her first, Jem tactfully taking Meatball’s lead off of him to free up his hands. And after a tight, giggly hug and one long, firm kiss Freddie was all but wrenched out of Rosie’s arms and swept up into Millie’s, the two of them swaying from side to side on their feet in their happiness.

“I can’t believe you got married and I missed it!” Millie cried in fake outrage, stepping back to let Jem hug her but holding onto her left hand so she could look at the rings. “Our Fred, a married woman - outrageous!”

Freddie accepted a hug from Croz and his congratulations, sharing a laughing grin with him, before finally she crouched to the ground and Jem let go of Meatball’s lead so he could launch himself at her.

“My little boy!” Freddie exclaimed, wrapping him up in a hug, squirming away from the kisses he tried to cover her face in. “I know!” she cried when he started howling again. “I missed you too!”

“I’ve got no idea how you do it, Fred,” Jem said as she watched them with a smile. “He is a handful and a half.”

“He’s an angel,” Freddie disagreed with a giggle. “Always behaves for his mummy, don’t you, little one?”

“That make you his daddy now, Rosie?” Croz asked, his smirk audible in his voice.

“His step-daddy,” Millie corrected, smiling to herself. “And I wouldn’t expect Meatball to go changing his last name quite as readily as Fred did. Mr DeMarco over here still has another daddy missing him.”

“Any news on Benny and the others?” Freddie asked, rising to her full height and tucking herself into Rosie’s side, one hand permanently attached to Meatball’s head.

Millie shrugged. “Same old, same old. I sent over another letter yesterday informing John that you and Rosie are now married so I imagine the news will spread fast.”

“Did I miss anything else here?” Freddie wondered next.

Millie quirked a brow. “You phoned every day, Fred.”

Freddie scowled. “You sound like my mother.”

Rosie laughed and pressed a kiss to her head.

“Well, actually,” Croz began tentatively, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “you did miss something.”

All eyes shot to him. Rosie was grinning, obviously already aware of the news.

“Jean’s pregnant,” Croz announced with a sheepish grin. “I’m gonna be a father.”

“Oh my god!” Millie exclaimed.

“Croz!” Freddie added. “Congratulations!”

“Are you happy?” Jem asked, reaching to give both of his arms a squeeze.

Croz nodded, and his smile turned relieved, like he was glad he’d finally decided he was happy about it. “I’m - yeah. Hell, I’m so excited. Can’t wait to meet my little boy or girl.”

“That’s so exciting,” Freddie said softly. “Croz, I’m so happy for you.”

“Wait,” Jem said suddenly, “how is the baby yours?”

Croz choked on his next breath. “What do you mean, how is it mine?”

“How did you conceive a child while you’re in England and your wife is in America?”

Beside Freddie, Rosie was chuckling to himself, smoothing out his moustache with his free hand to try to hide it.

Croz sputtered a scoff. “What - Jem, I went back home before Christmas. You didn’t - you didn’t notice I was gone?”

“No,” Jem said, her eyebrows furrowed. “What? You went back to America?”

“Yes!”

Freddie turned her head into Rosie’s side to muffle her giggles.

“Whoops,” Jem offered.

“That is unbelievable,” Croz said, shaking his head. To Rosie, he said, “She didn’t even notice I was gone!”

Rosie just shrugged at him, still concealing his grin behind his hand.

Rosie carried Freddie’s bag for her as they all trekked across base to Freddie’s hut, and Jem and Millie helped her to replace her things in her footlocker. Rosie and Croz accompanied her back to the air exec office, where she was directly encouraged into a meeting with Colonel Bennett about everything which had happened in Operation Corona while she’d been gone. She filled out all of the necessary paperwork which accompanied extended, emergency leave and then was on her way to her office.

Rosie had tidied it for her, she could tell. She’d expected dust, the files she’d left out before going to wait for Rosie outside interrogation the day he’d gone down still scattered across her desk, an overflowing bin and cupboard doors hanging open. Instead, it was pristine. Meatball took up his place on the leather couch in the corner directly, as though nothing had ever happened, as though no time had passed.

March turned to April and Freddie grew out of her adopted habit of sticking to Rosie like glue. He was only down the hall from her now during the day, condemned to push paper for all eternity, and she no longer had to worry about the past repeating itself.

Like a normal couple, they adopted a routine of sharing a kiss before heading to their separate offices and another at the end of each working day. They ate breakfast and lunch with their friends but dinner together, spent their evenings in the officers’ club dancing and whispering and taking any and every opportunity to hold their hands up side by side to admire their wedding rings.

Most evenings, Rosie even stopped by Freddie’s hut to pick her up and walk her over to the club, like they were going on a real date.

“Wing Officer Rosenthal? Ma’am, your husband’s here to see you,” Jana, one of the Operation Corona wireless operators who shared Freddie’s hut, called.

Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed as she finished applying her mascara in the bathroom of her hut. “He is?” she called back. “He’s early.”

“He says he wants to talk to you about something,” Jana replied.

Freddie’s heart gave a start, skipping over its next beat. “Okay,” she called back unsteadily, screwing the lid back on her mascara and returning it to her makeup bag. To Anneliese beside her, she warned, “Don’t take my lipstick again.”

“I won’t,” Anneliese replied with an innocent smile.

Freddie pointed a finger at her. “I’ll take away your weekend pass.”

Anneliese dropped the act and huffed. “Fine. I won’t use it.”

“Good.” With that, Freddie stepped past her and made her way to the door of the hut, making a short detour to pick up her shoes as she went.

She was expecting bad news and Rosie could tell. She’d braced herself, with hunched shoulders and a steely expression. “You’re re-upping?” she asked the moment she stepped outside.

Rosie smiled sadly and held out his hand to help her balance as she stepped into her shoes. “I wanted to run something by you.”

“You’re re-upping,” Freddie said again, not a question this time.

Rosie sighed. “There’s a big food shortage in The Netherlands. People are starving to death. So the Allies have started up an aid initiative to drop tons of food west and southwest of the Zuiderzee. They’re trying to organise a flak truce with the Germans, so no flak or AA guns.”

Freddie’s heart lifted. “Have they agreed? The Germans?”

Rosie’s expression turned sheepish. “Well, not yet. But everyone’s hopeful.”

Freddie sighed. She let her head tip forward until her forehead was resting on his chest. “It was flak which took you down the last time,” she reminded him softly.

Rosie’s hands came up to rest on the centre of her back. “I don’t think they’ll fire on us. Not when they know we’re dropping food instead of bombs.”

“I don’t trust the Germans,” Freddie argued. “You can’t expect the likes of them to suddenly start engaging in gentlemanly warfare when the entire war they’ve been nothing short of bastards.”

Rosie let out a long, slow breath. “Just think about it,” he said at length. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

Freddie shut her eyes and let herself revel in the quiet; the sound of crickets somewhere in the grass and the breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees, the muffled voices coming from inside her hut and Rosie’s gentle breathing.

Finally, Freddie lifted her head and offered Rosie a small, unsteady smile. “I’ll think about it,” she conceded. “Thank you for asking me first.”

Rosie smiled back at her before pressing his lips to her forehead. When he spoke, he spoke into her skin. “Of course. We’re a team.”

“A team,” Freddie echoed thoughtfully. “The Rosenthals.”

“Yeah,” Rosie agreed, grinning. He leaned back so he could look into her face. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world to get to call you my wife, Mrs Rosenthal.”

Freddie laughed. “And I’m the luckiest woman in the world to get to call you my husband, Mr Rosenthal. I’d marry you every day of the week if I could.”

“I’d marry you twice a day.”

“I’d spend my life marrying you.”

Rosie grinned, ducking his head and speaking conspiratorially, as though hatching a master plan, “Let’s get married again right now.”

Freddie laughed, reaching up to kiss his lips. “I love you so bad,” she told him seriously. He echoed the sentiment back and her smile remained, but after a moment it faded just slightly. “I don’t want to hold you back, you know that, don’t you? I want you to do everything you want to do. It’s just -” She faltered. “The thought of losing you again, it -”

“I know,” Rosie assured her, scooping her back up into his arms. “I understand, honey. You got time to think about it.”

“Okay,” Freddie agreed. 

Rosie waited outside while Freddie headed back into her hut to put on her lipstick and put Meatball’s collar and lead on him. When next she stepped outside, Meatball beside her, Rosie scruffed Meatball’s head affectionately and took the water bowl from Freddie’s other hand. Her left hand now free, he took hold of it, kissing the two rings on her ring finger before leading her and Meatball to the club.

Freddie thought a lot about the prospect of Rosie re-upping over the next few days. Even with the potential flak truce the idea covered her in sweat, made her hands shake and her heart thump audibly in her ears. But she knew how much Rosie wanted to start flying these humanitarian missions and she never wanted to be the person holding him back. 

She lay awake tossing and turning many nights in a row before her decision came to her suddenly, with no small amount of anxiety bubbling in her stomach. And yet she was sure it was the right one.

Freddie had her arms hugged tightly around herself, her uniform jacket doing little to keep out the cold when she had only her flimsy, lacy nightdress underneath and no socks on her feet inside her shoes. She had knocked twice already on the door to Rosie’s hut and if someone didn’t answer her this time she was resolved to just barge in.

“Rosie!” she called as she knocked one final time, louder than she might have liked. But she heard rustling behind the door, and a muffled curse as Rosie almost certainly stubbed his toe on his bed frame or footlocker. 

Freddie grinned to herself, turning back momentarily to scan the rows and rows of huts around her in the early morning light. There was a faint mist on the ground making everything look eerie, and the chill on the air certainly made it feel that way. If someone came out here, Freddie thought, it would be so easy for them to sneak up on her. And they would be well within their rights to, as well, since she would have been the one to wake them up.

“Fred?” Rosie asked groggily as he appeared in his boxers and undershirt from around the side of the door. He was squinting into the light of early morning, shivering slightly at the cold, with one hand raised to his brow to help shield his eyes from the sudden brightness and the other clasped around the door. He opened it wider when he saw her but changed his mind when he was hit with a fresh burst of cold.

“Rosie, my love,” Freddie greeted softly. “Sorry to wake you, Bärchen, but I’ve decided I will allow you to fly those humanitarian aid missions under one condition.”

Rosie perked up, standing up straighter behind the door, the hand on his brow falling to his side. “Really?” he asked, then shook his head, as though afraid to push his luck. “What’s the condition?”

“I want to come with you on the first one.”

Rosie guffawed. “What?! Fred, no!”

Freddie raised her eyebrows at him. “No?” It wasn’t a word he told her often.

Rosie opened his mouth to speak, undoubtedly to reassert his disapproval, then promptly understood her line of thought and clamped it shut once more.

“If you don’t want me to come that must be because you think it’s unsafe,” Freddie deduced. “And if it’s unsafe then you shouldn’t be going.”

“It ain’t unsafe,” Rosie dismissed immediately. “Some of the guys’ve already gone out and they didn’t have any problems, flak truce or not.”

Freddie hummed her acceptance of this. “Then you should have no problems bringing me along with you,” she chirped. “I promise to sit very quietly in the back and keep out of everyone’s way. I only want to look out the window. I’ve never flown in a plane before, remember?”

Rosie looked conflicted. It filled Freddie with a sense of triumph. If he wanted to re-up, and she knew for a fact he did, then he would be taking her with him, and she would get to see for herself what she was sending him into. And she’d be getting to fly in a plane at the same time - fly in a plane her husband was piloting, no less. A win-win scenario for everyone, she thought.

“Ugh, fine,” Rosie eventually relented, as Freddie had known he would. “Fine, yeah, you can come.”

“You don’t have to sound so excited about it,” Freddie teased even as she was grinning.

“I ain’t happy about it, Fred,” Rosie informed her with a grimace.

“Then don’t re-up,” Freddie replied easily. “Simple.”

Operations were so pleased with the news that Rosie was willing to fly one of their so-called ‘mercy missions’ that they organised for him to go out later that same day. So Freddie dropped Meatball off to stay with Millie and Jem and then followed Rosie to the equipment room, where he got her dressed into a flight suit and decked her out in everything she’d need to stay warm while they were up there and stay safe in case anything went wrong.

“How do I look?” Freddie asked Rosie as he finished zipping up her borrowed sheepskin jacket. She knew she must have looked utterly ridiculous - even the smallest clothes they’d been able to find were hanging off of her, in spite of her height - but Rosie couldn’t hide his wide smile.

“Like a princess,” he told her, catching her around the waist and pecking her on the lips.

Rosie got Freddie situated in the plane. He put her in a corner and told her in no uncertain terms not to move, made sure she was secure but still had a view out the window, then put on her headset for her so she could listen to him talk over the radio. He departed only after checking one final time that she was absolutely sure she wanted to come and, assured she was, left her with a lingering kiss on her forehead.

Freddie exchanged a giddy smile with one of the bombardiers who would be dropping the food over The Netherlands when they arrived; she didn’t know him by name, since he’d been borrowed from another crew after Rosie’s old bombardier hadn’t made it out alive from the mission over Berlin, but he seemed just as excited as she was to be in a plane piloted by the legendary Major Rosenthal.

It was so strange to be on this side of takeoff. Back when she’d been a normal wireless operator, Freddie had talked the pilots through so many of these and they’d always felt like they lasted a while, but they’d never lasted as long as the one she spent inside the plane. When it had rumbled to life beneath her, the engine roaring in her ears, her heart had dropped in nervousness just as much as it had leaped in excitement. That was five minutes ago now.

But, eventually, Rosie confirmed to the tower over the radio that he was turning onto the runway and preparing for wheels up. Before Freddie knew it, the plane was accelerating forward, the walls shaking violently, and then lurching up into the sky, all wheels off the ground. They were flying.

Freddie had never felt anything like it.

Her eyes were stuck staring out the window the entire time, mesmerised. The world looked so different from up so high. Seemingly endless fields from the ground became squares of old patchwork quilts, trees became little more than marks of punctuation in a book. Houses became toy-sized and then disappeared altogether. The clouds, she found, really were just gas, not the fluffy, bouncy marshmallows she’d imagined as a child.

The English Channel was endless, boundless, a magnificent stretch of blue beneath her. Freddie could hear Rosie’s smile when he asked her over the radio, “What do you think of the view, Fred?”

Freddie could barely muster a reply, too awestruck by all that flying was. Two pilot boyfriends and neither of them had told her it was like this.

The crew launched into action as they neared their drop zone. No one said anything but Freddie felt the change in the air as they flew over anti-aircraft guns. She pretended she hadn’t seen them to placate everyone else, but nevertheless they didn’t fire; formal truce or otherwise, the Germans were letting them have this.

To drop food instead of bombs - it was a magical concept. Freddie watched with a wide smile as Dutch civilians ran out to retrieve the packages they dropped, waving at the plane overhead all the while. And then, before she knew it, they were heading back to England.

Freddie didn’t want it to end.

When Rosie landed them safely back at Thorpe Abbotts, Freddie’s hands were shaking. She was filled with adrenaline, her smile immovable even as it ached in her cheeks, and when she found Rosie waiting for her beneath the hatch to help her down she all but launched herself into his arms and squealed with delight.

“As if you can do that!” she exclaimed as he spun her around in a circle before setting her gently down. “As if you can just - just - make us fly!”

“Did you like it?” Rosie asked, grinning as he pulled away just enough to look at her face.

Freddie could feel how crazed her smile must have looked. “I want to do it again! Will you take me again?”

Rosie said he’d see about it and, for now, Freddie was content to leave it at that. So she gave him a kiss goodbye as he and the crew headed off for a quick, perfunctory interrogation. In turn, she returned to the changing room to get out of her borrowed flight suit and return it to its rightful owner.