#everett blakely x oc

[softspeirs]

Steer Clear

A/N: Here we are, kids. This OC came to me out of nowhere. I had no plans to write anything for Ev Blakely, but once I started thinking about it, I couldn't stop. Meet Marie.

It was an innocuous request, in his mind. Hey, Fernandez. Run these messages to the Colonel on your way?

She had frozen in place, halfway down the tower steps at his words, and he recognized the look on her face. He's seen it a thousand times since he met her over a year ago.

"I'm pressed for time, Captain." She says. "I have to run these figures to the plotters--"

"You're on your way there anyway." He insists. He holds out a stack of messages. Weather reports, updated communications from nearby bases, messages about incoming ferries happening later that day.

She turns her back on him.

Heads right down the stairs like he hadn't even spoken, and leaves him standing there.

"For fuck's sake," he whispers to himself, and then he's taking off, hot on her heels.

She's like a wraith the way he catches only glimpses of her disappearing around corners, until finally she's in Ops, handing a message to Red at the maps before turning to pass on other messages, her steps quick and efficient.

The room is relatively quiet and he's sure he's not imagining the way people take one look at the two of them and pretty much clear out. They don't want to be stuck inside with them when the arguing inevitably starts.

He sighs. "Fernandez-- can you just wait a minute?"

"Not really, no."

The thing about an impending promotion is that he's starting to understand why Jack hates being Air Exec. He hates being stuck inside, or in the tower, or elsewhere on the base while others are doing the flying. He understands his role. He'll do it and he'll do a damned good job of it, but that doesn't mean he likes it.

Especially because it means he's in close contact with the Ops staff, who are all, except for Marie Fernandez, willing to work with him.

"Do we have a problem?" He blurts, because he already knows they do. The first day he met her she looked at him with.... nothing. She wasn't rude or anything, but he felt like he could have been any other suit standing in front of her, and it hit him in the gut like he didn't expect. "I'm not giving you orders, I just asked if you'd do me a favor." He's aware his tone is hardening. He's trying not to let it happen, but she's just staring at him in that way she does.

"I don't work for you," she points out, tone perfectly neutral, but something about it just grates. He opens his mouth to respond, but she beats him to it. "I work for the Colonel, and he's the one who gives me orders."

His hands go to his hips and he looks down at the ground, clenching his jaw as he fights his temper. "We're working together, Fernandez. All of us." He leans in, "Unless you forgot."

Her eyes narrow. "Because I couldn't possibly feel the same patriotism that you do, could I?" She pretends to think, finger tapping he chin. "I forgot that the only way to fight from the air is in the seat. Us pencil pushers don't count." Her eyes are blazing, a few tendrils of her dark hair escaping from their pins after hours and hours of work.

"You weren't supposed to hear that." He mutters. Not a good excuse, but he can't help but bite back at her. She gets under his skin - he needs to have the last word. It's a matter of pride, is what he tells himself.

"Then don't gossip where everyone can hear you, Captain." She raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Now. Is there something I can help you with? Because if not, then we're busy."

He takes a deep breath, tries to lower his voice. "I'm just asking if you would be willing to take messages when you're on your way anyway--"

"-- And I told you I don't have time. I know you think I don't do anything but sit around and twirl my hair all day--"

"That's not what I think."

"Can I--" Harry Crosby's head appears around the doorframe of his office.

"Not now, Croz--"

"Shut up Harry--"

They both snap at him in unison, and he holds his hands up in surrender and backs into his office. He's been the third wheel of too many arguments between Fernandez and Blakely over the last few months, and he has no desire to get in the middle of another one, even though he's desperate for a few minutes of quiet.

The sudden quiet between them is tense and for a moment -- he doesn't even think she's aware she does it - the wall around Marie Fernandez comes down. Her face is open, vulnerable. She looks exhausted, just like the rest of them.

She takes a deep breath, settles her shoulders, and squares to face him again, and he's suddenly breathless. She is unbearably lovely. Especially when she's yelling at him. And his heart is pounding, and she's saying something but he can't hear her and--

"Well?" She snaps.

"I-- what?"

"I said, the next time you need something from Ops, send one of the other girls. There's no need for us to keep disturbing everyone else." Her voice is quieter than it was a few minutes ago and he hates it. The fight's gone out of her eyes too, and for a crazed half-second, he wants to reach for her.

To do what, he has no idea, but suddenly he feels out of control, like he has no idea how to speak or move or--

She brushes past him. The door slams behind her as she goes back to her office, just outside the Colonel's.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as the quiet of the room settles over him. He knows this has to get sorted. They can't keep fighting like this, not with the invasion so close on the horizon, not when the communication between Ops and the tower is so important.

They need to trust each other, and he needs to keep his big mouth shut and stop taking his frustrations out on her.

He knows all this, but there's a part of him that's itching for a fight, and she's always willing to give it. Perhaps it's the masochistic part of him that came back from Bremen, knowing everything had gone to shit and convinced that it always would.

Harry comes out of his office again, hands in his pockets.

"Don't say it--"

"You can't keep doing that." He says, serious.

"She started it--"

"She's just doing her job, doing what she's supposed to do."

"I asked for a favor! That's all! Goddamn, you'd think I'm asking for her to get in the goddamn seat and drop a bomb on Hitler's house."

Crosby frowns. "Look, I just-- you let her get to you, and I don't know why, but you're driving everyone crazy. We're all tired but this is too important."

He opens his mouth to argue that Harry Crosby of all people shouldn't be lecturing him about being tired, but he bites his tongue. The door behind him opens again, and he looks over his shoulder, expecting her to storm back in and demand he apologize to her, but it's Douglass.

"Fightin' with Marie again?" He asks, casually, leaning against the wall as he bites down on an apple.

"Jesus Christ." Ev mutters.

"I'm just asking because the two of you really know how to clear a room."

"I'm going to go now. Don't you two have anything better to do?"

"Besides bother you? Not really."

"Thanks, Dougie."

Douglass follows him out the door, calling after him, "Just let us know when you're finally going to do something about it so we can steer clear, alright?"

Blakely flips him the finger over his shoulder and walks back to the tower, his gut roiling for reasons he doesn't want to examine. No, he'll steer clear of her from now on. It's best for everyone.

[blakelysco-pilot]

Every Time We Say Goodbye

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Seven Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Valencia is about to learn first-hand that not everything is as it seems. Especially when the horrors of the war threaten to take from her for the first time. Who will be there to pick her up and carry her through, and will friendship alone be enough; especially when her best friend is harboring the secret of a lifetime.

Part Six Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist

Val moved through the house with a smile, dropping her bags by the door and leaving her purse and gloves on the credenza. She could hear a voice coming from the living room, softly speaking without waiting for a reply. Turning the corner, she found Everett holding a small baby, his eyes bright as he kept talking, the baby looking up at him in wonder at each word. Pausing by the door, she stood and watched, her smile never fading. 

“Mommy’s going to be home soon, and then, we can tell her all about what we did today… did you miss her while she was out to lunch with the girls? I did too, but I bet she had a great time with your Aunties. We need to make sure we remind her how much we love her, okay? Did you know mommy served in the war? Prettiest girl in East Anglia, but your Uncle Dougie might fight me on that and say it’s your Aunt Olive… Mommy made the best coffee, and she looked so pretty doing it too. Except for when your Uncle Curt would annoy her… he was really great. Did you know, he introduced me to mommy? Sometimes mommy gets sad because she misses him, so we need to remind her of the good stuff…”

No, that couldn’t be right… Curt couldn’t be gone. He wouldn’t just give up that easy; no one had more gusto during the war than he did! Then who had walked her down the aisle? Who…who’s life was she looking at? Surely not her own! Her life included her best friend, no matter how much he annoyed her, he was supposed to be there. 

“No…” she whispered, the word muffled as the house around her filled with a rusting noise as she turned and ran back towards the front door, desperate to get out of this life that didn’t belong to her. “No!”

Her eyes flew open, the rustling sound continuing around her as she took in the sight of the Red Cross hut. The side table with the photos of her and her friends, her rosary sitting next to the photo of her and Everett where she had placed it before bed. Helen sleeping in her bed to her left, wrapped up like a caterpillar waiting to emerge as a butterfly, and Olive sitting up in the bed to her right flipping through the pages of a book. So that was what she had heard. Exhaling deeply, she stretched beneath her blankets, arms coming up to test the temperature in the hut. 

“Morning Chickie,” she turned to face Olive, the Brit offering her a smile in return. “Up already?”

“You know me…” Olive smiled, closing her book and placing it on her side table. 

Sitting up, she swung her legs from under the covers and stood, making her way to the washroom to start her morning routine. As she passed Helen, or what she assumed was Helen beneath the blankets, she gave her a shake to rouse her as well, so that the three of them could start their day. 

“Nooo…” the Helen shaped blankets whined, burrowing deeper into the pillows. “Not yet… I was just about to have my big kiss with Jimmy Stewart!”

“You can kiss Jimmy Stewart at bedtime!” Val hollered from the sink, her voice muffled as she washed her face. “Right now, Herbert Nash is waiting for you to serve him coffee and wish him good morning!”

“Oh,” Helen giggled, untangling herself from the blankets. She was wrapped so tightly, Olive had to come and give her a hand. “Uh, Olive, can you uh…”

“Jeez, Helen, how tight tight did you wrap up last night Chicken, it wasn’t that cold!”

“No, but it’s so cozy. Like being held and soothed to sleep.”

“Oh, I see, you were dreaming of your sweet flyboy.”

“Olive!”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged with a grin, watching as Helen joined Val in the washroom. “I bet it was a real nice dream too, especially when Jimmy Stewart swooped in.”

“That’s what happens when you read magazines before bed,” Val laughed, coming back into the main hut to get dressed. “Romanced by Nash and a Hollywood star.”

“And who were you dreaming of, hmm?” Helen begged the question, peeking around the wall of the washroom, toothbrush in hand. Val glanced over her shoulder as she pulled on her blouse before replying. 

“Who do you think,” Val teased, not ready to give up the dream turned nightmare that seemed more like a bad omen than anything else. “Cary Grant.” 

“Oooh!” Both girls teased her, their laughter filling the hut as they continued to get ready for their day, and for a moment, she forgot about the dream, and what it might have meant. 

They carried on with the start of their day, dressing and quickly pulling the blankets up on the beds so that the hut wasn’t messy. Once Val was in front of the mirror, digging through her cosmetics bag, the door swung open to reveal Tattie, a small box in hand and a smile on her face. 

“Morning girls!” She greeted them, setting the box down on the nearest side table, digging into it with one hand. 

“Morning chickie,” Val turned, zipping the jacket of her jumpsuit halfway. “Presents?”

“New uniform requirements,” Tattie shrugged. “Don’t ask me why but, we’ve got dog tags now.”

“Dog tags?”

“Yes, so don’t lose them please.” 

Handing Val her chain, the brunette inspected the two tags hanging from the thin metal chain, the second tag hanging from a smaller chain, lower than the first.  

“Perfect! One for me and one for Ev!” She beamed, pulling it over her head with care not to disrupt her hair, before tucking it into her blouse. 

“Oh! Olive,” Tattie called to her, Olive turning on the spot as Tattie tossed her a set of tags. “It’s official. We’re keeping you.”

“Like you had much of a choice, Spaatz.” Olive grinned, looking over her tags with awe before following Val’s lead and putting them on. 

“Something like that.” Tattie winked, handing Helen her tags as well.

“Helps to have a dad in high places doesn’t it?” Val teased, grabbing her cigarettes and old lighter with one hand, and her rosary with her other. Once all three items were secured inside her pockets, she linked arms with Olive and gestured to the door. 

“Shall we?”

“Come on Chicken,” Olive beamed. “I suspect there’s two men hankering for a coffee and a good morning kiss out there.”

“Helen? Are you coming or waiting for Jimmy Stewart?” Val teased, reaching her arm back to gesture to her friend. 

“Oh you’re so funny,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing Val’s hand and heading out the door with both her and Olive, Tattie right on their heels. “You’ll never let me live it down, will you!”

“We will, don’t worry.” Val chuckled. 

“After you’ve had a proper song with Herbert Nash.” Olive grinned wickedly, wiggling her eyebrows as she looked at Helen. 

“And who says I haven’t!”

“Helen!”

“What? He’s very charming!”

Pulling open the door, the four girls are met with the thickest smog to ever grace East Anglia, at least, that’s what it felt like. 

“They can’t fly in this!” Val crowed, turning to Tattie with a worried look in her eye, as if hoping the woman had an answer. “Chicky’s got to ground them, right?”

“I don’t know, Valencia,” Tattie gave her hand a squeeze in solidarity, letting her know she shared the same worry. “For now, let’s just do what they need us to, hmm?”

“Okay… come on then. Coffee’s not going to brew itself.”

“I made the first batch of sinkers on the early shift.”

“You love the early shift, don’t ya Tat.” Olive teased from Val’s other side. 

“It’s not so bad.” she grinned, and Val could see a hint of something simmering beneath the surface; but that was something for another time. 

Approaching the Clubmobile, Val could just make out four figures leaning against the side. As they got closer she could see that it was Jack Kidd, Dougie, Herbert Nash and Everett. The boys were smoking and chatting amongst themselves, the three veteran flyboys appeared to be giving Nash the lowdown on how mornings usually unfolded on base. 

“Excuse me fellas.” Everett tossed his cigarette down before pushing off the truck and making his way to Val. 

Quickly untangling her arm from Olive’s and breaking away from the other three girls, Valencia met Everett halfway, falling into him with ease as he pressed his lips to hers in greeting. They kept it clean, aware of their friends being so near to them, before pulling away slowly. 

“Good morning…” 

“Hmm, good morning,” Val grinned, her thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth. “You got a little something…”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, and we don’t need Chicky seeing you with lipstick all over your face.”

“No,” he laughed, giving her thumb a quick kiss before she pulled back. “I don’t need a chewing out this early in the day.”

“If he can even find you in this soup.” She frowned, taking his hands, her grip trying not to come across as desperate, regardless of how she felt. 

“Red’s got eyes in his ass, they’ll find us.”

His fingers brushed back a few strands of her hair that had fallen victim to the early morning breeze, his thumb grazing her temple. His big, hazel eyes went wide for a moment, looking over her shoulder to find his friends all in similar positions. He clocked Dougie and Olive, his bombardier had his better half pressed up against the side of the truck as he kissed her good morning, while Helen was giggling at something Nash had said, the fresh pilot looking a little too rigid with the higher ranking officers around him. And Tattie and Jack were, well he wasn’t sure, but they were talking softly and he had some strange look in his eye that Ev couldn’t quite place. 

“So, what’s brought this on hmm?”

“Ran into Nash last night walking back from your hut. He had caught up with Rosie so we all went back together,” Ev gestured over his shoulder. “We thought it might be nice to surprise you before the day got started.”

“And Jack?”

“He sort of just tagged along… not sure what that’s about.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” Val grinned. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“You think…?” He wrapped his arms around her, swaying her in place.  

“Oh absolutely,” she laughed, arms sliding up the back of his leather jacket. “Jack’s got a twinkle in his eye.”

“You have a twinkle in your eye.” His face pressed into the crook of her shoulder, his eyes closing against her cheek, lashes tickling her gently. 

“I wonder why that is.” 

His reply was cut short by Olive hollering that the coffee was done, Dougie front and center at the window so he could get his first cup. 

“No sugar, please, lovey.”

Val could just see the blush on Olive’s face at the nickname, shaking her head as she climbed into the truck to help her serve the boys. 

“Oh, you like that one!” Dougie looked triumphant, taking the coffee from Olive with a grin. 

“That one?” 

“I’m trying out nicknames,” he explained, waving at Val. “Olive likes that one, I can tell.”

“Everett,” Val turned to her boyfriend, passing over his coffee. “Please don’t try any new nicknames for me, okay?”

“I gotcha,” he laughed. “Besides, we tested out sweet cheeks and you hated it.”

“Still hate it,” she grimaced. “Sounds funny and, dunno, just not like you.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I remember.”

“Ah, better.” She smiled, clocking two small boys running across the field from the hardstand at breakneck speed, laughing the whole way. 

“Incoming,” Helen laughed, side stepping and pulling Nash with her. 

“Who’s kids are those?” He asked, looking around at the group. 

“Billy and Sammy,” Helen replied, pointing out each respectively. “Local boys who’ve taken a shine to Kenny and Winks.” 

“The ground crew fellas, right?”

“Right. They came by one day while the two of them were working and we haven’t been able to shake em since.” 

“Colonel Harding’s okay with that?”

“He doesn’t mind much,” Tattie patted Nash on the shoulder as she moved behind him to join Olive and Val in the truck. “As long as they don’t get in the way of work, and they’re behaved, he’s fine.”

The two young boys almost ran head first into the Clubmobile, Everett reaching his arm out to catch Sammy from falling as he tripped. 

“Woah, Sammy! Easy pal!”

“Sorry Captain Ev!” The young boy giggled as Everett ruffled his hair, and Val couldn’t help but recall the better part of her dream that was Ev and the baby, and the gentle nature he had taken. 

“Are you two behaving?” He looked down at them much like a parent would, but a teasing smile on his face. 

“Yeah!” They chorused, hoping it was convincing enough. 

“Alright, well, go on, I think Miss Olive has something for you.” 

Olive had two fresh donuts on a piece of kitchen roll for them, and Val could practically see their mouths watering at the sight. She quickly grabbed two of the smaller mugs from under the counter and filled them with milk before topping them off with some of the coffee; a little something to make the kids feel like they were grown ups. Something her Nonna used to do back home, but with slightly less milk and definitely more coffee. 

“Alright boys, careful,” Val leaned down with the two cups, their small hands grabbing at them eagerly before realizing she had made them a coffee. “And don’t tell your Ma! It’s our secret.”

“Wow! Coffee!” Billy’s eyes grew wide, his mouth pulled wide in a smile up at Val. 

“What do you say, hmm fellas?” Dougie ruffled their hair as he passed them by. 

“Thank you Miss Val and Miss Olive!” They cheered before running back towards the hardstands. 

“You gave two hyper kids coffee? Jeez Val!”

“Oh relax, it’s mostly milk.”

“Oh! Well, that’s smart of you.” Olive grinned. 

“Right,” Val winked. “Not just a pretty face.”

“The prettiest, though,” Ev winked, passing his half smoked cigarette to her through the hatch with a smile. “Morning Maude. Did we lose Doug?”

“Ernest,” Olive teased, looking out at where Dougie had just been standing with the boys. “He was just here, I’m not sure where he is actually.”

“Okay sourpuss, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Ev grinned, gesturing to the figure approaching in the fog. 

“There he is!” Olive breathed, leaving the truck to meet him halfway.

Val remained in the truck with Tattie, the two brunettes leaning on the open hatch to talk to their friends while Doug had pulled Olive to the side to talk privately. 

“Still can’t believe you gave those kids coffee,” Tattie laughed. “Even the slightest bit!”

“Oh stop, my Nonna used to give me coffee when I was their age. It’s nothing.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” Jack looked up at her, half smile on his face. 

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Just one of those things.” He shrugged as she passed him his own cup. 

“I don’t think much of it. Those kids’ll be drinking it eventually, it may as well come from adults who are watching them.”

“Did your Nonna give Biddick coffee when he was a kid, too?” Helen asked. 

“Absolutely not!” Val roared, laughing at the look on Helen’s face. “That boy does not need anything else, he’s hyper enough.”

The laughter of the group filled the foggy space around the truck, casually sipping their morning coffee and picking on the first few donuts that had been set out. Nash looked like it was a privilege to be among the group, sticking close to Helen even though the other boys had done a good job at making him feel welcome. 

“Doug! You need smokes?” Ev called from his perch outside the hatch of the Clubmobile. Val was handing him down two packs, not waiting for Doug to answer. 

“Thanks Val,” Doug grinned, tipping his imaginary hat at her as he came back from where he was with Olive, the girl now wearing an oversize jacket that Val made a mental note to ask her about later. “You sure know me well.”

“Kind of my job, Dougie.”

He was about to respond, mouth open and eyes wide with what was sure to be a smart ass remark, when Chick Harding’s voice cut through their morning reprieve. The Colonel came marching across the grass, hands on his hips as he stopped in front of the truck. 

“Alright you lot, briefings about to start let’s go!”  

He waved both Ev and Doug away and into the hut, giving Jack a good natured shove in the same direction. He appraised Nash quickly, the new pilot taking one look at the Colonel and dashing off in the other direction without more than a wave goodbye to Helen. 

“Replacement?” Chick looked over his shoulder where Nash had run off, an amused look on his face. 

“Yes, Chicky,” Val sighed from the window. “His name is Nash.”

“Valencia…” he warned, all the annoyance of a dad who loved his daughter present as he looked up at her. 

His face softened as she placed his coffee on the ledge of the hatch, fixed perfectly, and a second cup for Red Bowman next to it. 

“Thank you.” he gave her a half sheepish smile, the brunette in the truck shaking her head at him even as she handed him two donuts. 

“That one’s for Red, and here, eat something for Christ sake.”

“We ate already.”

“Don’t lie to us, Chick, I was up early and I saw you and Bowman in the tower, not the mess hall.” Tattie turned on him, her own scowl present. 

“Fine, we’ll eat,” he sighed. “Thank you. Now, can I get you girls to close up the truck and come with me please?”

“What?” 

“Briefing hut, all of you, please.” 

“Chicky…”

“Miss Tattie, we’ll tell ya when you get inside. Now come on.”

Val turned to Tattie, her own face a mirror image, while Helen stood nervously on the grass. 

“Alright, you three, let’s close it up for now.” Tattie gestured to the girls, the confusion not ebbing as they followed Harding’s orders. 

“Take the dang dog on your way in, would ya? Don’t need him out here unsupervised.”

Val dusted off her jumpsuit before climbing down from the truck, looping her arm with Helen, who was still standing in place on the grass. Olive had run ahead to meet Benny at the door of the briefing hut to take Meatball from him. 

“You don’t think…” Helen’s voice was a whisper, and laced with nerves. “Do you think he knows about Nash and me?”

“Oh Helen, if he was mad about that, he wouldn’t tell you in the briefing hut.”

“I mean, I know we’re technically not supposed to have relationships with the men, but we see them every day!”

“Helen, if you think Red and Chicky don’t already know…” Val laughed, remembering how Red’s voice had boomed across the tannoy the night before, hollering for Dougie to get to bed. 

“Oh, Bowman has eyes in his ass!” Olive joined their conversation, now with Meatball dutifully at her side. 

“Eww!” Helen shuddered with a laugh.

“It’s a stupid rule anyway,” Tattie joined them, coming up on Helen’s other side. “How can they expect us not to get close to these boys!”

“Tattie Spaatz, defying the rules?” Val balked. “Why I never thought I’d see the day!”

“You hush,” she turned to her, voice stern but eyes glimmering with something mischievous. “Come on, let’s see what this is all about hmm?”

The girls entered the briefing hut, all passing by Red at the door as he greeted them with a tight smile. 

“Spaatz, DiRosano, Porter, Lewis,” he addressed them all by their last names, only rarely ever using their first names. “Come on in girls.”

They followed him further into the hut, the men around them talking amongst themselves. The chatter in the room filled the large space, all of them seemingly doing their best to ignore that a mission was quite literally looming overhead, and that tomorrow, some of these faces may not be here to laugh with. Val tried not to think about it too hard, especially with so many of the faces being her friends and more. 

“Okay, Chick, why are we here?” Tattie’s arms were folded under her bust, and suddenly it was General Spaatz’s daughter staring down Colonel Chick Harding, cigar wedged between his lips and all. 

“Need to make sure that dang mutt doesn’t get lost in here again.”

“You hardly need four of us to watch Meatball, he’s not that bad.”

“Alright, fine,” Chick sighed, beckoning the four of them closer. “Bowman, tell em.”

“This is a big one girls,” Red sighed. “And we’re not blind to the fact that some of you have gotten close to some of the men, and we feel it’s unfair to keep you in the dark.”

“How big?” Olive squeaked. 

“Big, Lewis. Real big.”

Olive nodded, the hand not holding Meatball’s leash grabbing at Val, her nails digging in unintentionally. 

“You know we’ll find out anyway, but you think it’s better if we hear it first hand.”

“Exactly.”

“It doesn’t lessen the worry, Red.” 

“No, Valencia, I suppose it doesn’t, but, somewhere along the way you four got under everyone’s skin here and the fellas all love ya, they respect the hell outta ya’s and well, Chick and I feel the same.”

“Chick Harding is going soft, girls.” Tattie smirked, but nodded at the man in front of her just the same. 

“I ain’t soft, Spaatz.” He groaned, cigar smoke pluming around him as he spoke. 

“Alright Chicky, you’re not soft,” she conceded. “Where do you want us to sit?”

“In the back, if you don’t mind.”

“Come on girls, let’s find some chairs hmm?”

“And no balls!” Chick called after them, prompting a 

shrill whine to erupt from Meatball, several of the men in the room turning to look at him, the rumble of laughter and the dog's name filling the room. 

Making her way towards the back with the girls, Val doesn’t register the presence of someone behind her until his voice cuts above the rest, loud and full of energy. 

“There she is! There’s the gal!” 

“My god, Curt, do you ever just, I don’t know, say hello like a normal person?”

“Now why would I do that?” He grinned, pulling her into a hug on the spot. 

“No you’re right, why would you.” She rolled her eyes, hugging him back regardless. 

“Hey, what are yous doing in here? This ain’t your usual spot.”

“Chicky wanted us in on this one,” her voice now lowered so that only he could hear her. “It’s big, and they don’t want us hearing anything second hand.”

“Well, you gals should be included! You’re damn important if ya ask me.”

“Thanks, Curt, but we’re still only Red Cross. I only know so much because Chicky can’t type to save his life.” 

“Yea well, yous should know more,” he grinned, pulling out his cigarettes. “And not just cause me and the rest of the fellas tell you.”

“Curt,” Olive joined them, the pilot throwing an arm over her shoulders in greeting. “Want me to save you a seat?

“Heya English,” he gave her a squeeze before letting her go. “Thanks, but Dickie’s got us chairs up front with your boys.”

“Ah, grand!” Olive gave his arm a friendly pat before tugging on Meatball’s lead to head back to the seats the girls were occupying. 

“I’ll see ya after, gal. Have a coffee ready for me!”

“Pain in the ass!” Val called after him as he walked away, taking the seat on the end of a row, Dickie to his right. 

Just as Dickie offered a wave from his spot, Val spotted Everett, Doug and Croz in the row behind them, Everett’s hazel eyes going wide at seeing her in the briefing room before spotting the other girls behind her. She shrugged and his brows furrowed, just as the officer at the door called for attention, and every single man in the room stood as Chicky made his way to the front with Red at his side. The girls quickly hurried to the four chairs at the back of the room, Val taking the seat next to Olive, who was trying to settle Meatball. The husky seemed annoyed that all of his friends were in one room and no one would play with him, and kept whining at Olive’s feet. At the front of the room, Chick Harding commanded attention, and Val couldn’t help but feel rooted to the spot as the whole room focused on him. Next to her, Olive was petting Meatball, shushing him as quietly as she could until finally, his head came to rest on her lap. 

“What’s up?” Val turned to her, her right hand scratching between his ears. 

“He’s just moping because all his friends are here and no one will play.”

At the mere mention of the word play, Meatball began huffing and whining again, looking between Olive and Val to see which one would start their game first. 

“Not now buddy,” Olive spoke in hushed tones, trying to keep him quiet. “After, I promise.”

“Meatball…” Val warned, trying her hand at quieting him down. “Stai zitto, questo è importante.”

Be quiet, this is important.

“Aww he’s just a baby,” Helen came from Olive’s other side, reaching for the dog who was now lapping up all the attention. “He doesn’t mean it.”

“Girls,” Tattie’s whisper fell over the three of them.  “Quiet, or Chicky is going to regret ever asking us in here.”

“Today, the mighty eighth will be sending up a max effort of three air task forces, totaling 376 heavy bombers and 240 fighters!” Chicky’s voice carried through the room, all of the men cheering like it was a football game. “That’s the largest air armada ever assembled in the history of mankind!”

Val caught the excitement from the corner of the room where her friends sat, both Everett and Doug, and Curt and Dickie shared a shout of excitement before focusing back on the Colonel at the front of the room. 

“We will be in the first task force, targeting a Messerschmitt 109 engine assembly plant in Regensburg,” he announced, the men around him scribbling notes. “The second and third task forces will hit the ball bearing factories in Schweinfurt, because no war machine moves without em!”

Val noticed that Chick looked proud, and it was a foreign expression to see on the man. Normally she’d see him grumbling and complaining about this or that, the dog, the coffee and what have you. But this, he seemed infinitely proud of his men, and the Hundredth. When he mentioned that there were an infinite number of lives they could save if this mission went off as planned, the men in the room fell into a hush, talking quietly amongst themselves, presumably to determine who might be leading this, and she couldn’t help but pick up rumbling of both the names Egan and Cleven the most. 

Chicky called for their attention, his arm gesturing to the curtain behind him which the Corporal dutifully pulled back, revealing a map, and a route that looked terribly long, at least to her untrained eye. Whistles and groans replaced the hushed awe of just moments ago, and she just picked up on Harry Crosby groaning oh boy as he caught sight of what he would surely have to navigate his crew through. 

“Bowman.”

Taking his cue, Red stepped in for Chick, coming to stand in front of the map before he began speaking, his New England accent filling the room as he addressed the men. 

“It’s a three punch combo,” he began, arm coming out to trace the first of three colored strings. “And the Luftwaffe will only be able to defend one of them!”

“Uh, Major?” Curt’s voice, quieter than everyone, especially Val was used to, interrupted Red Bowman’s speech. “Why’s that red line go all the way down through Africa?”

“Well, that is a characteristically astute question Curt, and I’ll get to that in a minute if you don’t mind.” 

“Yeah yeah, go on and laugh…” Curt groaned, sliding down in his seat as the room broke into peals of laughter. 

Val just managed to catch Everett leaning forward in his seat to flick the pencil from behind Curt’s ear in what could only be described as sibling banter, one pilot to another as he mumbled a drawn out  fuuuuck you to Curt before both of them turned to see her shaking her head in exasperation. Like a mother whose children had exhausted her, Val pointed up to the front of the room, making sure they both focused on what Red was still talking about- second task force turning around, rearming and refueling, enemy territory, ME109’s until finally, a single sentence put the whole room into near deafening silence. 

“You’re going to Africa, gentlemen.”

“Val… Val did he say Africa?”

“Yea, he said Africa, Ol…”

“Dear god,” the Brit whispered from her spot next to her, one hand gripping Val’s with such force, she could feel her leaving small crescents in the skin of her palm, while the other was still buried in Meatball’s fur. “Why…why Africa… it’s so far…”

“Olive, hey, chickie, calm down, it’s alright.”

“I don’t like this.” 

Olive was borderline shaking in her seat, her eyes wide as they continued to listen to Red talk about the boys landing in Africa and linking up with the 12th who had promised ice cold beer. A holiday. With the fog outside not letting up, Val couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Chick and Red expected the boys to get up in the air safely, never mind General LeMay and his plan for them. It just didn’t seem safe. Olive’s nerves seemed to confirm that, her fear now on full display in the back of the room. 

“Tattie…” Val whispered, leaning over towards her to pinch her arm. “Give me your flask.”

“Val…”

“Give it here, please.” She gestured to Olive, and Tattie handed it over to her after a single glance at the girl, her eyes softening. 

“Ol, drink.”

“What?”

“Come on, drink, it’ll settle your nerves.”

Olive takes the flask from her, taking a generous sip before passing it back to Val, who also takes a generous sip. When Tattie pulls it from her grasp with a roll of her eyes, she can’t help but wonder if what she suspects is going on between her and Jack Kidd has her just as rattled. Half expecting her to take a sip as well, Val watches as Tattie slips it back into her pocket before pulling out her cigarettes and lighting one. 

“Major Kidd will be command pilot in Blakely’s fort-” Chicky announced. 

“Oh god… they’re leading them all into this soup.” Val murmured, dropping her head back. 

“Major Egan will be riding with Captain Cruikshank as…reserve command pilot of the group.”

“What the hell is a reserve command pilot?” Helen furrowed her brows, her gentle expression turned somewhat sour. 

“I think it means Egan didn’t want to be left out.”

“When does he ever.” 

“Gentlemen, good luck, and I’ll see you in a couple of days. Dismissed!”

As the men in the room stand to exit, Tattie stands and begins leading the girls from the hut, and like ducks in a row, they follow her. Olive is behind Val, one hand holding Meatball’s lead and the other still gripping onto Val’s wrist; mostly so she didn’t get lost in the shuffle of bodies leaving the room. As they approach the door, she spots Ev waiting for her, arms folded over his chest, cigarette between his lips, cheeky grin on his face. 

“And why were you four in there?” He throws his arm over Val’s shoulder as she approaches, guiding her out of the hut as Dougie does the same with Olive. 

“Chicky invited us…”

“He did? Why?”

“Said we deserved to know about this one.” Her voice sounded small, and so unlike her, even to her own ears. 

“And now that you know?” Ev stopped just outside the truck, taking her hands in his. 

“It’s Africa, Everett…”

“Yeah,” he sighed, and could feel her anxiety over the situation rolling off her in waves. This is why he felt the way he did about her being in the briefing room the last time, except now, Colonel Harding had asked her to be in there and he could hardly fight it. “I can’t say I’m thrilled with the location either.”

“It’s bad enough when you’re up for a few hours, but this? Days?”

“Hey, come here,” guiding her off to the side of the truck, behind the open doors off the back, he hoped she’d tell him what was really eating at her. “Talk to me, what’s going on hmm?” 

She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about the dream from that morning. About how she dreamt of their future, their child, but that something -someone- was missing entirely from that almost perfect scenario. In telling him, would she be giving that nightmarish fear of losing her oldest friend an escape from her mind and setting it loose upon reality? Would it scare him? Make him more nervous than he already was? Or, would it give him more reasons to fight, and fly so safely and smoothly that he’d come back to her, and lead the rest of their friends home safely too? 

“Want you to take this,” she chose against the former, reaching into the collar of her blouse and instead, pulling out her new dog tags. “One for you and one for me.”

“You have tags now?”

“Got them this morning,” she confirmed, yanking the lower hanging one from the chain. “I can’t go up with you, so this is the next best thing.”

“You know I take you up with me every time, right?”

“In your heart, the same way Curt told me he takes me up with him, yes.”

“Yes, in my heart,” he grinned, taking the tag from her hand and swiftly pulling his own out from his collar. “But also, in the red braid you’ve so securely tied to my wrist.” 

He pulled his own extra tag from his chain, putting the one with her name in its place before handing her the one with his name. Blakely, Everett E. The significance of carrying each other's names wasn’t lost on her, and she knew that if he was giving her back the same weight that her name carried to him, with his own, that there was stock to be taken in that dream. More stock in the good, and less in the fears she was projecting in losing someone she loved.  

“Also, I do take you with me,” he tucked his tags back into his shirt, before pulling out a small photograph from the breast pocket of his flight suit and handing it to her. “See? You go everywhere with me, baby.”

It was a photo she hadn’t ever seen of herself before, but could tell you exactly where it had been taken. The night in the officers club after Curt had been announced safe in Scotland- one too many cocktails had her perched comfortably in Ev’s lap, but he wasn’t in the picture. It was just her, and she was looking over at someone else and grinning, her bottom lip snugly between her teeth as she tried not to cackle with laughter, her eyes dancing with mirth. 

“When did you sneak this?” She looked up at him, the picture between two of her fingers in place of her usual cigarette as she waved it in his face, eyes and lips mimicking the frozen image of herself. 

“Don’t you worry about when,” Ev plucked it back from her, tucking it safely away over his heart, and then pulled her close. “Just remember, you’re with me every single day, even if I’m not on the ground.”

“Please,” pressing her face into his chest, breathing him in, committing it to memory. “Please don’t do anything stupid, and protect each other, all of you.”

“You know I won’t get reckless,” he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, uncaring of the hairspray she had set it with. “I’ve got too much at stake here on the ground to risk getting reckless.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, listen to Jack.”

“I will… you behave here while I’m gone, yeah? No getting up to mischief with the girls.”

“No promises.” She grinned, peeking up at him before standing on her toes to press her lips to his.  

“Yeah, even in this soup I saw that coming a mile away,” shaking his head, he kissed her back, knowing that time was ticking away and his crew would be heading for the hardstand soon. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Pulling away, they turned to head back to the front of the truck so that she could carry on with work and he could get his coffee before leaving, when Curt rounded the corner wild eyed and looking for trouble. 

“There ya are! Oh, Val!” He called in a singsong voice. ���You promised me a coffee!”

“You demanded coffee,” giving his shoulder a shove, he let out a y laugh at her fiery behavior. “There’s three other girls in the truck, Curtis.” 

“Curtis?! Ouch!”

“Serves you right.”

“I’d like to be served coffee, maybe a donut for good measure.”

“You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Yeah I know,” he grinned. “Are you good? Is she good?”

Yeah, I’m okay,” Val nodded. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m good… got my bracelet and everything,” lifting his wrist; he wiggled it so both Val and Ev could see . “It broke the other day but I tied it back on.”

“CURT! No! You’re not supposed to, you know that!”

“It’s fine, gal!”

“I don’t have time to make you a new one…”

“You don’t gotta, it’s fine!”

She knew the distress on her face was evident when Everett stepped between her and Curt. She watched as he dropped a hand to Curt’s shoulder fixing him with a look that said he ought to know better than to mess around with what Val considered to be sacred. 

“Curt, even I know you don’t mess around with that.”

“Ah, it’s not the first time I tied it back on myself, won’t be the last,” Curt grinned, slipping out from under Ev’s grip and heading to the window of the Clubmobile. “Now how about that coffee for the road?”

With a roll of her eyes at Curt and a quick kiss to Ev’s cheek, Val climbs back into the truck where Helen is pouring coffee and passing out smokes and snacks to the boys lined up dutifully at the window. Tattie is a few feet away on the grass trying to pry Olive and Dougie apart with a soft smile, knowing they both have jobs to do regardless of the nervous energy swirling around the base. She hears Olive tell Doug that she’ll fix him a snack for the road, and sets about doing the same for Everett and the rest of the Just A Snappin crew. 

“Ev, what do you and the crew need for the trip?” She leans out the window, handing him another coffee and a donut. She knows that like many of the boys, he’s not the biggest fan of the powdered eggs, and usually chooses not to eat them before a flight. “Curt! Get out of the truck!” 

“How’d you even know it was me?” He grumbled, jumping down from the back of the truck to join the rest of the guys on the grass. DeMarco, who had been walking towards the truck with his crew, turned and raised his coffee in a salute, laughing at the put out look on Curt’s face.  

“Busted, Biddick!” Benny shouted. 

“Okay, okay. You,” Val gestured to Curt, holding out two coffees, and gesturing with a nod of her head to the two donuts on the window. “Take these, and the donuts, they’re for you and Dickie.”

“Thanks gal! Love you!” He grinned,grabbed his provisions, and blew her a cheeky kiss before running off to join his crew, uncaring of the coffee sloshing over the side of his cup. 

“A mess,” she shook her head. “Now, what do you need, handsome?” 

“You gave me smokes before,” he smiles, lifting the coffee to his lips. “Not sure what the rest of my boys need though, and I know Olive has Dougie all squared away.”

“Well, take another pack of smokes, and if the crew needs anything, send em over.”

“Thanks baby,” he grinned, turning to face the rest of the men on his crew with a soft authority that Val knew was the reason they all respected him so much. “Alright boys, if you need anything, go see Val so she can set you up!”

————————————————————

“Meatball, no! Uh, Olive a little help please?” 

Looking out the window, Val found Helen on the ground, Meatball pawing at her excitedly as he mistook her securing him to the pole for playtime. The poor girl was dusting off his fur and trying not to sneeze as Olive came around the front to help her, laughing as she pulled the husky from Helen’s lap. 

“Helen, you know how he gets…”

“He only listens to you and DeMarco.” She grumbled, wincing as Meatball let loose a howl at the mere mention of his favorite human’s name. 

“Oh now look what you started,” Val groaned. “You know saying Benny’s name gets him all wild.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Helen sighed, standing and trying to get all the grass and husky fur off her uniform. “Meatball, he can’t hear you from here boy!”

“He doesn’t know that.” Olive chuckled, securing the leash just as a jeep came to a screeching halt, startling the girls and the dog. 

“Garcia,” Val addressed the man behind the wheel, lighting a cigarette and coming around the front of the truck to join Helen and Olive. “What can we do for you?”

“Just stopping by to let you know the fellas have got a thirty minute delay.”

“Not surprising in this shit.” She gestured to the fog still swirling around them.”

“If you girls wanted to drop them another hot coffee and cheer em up… maybe say goodbye again.” He suggested, gesturing subtly to the empty seats in his jeep. 

“Say less!” Olive grinned, unhooking Meatball and guiding him towards the jeep. 

“Give me two minutes, let me put a bag together for them.” Val smiled, turning back towards the truck. She had two coffees and a bag of donuts ready in record time, jumping into the jeep with Olive as Tattie and Helen waved them off from the Clubmobile with a smile. 

“Step on it Garcia!” Val calls up to him with a laugh. “They’ll take the news better if it comes from us!”

“You got that right, DiRosano,” he laughed. “They sure like looking at you two more than they like looking at me!”

Without another word, Garcia steps on the gas, the jeep and its occupants beginning their journey through the mist. Meatball whined from his spot between Olive and Val, no doubt picking up the scents of all the fellas who had been driven out the same way on their trucks only a short while ago. Even with the headlights on, the road ahead was barely visible, and Val wasn’t sure how Garcia was managing it, maybe it was muscle memory, but she just hoped he got them to the hardstand in one piece. 

“It’s a real pea-souper, this one.” Garcia huffed, turning to avoid the hardstand of another fort that Val wasn’t able to identify. “Do you reckon they’ll call it off?” Olive practically begged, hoping for the answer she wanted to hear. “Not a chance, Lewis,” he sighed a bit apologetically. “This is a big one. Brass are taking a lotta risks and–well, I’d better zip it.” “It’s nothing I won’t find out in a few weeks when I’m typing reports for Chicky,” Val retorts, reaching around to pet Meatball. “No need to keep it quiet.”

“Sorry, Val, force of habit to zip my lips and all…”

“It’s fine, Garcia, we know. We were in the briefing room this morning.”

“Yeah? God, The Brass must really like you ladies… I think everyone on this base likes you ladies actually.”

Not sure what else to say, the trio continues to drive in silence, Garcia seeming to have run out of polite conversation within a few moments. The brakes screech as they come to a stop, and Val looks up to find the all too familiar silhouette of Just A Snappin looming in the distance, the plane somehow even more intimidating now, as opposed to the night she had been out here with Everett, and only the headlights of a jeep illuminated her. The fog almost completely covered it, and even though she could just see the nose in the distance, it felt tremendous. 

“Alright you three, this is your stop.”

“Thanks Garcia!”   

Jumping from the jeep, careful of the coffees in her hands, donuts having been passed to Olive earlier, she watches as Meatball bounds away into the mist, the dog gone in a flash. 

“Damnit, where’d he go!”

“Probably to find DeMarco…”

“Great, that’ll be fun later.”

“Maybe Kenny and Wink will find him before we do.” Olive chuckled, looping her arm through Val’s as they began walking closer to the fort. 

“Chickie, I can see through this haze just as well as you can.” “This is so we don’t lose each other.” Olive laughs in return, resting her head on Val’s shoulder for a short second. “Ol, that’ll never happen. I promise.” Val smiled, though Olive couldn’t see it, and dropped her head to her friends for a moment. 

They walk silently, arm in arm and careful not to bump a tire, or the wing as their steps take them closer to the fort. Val catches a glance of Olive trying, in vain, to wrap her jacket around her with her free hand, and realizes she’s never seen Olive wearing it before. It’s too big for the other woman, and littered in various patches and insignias. Yes, it must belong to Douglass. 

“Dougie’s?” Val asks, gesturing with her elbow to the jacket. . 

“Yeah! Sewed all these on himself,” Olive beams at her. “Ain't it neat?”

“He…he did…Sewed…himself?” Val practically balks, turning to Olive with her eyes wide. 

“Yeah!”

“Ol, I've been sewing all of his patches and clothes!” Val exclaims, green eyes wide. “Ever since Ev and I started seeing each other, I’ve taken care of all the guys in their fort.”

“Oh?”

“Wait till I get my hands on him...” She sighed as they approached the fort, ducking under the wing to find both their men, and select members of the crew laying about on the hardstand. 

“Well lookie here!” Dougie exclaimed, standing as he spotted the girls approaching. Ev, who had been leaning back against the wheel, scrambling to stand upon spotting Val. “What are you two doing all the way out here?”

“Garcia wanted us to share some news.” Olive grinned, glancing at Val. 

“Yeah? Well, let’s have it then.”

“Thirty minute delay!” They both yelled at the same time, Olive doing a little wiggle of her hands and hips to try and make it entertaining. 

Both boys immediately fell into laughter, even Charlie Via joining in from where he was still on the ground. Somehow, Val knew it wasn’t just about making their boys laugh, but the whole crew. 

“Is The Clubmobile serving snacks and putting on a show now, Maude?” Everett grinned, throwing an arm over Val’s shoulder as she kissed him on the cheek, his coffee still in her hand. 

“Hey, get it for free while you can.” Olive winked, taking Dougie’s coffee from Val and handing it over. “Olive and The Clubmobile Gals,” Val smiled. “It’s got some jazz to it!”

“You gonna be a star, Maude? Take care of all of us?”

“You bet, Ernest.” She laughs as Dougie wraps his arms around her waist and gives her a squeeze before stopping in his tracks at the wild look Val is giving him. 

“Uh, Val?”

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you James Douglass…”

“Uhm, can you leave my bones? I need to drop bombs in a few hours and well, I need them.”

“Oh, you’re in trouble baby.” Olive titters, hand covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her giggle. 

“You! Sewing!”

“Oh… yeah, heh… well, I know when I’ve been caught.”

“Dougie! I’ve been sewing all your clothes and patches for months now!”

“I know,” he laughs at Val’s annoyed expression, and she can see the gears turning behind his eyes. “It just makes me feel safer when you do it.”

Val’s face softens immediately, falling back against Ev once more as Olive lets out an aww at Doug’s confession. How could she argue with that? 

“Aw, darling, that's so sweet!” Olive kisses his cheek softly, unable to hide the affection for him in that moment. 

“The puppy dog eyes work every time.” Doug smiled down at her, thinking that Val was preoccupied with Everett. 

“You’re a little shit, Doug!” She hollered from where she stood, Ev pulling her aside so that they could have a quiet moment, while Olive and Doug did the same. 

“So…Garcia really drove you two all the way out here?”

“He did. He thought you might need another hot coffee, or a kiss goodbye.”

“He said that?”

“Well, not in such a way, but, yes.”

“So you brought me hot coffee and a kiss hmm?”

“I did! Are you happy?”

“Well, all I got was a kiss on the cheek, but maybe if you-”

Val wasted not a moment longer before leaning up on her toes to reach Everett’s lips, neither caring if her Victory Red stained his own lips, she just wanted to feel closer to him. 

“Better?”

“Much better,” holding her against his chest, she felt him press his nose into her hair, and just barely heard the sound of him taking a deep breath, as if he was committing the scent of her to memory. “You know I love the real thing.”

“You mean my lipstick smudged all over you.” 

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Fresh,” she wiped at his lip with her thumb, her movements slowing as she tried to force herself to believe that he would come back to her. “I can’t send you off to Africa with lipstick all over your mouth.”

“No I don’t suppose it would be a good look would it.”

“Bring me back something?” She posed the question lightly, casually, as if he had said he was going to the corner store and she asked him to get her an ice cream bar. 

“Not sure what they have in Africa, but, I’ll see what I can rustle up.”

“Thanks handsome.” She winked, and was about to kiss him again when the sound of someone approaching caused her to stop short. 

“I thought I heard yous girls!”

“Hi Curt,” she turned and flashed him an impossibly tight smile, and he knew he had just interrupted a potential kiss, like any good brother would. “Yes, you heard us.”

“What are ya doing out here hmm?”

“Garcia drove us out so we could tell the boys about the delay.”

“Jeez Blakely, you get the news from two pretty ladies and I gotta hear it from Garcia? What gives!”

“Get yourself a pretty Red Cross girl, Curt, and maybe you won’t have to see Garcia every time there’s a delay,” Ev laughed, slapping his friend on the shoulder before walking away. “I’ll give you both a minute, yeah?”

“Thanks honey.” 

“Yeah, thanks honey!” Curt called after him, only to be met with Ev Blakely’s middle finger. 

“You deserved that.” Val gave him a gentle shove. 

“Yea I know,” Curt grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and hugging her close. “This is some soup…”

“Reminds me of the fog that rolls in off the water back home.”

“Always spooked me as a kid.”

“Still gives me the chills now…”

The pair stood there under the cover of Just A Snappin’s wing, silent as the mist swirled around them, trying to find something in the distance that wasn’t obscured in haze. She wasn’t sure how to say goodbye for this particular flight. Usually, Curt would snatch his coffee from her, give her a cheeky goodbye and run to the truck, much like he had done earlier. But this time, that dream was weighing on her again, and she didn’t know if it was just a fear, or a premonition. 

“What’s eating ya?”

“Hmm?”

“I know when somethings bugging ya, so come on, let’s hear it.”

“It’s nothing,” she dismissed his prying, not sure how he’d react if she told him. “Silly, really.”

“Tell me, cause I ain't gonna be able to go up there knowing you’re down here upset over something.”

“I had a really strange dream last night…”

“Okay, well, I bet it’s not all that strange,” he softened at the expression on her face. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“It was like, I was watching my life in front of me, after the war. There was a house, and Everett, and…”

“And?”

“And a baby…”

“Gal, that ain’t anything to be so worried about! That sounds like a pretty good life to me!”

“It was… until you weren’t there.”

“I wasn’t?”

“No, at least, I don’t think so… Ev was talking to the baby, and I just remember that he said that I missed you a lot, and that sometimes I got sad.”

“Hey, if you’re worried that you and Blakely are gonna go and tie the knot and I ain’t gonna be around anymore, well, I got news for ya…”

“You better be around, Curt,” she turned to him, eyes filled with tears she was afraid to shed in front of him. “Nothing stupid up there, okay? I mean it!”

“I promise ya, I’m coming back.”

“I love you, you pain in the ass…”

“I love ya too…”

She pulled him close, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she completely disregarded his gear, mae west, and jacket to hold her friend just a little longer. For once, Curt didn’t try and joke with her, or brush her off for being  worried. The weight of this mission, the length of it, the time away, it had everyone a little on edge. So he hugged her back just as tight. The way he did when she had her heart broken back home, or when her Nonno passed away when they were teenagers; the way he always would for as long as they had each other. 

“I wish you had let me braid you a new bracelet…” She mumbled into his neck. 

“This one’s still good, I know it,” he gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling away to see her face. “Cause you made it, and it’s got all the eye-talian luck in the world.”

“My mother would crack you good for that.”

“What? Tying it back on, or saying Italian the way I did?”

“Both.” She laughed, wiping at her eyes. 

“Hey, wipe those eyes, alright? I’ll be back before ya know it.”

“You better, because it takes too long to break in a new best friend.”

“You got that right gal…” 

He hugged her one final time before stepping back, and with a wink, disappeared into the mist. 

She sucked in a sharp breath as he walked away, only turning back towards the fort once she could no longer see him. Even the way he said goodbye had her feeling eerie. Christ, she hated this god damn soup. She tried to swipe at her eyes so no one would know she had been crying, but it was no use as Everett stood from his spot on the ground to meet her halfway. 

“Okay?”

“Nope,” she admitted, knowing that he had seen her face and it would be useless to try and hide it from him. “But, I will be. I just…”

“You say goodbye?”

“It sounds so final.”

“It’s not,” he reassured her, hugging her against his side as he walked her back towards their friends. “It’s just temporary.”

“Yea, Africa and back.” She groaned. 

“Come on, come sit.”

“Ev…”

“I’ve got a riddle? Would that cheer you up?”

“A riddle?”

“Yup!” 

He takes his previous spot on the ground next to Doug, gently tugging her down until she’s sitting between his spread legs, her back to his front; the two of them fit snugly together like a puzzle piece. Just as he’s about to speak, Dougie raises a hand to stop him, gesturing to Croz who’s laying next to them, head propped up on his bag and briefcase, crush cap covering his face. 

“Let him sleep!” Val hisses, knowing that he’d need his rest just as much as the rest of them, if not more with his airsickness. 

“Nah.” Doug grinned wickedly before furiously tapping on the navigator's leg to wake him. 

Croz grumbles and wakes with a light snort, his brow furrowed and face painted in annoyance as he spots Doug grinning next to him. 

“What, Doug?” “Ev’s gonna tell us a riddle!” “You woke me up for a riddle?” “I figured your brain could use the exercise.” Dougie teased him, the girls laughing as Crosby swatted at him.

“Alright, fine,” Harry sighed over dramatically. “Go on, Blakely, the floor is yours.”

Ev takes a drag from his Lucky Strike before beginning, clearing his throat and indulging in the dramatics for the sake of his audience before he speaks. “You’re on the way to purgatory–” “Purgatory?” Olive cuts him off, eyes wide. “Yes, Maude, purgatory,” he nods. “You’re on the way to purgatory; one road goes to Valhalla, the other goes to Hell, damnation.”

“Uh huh?” Croz leans forward, his tired face now clouded with confusion and curiosity.

“On each of the roads, is a goblin-”

“A goblin?” Olive cuts in again, trying to stifle a giggle. “Ernest, where is this going?”

“If you’ll let me get through more than one line, English, you'll find out,” he sighs, making a face at her. “Anyway! One goblin always tells the truth, the other is a tricky little fucker, he always lies.”

“An imp!” Olive chuckles, catching Val’s eye.

“Birichino,” she offers up, winking at Ev. “That's what Ma calls Curt.”

“What’s the one question that you need to ask, that’s gonna tell you the right way to go?” Ev finished, pulled Val closer so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. 

“Would you ask them which is the good goblin?” Olive turned to Ev after a moment of pondering. 

“I was about to say that!” Croz crowed, frisbeeing his crush cap at her with a laugh.  

“You snooze, you lose, Harry!” Olive grinned as she threw the cap back at him. 

Val watched her friend's playful banter; Croz feigning injury at Olive’s throwing of his hat, while Dougie held her close and nuzzled into her for as long as he could. Behind her, Ev was laughing, his grip on her tight as he held her close and continued to soak up every moment he could on the ground with them. 

“Okay, okay! I’ve got one!” Doug announced, grin wide as he caught Olive’s eye. 

“You have a riddle?” Val raised her brow at him, her fingers fumbling in Ev’s pocket for his lighter as she placed a cigarette between her lips .  

“Yup!”

“Well then, regale us with your riddle, Doug!” She grins, passing the now lit cigarette over to Olive. 

“What's the difference between a hippo, and a–”

“And a zippo?” Ev finished with a laugh. “Dougie, we've heard that one a thousand times now, pal.”

Even though they’ve all heard the joke multiple times, Olive begins to giggle, which makes Doug smile. 

“Yeah, but that’s why I tell it,” he grins. “To see the prettiest smile in East Anglia.”

“I love it,” Olive titters, reaching up to kiss him. “Never stop telling it, okay?”

“I know you do,” he winks, kissing her back just as lovingly. “And I love y–”

“Hey! That a flare?” Croz abruptly ends their sweet moment, his eyes narrowing as he tries to make sense of the blurry green light in the distance that's now plummeting to the ground. 

“Time to go fellas.” Ev commands with a groan, his crew jumping up at his tone. 

He stands, pulling Val with him, and immediately pulls her in and kisses her. They’re vaguely aware of his crew scrambling to get up and into the fort around them, shouts of men and the sound of gear being chucked into the belly of Just A Snappin as he held her for just a moment longer. 

“Come home, please.” Val whispered as they broke for air, foreheads pressed together. 

“Nothing could keep me from you,” he pressed his cheek to hers before his lips pressed to the shell of her ear. “When I get back…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I’ll find us somewhere.”

“I love you, and not just because…” 

“I know. I Love you too,” he pressed his lips to hers once more, her arms tightening around him until she’s sure she could hear his ribs clicking. “Now go, it’s going to get busy down here in a minute. And windy.”

Pulling away, she gave him one final squeeze before she joined Olive at the edge of the hardstand, the pair of them immediately gripping onto each other's hand, watching as Doug, and finally Everett, pulled themselves up and into the fort. It wasn’t until they could see Doug in the nose and Ev in the cockpit that they wavers  before they began to walk back to the Clubmobile. Helen and Tattie were no doubt wondering where they were. 

“You heard that, right?” Olive’s grasp on her hand tightening. “What Dougie said before the flare went up, you heard it?”

“Oh, I heard it, Val giggles, stopping and turning on the spot as the sound of Meatballs’ harness jingles in the distance before he joins them. “He loves you!”

“I didn't think–” Olive fumbles for the leash, grasping it finally and holding on tight. 

“Olive Lewis!” She pulls on her friend's arm, the Brooklyn of her accent really adding an extra umph to Olive’s name. “I will give you a slap.”

“I'm not… I just…” 

“We can all see how much he loves you and how much you love him too!” Val sighs. “You'd have to be blind to not notice it.”

“Are we really that obvious?”  

“Limpido come il giorno.”

“In English, please.” Olive rolls her eyes. 

“It’s as clear as day.” Val winks, continuing on with their walk. 

—————————————————————-

By the time the girls returned to the truck, all the forts had gone up and Thorpe Abbotts was bathed in almost near silence. If you didn’t count Meatball barking as soon as he saw Helen and Tattie sitting outside. Helen is coughing over a cigarette again, while Tattie puffs away unbothered, Olive wasting no time in stomping over to Helen and snatching the cigarette from her. 

“Would you stop!”

“I can’t seem to get the hang of it.” Helen sighs, not even fighting Olive. 

“Then don’t, silly! You’re only making yourself sick!”

Helen is about to reply when the sound of a group approaching behind the Clubmobile get louder, and Rosie and his crew break through the fog, some of the men kidding with each other until they spot the four women. Nash immediately breaks away from his friends to join Helen, the brunette suddenly no longer worries about arguing with Olive over the cigarettes. Rosie stops by the truck, Tattie now inside as she peers down at him, while Pappy has gravitated to Olive, pulling Speas with him. 

“Hiya boys!” Tattie calls down to them, cigarette in hand as she picks up what’s left of the morning’s donuts and brings them to the window. “Last few donuts are yours if you want them!”

“Thanks Tattie.” Rosie smiles up at her, shaking his head as he spots Nash already engaged in deep conversation with Helen. 

Val is in the middle of listening to Pappy go on about how he’s already written to his mother to tell her about his long lost cousin, Olive, when Tattie yells from the window of the Clubmobile with a smile. 

“Hey girls! Whaddya say we name this ole girl,” she pats the side of the truck. “A lot of other Clubmobiles in England are naming their trucks.”

“Yeah? Where’d you hear that, Tat?” Val yelled back. 

“Got a copy of The Sinker,” she clarified, a newsletter that was put together by Red Cross gals for Red Cross gals. “A couple of the other Red Cross girls are naming their trucks, thought we should too!”

“What should we name it?” Helen turned from her conversation with Nash just as Val and Olive walked over to join them, Pappy and Speas right behind. 

“What about something to do with the state you girls are from?” Pappy offered. 

“Pappy, really?” Olive turned to him, arms folded over her chest. “I don’t have a state.”

“Oh, right…”

“Tat? Any suggestions?”

“Hmm, ‘Do-Nut Enter?”

“What about All Things Nice?” Helen offered with a shrug. “We’ve got the sugar on the donuts, Val’s the spice, we’re all things nice!”

“Why thank you Helen!”

“Olive, any ideas?” Helen turned to her just as she moved to give Meatball a little love, the husky whining in protest of Helen’s suggested name, his head lolled to the side as Olive got his favorite spot behind his ears. 

“I got nothing,” she sighed. “My brain is fried.”

“That would be the lack of sleep,” Tattie fixed her with a look and a wink, the woman giving way to the fact that she knew Olive wasn’t sleeping well as of late. “I’ve got my eye on you, English.”

“I’ve got it! Something to do with Meatball!” Val exclaimed, eyes bright as the dog perked back up at the mention of his name. “Yes, you, you silly dog…”

“But what?” Olive looked between them, brows furrowed as she tried to come up with something. 

“What about Spaghetti n’ Meatball!” Val grinned, eyes bright as she turned to survey her friends for their reaction. 

“Oh, that’s precious!” Olive practically squealed, looking between everyone else. “Don’t you all think?” 

“Spaghetti n’ Meatball it is.” Tattie grinned with a soft smile and a shake of her head, Helen readily agreeing with a bright smile. 

They had corralled Kenny and Wink into helping them paint the side of the Clubmobile with the promise of hot coffee and a fresh batch of donuts. Billy and Sammy had followed them back to the truck when they found out that they were going to see Miss Val and Miss Olive, the promise of donuts making the two boys run at the speed of light. They had settled with Meatball almost immediately, the Husky basking in all the extra attention he was getting, while the boys got to work on painting the new name on their Clubmobile. The girls had sent Rosie and Pappy off in search of something that could be used as a ribbon- if we’re going to do it might as well do it right- while Nash had stayed glued to Helen’s side as she cleaned up inside the truck with Val. 

“Miss Val?” she looked down and saw Sammy was looking up at her. Ev liked to tease her that little Sammy had a crush on her. 

“Yes Sammy? How can I help you?” She grinned with a flourish, making sure that she paid him a little extra attention just to see him smile. 

“Could we have another coffee like this morning, please?”

“More coffee, hmm?” She pretended to ponder it, looking around the inside of the truck to see if there was anything left for them, when she spotted a D bar off to the side, and some milk that would end up being tossed if it wasn’t finished. “How about I make you something else? Something better than coffee?”

“There’s something better than coffee?” Billy had joined him, abandoning his post next to Meatball. 

“When I was your age, absolutely!”

“What is it?”

“Hot chocolate,” she winked, picking up the candy bar and waving it in front of her face. “Best thing in the world.”

“COOL!” They shouted, and she knew that they would take anything she made for them, simply because they loved her and the other girls so much. 

So while Val set about warming the milk and making a treat for the boys, both of them dutifully back on either side of Meatball, Kenny came up to the truck. Wiping his hands on his coveralls, he snatched a donut from the tray on the window, popping it in his mouth with enough exaggerated flair that had Val shaking her head. 

“Hey! You didn’t ask Miss Val!” Billy looked up at Ken. 

“That’s alright, me and Miss Olive have an agreement.”

“What do you mean you have an agreement?” Val looked down at him as she ceased breaking apart the candy to mix with the warm milk. “Olive, what does he mean?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she brushed her off. “Just Kenny being Kenny.” 

“Yeah?”

“It’s nothing!”

“Okay, I’m sorry…” 

The topic is quickly dropped as Helen and Tattie come back to the truck trailing what looks like toilet paper, mischief in their eyes, as Rosie and Pappy trailed behind them looking like the accomplices Val was positive they had been. 

“We have a ribbon!”

“We have toilet paper…” Val laughed. 

“It’s the best we could do.” Tattie laughed, her and Helen stretching it from one side of the truck to the other. 

‘I feel like I committed treason…” Pappy shook his head, eyes downcast. 

“I doubt you committed treason, Pappy,” Val laughed, coming out of the truck with the drinks for the boys, just as Chicky approached the Clubmobile. “If anything you got up to no good.”

“Alright girls, who’s twenty-two sheet ration did you take for this?” He drawls, cigar in hand as he gestures to the toilet paper ribbon. 

“Yours, sir,” Tattie grins at him, knowing that he won’t say anything as she gives him a cheeky smile. “On three…”

Tattie gestures for Chicky to “cut the ribbon” on their official ceremony, but just as she gets to three and he reaches to rip the toilet roll, Meatball jumps up from where he’s been sitting and tears into the toilet paper, wrestling the sheets to the ground with a growl. 

“Meatball!” Everyone groans, peals of laughter spilling out into the open as the husky looks terribly pleased with himself. Even Chicky gives the dog a laugh, the moment seeming to be just what they all need after the morning. 

—————————————————

The Officers Club is practically empty, and it sends a chill through Val as she looks around the room. There’s a few men milling about, and the band is only a handful of men tonight, the music low and slow simply to fill the silence. Chicky and Red are off by the bar, the pair of them deep in conversation, as the girls take up their usual spot, Rosie and Pappy, Nash and Speas filling the seats that were usually occupied by Everett and Doug and the rest of their friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Rosie and his boys- quite the opposite as he filled her with this familiarity that only came with home- but she would have preferred that the four new faces filled in the gaps with the faces currently somewhere in Africa. 

On top of all the anxiety and worry, Olive seemed to be on edge and she couldn’t pinpoint why. Granted, Doug being so far away and for more than their usual mission time was contributing to it, as she felt very similar with Everett being gone, but this was something else. This was something she wasn’t saying, and that worried her just as much as the boys being gone. Olive had gone pale before turning to face the boys at their table, the words seeming to confirm to Val that there was in fact, a secret. 

“Fellas, sorry to be a buzzkill but, I need to talk to the girls,” the words are shaky, and if at all possible, Olive turns even paler. “Alone.” “Sure thing, Miss Olive.” Rosie gives her a gentle smile, standing from his seat before gesturing for the other three men to follow him over to the bar. Pappy remains seated, arms crossed over his chest as he smiles at her, looking between Olive and the rest of the girls. 

“You too, Cousin Pappy.” “What? Why!” He protests, and Val can see Olive’s nerves turning into upset. “Because, it’s private.” She starts, gently trying to get him to leave the table. “But, we’re family!” “It’s girl stuff!” The words come out harsh, and Val sees the moment Olive realizes it, a deep sigh leaving the girl as she pinches two fingers at the bridge of her nose. 

“Say no more…” He grimaces, the thought of that alone enough to send him running for the bar and away from the table of women. 

“Okay, are you going to tell us what’s bothering you?” Tattie lights a cigarette but never falters in fixing Olive with that concerned look that seems to come second nature to her. “You’ve been off all day.” “Well, it’s just uhh…” “Is it the mission? The boys being away for longer than usual? I know this is a few days, and the first time you’ve really worried but-” Olive cuts her off with a shake of her head, the curls Val had pinned for her earlier bouncing vigorously “No, it’s not the mission,” she gasps, unable to catch her breath before speaking again. “There’s something–oh, Jesus Christ…” 

“Something, what?” Helen leans across the table, eyes wide. 

“I need to tell you something about me, about my life, and I’m worried - terrified - that you all won’t believe me.” “We’ve heard it all, Ol,” Helen laughs, sipping her cocktail. “Oh, I doubt you’ve heard this, Helen.” “Christ sake!” Val yells, gently kicking Olive’s shin. “Spit it out, English!”

“Right, well,” with a deep breath, she turns to Tattie, giving the woman her full attention. “Tattie, you remember how I, quote, appeared suddenly?” “Yes, out of thin air apparently.” “It’s because I was on the hardstand that day. Because I fell out of a fort.” “What were you doing in a fort, Ol?” Helen places her drink down, her brow softly furrowed in confusion.

The girls watch as Olive takes a deep breath in, her face riddle with fear as the next sentence falls from her lips.

“I was in a fort because that’s how I got here,” she whispered, wringing her hands together. “I’m not from here, from this time.” “W-what?” Val feels the confusion begin to fill her, and something else she can’t quite place bubbling beneath the surface. “What do you mean you’re not…” 

“I’m from the future,” Olive whispers again, her eyes falling to her hands. “I’m from the year two thousand and twenty one.”

“Excuse me?” Val balks, green eyes wide. 

“In my time, I climbed into a model fort because I thought I heard a dog barking for help in there and I fell out, here.” “Olive–” Helen is staring at her in awe, unsure of what else to say, while Tattie simply watches as what appears to be a weight the size of a B-17 falls from Olive’s shoulders. “Does anyone else know?” Val demands, and for the first time, she sees Olive shrink back from her, the worry only growing. “Kenny, and now Benny.” Olive nods, her gaze never leaving her hands. “Before me?!” Val cries, and that something else she had felt bubbling beneath the surface reveals itself to be sadness. “I thought we were friends, Olive.” “We are!” she yells in response as Val stands, tears filling her green eyes, and marches  towards the door. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

She’s vaguely aware of Tattie quietly telling Olive not to follow her as she breeches the door and meets the cool night air. The sounds of the club fall silent as the door shuts behind her and she continues on until she reaches the Red Cross hut. There’s no one to walk her back, and almost no one milling about outside to stop and talk to, which gets her back faster than normal. When she’s inside, the door shut, it dawns on her that for the first time all day, she’s alone. 

“Sorry Meatball…” 

The husky is curled up on her bed, head on his paws as he looks up at her, immediately sensing that something isn’t right with one of his girls. He lets out a whine as she drops down onto the bed to curl up with him, her hands burying themselves in his fur just to stay busy while she tries to stave off the tears she knows are trying to fight their way out. How could Kenny and Benny come before her? Before Dougie, even? And how true was it all really? The future… it didn’t seem possible and yet, something in her gut told her that Olive wasn’t lying about it. It was the part that made the least amount of sense, and should have had her more angry than she was, wanting answers and explanations, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered was that Val had thought for the first time she had a best friend that wasn’t, well, Curtis Biddick. Another girl she could confide her deepest secrets and dreams with, gush over her boyfriend with, but the world  hadn’t seen fit to that. It had been made perfectly clear to her that Olive felt different than she did, if Val hadn’t been privy to one of her secrets, when she had divulged one of her biggest to her not even 48 hours prior. 

“Can I come in?” Olive’s head comes around the door frame, her knuckles gently rapping against the doorframe even as she opens it. .

“It’s a free country.” Val’s tone is sulky, voice muffled as she presses her face into Meatball’s fur. She catches Olive’s hesitation before she decidedly sits on the bed across from hers. 

“I’m sorry,” Olive’s just as quiet as she is. “I wanted to tell you, I just–” “Just what?” Val snaps, sitting up to finally look at her properly, Olive’s eyes filled with tears much like her own. “Decided to tell Kenny and DeMarco before I even got a look in?” “I didn’t tell them, Val. They caught me.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Kenny caught me one night and I couldn’t lie to him,” she sighed. “Truth be told, I’d had one too many that night and didn’t have my wits about me.” “What about DeMarco?” “Meatball gave me away this morning when I was coming back,” Meatball huffs indignantly at the mention of his name in a negative manner, Olive and Val rolling their eyes at him. “Yes, I’m talking about you, silly dog.”

“So you did want to tell me,..”

“More than anything, but I just couldn’t figure out how!”

“So why now all of a sudden,” Val leans over to pull a tissue from her side table, dabbing at her eyes as she continues to seek answers. “Why do this when we’re all so riddled with nerves over this mission?”

“It was getting too risky. There were so many things today that almost gave me up, and I was really starting to feel terrible about lying to everyone.”

“Mhmm…”

“Especially you, Val. You’re my person.”

“I assumed that would be Dougie.” Val’s tone is snarky, but the smile that stretches across her face tells Olive that maybe, just maybe, this is all going to be okay. 

“Romantically, he’s my man. But you…” Olive grins brightly at her. “This shit is for life.”

“Best friends?” Val sounds hopeful, the tears finally dry and she thinks that, yes, she hasn’t lost this sweet part of her life. 

“Forever.” Olive beams, reaching across to the bunk and taking Val’s hand in hers. 

“You know, you’re the first best friend I’ve had that isn’t Curt, and I got scared that maybe it was all too good to be true and you didn’t want to be my friend because I’m too crass or loud, or difficult.”

“Who the hell ever said that about you!” Olive crowed. 

“Olive…”

“Oh Val, what did that man do to you hmm?” 

Olive sighed, knowing that the version of Val they all got on a daily basis was clouded with self conscious fear of being too much as she was once dubbed, by someone she had thought to care about her. 

“I’m sorry for being such a big baby,” she sniffs, shaking her head at her own annoyance. “I just don’t like being left out. And when it came from you, I felt like…well… sad.”

“Does anybody, chicken?” Olive laughs to try and lighten the mood. “Wait, you believe me?”

“Yes, I believe you,” Val nods along with her words, catching Olive’s eyes widened at her confession. “It makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Your hair, nails never done, makeup needing fixing-”

“Yes yes, Helen already ate me up about all that.” 

“Ate you up?” A snort leaves Val, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as Olive giggles at the sound. 

“Chewed me up and spat me right out!”

“Oh that’s excellent, I love it! Not that she, ‘ate you up’, no the expression! I’ll be stealing that, English.”

“I thought you might like that one.”

It’s a quiet, comfortable silence, the hut filled with only the sound of Meatball’s light snores, as the girls take stock of everything that had unfolded in under an hour. The day itself, the anxiety, their boys somewhere terribly far away as they hoped that they had made it safely, and would return safely. Secrets aired and confessions laid bare as friendships were put to the test. Olive and Val both worried if they would be able to see through to the other side, and yet, it seemed nothing could keep the two women from sticking together through dark days and blue skies. 

“Any more secrets you’d like to tell me?” Val squinted at her playfully. “We may as well get it all out in the open now.”

“There’s nothing much to tell, really. Dead dad, abandoned by my mum and raised by Pearl.”

“Oh Ol… me too. The first part.”

“Really?”

“Yes, he passed away when I was very little. I don’t even remember him.”

Was that a blessing, that she didn’t have memories to be twisted painfully? Or was it more painful to not have those memories? She’d never truly be able to decide which side of the coin was easier to deal with. 

“I’m so sorry honey,” Olive sighed, and Val knew exactly how she felt. “It’s not a fun club to be a member of, is it.”

“Club?”

“Yes, the dead dad club. I got my badge when I was thirteen.”

“It was always me, mama and Nonna. And then, Curt and Mama Biddick seemed to just fall into place as part of our family.”

“I only ever had Pearl, after. My mum didn’t take it well at all but then, who would?” Val watches as Olive pulls a dainty gold locket from her shirt, gently opening, keeping the two halves closed, it before looking up at her again. “Would you like to see him?”

“I’d be honored.” Val grinned, coming from her bed to perch next to her friend. 

Val watches closely as Olive carefully opens the locket to reveal a small, heart shaped photo inside. She’s momentarily stunned by the color photo, but her eyes seem to soften as she takes in the image of the man holding a who she already knows is baby Olive. He looks proud, and positively in love with the small girl in his arms, and suddenly, she realizes that neither side of the coin is easier to deal with. Loss with or without knowing, is still loss, and it still stings something fierce. 

“You look just like him, chickie. The same eyes,” she glances up at Olive with a bright smile. “Wow! That’s your dad.” “That’s my dad. My Papa,” Olive breathes on a smile, closing the locket once more and keeping the man inside safe. “He was a sweetheart.” “Do you think he’d approve of Dougie?” “Without a doubt!” She grinned brightly “Both of them have the same silly sense of humor. I’m beginning to think James has a hotline to heaven with those jokes of his.”

“And this? You, here with us?” “I think he would, yes. I think he’d just be happy to see me happy.”

“That’s good…”

“It all scares me silly, Val,” her voice wavered, not unlike the way it had earlier in the club. “He’s gone, and once Pearl goes, I’m all alone.” “That’s twice today you’ve made me want to smack you,” Val scolds, wrapping her arms around her in a hug that takes Olive no time to reciprocate. “You are far from alone, Olive Lewis, who fell out of the sky and into my life. You will always have me, and our little family.” “You’re not  just blowing smoke up my arse?” “Would I ever?” Val raises an eyebrow at her in challenge, and Olive immediately laughs at how silly she looks. 

“Come on,” Olive suggests, pulling Val up off the bed. “We’d better get back.”

“We left Helen and Tat with those boys didn’t we…”

“We did,” Olive laughs. “Besides, I have something to show you.”

She’s digging in her bag when the door to the hut swings open, Helen and Tattie appearing with smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks. It’s Tattie who looks to have indulged just a bit more than she usually does, leaning on Helen as they enter the hut together. 

“What on earth is that thing?” Tattie laughs, pointing at the object Olive had been digging in her purse for. 

“Sorry, we wanted to check on you both.” Helen explains, sitting Tattie down on her bed. 

“Yeah, the conversation with Rosie and the boys was less than riveting after a while. Ha! Riveting! Get it?”

“Oh Tattie…” Val laughs, coming to sit beside her, pulling her into a one armed hug. “Please don’t ever change, okay?”

“Why would I- hey, what’s that in your hand, English?” The words are slightly slurred, and suddenly all eyes are on Olive. 

“What the fuck is that!” Helen exclaims, pointing at the object now sitting in Olive’s open palm. “Olive!”

“This is my proof.” She smiles, hand outstretched so that the other girls could see just what she was holding. 

It’s a thin rectangle, shiny, and Olive seems to be taking great care with it. There’s nothing to give away what it might be, but then Olive slides her finger up the front and it lights up, all three girls screaming as if it might bite them right on the nose. 

“What is it!” Val looks wild eyed and unsure.  “It’s a phone,” Olive explains. “Or as Lemmons likes to call it, a doo-hicke.” 

“But there’s no wire! Or buttons!” Helen exclaims, her total soft nature just a bit more emboldened by the alcohol and the mood. 

“Well, they don’t make them with buttons or wires anymore in the future.”

“No shit!” Tattie laughs. 

“I can’t do much with it here but, I can play some music, and take pictures.” “Pictures on a telephone?” Val shouts, finally standing and grabbing it from Olive in a flurry. “Let me see!”

Olive taps a button, and the screen suddenly changes, and all at once Val is face to face with herself and Olive looking back at her in the small screen.

“Look, it’s us!”

“Oh my god…” Val whispers, turning her head this way and that, the image never faltering, like a mirror. “B-but, how?” “Magic.” Olive replies. 

“Magic…wow!” Tattie smiles from the bed, watching as Olive shows Val the mysterious phone. “Take our picture!” Val demands suddenly. “Shit, alright, calm down there DiRosano.”

Olive holds the phone out in front of her, and quickly snaps a picture, laughing at the shocked look on Val’s face as the end result reveals itself to them. 

“Oh no, that’s terrible and now you wasted film!”

“There’s no film,” Olive grins, showing Val as she clicks what looks like a small trash can and the photo is gone. “It’s… well, technology is complicated.”

“No film?!”

“None. Here, let’s try again.”

“Okay…”

“Smile pretty, like Ev is looking at you.” Olive teases, and just as she suspected, Val falls into a fit of giggles beside her just as she snaps the photo. 

“Well, would you look at that!” Olive proudly shows Val the photo, and her green eyes go wide as she inspects it. 

Side by side, laughing together. Just as Val had hoped their friendship would be. 

“That’s…oh wow! Olive!”

“Right? Pretty cool!”

“Can we try?” Helen pipes up from where she’s perched next to Tattie. 

“Yes, of course!”

And so Olive spends the next hour taking photos of her friends and showing them how to use the camera for themselves. Val is adamant that if everyone on base knew about this, that poor Joe would be out of a job in the officers club each night, but the four girls have sworn to each other not to breathe a word of this to anyone who doesn’t already know. 

“How about some music?”

“Let me guess, there’s a teeny tiny Victorla in there?” Val laughs. 

“No, it’s, again, complicated.” Olive giggles, picking up a spare glass that’s on the vanity and sitting the phone inside of it. 

“A glass?”

“Helps it sound better.”

“Okay then… show us more magic then, English!” 

“Yes ma’am Miss Tattie!” Olive mock salutes as she taps on the screen again. 

It’s unlike anything Val has ever heard, and yet, she can’t find it in herself to stop bouncing around at all the different songs that Olive plays for them. It’s loud, and some of it is a little harsh, but she kind of likes it. 

“You’ll like this singer, Val. Her name is Madonna.”

“Like, La Madonna the Virgin Mary?”

“Yes, like that.”

“Jesus Christ… what an odd name to give your child!”

“It’s not her real name, it’s more of a stage name.”

“Still!”

And then she’s dancing around the hut again, and Olive is singing the words along with the song as she takes her hands and they dance together. Its girlhood at its absolute purest and neither of them can even be bothered to care about how their curls are coming undone and their uniforms are getting wrinkled. They’re simply happy. 

“What do you think Ev will like?” Val asks later, quietly curled up next to Olive on one of the bunks. “I’ll bring some of my dads old vinyls from Pearl’s on my next visit back, and we’ll find out!” Olive grins. 

“Do you think they’re okay?”

“Ev and Doug? Yea, I do…” Olive sighs, giving Val’s hand a squeeze. 

“All of them…”

“Yea, all of them.”

They’re interrupted by a soft snore coming from the other side of the room, Tattie knocked out in her uniform. Helen gently covers her with a blanket, her shoes long since discarded, and with a giggle, holds a finger to her lips to get everyone to shush. 

“She’s on to something,” Olive yawns. “I’m knackered.” “Nah-kurred!” Both Val and Helen tease quietly, Val poking Olive softly on the nose.

“Oh leave it, Yanks!” “Oooh, she’s getting bold!” “Yes, now that I know we’re all four of us stuck together forever, I can be myself.” “Good,” Val says, planting a kiss on her cheek as she stands up and moves to her own bunk. “I don’t want to see anymore funny business from you.”

“Ma’am yes ma’am!” Olive gives her a sloppy two finger salute, much the same way that Doug always does. 

“You look like Dougie when you do that.” Helen giggled, her pajamas now on as she shuffles beneath her blankets. 

“Off to dream of Jimmy Stewart again, Hel?”

“Yes,” she yawns. “Maybe this time Val won’t wake me before I get my big kiss.”

“I’ll do my best.” 

Val gets into her own pajamas just as Olive does the same, leaving a soft kiss to the dog tag that bears Everett’s name before taking her rosary into her hands and saying a quick prayer before bed. Just before she turns the lights out, she catches Olive pulling Dougie’s jacket from the end of the bed and put it on over her sleep clothes. She watches as the sweet English girl who fell from the sky presses her nose into the collar. Depositing her rosary, Val picks up the phone carefully and, following Olive’s earlier instructions, takes a quick photo of her curled into James Douglass’ jacket before switching the lights off. 

“I love you, DiRosano” Olive whispers, sleep slurring her words. “Love you more, English.” Val grins. 

Silently, she says goodnight to Everett, hoping her words and her prayers reach him safely in Africa. That he returns home soon, with his crew and their friends intact. That Curt had kept his promise of not doing anything stupid, and that they’d all be together soon. There was a lot to catch up on. 

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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[wexhappyxfew]

one after the next

(a/n): first vivian x blakely piece! first vivian x blakely piece!!!! screaming crying losing my mind. THEM! really can't get enough of this piece and just how perfectly they sort of slot into each other's lives in this moment in time. you'll see what i mean.....just, THEM. vivian ratcliff deserves all the love and hugs there is in this world! certified that carrie achterberg is also chaotic af! <3 (also peep the bucky and dougie cameos here lmao)

"I shot down at least 3," Vivian said firmly, removing her cigarette from her lip, "right when they were hitting us at the beginning."

"Yeah," Kennedy chimed in, "saw it with my own eyes. Looked like they were trying to target one side of the plane. Over and over, Lieutenant. Ratcliff handled her own though, but it was pretty persistent." Vivian watched as the interrogator made a few notes before looking to Lieutenant Bradshaw again.

"And you can confirm all the information you've spoken now at this table is to the truth?" he asked her, and Lieutenant Bradshaw nodded firmly.

"Yes, sir." she said. The interrogator nodded, making a few more notes on his pad of paper before looking about the group, giving a curt nod and standing to his feet.

"Alrighty then, you ladies are all set." he said, reaching forward to shake Lieutenant Bradshaw's hand, to which she stood and firmly shook the Lieutenant's hand.

"Thank you, sir." Lieutenant Bradshaw said with a slight smile. The interrogator nodded to her before looking to the rest of the group, giving a firm nod before disappearing out the door to Operations. A few other tables were still in their own sessions it seemed, but for the moment, Vivian could feel the tension in her shoulders slowly dissipate as she took a long drag of her cigarette and sighed.

"I swear to fucking God," Carrie said from beside her, looking to the group, "they were targeting Viv's side the entire time."

"Not entirely," Vivian offered, leaning forward, "Kenny took some shots from her side, too. Clean and clear cut."

"I know," Carrie said quietly, before placing her cigarette back on her lip with a sigh, "I just get tired of when they start coming in sideways. Nailing the shit outta you before going for Jude, it's bullshit, swear to God."

"You need another drink." Lieutenant Montez offered from beside Lieutenant Bradshaw, nodding to the already finished shot glass in front of Carrie.

"Damn right, Monty," Carrie said, "thought one of those things was gonna come through the front of the plane, give Bes and I a real wake up call, huh?"

"Yeah!" Bessie said leaning forward and looking to Carrie, "You shoulda seen the one, a few more inches and that bombsight would've been in the subpens." A few chuckles rang out around the group as Vivian continued to sit, listening to the quiet chatter of the group.

Usually after missions, it was always like this. Something Captain Faulkner used to do for the crew - to let off some steam, shoot the shit with your crew about whatever the hell you had just witnessed, dropping the formalities without a Captain breathing down your neck, and a few cigarettes and shots to go around.

Vivian slowly looked around the room, looking to a few other tables, noticing Major Cleven's crew talking still, along with Captain Blakely and Major Egan's crew. There was something about still seeing those planes return that kept her mind at bay.

"You all really need to experience this sorta stuff from a ball turret," Judy said with a chuckle, "every time, I swear one of those planes is gonna sweep the bottom of Silver Bullets, clean me out and send me flying."

"Ain't no way none of us are letting that happen, Jude," Carrie called, placing her cigarette on her lip, standing to her feet and imitating shooting a gun, "I'd bring my gun up, BOOM, BOOM, that sucker would be dead."

"Damn, Bergie, you shoulda been at Hollywood!" Margie called with a chuckle, a joking tone to her voice, "The hell you doing here?" Carrie smirked and took a bow.

"To beat up some Nazi shit, that's what." Carrie said, settling again into her seat as the group chuckled at her words, "If I'm ever face to face with one of 'em, Ich werde ihre Köpfe haben-"

"Come again?" Marianne offered from beside Carrie, "I'll take it as whatever you said, it ain't pretty-"

"You can bet your bottom dollar on that, Mari," Carrie said, "I'd have their fucking heads." Vivian watched as Lieutenant Bradshaw smirked quietly.

Lieutenant Bradshaw was always noticeably quiet after interrogation - like she was coming down from it all, taking the time to digest everything, come to terms with it. She always looked different in this light. Vivian watched as Lieutenant Bradshaw took a quick cigarette drag before looking up behind Vivian.

"Captain Blakely." Lieutenant Bradshaw said, causing heads to turn, voices to silence and cigarettes to return to lips. Vivian slowly looked up and over her shoulder and found him coming to stand right behind her, slowly removing a cigarette from his lips, the smoke swirling upwards above, and behind him.

Ev Blakely looked noticeably worn, sweat and grease glistening on his forehead, his tired eyes moving around the group, as he approached, a small smile riding his face.

"Lieutenant," Captain Blakely said, giving a quick salute towards Lieutenant Bradshaw and the rest of the group as he approached, "you all alright? Saw you take that hit back when we were over IP."

"Just fine, sir." Lieutenant Bradshaw answered for the group, a small smile growing on her face, "we were just listening to Lieutenant Achterberg recount what she'd do if she ever had the rather opportune chance to engage with one of those German fighters."

"Oh yeah?" Captain Blakely said, turning to look at Carrie, a small smirk on his face as he took a drag of his cigarette, "Mine as well show it, looks like they're starting to target different elements of the wing every time we go out now."

"That's what I'm saying, sir." Carrie called valiantly from her chair, as she settled into it again.

"We figured it had to do with our first engine going out early on, followed by the third," Lieutenant Bradshaw said, "smoke trails and all. Easy target."

"Sounds about right if my track record keeps up." he said, his eyes moving around the group again, steadying for a moment on Vivian's to which he offered her a slight pinprick of a smile. She usually was fairly stoic in times like these, at the interrogation table, on the plane, letting those bullets rip.

But, she found herself smiling back as he went and looked at their pilot.

"Left side though," Lieutenant Bradshaw started, letting out a low whistle, "took quite the beating. Lost two engines, then began to lose the third, sir. Poor Ratcliff had to jerry-rig her .50 cal up just to shoot the thing." Blakely turned to look at Vivian with a raised brow.

Vivian was born into the mechanics of life it seemed - she practically grew up learning all there was to fix and figure out any sort of issue that required fixing with metal.

"It's true, sir," Vivian said with a nod, "the JU-88s got a hit on the left gun, took her out almost immediately. Spent 3 minutes getting it back working, greased her up and got her working again. They were hitting that side whenever they could afterwards."

"Damn," Blakely said quietly, eyes meeting her own, "they didn't get you anywhere did they?"

"Just under the eye." Vivian said, pointing to the scabbed spot underneath her right eye, "Caught me just above the mask. Thought Kennedy was gonna blow a gasket by the time we landed."

"Farley? Blowing a gasket?" Major Egan's voice chimed in as he came sauntering up to Captain Blakely's side, "Would of never guessed." The table let out a ring of chuckles as Kennedy narrowed her eyes.

"You were asking for it the one time, sir." she offered to him, that familiar joking tone to her voice as Major Egan chuckled, patting a hand on Captain Blakely's shoulder.

"Alright, maybe I was." Major Egan said, before addressing the group, "Saw you ladies take a few hits out there."

"That's what we were just telling Captain Blakely, sir," Judy piped up from her spot, calmly rebraiding her hair as she looked up at him, "especially our Viv." Major Egan looked to Vivian this time, with a rather surprised look on his face, and Vivian caught the spare glance Captain Blakely seemed to send her as well.

"After I got my .50 cal working again, sir," Vivian started, "I let 'em have it. Silver bullets and all." Major Egan chuckled.

"Knew I was always a Viv Ratcliff fan," he said, "gotta let those Krauts have it when they beg for it, ya know?"

"That's what I'm saying." James Douglass chimed in from somewhere near the other table, picking up his crusher cap and wading over, "Swear to God, anymore ricochets into the side of the nose, I was gonna let them have it. Open up, just go in, guns' a'blazin'."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Carrie called from her spot at the table, removing the cigarette to point at him, "I swear to God, Dougie, it looked like one was coming for you at one point, came twirlin' outta the sky. Acting dead, still shootin'."

"You saw that, too?" Dougie said, before looking over at Blakely and Egan, "I told you two. The thing was coming straight for us."

"You still got it shot down though, Doug." Egan said with a smirk, slapping Dougie's back, "Before we could even get eyes on it."

"That's because someone was spending too much time telling a joke rather than paying attention to that fucker flying at me." Dougie offered with a chuckle, a few of the girls at the table snickering at his words.

"Alright," Blakely said, stepping forward, "let's all get outta here. Missions done anyway. Get ourselves at least a meal, or better yet, a drink."

"Don't gotta tell me twice, sir!" Carrie said, standing from her seat, others beginning to follow.

"Ev Blakely knows a thing or two about a drink, huh?" Egan said, pointing at Carrie with a smirk as she blew out a drag of smoke.

"That and how to dance, that's all I gotta say." Carrie said as she came around the table. Vivian laughed quietly to herself, staring forward at the center of the table, watching as Lieutenant Bradshaw began to clean up some of the notes, some of the model planes that were scattered about the center.

"Hey, Vivi." Vivian looked up, feeling Blakely's hand on her shoulder, and met his gaze, his big eyes watching hers softly, "You okay?" Vivian hoped she hadn't looked distracted, or dazed out. A quick smile fell onto her face.

"Yeah." she said, her tone light, her smile bright, "You?"

It was always like this since Jimmy had passed, since she'd gotten the letter from the Navy, telling her that he had been KIA. The thought kept her up most nights, sometimes to the point where she'd cry and cry and cry until she fell asleep, silent as a judge. Keeping it to herself - this pain, this grief.

Annie Bradshaw kept her tabs well.

And she usually was checking on Vivian daily - but so was Ev Blakely.

"Glad to be on solid ground again." he said, his tone that quiet hum he seemed to use when it was just the two of them. Slowly, Blakely sat down in the chair that Margie had previously occupied and looked towards her, putting on another soft grin again, Lieutenant Bradshaw sending her a look before disappearing with the maps.

"How're you doing? Truly, Vivi." he asked her, hands braided together as they draped over his knees. Vivian watched him, her right hand which was rested up on the table, slowly closing into a fist.

"I'm okay." she said with a nod - she refused to beat around the bush with him, or anyone really, "Just…focusing on each mission. One after the next." She nodded and watched him.

Blakely was typically the one to see through that she found. The walls she'd put up, the words she'd put out there so the others didn't have to worry. She hated the thought of the others having to worry that she'd lose her mind or go crazy from spiraling emotions. She hated that she constantly considered those options. Blakely tilted his head to the side and nodded back.

"One after the next." he said, continuing to watch her in a quiet manner. A small smile crept onto her lips as she looked down to his hands instead.

"Bergie was getting pretty passionate." Blakely commented, his voice low, but gentle - this is how it usually was. They got quiet - she enjoyed sitting in the silence with him - and then they'd talk about the mission. And sometimes, she'd bring up home. Or Jimmy. And he'd sit and listen; big, brown eyes and all.

"You shoulda heard her when we were up there." Vivian said quietly, watching Blakely beginning to light up a cigarette - they did this, too. Shared a cigarette. Blakely laughed lowly, somewhere under his breath and put the cigarette on his lip.

"She's laser-focused up there, quiet, does what she needs to. But sometimes - I swear to God, it's like the Germans egg her on. She thinks she's clicked off of comms." Vivian said, as Blakely leaned forward and handed her the cigarette, blowing some smoke from his lips. She placed it on her lip, taking a deep drag before sighing.

"She's lucky she's got Annie Bradshaw." Vivian said with a chuckle and Blakely smirked at her as she shook her head, "She lets a curse slip here and there." Blakely chuckled and took back the cigarette as she leaned forward to pass it back.

"You should hear Major Egan," Blakely said, his eyes continuing to observe her in this moment, "whole bird's shaking like its about to explode and he's yelling, cursing. Usually just smack his shoulder, he gets his wits back."

Vivian found a laugh escaping from her lips at the thought of Major Egan doing such. Which wouldn't surprise her. She'd seen him in many lights - in the morning, on alcohol, late in the night, and both before and after a mission. She wouldn't be surprised.

Blakely leaned forward with the cigarette and she took it from him and grew quiet again, letting her left hand rest against her knee for a moment, fingers tapping the torn bit of her uniform at the knee she'd gotten. Kraut prop blast into her side, which had sent her onto the floor. Scrapped up knee, dried blood. Just like a kid again. Except it wasn't.

"How's Monty?" Blakely asked her. It'd been over 2 and 1/2 months since losing Birdie - that's all life seemed to be.

Losing, losing, lost.

Lost, losing, losing.

"She's okay," Vivian said with a small smile, bringing the cigarette to her lip, taking a drag before blowing it out and passing it back to him, "big Annie Bradshaw fan. Just like the rest of us." Vivian bit her lip. "I see her at night though, just looking at the sky sometimes. Like she's reliving it." Blakely was quiet, the cigarette in his hand, which was now rested on his own knee.

"It was the loss of her life, I feel." Vivian whispered, meeting Blakely's eyes again.

They both grew quiet again - Vivian remembered it all like a distant memory. One you tried to shove away, and one you tried to forget. She remembered the sound through her headset, the sound of Captain Faulkner dying, and then - gone. She remembered what Lieutenant Montez had said - I'm manning the plane now. She remembered it all. Blakely passed the cigarette back to her, which she took gratefully and then sighed, taking a drag. Blowing smoke.

"I must admit, Ev," she said, handing back the cigarette, a small smile on her lips, "I think you have more important matters than sitting here with me." Blakely grinned at her, placing the cigarette on his lip.

"Nah," he said, voice quiet as he shook his head, reaching up a hand to run back over his wet curls on his head, clinging to his sweaty forehead, "the drinks can wait." Vivian smiled.

For a second, it was completely silent in the interrogation hut, save for the sound of voices just outside, the bustle of unpacking from a mission, the rumble of jeeps and trucks, along with the clang of metal in the far-off distance.

Vivian always found herself observing him, trying to get inside his head - why he would sit with her after missions, watch her so gently, listening with the greatest intent. Offering a cigarette and a drink. He always would seem so much more relaxed, laid back, his eyes all soft the way they usually went, his body looking worn and tired. He continued to watch her back, as they passed the cigarette between them until it was basically a dud. And by the time she'd taken the last bit of what she could from it, he was watching her in a wistful manner.

"I got a letter from my Ma last night," Vivian said, looking to him this time uncertainly, and watching as his eyes grew serious, leaning forward in earnest, "nothing bad just. With everything that's happened. Knowing how she's feeling. With me here. And that I can't change that." Vivian felt her shoulders drop as she sighed.

She'd always been close with her parents and her brother, even when she was younger, a more emotional and radical teen, than now - 25, a good head on her shoulders, a smile on her face. And her mother had always been protective of her only daughter, now over an entire ocean and in a new country, having lost the man she was planning on marrying.

Now having to navigate that level of loss by herself.

Of course, the distractions of war and having a crew like the Silver Bullets made this new reality not as scary. But sometimes all she wanted was to curl up next to her mother, have her mother's warmth and hugs, and cry her heart out to her. Vivian felt herself focus again and quickly looked to Blakely, who was still sat there, watching quietly. She smiled quickly.

"It's okay though," Vivian said firmly with a nod, "I told her I was okay. It'll be okay." Blakely held her gaze - and it looked as if he was going to say something, say something more than whatever his eyes were currently saying. But he didn't. And he didn't need to.

"And are you okay?" he said, watching her eyes shift away from his and down to her twtichy hand. Vivian leaned her head up against her hand on the table and nodded.

"I think I'm just tired." she said, ignoring the way her voice caught a bit, "I think some coffee could change that." Blakely watched her for a moment before chuckling at her words and nodding.

"Well, you're in luck then, Vivi, I know just the place." he said, a smirk growing on his lips, "Ever heard of this little place called Thorpe Abbotts chow hall?" Vivian laughed.

"No," she said as she stood, him following her movements, "you'll have to introduce me." Standing in front of him, looking up at him, she could see the worried look in his eye that had learned to live in his gaze ever since she had told him she'd lost Jimmy. Ever since she'd broken that news.

"Entrusting me, huh?" he asked her, his voice filled with a warmth that made her smile grow even more, "I'm honored, Vivi, really."

"Don't get ahead of yourself now, Ev," she said as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders, the two slowly walking towards the exit, "it is the place that I have quite literally had every meal since being here." Blakely chuckled and pushed the door open, letting her step outside first before he followed, resuming wrapping an arm over her shoulders as they continued to walk outside now, the sweet, summer breeze ruffling their hair, removing the musk of the interrogation room, the entire feel of sitting in that room recounting death.

"You better drink some coffee, too, okay?" Vivian said, looking up at him, taking in the side of his face, his tired eyes, "Waking up at 0300 isn't for everyone."

"Says the morning person." Blakely said with a laugh, "Remember the time I saw you on your run?" Vivian let out a barking laugh, slapping her hand over her mouth as she looked at him.

"Oh God," she said, her eyes shining, "I felt so bad, Ev." Blakely bashfully looked down, before looking towards her again with a smirk.

"You caught me at the wrong time."

"And that's when I discovered you in fact were not a morning person." she offered back, before smiling, "You still clean up well though." Blakely smirked at her words.

"Guilty as charged, Vivi." he said with a grin.

"Smartass." she murmured and he let out a laugh, squeezing her to his side for a moment, "Hey, what are you up to tonight?" Blakely glanced down at her and then shrugged.

"Was considering the flying club. Maybe a drink or two," he said, watching her with a tender look, "or whatever you have in mind."

"No, no," she said with a laugh, "some of the girls, they'd considered going to one of the local pubs. Figured I'd invite you and the rest of your crew along."

"Say less," Blakely said with a smile, "I'll open the tab. Buy you ladies some drinks."

"You don't have to, Ev," she said with a shy smile, "you always do."

"Nah, nah, my treat." he said. Vivian smiled.

"I'll let you win in darts then," Vivian said, looking up at him with glowing eyes, "my treat." Blakely let out a laugh, looking down at her with a soft gaze and a wide grin.

"Smartass." he murmured. Safe to say, she didn't think about anything else for the rest of the day except coffee and then drinks and darts tonight.

One after the next.

[winniemaywebber]

Honeysuckle Rose - Part 9

read previous parts here.

It's time for the truth to come out, no matter what the cost. With friendship on the line, will Olive finally find it within herself to be truly honest?

Brakes screeching, cars colliding in the pouring rain. The smell of burning oil. An abrupt pain in the chest, a girl struggling to breathe. A man slumped on her, ailing gasps leaving his mouth as his life slipped away…

“No!” Olive yells, awakening herself with a cry. Feeling a heat rise in her chest, she tries to steady herself and breathe, gripping fistfuls of the blanket she'd been sleeping under. The soft snores of her best friend, Valencia DiRosano, in the bed opposite her own begin to settle her, Olive keeping in time with the hum of Val's breathing. 

Counting her lucky stars that her sudden yelp didn't awaken Val, she wipes the sheen of sweat from her face with her nightgown as she sits up, beginning to pad across to the bathroom. 

As she washes her face, Olive begins to count on her soapy fingers and tries to calculate how many days she'd been here without going to check on Pearl. Was it three? No, more. Four or five? A week? Surely not. Olive shakes her head at herself in the mirror in front of her, toothbrush in her mouth. She sees the tiredness etched on her face, her eyes beginning to look withdrawn. Something had to give, and soon. 

Rushing out the door, she's surprised to see a thick fog upon the air today. So thick, in fact, that she's unable to see much in her trajectory, walking to the hardstand by memory alone. It's when she bumps her shoulder on the wing of Just A-Snappin that she hears a loud bark in the distance, a gruff voice following it.

“Who is it, fella? Someone else out with us this early?”

“Shit,” Olive breathes, recognizing the voice as her friend Benny Demarco's. 

“Go get her then, buddy, go say good morning!”

Running up the stairs at a startling speed, Olive slams the door of the aircraft shut, hoping she wasn’t spotted after all.

***

The sun shines almost too brightly on Olive as she makes the walk to Pearl’s, quietly swinging open the metal gate and ridiculously shushing it as it squeaks, the scraping noise making her cringe. It’s when she reaches the door that she feels something untoward, the energy from outside seeming different than usual. Making her way in, pushing on the warped wooden door as she unlocks it, she is surprised to find Pearl alone in the kitchen, staring at the kettle and willing for it to boil faster. 

Olive accidentally shocks her Grandmother, making her presence known a lot more prematurely than planned when her keys clatter on the dining table.

“Christ alive!” Pearl yells, dramatically clutching her chest. “You little devil!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” she laughs, holding her hands up in apology and mock surrender. “That wasn’t meant to be so loud.”

“Just like your bloody father,” she teases. “The expression ‘bull in a china shop’ comes to mind.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t know where we get it,” she replies, as Pearl clatters around with the sugar tin and stirs her now prepared tea with a spoon, clanging it on the mug with each clockwise spin. “You’re awake early, Grandma.”

“God forbid I want some alone time,” she winks, sipping at the beverage. “Between you coming in and out and Joan hovering, I barely get any time to myself in this place.”

“Hey, we can back off,” Olive cackles, taking the glass bottle of milk from the counter and putting it to her lips.

“I don’t think so, lady,” Pearl scolds, eyebrows raised. “Get a glass.”

“Yes, Grandma,” she sighs, leaning up on her tiptoes to retrieve her favorite one - Tots TV, a show from her childhood. Pearl spots it and smiles, her eyes softening with the nostalgia of remembering this young woman in front of her as a toddler, squeezed in the armchair with her as they both dozed, the sounds of the gentle theme song somehow lulling them both to sleep. 

“You know I’m only kidding, right, Ollie Pop?”

“About what?”

“The alone time, Joan hovering…”

“No, pal, I know. I’d feel quite the same to be honest.”

“I just miss my independence, y’know. Just being able to do little things myself. I seem to be getting stronger each day, though. Look, I even made my own tea!”

“I know. I’m proud of you,” Olive begins, emotion threatening to get the better of her. “You’ve come a long way. Soon enough, you’ll be back to your old self, up to your old tricks. Beating all the other ladies at bingo and seeing them bubble with anger over it.”

Her eyes narrow, a titter leaving her lips. “They know they’ve all got it coming, especially that Doreen. Cheating old hag.”

“Pearl!” Olive snorts, milk almost streaming from her nostrils. “At least you kept your humor.”

“At least there’s that, hm?” 

Pearl reaches over and grips her granddaughter’s hand, staring into her eyes for just a moment. 

“I like the outfit,” she says as Olive looks down at herself. Her eyes widen a little, realizing that she’d gotten dressed on autopilot: blue jumpsuit, boots, button down underneath. “Something for work?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Olive stutters, shaking her head at the inner voice picking at her brain, bullying her to tell the truth. “Something like that.”

“I don’t usually go for re-enactment stuff, Ol, but I must say, they’re keeping very accurate.”

“How so?”

“Well, putting British girls in Red Cross uniforms. I don’t know how they managed it, but when I was over at the base, doing my work as a Land Girl, the lovely American girls acquired one more lass. It’s as if she appeared out nowhere; a British girl, but she fit right in. I don’t know how they got to keep her on because I heard the requirements were crazy!”

“Haha,” Olive forces out, keeping her eyes on the table. She hopes that, by avoiding eye contact, she won’t be able to give anything away. Nevertheless, Pearl carries on.

“She had a lovely boyfriend. He was gorgeous, had these beautiful blue eyes. She was always laughing at everything he said.”

“Obviously a funny guy, Pearly,” Olive giggles, the thought of every silly joke of Dougie’s coming to mind.

“Must’ve been,” she nods. “But I had my eye on someone else, you see.”

“Who?” Olive urges, keen to be reminded. She rests her elbow on the table, her cheek resting on her hand. “Tell me, tell me!”

“I don’t remember his name, but I’m sure I’ve mentioned him before. He was so handsome. He and his dog would cause such chaos.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Olive mumbles, clearing her throat. “You never thought to ask him for a dance?”

“He asked me out for a drink, but it never happened. I was moving away by the time I could say yes, and I never remembered his name to send him a letter to apologize. Poor boy probably thinks I stood him up!”

“Yeah,” Olive laughs weakly. She stands, walking over to Pearl and plants a kiss on her cheek. 

“What’s that for?”

“Just love your little stories, girly. You should write them all down for me.”

“I actually–”

The pair are distracted by the door swinging open, the wind seeming to try to take it off its hinges as it slams against the wall. 

“And you thought I was loud,” Olive gestures, shaking her head. “Hi, Joan.”

“Ah, this is a surprise.”

“Not really, Joan. I do live here.”

“You know what I mean, Olive,” she sighs, patting Pearl on the shoulder. “Thanks for getting her up.”

“No need, she did that all by herself. Made a tea and everything.”

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not in the bloody room,” she interjects, exasperated. “Yes, Joan, I got out of my own bed and made my own tea. Like a regular person should.”

“I’m glad,” Joan says, her shoulders falling a little with relief. “Fancy going into town and having a look around the shops? Lunch, too? My treat.”

“That’ll be lovely,” Pearl smiles, nodding along at her suggestion. “Change of scenery and some fresh air will do me good.”

Joan turns to Olive before going to pour her own cup of tea. “You’re welcome to join us, of course, Olive.”

“Thanks, Joan, but I’m gonna clean up around here a little. My bedroom is a sty and it needs a good tidy. You two have fun, though!”

“You need anything bringing back, kiddo?”

“Nah, Pearly. I’m all set.”

***

After showering - Olive willing to never take a power shower for granted ever again - and throwing on her comfiest clothes while her jumpsuit was in the washing machine, she began to tidy. She began at her bookshelf, placing her precious books straight before becoming easily distracted, thumbing through well worn copies of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Hamlet and Much Ado About Nothing. Fishing for a backpack from under her bed, she stuffs each book in with care, glad to find something to occupy her mind when there was no work to be done on mission days.

It’s when she’s dusting the shelves that something falls from a height. A sparkling gold catches her eye from the floor, Olive holding her breath in both disbelief and anticipation as she bends down to pick it up. She holds the locket in her hands for the first time in years, turning it over in her hands thrice before opening it up.

“Hello,” she speaks softly, keeping the words for the man in the picture. “Where’ve you been hiding?” 

Olive holds the heart shaped pendant in her hand a few moments more, taking in the features and expressions of her father, Oscar. There he was, smiling so gleefully that he was blushing, his cheeks a delightful shade of pink as he holds a small baby close to him. Baby Olive, a few weeks old, is looking at her father with awe, the same expression she carried on her face for the rest of his life whenever he was around. Her heart pounds unpleasantly as her mind reruns her dream from this morning; the crash, the car buckling all around them. Oscar slumping on his daughter as he took his final breath…

Olive snaps the locket closed at the memory, willing her brain to muster up better ones they shared. She places the chain around her neck and clasps it at the back, hoping that by wearing it, by keeping him close again, the bad memories can be saturated. 

***

Olive pulls out a sheet of paper and grabs a pen, intending to write Pearl and Joan a letter to explain her absence from the house when the door opens, the pair of them traipsing in with a shiver. 

“It’s cold out there, Ollie Pop,” Pearl shudders, nodding her head towards Olive’s coat that’s upon the hook as she looks at the jumpsuit she is wearing. “Wear something more than that if you’re heading out.”

“I was just about to write down that I was off again. Are you sure you don’t need me?”

“Absolutely sure,” Joan responds, closing the door behind her out of habit despite Olive saying she was about to leave. “Your grandma is right though, it’s bloody freezing. That wind has got a bite to it.”

“Turned quickly,” Olive observes, pulling on the mentioned jacket. “It was sunny when I got here.”

“Wasn’t it? Good old temperamental British weather, hm?”

“Got that right. Well, I’m off,” Olive announces, pecking Pearl on the cheek and giving her a quick squeeze.

“Don’t get lost!”

“Me? Never.”

***

There had been some ungraceful descents from the fort over the few weeks of going back and forth between the years, but today’s was about to go on record as the worst. Assuming that Kenny, Wink or one of the ground crew, had seen fit to leave the stairs exactly where they had been earlier this morning, Olive sticks one foot out of the door, only to be surprisingly greeted with air beneath her feet. Before she can register what’s happening, she steps down, sending herself flying through the air to the ground with a yelp.

“Fuck me,” she cries, once again finding herself winded on the hardstand of Thorpe Abbotts. Slowly gaining her breath back, she sits up, only to be greeted by a rowdy husky who is intent on giving one of his favorite girls a good morning kiss as a hello.

“Dang dog,” she giggles, scritching the space between his ears. “Morning.”

“Olive! Knew it was you,” Benny says, making his presence known by coming out of the fog. “What the hell are you doing all the way out here this early? Lemmons isn’t hankering for a donut that bad is he?”

“No, errm, no, no, he isn’t,” Olive winces, her voice raising a few octaves as she bites through another set of lies today. She sighs, standing up and brushing herself off. “I was just coming back from–”

His face is suddenly serious, the most solemn she’s ever seen him. “What are you doing out here, Ol?”

“Well, I–it’s just…” she stutters, her mouth filling with saliva as she talks. “I’m–ugh, Benny, I can’t lie to you.”

He crosses his arms, ready for an answer. He shakes his head, his eyebrows raised in an agitated manner. “Well?”

“Remember how I fell at your feet a few weeks ago?”

“Uh-huh…”

“And how it’s like I just appeared out of nowhere? Thin air?”

“Get to the point, Ol.”

“Jeez, okay,” she snides back, wincing in preparation for his reaction. “I’m from the future.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m from the future,” she repeats, seeing Benny’s arms uncross and his face go back to its usual kind expression. “I’m from the year 2021.”

“Hold on,” he says, the palm of his hand now resting on his forehead. “But how–”

“Dunno, bud. I clambered into this thing in my time and ended up here, in 1943. Fighting this war with you all.”

“I just–who else knows?”

“Kenny, Wink, and now you.”

“Val?”

“Not yet, Benny. I haven’t found the right time, or the right way to explain it. I mean, listen to me. It’s insane!”

“Got that right,” he exhales, puffing his cheeks. “Kenny found out before me? Before Dougie? Before Val?!”

“Listen, Kenny caught me the other night and I can’t lie very well, as you’ve just beared witness to. What else was I supposed to do when he caught me clambering up the stairs of a B-17?”

“Look, I can understand you not telling me, Dougie and Ev just yet. But Val? I’m surprised at you, Olive.”

“Yeah,” she squeaks, her throat closing around a lump within it. “Because, like, what if they don’t believe me, hm? What then?”

“I believe you,” Benny says, his voice soft on the cool morning breeze. “You’re my baby sis. I believe you. I’ll back you up, Ol.”

“You will?”

“Always! It’s fucking nuts,” he laughs, shaking his head and shrugging. “But I believe you.”

“How do you believe me so easily? And with no questions?”

“I don't know. I just feel like you of all people wouldn't lie to me.” He pauses for a second. “Also, pretty wild thing to lie about, huh?”

She laughs, the sound crawling up from her belly.

“Right? Anyway, baby sis is actually quite literal now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he laughs again. “What year were you born?”

“1997.”

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, running a hand through his hair. Looking a little less stressed, he finds her hand and grips it. “Something tells me you were always meant to be here, pal.”

“You know what, I think so, too. Meatball wouldn’t have led me here otherwise.”

He nods, petting the dog at his feet. “You want me to walk you home?”

“Please,” she agrees, linking her arm through his. “I’m knackered.”

“Nah-kurred,” Benny mocks, keeping Olive close so they don’t lose one another in the thick fog that hasn’t budged since they woke up this morning.

“Don’t take the piss, Bernard. I’ll spit in your eye.”

“There it is. I see learning from Val is going well.”

***

Benny pulls her into a comforting embrace upon escorting her back to the Red Cross hut, opening the door for her as gently as he can while trying - and failing -  to keep Meatball quiet so as to not wake the other girls. 

“Shut your pie hole, pal,” he whispers, his teeth gritted. “Yes, yes, it is breakfast time. You think I don’t know that? Maybe put your friends before your stomach just this once.” 

As Benny talks, Meatball’s head tilts this way and that as if he is truly listening and understanding every word. Both Olive and Benny see the dog’s ears prick up just once during their exchange: when the word ‘breakfast’ was mentioned. 

“Heard your belly rumble, too, Demarco,” Olive observes, the subtle sound ceasing as he lets out a sigh. 

“I am. But I’m not crazy about those eggs, Ol.”

“No shit, buddy. Be patient; East Anglia’s finest donuts, coming right up.”

“Can’t wait,” he says, beginning to walk away. “C’mon, Meatball, let’s go.”

Seeing him and the mutt disappear back into the fog, Olive creeps through the door that Benny had opened for her, hoping that both Val and Helen were still snoozing. Much to her relief, they are, Valencia still snoring the same way she was when Olive left, and Helen, wrapped up in her blanket like a caterpillar waiting to emerge from its chrysalis. 

Olive slings the bag off her shoulder and places it on her bunk before sitting down, pulling the dog-eared copies of the books she retrieved from her bedroom at Pearl’s out of the bag. She begins thumbing through them once again, grabbing a stray pencil and begins to annotate, already keen to present Brady’s girl, Jules, with another analysis in the coming weeks. It’s a line in Hamlet that catches her eye, quickly underlining it before snapping the book shut as Valencia begins to stir.

‘This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day…Thou canst not then be false to any man.’

“Morning, chickie,” Val yawns, stretching her arms above her head with a groan before standing up and making her way to the washroom, rubbing at her eyes as she goes. On her way, she shakes Helen awake, a pained moan coming from the cocoon she’s created herself. 

“Not yet,” she whines, nuzzling back into her pillow. “I was just about to have my big kissing moment with Jimmy Stewart.”

“Well, you can resume that at bedtime,” Val shouts behind her. “There’s donuts to be made, and a certain Herbert Nash to look at.”

“Well, if you’re putting it that way…”

“If it gets you out of bed, doll, I’ll say anything.

***

“Good morning, kids,” Tattie greets, flinging open the door to the hut with her foot. Her hands are full, the objects clanging as she sets them down on a small table. “Right, some housekeeping. Pulled some strings with the friends in high places, and Olive,” she says, turning to her with her hands on her hips, “you’re being allowed to stay.”

“All about who ya know, isn’t it, Tat?”

“Indeed,” she nods, a triumphant smile making her eyes crinkle. “I mean, look at this face! What kind of father would say no to this? Even if he can’t see it, he knows I’d be giving him the puppy eyes. Think the memory of that weakened him.” She pauses for a second, picking up the silver objects she’d discarded a moment earlier. “Anyway, in regards to that, we’ve all been given dog tags to wear now, as part of our uniform.” 

She gives each girl their dog tag, the tag itself looped on the regulation silver ball chain. Olive places hers around her neck before tucking it into her jumpsuit, the tag dangling just below where her locket sits neatly on her clavicle. 

“Let’s get going, girls,” Tattie coos, a mother hen herding her little chicks. The weather shocks both Valencia and Helen, the pair of them looking at their surroundings with wide eyes.

“They can’t fly in this, surely?” Helen says, shaking her head with worry.

“Surely not,” Val replies, slipping her hand into Olive’s. It feels clammy, Olive feeling the anxiety emanate off her instantly. “They’ll be grounded. Chicky will ground them, right?” Val squeezes at Olive’s hand for a response, the second girl unsure if Val was talking out loud or expecting an answer. Olive clears her throat, squeezing back reassuringly.

“Right,” she agrees, her head on Val’s shoulder for just a fleeting moment. “I think you’re right.”

As they reach the truck, they are surprised to see four men standing around it, two leaning against it for balance. Jack Kidd, Everett Blakely, James Douglass and Herbert Nash all deep in conversation, exchanging stories of home and their families, perk up even more at the sight of their girls in the early morning light.

“What in the world…” Valencia begins, her footsteps picking up pace to greet Everett with a good morning kiss. Olive feels herself do the same to reach her guy, followed by Helen. The only one that keeps their cool is Tattie Spaatz, addressing Kidd with only a quiet hello. 

“Hello, you,” Olive murmurs, leaning up to kiss Dougie. “How are you?”

“Morning, dumpling,” he replies, nuzzling into her.

“What did you call me?” she laughs, her arms wrapping around him. “Never heard that as a pet name before.”

“You don’t like it?”

“Not my favorite,” she replies, rubbing her nose against his. “Maybe try some others?”

“Oh, uh. Don’t worry, there’s a few more up here,” he responds, tapping his finger to his temple.

“Get away,” she teases, shoving him softly. “When did you all orchestrate this early morning surprise, anyhow?”

“When we all walked to bed last night. The four of us, we thought it would be a nice idea.”

“It was. It really was,” she says, kissing him again. “If you stay, coffee will be ready in a few.”

“What do you think I’m here for? No sugar, please, lovey.”

“I know…oh, that one’s sweet. I like that one!”

He grins at her cheekily, that twinkle in his eye ever present. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, his cheeks turning pink. 

“You’re cute,” she teases, pinching his cheek softly and turning to climb into the truck.

***

Coffee finally brewed and a batch of donuts ready for the hungry men of Thorpe Abotts, the gang hears the slap of feet running on the pavement, and the sound of two small children giggling. Billy and Sammy race their way to the Clubmobile as fast as their legs would carry them, almost diving headfirst into the counter.

“Steady on, lads, you almost took out Captain Blakely!” Olive urges, picking up two fresh donuts for them. “Just out of the fryer.”

“Wow, thanks, Miss,” Sammy says. Val joins them, holding two cups of coffee for the boys. “Don’t tell your mothers, for God’s sake,” she says, patting Sammy on the shoulder and ruffling through Billy’s curls. The youngins cheer quietly, excited over being given this, to them, forbidden beverage.

“You’re giving already excitable children coffee? Before school? Jesus, that poor teacher.”

“Don’t sweat it, Ol. It’s mostly milk.”

“Ohhhh. Smart.”

“Not just a pretty face,” she cackles, heading back to the truck.

“The prettiest, though,” Ev interjects, handing her his half smoked cigarette. “Maude,” he nods in her direction. “Any idea where Dougie went?”

“Absolutely none,” she shrugs, confused. She hadn’t even seen him leave, and was a little sore at his sudden exit without so much as a goodbye. She huffs a little, lighting her own cigarette and letting the smoke from the first drag stream through her nostrils. 

“Okay, sourpuss,” Ev japes, pointing through the fog that's beginning to clear. “Here he comes.”

“Where did you go?” Olive asks, her face still etched with a little sadness.

“Forgot something,” he responds breathlessly, smiling down at his girl. He has a jacket strewn over his shoulder, and hands it to her as he takes the cigarette from her mouth and pulls on it. “This is for you.”

“For me?” she gasps, unfolding it. It smells just like him, and covered in different patches that he’d obviously exchanged for smokes. She grins at him, lost for words. “This is–wow.”

“It’s for when I’m not here,” he murmurs, helping her put it on. “So you can feel close to me.”

“That’s so sweet, Dougie. Thank you.” She fumbles for a second, panicking. “I don’t have anything to give you!”

“Hey, don’t worry about it–”

“Wait!” she yelps, fiddling with her collar. “I do have something.” 

She fiddles with the two chains around her neck, pulling at the spare dog tag that hangs a little lower than the other. She unclasps it and hands it to him; his turn to be speechless, his mouth open in surprise and a hand running quickly through his neatly pomaded hair. 

“Gee, Ollie. Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“That’s–heh, now I don’t know what to say. You’re really my girl, huh?”

“Sure am.” 

He grabs her by the back of her neck and kisses her deeply, her hands finding balance on his chest as she’s thrust into him. They feel one another smile as their lips meet, a moment that makes them feel like they’re in their own little world. 

He places the tag around his own chain after they break apart, Olive's tag dangling close to his heart. 

“Ah,” he mutters, patting it gently. “Perfect.” 

She grins at him, heat rising from her chest and spreading over her cheeks. He glances down at her open jumpsuit, her clavicle still visible. His eyes light up when he sees the gold locket sitting pretty, hand coming out to touch it. 

“Got room for me in there?”

“You know it,” she swoons. “Right next to my Papa.” Her fingers touch his as she takes the locket from his gentle grasp, beginning to open it and not paying a thought to the color picture of her father within it. The world seems to slow down as the locket almost opens, everything coming back into focus at the sound of Everett Blakely's voice from the back of the truck.

“Doug, you need more smokes?” he calls, Dougie planting a quick kiss to Olive’s forehead and rushing over to him. She exhales a breath she barely noticed she had been withholding, opening the locket for just a quick second. 

“I'll tell him, promise,” she whispers to the picture. “I'll tell them all.”

“Come on, ya rabble. Get inside!” Chick Harding struts out of the briefing room, making his way up to Val at the window of the truck. He opens his mouth to ask for his coffee, mouth left hanging open as Valencia places the cup in front of him, already made to his exact taste. She pours a second for Red Bowman before placing two donuts on napkins and wordlessly handing the goodies over. 

“Thank you, Valencia,” he says, clearly surprised. “I need to get you girls together real quick. Miss Tattie, can you close up once the fellas are all in briefing?”

“Errm…yes?” She replies, clearly confused. She looks towards her girls, shrugging. “I guess start cleaning up a little, we'll come back to it.”

“We're not in trouble, are we?” Helen asks, her eyes worriedly darting between her friends. “I mean, I know we aren't exactly allowed to form romances with the men, it's right there in the rules, but…”

“It's a silly rule,” Tattie responds, puffing on her cigarette. “How do they expect us not to form bonds with these fellas?”

“Don't stress yourself, chicken,” Olive joins, pulling her into a hug. “I'm sure Chicky just wants to remind us that we need to keep Meatball tied to the post.” 

“You're probably right. He hasn't mentioned knowing about Nash and I, neither has Red, so–”

“Helen, that man has eyes in the back of his ass. He knows everything: the all seeing eyes from the watchtower.”

“Okay, that's not terrifying at all. Save it for Halloween, English!”

***

Red Bowman stands broadly at the door of the briefing hut, hands on his hips as the girls walk towards him. Val is sporting that signature furrow, albeit softer this time, as if she is deep in anxious thought.

“Spaatz, DiRosano, Porter, Lewis,” he greets, nodding at each of them as he says their name. “Come on in.”

They follow him silently, the girls catching the eye of some of the men as they enter. Chicky spots them from where he is standing across the room, fat cigar freshly lit between his teeth.

“Girls,” he says in that thundering voice of his. 

“Chicky,” Tattie responds as he joins them near the door. Lighting a smoke of her own, she looks at him suspiciously. “Care to reveal why you’ve pulled us in here?”

“Need ya to look after that damn mutt,” he huffs, a billow of smoke leaving his nostrils and mouth as he replies. “Make sure he don’t distract the boys none.”

“Uh-huh,” Tattie responds, still staring at him narrow-eyed. “Surely you don’t need all four of us to do that? Meatball is hard work but, sir, not that dang hard.”

He laughs, gesturing for the girls to move closer to him. They bunch in, including Red, the communal circle growing tighter at his silent command. “Bowman, tell ‘em.”

Red clears his throat and finally relaxes his stance. “We don’t just want ya in here to watch the dog. We’ve seen how close some of ya have got to these men and we don’t feel it’s fair to keep ya in the dark. It’s a big one, and we don’t want ya moping around and playing guessing games. We want ya all in the know. Got me?”

“We gotcha,” Val replies. “Doesn’t lessen the worry though, Red.”

“No, I know,” he agrees, exhaling an audible deep breath through his nose. “But it takes away the mystery. They’d tell ya anyway, but…”

“But you think we deserve to know,” Olive squeaks, nodding in agreement. 

“That’s right.”

Tattie finally lets her eyes open wider, also nodding along. Helen joins, her lips pressed together in a line of worry. “Where shall we sit?”

“At the back if you don’t mind, girls,” Chicky interjects, showing them to four spare seats. “Keep that mutt under control. No playing fetch during the briefing!”

At the word ‘fetch,’ a whine shrills from Meatball, the husky suddenly ready to play. 

“Not now, buddy,” Olive soothes, scritching at his fur before taking her seat. “Later, mkay?”

Distracted by giving attention to Meatball, Olive doesn’t register the large presence of Curt Biddick sauntering up to them and greeting Val in the same way he has since childhood.

“There she is!” he cries. “There’s the gal. Hey, whatcha doin’ in here? This ain’t your usual spot before a mission.”

“We know,” she murmurs, standing to relay the information Red and Chicky gave them. They speak in hushed tones, Olive noticing Curt nodding at every appropriate stage of the conversation. 

“Well, that’s good of him to think of ya like that,” he says, his hand gripping at hers. “Yous all should be in the know. It’s only right.”

“You wanna sit with us?” Olive offers, patting a spare seat on the right of her.

“Nah, thanks though, Ol. Dickie saved me a spot up front.”

“Ah, grand,” she nods, going back to the dog and drowning him in the attention he keeps whining for.

“Well, I’ll be seein’ yous. Val, make me a coffee after.”

“Pain in my ass!”

***

As the briefing begins, Olive feels Helen next to her, elbowing her gently.

“Hey, Ol!” she whispers through her teeth, head nodding towards where James Douglass is sat next to Harry Crosby. 

“Mhm?” Olive replies, catching Dougie turn around and wink at her at the same moment. She smiles at him softly, winking back.

“That,” she giggles, hand covering her mouth to muffle the sound as Chick Harding’s voice blares throughout the room and capturing the attention of each airman. “I was trying to tell you that.”

“So high school,” she teases, shaking her head and joining in the giggles. “What a sweetie.”

“He loves you,” she says, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Oh, shut it, Porter,” she bites back, smiling nonetheless. 

“And you love him.”

“Give over, doll. I’ll spit in your eye.”

“Go for it. I’d take it, because I know I’m right.”

Olive sighs, shaking her head and leaning against her. She feels Meatball finally settle, his head on her legs and huffing slightly, surrounded by all his people and none of them willing to play.

“Quit sassing,” Olive softly scolds, petting his soft ears. “We will play later.”

“What’s up?” Val leans over, reaching to pat Meatball. 

“He’s having a tantrum ‘cos all his friends are in the same room and not a single one can play.”

“He’s just a baby, that’s why,” Helen coos, making kissy faces at him. 

“Girls, don’t make Chicky regret inviting us in here,” Tattie hisses, passing cigarettes down the line. “Hush up, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they all say in unison, suddenly sitting up straight and keen to listen.

The curtain that is covering a large map on the wall is pulled - almost with a flourish - by the Colonel, the airmen making noises of suspense. It's Curt, sitting a few rows ahead of the usual guys, next to his co-pilot Dickie, who speaks first, his voice a little softer than everyone else is used to. 

“Why's that line go all the way to Africa?”

“Africa?!” The word leaves Olive's mouth in a squeak before she can stop it, clapping a hand over her mouth immediately following it. Meatball whimpers at the sudden mood change, those literal puppy eyes full of concern that his girl is suddenly afraid. 

“Here,” Val says, elbowing Olive gently in the ribs. She hands her Tattie’s hip flask, shoving it in her hand. “Calm yourself.”

Olive does so, taking a chaste gulp from the flask and wincing at the burn of the alcohol racing down her throat. 

“Better?”

She nods, handing it back to Val so it reaches its original owner. Val looks back at Olive with the same concern that's gripped Meatball, her hand suddenly gripping Olive’s.

“Doll, you've never reacted like this.”

“I'm aware,” Olive whispers back, her voice shaking. “Fucking Africa, Valencia. Africa.”

Her nervousness momentarily fades away as Dougie turns around to smile at her again, her grinning back instantly. They hold it for a moment, Olive getting lost in his beautiful eyes even from this distance. She feels Helen nudge her again, nodding triumphantly.

“I didn't say you were wrong, doll.”

“Oh, I knew it, English!”

***

“See you all in a few days,” is Colonel Harding’s departing remark as the airmen begin to file out of the room. Tattie is the one to lead the girls out, the three others following her like ducks in a row once again. Olive is so distracted by not bumping into a dozen other men that she barely notices Dougie waiting for her in the doorway, along with Ev who is waiting for Valencia.

“How did you sneak in this time, babydoll?”

“No sneaking required, James,” she grins, him pulling her into an embrace. “We were invited. Chick and Red thought it appropriate to let us in on what you boys are doing - lessens the anxiety apparently.”

“And did it help any?”

“Not one bit,” Olive replies. “Enemy territory,” she says, her voice squeaking as her throat closes, the effort of keeping tears at bay. “Then fucking Africa.”

“Hey, now,” he soothes, his hand on the side of her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek. “I’ll be home before you know it. I’ll even write you.”

“There won't be much point,” she laughs. “I'll end up getting it after you get home.”

“Hey, it's the thought that counts, right?”

She smiles, despite the single tear falling from her cheek. He wipes it away as soon as he sees it drop, a soft, comforting smile on his face. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” she sniffs. “I’m a tough girl.”

He nods. “I know you are.”

“I can take care of myself, don’t you fret.”

“You have,” he says. “You still do. You always will.” He leans in and kisses her sweetly on the lips, his hand still upon her now blushed cheek. “I’ve just joined in, too. Now we take care of each other, hm?”

She nods, pressing her nose and forehead to his, feeling every worry melt away for just a moment. He breaks the silence, moving back a little and holding her hand with his free one.

“Kept seeing your cute little smile while we were in there. I loved it.”

“Gosh, you’re just obsessed with me, aren’t you?” She replies with a giggle, obviously joking; she doesn’t expect his face to fall serious, his eyes darting all over her face, not quite being able to figure out where to look first. He settles on her eyes and then her mouth as he moves to kiss her again.

“Sure am, sugar.”

The pair are distracted by Tattie sauntering over, being followed by an overly giggly Helen who is trying to control a very giddy Meatball.

“Girls, there’s a truck to re-open and more hungry fellas hankering for donuts. Quit necking!” Despite her clear irritation, she winks at both Olive and Val, beckoning them to follow her once again. 

“Come on, handsome,” Olive says, pulling Dougie by the hand. “Let me get you a snack for the journey.”

***

“Meatball! Meatball, no!” Helen scolds, trying her best to tie his leash to the pole that stands right beside the Clubmobile. Seeing Helen crouch in front of him, he thinks it’s time to play, the hyper husky panting in her face. His tail begins to wag as he sees her reach into the pocket of her jumpsuit but is dismayed to find she has only reached in there to grab a handkerchief, capturing a surprise sneeze. “This dog hair! Tickles my nose something fierce.” Eyes now streaming, Helen struggles with completing the knot and looks towards her companions for assistance.

“Ol, a little help please! You’re the only one he listens to besides DeMarco.”

At the mention of his owner’s name, Meatball howls loudly and continues panting and wagging in excitement. Making her way to him and Helen, Olive laughs.

“He can’t hear you from all the way out here, buddy!” She takes the leash from Helen and ties it with a flourish in seconds, Helen looking on impressively. “Helen, we cannot say his name! You know that by now!”

“My bad!” She titters, groaning as she wipes at her eyes again. “He’s adorable but my goodness, these allergies.” 

A Jeep breaks through the fog with a loud screech, the noise startling the girls and the dog. Val, lighting a cigarette as she exits the truck, joins the other girls in order to investigate while Tattie continues cleaning, mumbling out loud to herself - something that the girls have deciphered she does when she is anxious.

“Garcia,” Val greets, recognizing him instantly. “How can we help ya?”

“Just wanted to let you all know, the boys have got a thirty minute delay. If ya wanted to say goodbye again, drop em another hot coffee to keep their spirits up.”

“Say less,” Olive replies, unhooking Meatball from his leash and gesturing for him to follow her. She clambers in, the dog leaping into her lap instantly. Val grabs another two coffees and a bag of donuts, Tattie and Helen waving them off.

“Step on it, Garcia,” Val laughs. “They’ll take the news better if it comes from us.”

“You got that right, DiRosano. Sure they like looking at you both a hell of a lot more than they like looking at me!”

Speeding through the mist, Garcia huffs a little, the brightest setting of lights not able to break through it. “It’s a real pea-souper, this one.”

“Do you reckon they’ll call it off?” Olive enquires, hoping for the answer she wants to hear.

“Not a chance, Lewis. This is a big one. Brass have taken a lotta risks and–well, I’d better zip it.”

“Nothing I won’t find out in a few weeks when I’m typing Chicky’s reports up,” Val retorts, reaching around to pet Meatball. “No need to keep it quiet.”

They conclude their drive in silence, Garcia seeming to have run out of polite conversation within a few moments. The brakes screech as they come to a stop, Olive patting Meatball on the rear to get him off her lap. Swiping at her navy blue jumpsuit to rid it of the hair, she loses him in the smog instantly and throws a ball in the direction he ran off in. Grabbing Val’s hand, as if she’s somehow able to lead her to the crew of Just A-Snappin’, she smiles at her wanely.

“Chickie, I can see through this haze just as well as you.”

“This way we don’t lose each other,” Olive cackles in return, resting her head on Val’s shoulder for a short second.

“Oh, never, girl. Never ever.” 

She looks her friend up and down as they walk hand in hand, Olive trying to wrap Dougie’s jacket around her with her spare hand. 

“Dougie’s?” Val asks, gesturing. 

“Yeah! Sewed all these on himself. Ain't it neat?”

“Sewed…himself?”

“Yeah!”

“Ol, I've been sewing his stuff since Ev and I started dating…oh, wait til I get my hands on him!”

***

“Looky here!” Dougie yells, clumsily getting up from the ground. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Garcia wanted us to share some news…”

“Uh-huh?”

“Thirty minute delay!” The girls yell in unison, trying their best to add some cheer to it. Olive even accompanies it with a singsong voice and jazz hands, Dougie almost falling over himself laughing at her. 

“The Clubmobile serving snacks and putting on a show now, Maude?” Everett Blakely pipes up as Val kisses him on the cheek.

“Hey, get it for free while you can. Olive and The Clubmobile Gals. It's got some pizzazz to it, huh?”

“You gonna be a star, Maude? Take care of all of us?”

“You bet, Ernest,” she laughs, feeling Dougie wrap his arms around her waist and give her a squeeze.

“This is the best way bad news has ever been given to me.”

“Those three years of drama school had to come in handy somewhere, my love. Here,” she says, handing him a brown bag full to burst with donuts. “For everyone, mind!”

“All of us?” Ev asks. “No chance. Via and Saunders don’t like donuts, Kidd and I are too busy flying the damn fort to even think about having a snack break, and Croz…” The group look over at him, laying on the concrete hardstand with his eyes closed, his head upon his briefcase. 

“Croz won’t keep ‘em down,” Dougie interjects, a triumphant expression on his face. “Looks like they’re all for me!”

“I've got a bone to pick with you, Douglass!” Val interjects, that classic brow furrow joined by a mischievous smile.

“What?!” he snorts, mouth full of donut. “What've I done now?”

“You're in trouble, baby boy.”

“You! Sewing!?”

“Oh–shit,” he swallows, holding his hands up defensively around a grin. “I know when I've been caught!”

“I've been–”

“I know,” he replies, laughing at her extremely pissed off expression. “Just makes me feel safer.”

Val softens instantly, as does Olive, the pair of them aww-ing and cooing at him. 

“Darling,” Olive pouts, kissing his cheek. “Very cute.”

“The puppy eyes work every time,” he retorts, grabbing Olive’s hand.

“Oh, you little shit!”

The group  make their way to where Croz is snoozing, Dougie sitting behind Olive so she can lean on him to get somewhat comfy as Valencia,  joined by Ev, sidles up to Curt the moment she spots him appearing through the fog.

“Drew you somethin’,” Dougie murmurs, digging around in the pocket of his sheepskin. 

“When?” Olive asks, shoulders beginning to shake from giggling. “How?”

“Just before you got here. I was gonna send it with your letter but you may as well have it now.” He hands her a small piece of neatly folded paper, an expectant look on his face as she opens it. He has drawn two ladybirds, nestled together on a leaf with the caption ‘Can I bug you forever?’

“Oh, gee,” Olive says, absolutely tickled. “I love the ladybirds.”

“Ladybugs, honey girl.”

“Ladybir–what did you call me?”

She feels her cheeks glow pink at this new pet name, the first that’s made her insides feel like they’re melting. 

“Oh, you like that one!”

“I absolutely do. Stick with that one. That’s lovely.”

“You’re lovely.”

“Oh, stop,” she teases, leaning up so he can plant a kiss on her temple. She presses her forehead on his chin, him squeezing her to his body in reciprocation. “You’re such a sweetie.”

They’re silent for a few moments, them both savoring the embrace. His hands feel warm as he places them in her lap, his nose burying itself in her neck as he kisses her there gently. With Everett joining them again, sans Val, she looks to her left, spotting Val and Curt a short distance away - a sign that the fog is clearing just a little. Olive sees them hug, Val holding him a little tighter this time. He smiles softly at her, bidding her farewell. She stares after him wistfully as he walks away and disappears into the ether. 

***

As Valencia returns to rejoin the group, sitting and chatting underneath their fort, Everett stands to greet her. 

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she stammers out, a shaky breath leaving her lips as Ev reaches up to wipe her eyes and pull her into a hug. He takes her hand as he sits on the concrete again, gently pulling her with him.

“C'mere, come sit,” he says, patting his knee. “Got a riddle to share.”

She perches on his lap as Dougie wakes a snoring Croz by whacking him on the leg. 

“Hmm!” Croz grumbles, his brow furiously furrowed. “What now, Doug?”

“Ev has a riddle to tell us.”

“You woke me up for a friggin’ riddle?”

“Thought you could do with waking up your brain,” Dougie teases, Crosby swatting at him.

“Fine. Go on, Blakely, the floor is yours.”

The captain takes a pull from his Lucky Strike before beginning, clearing his throat as he speaks:

“You’re on the way to purgatory–”

“Purgatory?”

“Yes, Maude, purgatory. You’re on the way to purgatory, and one road goes to Valhalla. The other goes to Hell, damnation, the abyss, what have you.”

“Uh huh?” Croz says, his tired face now clouded with confusion and curiosity.

“On each of the roads, is a goblin…”

“A goblin?” Olive exclaims, trying to stifle a giggle. “Ernest, where is this going?”

“If you'd let me get through more than one line, English, you'd find out. One goblin tells the truth, the other always lies. He's a tricky little fucker, a little mischievous.”

“An imp,” Olive chuckles, catching Val’s eye.

“Birichino,” she enunciates, winking at Ev. “That's what Ma calls Curt.”

“Wait…would you ask both of them if either are the good goblin?”

“Jesus, English, I was about to say that!” Croz yelps, frisbeeing his crush cap at her.

“Snooze ya lose, Harry!” She throws it right back, catching him in the abdomen. It winds him slightly, Crosby sitting up quickly and wincing. 

“Good shot,” he wheezes, holding a hand up in defeat as Olive checks on him, laughing at his faux coughs. 

With a laugh, Dougie brings the group back to the conversation. 

“I have a riddle!” 

“Please, regale us,” Val says, lighting a cigarette and handing it across to Olive. Dougie winks down at Olive, a knowing glint in his eye.

“What's the difference between a hippo, and a–”

“And a zippo? Douglass, we've heard that one a thousand times now, pal.”

Despite hearing it for what feels like the thousandth time herself, Olive begins to giggle in front of James, him joining in as he nuzzles into her again. “Yeah, but this is why I tell it. For the prettiest smile in the world.”

“I love that one,” she titters, reaching up to kiss him.

“I know you do,” he murmurs, reciprocating her kiss just as lovingly. “And I love y–”

“That a flare?” Croz cuts in, his eyes narrowing as he tries to make sense of the light in the distance that's now falling speedily to the ground. 

“Time to go, fellas,” Ev commands, his crew jumping up at his tone. He kisses Val deeply, before wrapping his arms around her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear to look forward to his return home. 

After he helps her stand, Dougie takes Olive’s face in his hands and traces her mouth with the pad of his thumb, as if to try and memorize its shape.

“What were you about to say?” she asks, their faces coming closer together and their noses meeting. 

“Tell you when I get home, honey girl.”

“No, now!” she demands, kissing him deeply. 

“You're cute when you're pissed off.”

“Doesn't mean you should do it often, cheeky.”

“I'll write you, okay?”

“Okay,” she quivers, hand on his sweet face. “Please come home to me.”

“Nowhere else I'd rather be, babydoll.” 

He moves her hand from his face, kissing her palm one, two, three times before walking away, Olive watching him until he's out of sight.

***

“You heard that, right?” Olive gasps, her hand gripping on to Val's arm. “What Dougie said, you heard it?”

“Yes, I did. I heard it, Ol. He loves you!” she squeals, handing Meatball’s leash back to her as he leads them back to the truck, sniffing through the mist. 

“I didn't think–”

“Olive Lewis!” Val shouts, that Brooklyn twang adding an extra umph to Olive’s name. “Don't make me give you a slap.”

“I'm not!” she protests, rolling her eyes. “I just…”

“We all know you love him, too, doll. You'd have to be blind to not notice it.”

“Is it really that obvious?” 

“Limpido come il giorno, my girl.”

“In English, please.”

“As plain as the nose on ya face.”

Arriving back at the Clubmobile thanks to Meatball’s dog senses, Val and Olive rejoin Helen and Tattie, the girls standing outside of the truck sharing a cigarette. Dainty coughs leave Helen as she tries to inhale, her sweet, kind eyes filling up with tears at every drag. 

“Helen, what have I told you about that? You’re going to hurt yourself, coughing like that.”

“I can’t…seem to…do it!”

“Then don’t, chicken!”

They hear a ruckus coming through the fog, Rosie and his group  breaking out of the mist and greeting the girls. 

“Hiya, boys!” Tattie calls, climbing back into the truck. “Last few donuts are yours if you want ‘em!”

“Thank ya, Miss Tattie,” Rosie politely replies, shaking his head in mock dismay as he spots Nash making a beeline for Helen. “How’s your day been?”

“Oh, easy enough. It’s trying to find a way to keep ourselves occupied while the boys are up that’ll be the trouble. Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any ideas?”

“Nothing that doesn’t involve sitting with a book, I’m afraid.”

“Hm, maybe not. I’d get restless.”

“You, restless? Now I don’t believe that.”

She pauses for a second, taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee. “Girls!” she calls, the three of them breaking away from their conversation with Nash, Pappy and Speas. “What do you say we name this old girl?” She pats the open window of the Clubmobile fondly before continuing. “A few of the other girls out in Europe have named theirs, why don’t we?”

“Oh, yes!” Helen replies excitedly. “But what?”

There’s a pause as they all begin to ponder, each person occasionally offering a “hm,” or a “aha!” Pappy, at one point, scratches his head as if he’s deep in thought. “Why don’t you name it after one of the states you’re all from?”

“Pappy,” Olive says, looking at him side-eyed. “Think about that again.”

“Scratch that,” he laughs. “Well then, I’m stumped!”

“You did have a semblance of a good idea though! We totally could keep it in relation to all of us girls.”

“Do-Nut Enter,” Tattie suggests, cackling at her own joke. 

“All Things Nice?” Helen shrugs. “Because we’ve got sugar on the donuts, Val is the spice–”

“Why, thank you!”

“Olive, any ideas?”

“None!” She walks over to Meatball, tying him to his post. “My brain is fried.”

“That’ll be the lack of sleep, kid. I’ve got my eye on you!” she pokes, winking at her.

“That’s it!” Val calls, seeing Olive begin to pet the dog. “Something to do with Meatball!”

“Uh-huh? What did you have in mind?”

“Meatball, Meatball…” she murmurs, before snapping her fingers. “Got it! Spaghetti ‘n’ Meatball!”

“Oh, that’s precious!” Olive squeals, looking between everyone else. “Don’t you all think?”

Tattie smiles with a soft chuckle, Helen also nodding in agreement. 

“Spaghetti ‘n’ Meatball it is.”

***

Inducting Kenny and Winks to be their painters, their brilliant nose art designs speaking for themselves, the gang all rally around with trays of coffee and a fresh batch of donuts to satiate their hungry helpers. Rosie and Pappy were on ribbon duty, finding something for the girls to cut for the grand reopening of the truck with its brand new name. Speas was in charge of gathering the remaining men for the celebration, rallying them from all corners of the base. Nash was supposed to have joined him, but remains stuck to Helen’s side like he was velcroed to her.

“Nash,” Olive says, teasingly. “I promise she won’t disappear while you help Speas out.”

“Olive, you can’t let a pretty girl like this outta your sight if you can help it!”

“Soppy sod,” she giggles, watching Helen blush. “I’ll need her once Rosie and Cousin Pappy have arrived back, though.”

“Hey, what’s all that about?” Nash asks. “I tried to ask but I couldn’t make head nor tail about what he was yappin’ about.”

“Oh! We share the same surname and the moment Pappy heard it, he declared we obviously had to be related. I’m not protesting,” she laughs, covering her mouth to stifle it slightly. “It’s not like I have a big family myself. It’s nice to add to the fold, actually.”

“What’s that, doll?” Helen asks, her face now a picture of both curiosity and concern. Olive feels herself heat up, almost beginning to boil over as the reality of what she has said begins to set it.

“Nothing, nothing!” she swallows, willing the stressed warmth to leave her cheeks.

“No, tell me what you meant!”

“Later,” she replies, dismissively, racing back around to the front of the truck. Through the haze of panic, she barely notices Lemmons sneak up behind her and snatch a donut from the tray she had been holding.

“Hey!” Sammy yells, telling on him within seconds. “You didn’t ask Miss Olive first!”

“Yeah!” Billy echoes. “Lemmons, you need to ask nicely!”

“Boys!” he laughs. “I don’t need to ask. Miss Olive and I have an agreement.”

“Oh!” They say in realization, before carrying on petting Meatball who is happily lapping up all the extra attention.

“What does that mean?” Val asks, Olive jumping at her presence.

“What does what mean?” she snaps, shaking her head. “What?”

“You and Kenny having a deal.”

“Oh my God, nothing!” she barks, feeling her eyes begin to swim with tears. “Just leave it.”

“Huh…”

As Olive turns her back, Val walks away, shaking her head. Clutching the locket, Olive sniffs as the tears dry in her eyes. “Don’t worry, Papa. They’ll know by tonight. No more secrets.”

Olive is quickly distracted by a chorus of voices calling her name, Helen and Tattie pulling a trail of toilet paper across the Clubmobile to create a makeshift ribbon to cut for the grand reopening. Just as Chick Harding approaches, he speaks up again. 

“Whose twenty two sheet daily ration did ya take?” 

“Yours, sir,” Tattie quips back, joining the rest of the group. “After three! One, two…”

“You little–”

Just as Chick is prepared to tear the paper, Meatball leaps. It’s as if it all happens in slow motion, everyone’s faces a picture of surprise as the dog jumps and grabs the paper with his teeth, pulling it apart before Tattie even manages to get to three. 

“Meatball!” They all moan disdainfully, the dog happily panting at his efforts, looking terribly pleased with himself. 

“Good thing you’re cute,” Olive scolds, kissing him on the head. “Wait til your Dad hears about this!”

***

The Silver Wings Club is the emptiest it’s ever been - usually packed to the brim, the few service members sat deep in quiet conversation as a few members of the band play softly on stage adds an eerie feel to the environment.

Olive was already feeling uneasy, both Val and Helen noticing how subdued she was as they changed uniforms, her shrugging them off and reassuring them she was fine at every turn. She’d seen herself grow ever paler in the mirror, willing herself to put one foot in front of the other as they approached Rosie and his crew in the club. As they all stand to offer their seats, Olive declines and makes a beeline for the bar where she orders a large whiskey. She gulps it down the moment it is placed in front of her, her friends looking on in surprise as she turns back to them.

“Rosie, Pappy…lads. I need to talk to the girls. Alone.”

“Sure thing, Miss Olive.”

Pappy remains still, arms crossed as he smiles jovially between Olive and their friends. “You too, Cousin Pappy.”

“Oh, what? Why?”

“Because it’s private.”

“We’re family!”

“It’s girl stuff!” she blurts, closing her eyes and wincing as she snaps at him.

“Say no more!” he guffaws, the insinuation of that alone enough to have him pick up his drink and follow Rosie.

“What’s up, kid?” Tattie says, side eyeing Olive as she lights a cigarette. “You’ve been off all day. Lay it on us.”

“Well, it’s uh–”

“Is it because Dougie and Ev, and the rest of the fellas are away? I know it’s the first time you’ve dealt with something like this, but–”

“Nope, not that. There’s something–oh, Jesus Christ…” Olive gasps, swallowing the bile that’s beginning to creep up her throat. She shudders, her whole body seeming to convulse. 

“What something?”

“I need to tell you something. About me, about my life. And I’m worried - terrified, in fact - that you all won’t believe me.”

“We’ve heard it all, Ol,” Helen laughs, sipping her cocktail.

“Oh, I doubt you’ve heard this, Helen.”

“Christ sake!” Val yells, gently kicking Olive’s shin. “Spit it out, English!”

“Right, well. Tattie, you know how I, in your words, appeared suddenly?”

“Yeah? From thin air, it seems.”

“Well, I was on the hardstand that day, because I fell out of a fort.”

“Why were you in a fort, Ol?” Helen places her drink down, her brow softly furrowed. Olive takes a deep breath in, bracing herself to finally tell the truth.

“I was in a fort because that’s how I got here. I’m not from here, from this time.”

“W-what?” Val asks, equally as confused as the rest of the group. “Huh?” Olive sees her chest rise and fall quickly, her breaths becoming uneven and jagged.

“I’m from the future,” Olive replies quietly, her eyes falling on her hands that she’s placed in her lap, wringing them together. “I’m from the year two thousand and twenty one. In my time, I climbed into a model fort because I thought I heard a dog barking for help in there and I fell out. Here.”

“Olive–”

“Who else knows?” Val demands. “Does anyone else know?”

Olive nods without looking up. “Kenny, and now Benny.”

“Before me?!” 

Olive looks up as her friend's voice borders on yelling, and sees her eyes begin to fill with tears. 

“I thought we were friends, Olive.”

“We are!” she yells in response as Val stands, stalking towards the door. “I didn’t know what else to do!”  She begins to follow her, but is quickly pulled back by Helen and Tattie who return her to her chair.

“Let her go,” Tattie says, stubbing her cigarette into the ashtray in front of her. “Give her a moment.”

“But–”

“No buts, girl. Now…you’re not lying to us?”

“I have been, yes. But this…this is me telling the truth. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect to land on my ass somewhere so removed from my own life and find this.”

“What is it you’ve found, hm?”

“You guys…a family. I don’t–I don’t really have one aside from my grandmother and this…” she feels hot, fat tears begin to streak down her cheeks as she sobs through her words. “This is such a gift.”

“Look, we can’t say we’re not shocked,” Helen says, taking her hand. “But, I believe you.”

“You do?”

“Mhm. Now I think about it, it all makes sense. Can’t set your hair, can’t seem to get your nails right…”

“Gee, thanks,” Olive snorts, wiping her nose with a handkerchief.

“You know what I mean, girlie,” she comforts, hand now stroking hers. “Aside from all that, you’re one of us now. I feel like you always have been.”

Tattie nods, wordlessly confirming what Helen has said. “You don’t just have your grandmother anymore, Ol. You have me, Helen, the boys, and Val.”

“Not so sure about that last one right now,” Olive weeps, Helen shushing her softly. 

“Yes, you are. She’s upset she wasn’t told, and rightfully so. She has every right to be mad at you right now, doll.”

“Yeah,” Olive says softly, dabbing at her eyes again. “I’m gonna go see to her, but when I come back, I have something to show you.”

“What is it?” Tattie asks, eyes glowing with excitement.

“Proof.”

***

“Can I come in?” Olive asks as she taps on the door to the Red Cross hut.

“Free country,” Val responds, her tone sulky. Olive sees her slumped on her bunk with Meatball as she walks in, deciding against sitting next to her and opting to sit on the bunk opposite.

“I’m sorry,” Olive starts, her voice quiet. “I wanted to tell you, I just–”

“Just what? Decided to tell Kenny and DeMarco before I even got a look in?”

“I didn’t intend to tell them. They caught me.”

“Come again?”

“Kenny caught me one night, and I couldn’t lie to him. Truth be told, I’d had one too many Old Fashioneds and didn’t have my wits about me.”

“And DeMarco?”

“The dog gave me away this morning as I fell out of the plane.” Meatball whines at the mention of his presence, his ears pricking up. “Yes, I’m talking about you, ya damn mutt.”

She hears Val take a deep inhale, the breath leaving her slowly. “So you did wanna tell me?”

“More than anything. I just couldn’t figure out how.”

“Why now?”

“It was all getting too risky. So many things almost gave me away today and I can’t keep lying to everyone. Especially you, Val. You’re my person.”

“Thought that would be Dougie,” she replies snarkily, a smile growing on her lips nevertheless.

“Hm, maybe, romantically. But you? This shit is for keeps.”

“I feel the same.”

“Good.”

A moment of silence passes between them, Val reaching over to take Olive’s hand.

“Sorry I was a big baby,” she sniffs, shaking her head. “I just don’t like being left out.”

“Does anyone?” Olive laughs. “You believe me?”

“Y’know what, I actually do. It all makes sense now.”

“Yes, yes, I know, Helen already ate me up about my hair and my nails, I don’t need it repeated.”

“Ate you up?” Val asks, a snort leaving her as she tries to stifle a giggle.

“Chewed me up and spat me right out.”

“Oh, I love that. I need to use it.”

“Feel free! It’s one of my favorites.”

“Any more secrets you have to tell me? Might as well air it all out now while we’re here.”

“Nothing much else to tell, really. Dead dad, abandoned by my mum, raised by my grandmother.”

“Oh, me too. The–the first one.”

“I’m so sorry, honey. It’s not a nice club to be a member of.”

“Club?” she asks. “There’s a club?”

“Hmm. Dead Dads Club. Nobody chooses to be a member, it’s sort of thrust upon you. I was 13 when I got my badge.”

“I was much younger. Only a small child. It’s just been me, mom and Nonna ever since.”

“I only ever had Pearl after. My mum didn’t take my dad passing well–I mean, of course she didn’t but…anyway, that’s a story for another day.” She pulls her locket out of her collar, showing it to Valencia. “Would you like to see him?”

“I’d be honored.”

She opens the locket as Val perches on the bed next to her, her eyes squinting a little to see the small heart shaped picture inside. “You look just like him. Same eyes…same chin and jaw…wow, that’s your dad.”

“That’s my dad. My Papa,” she breathes, closing the necklace. “He was a sweetheart.”

“You think he’d approve of Dougie?”

“Without a doubt. Both with the same silly sense of humor. I’m beginning to think James has a hotline to heaven, the way he’s coming out with similar jokes.”

“And this?”

“I think he would. I think he’d just be happy to see me happy, y’know. It all scares me silly. He’s gone, and once Pearl goes, I’m all alone.”

“I’ll smack you, English,” Val scolds, wrapping an arm around her. “No, you’re not. We’re your family now.”

“Not just blowing smoke up my arse?”

“Never.”

“Come on,” Olive suggests, pulling Val up off the bed. “We’d better get back. I have something to show you.” She digs around in her bag, pulling out her phone as the door suddenly swings open.

“What on earth is that thing?” Tattie laughs, pointing at the object in Olive’s hand as Helen follows her in. “Sorry, we just wanted to check up on you. The conversation with Rosie and the boys became less and less riveting. Pah, get it. Riveting! Oh, what am I like?”

“Drunk, is what you are, Spaatz,” Helen teases, sitting her on a bunk. “You weren’t complaining when Pappy and Speas were buying you whiskey after whiskey.”

“Exactly! Now, what’s in your hand, English? A futuristic contraption?” She slurs through each word, her speech sounding like she has a mouth full of candy. 

“Here’s the proof I mentioned.” Olive presses the phone’s lock button for it to flash on, the girls all screeching in terror.

“What the fuck?!” Helen screams, a rarity for her to curse. “What is that?”

“A phone. Or a doo-hickey, as Lemmons likes to call it.” 

“But where’s the wire? The numbers? The–huh?!”

“I can’t do much with it here. But, I can play music, and take photos.”

“On a telephone?” Val shouts, grabbing it from her hands. “Let me see!”

Olive swipes the screen with her finger, swapping the camera to selfie mode. “Look, it’s us!”

“B-but…how?”

“Magic,” Olive replies. “I actually don’t know, I don’t ask questions.”

“Take our picture!” Val demands.

“Shit, alright. Calm it down.”

Olive presses the camera button, the shutter sound startling the three girls who obviously don’t expect it. “Yeah, we’ll delete that one. Try again,” Olive laughs, taking in the still of their shocked faces. 

“I need to print all these,” Olive laughs as she scrolls through about fifty images, finding her favorites amongst the shots. “You girls wanna hear some music?”

“Uh, yeah?!” Helen keenly agrees, Olive hitting play on a downloaded playlist and placing the phone into a glass. 

By the end of the night, they all have preferences: Helen has fallen in love with Elvis Presley, Tattie Spaatz has learned to headbang to AC/DC, and Val has become enamored with 80s era Madonna. 

“What do you think Ev will like?”

“We’ll soon find out. I’ll bring some vinyls from Pearl’s, save using the phone. She still has my dad’s and her records somewhere.”

They hear a soft snore emanating from one of the bunks, Tattie knocked out in her uniform. Helen covers her with a blanket with a giggle, holding a finger to her lips to get everyone to shush. 

“She’s on to something,” Olive yawns. “I’m knackered.”

“Nah-kurred!” Both Val and Helen tease, Val poking Olive softly on the nose.

“Leave it, Yanks!”

“Oooh! Getting bold now?”

“Yep. Now I know we’re stuck together forever, I can now be totally myself.”

“Good,” Val says, planting a kiss on her cheek as she retires to her own bunk. Olive and Helen follow suit, Olive wrapping herself up in Dougie’s jacket and breathing in his scent, wishing more than anything that he was right there beside her. As she snuffles her nose into the collar, she hears the camera shutter click for the final time that night, Val giggling away as she captures Olive curled up.

“Love you,” Olive whispers.

“Love you more.”

Olive lets herself snuggle up and fall fast asleep in minutes. A deep sleep, the sort of sleep she’s sought after for years, the warmth of it sending her into gentle dreams. Those of a future, a comfortable life with a family by her side. A sense of peace and hope washes over her, praying that everything is finally coming up roses.

taglist: @blakelysco-pilot @sagesolsticewrites @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @derry-rain @bobparkhurst @archival-hogwash @lestweforget5 @ptvstvrrr @claireelizabeth85 @butterfly9012

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 18

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 |-| Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: As the war comes to a close, the future is brought into focus.

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58 @justheretoreadthxxs @blakelysco-pilot

Dear Mrs Higgins

Thank you so much for the tea set - Robert and I think it's lovely...

Frankie lifted an envelope to her mouth, running her tongue along the glue as she finished writing the latest in a long line of thank-you letters still in order from the wedding. The formal niceties felt foreign to her, even to write, and a pile of crumpled paper covered the floor by her bed where she had tossed away a litany of spelling mistakes. Rosie had offered his assistance many times, but with all the supply drops he'd been running, she had no desire to burden him with anything else.

Just as she finished signing the most recent letter, the door to the hut slammed open, making her jump and accidentally smudge the ink. "Oh, for fuck's sake, do you have to barge in here like the building's on bloody fire?"

"Frankie, turn the radio on," George huffed, striding towards her.

"Yeah, in a minute - I've got to rewrite this one now, so-"

"Now," She pressed, getting down on her knees to rummage beneath Frankie's bed. "Where is it?!"

"Over there on the window ledge," Frankie frowned, watching as George zipped across the room. "What's going on?"

"Churchill's making an announcement."

"Oh, shit-" She muttered, letter writing immediately forgotten as they fumbled to set up the radio, perched side by side on the edge of the bed as they listened closely. They had made it just in time, and as the familiar, slurring voice came echoing over the waves, a sense of importance seemed to settle over the room - one so potent that Frankie's whole body seemed clenched, her heart struggling to beat out its rhythm in time.

"Yesterday morning at 2.41am at General Eisenhower's headquarters, General Jodl, the representative of the German high command and of Grand Admiral Donitz, 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."

She felt George grab her hand. The words didn't quite seem real - how could they? Surely, they had been coming for a long time, and yet their arrival seemed so sudden, that it was as if Frankie were recalling a dream - peering through a veil into a fiction constructed by her subconscious, frozen in place as if any sudden movement might break the illusion.

She pressed her heels harder into the floor beneath her feet. It was solid. Real.

"Our dear Channel Islands will be free tomorrow. Hostilities will end officially ​at one minute after midnight tonight, Tuesday, the 8th of May, but in the interests of saving lives the ceasefire began yesterday to be sounded all along the fronts."

A bark of laughter escaped her, hand rising to clap over her mouth, suddenly embarrassed by the outburst despite being in the privacy of the hut, in the company of no one but her best friend. Beside her, George had begun to chuckle giddily, unable to wipe the grin from her cheeks.

"The German war is therefore at an end. After years of intense preparation Germany hurled herself on Poland at the beginning of September, 1939, and in pursuance of our guarantee to Poland and in common action with the French Republic, Great Britain, the British Empire and Commonwealth of Nations declared war against this foul aggression."

Blood rushed to her ears, the pounding in Frankie's chest so fierce that she almost struggled to hear the broadcast. Her lungs felt full to burst, pressing against her ribs so hard they could snap. Neither woman felt any need to listen further before collapsing into each other's arms, squeezing so forcefully that it hurt. But they didn't care.

There was no one else Frankie wanted to spend this moment with. Not Bucky, not Ken - not even her husband. There was no one she'd spent more of this war alongside than George - no one who had seen her at so many of her worst moments, no one who had brought her through them quite like she had.

This was the first instant they'd ever spent as friends during peacetime. And now they had to decide what that meant.

"I'm coming with you," George's voice came hoarse over her shoulder. "If you're going to New York, then so am I."

"What about Ev?" Frankie chuckled.

She felt her shrug. "He'll come if I tell him to."

Grinning, she held her even tighter. Weren't they all just following Rosie in the end?

"I need to find him," Frankie uttered.

George nodded. "Me too. Different him. Same sentiment."

They didn't let go for a long moment, breathing in synch. Maybe the war had brought them together, but peace was never going to tear them apart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

An almighty swarm of airmen had gathered outside one of the huts by the time Frankie arrived, having jogged all the way from her own, and the moment she locked eyes on Rosie she was running. Even in the thick of the crowd, his gaze found her without even having to call out, shouldering his way through, beaming so widely that the cool air stung against his teeth. She let out something between a shriek and a whoop, hurling herself into his arms the moment they collided, feet swept off the ground as he spun her once, then twice in the air.

Neither needed to say the words 'it's over' - they knew the other knew, that was good enough. Besides, those words held far too much weight to deal with right now. Those words meant their time here was over - that the future was now.

As Frankie touched the ground again, Rosie's hands cupped her cheeks, littering her face with kisses as she guffawed with laughter. A few of the airmen nearby had taken to whooping and whistling at the sight, and she felt the blood rush to her face, tinting her cheeks a bright red. "Alright, alright," She chuckled, gently batting away his hands as she leaned forward to press a quick peck to his lips.

"Sorry fellas," Rosie called over his shoulder, gaze never leaving his wife for even a moment as he seized her hand, abandoning the makeshift celebration without hesitation.

"We didn't have to go," Frankie pointed out as they walked away, bumping against his side as her free hand wrapped around his arm.

"Well, I wanna celebrate with my wife."

"Oh-ho, say that again," She tittered.

"My wife," He grinned, pressing a firm kiss to her temple. "And when we get outta here I'm gonna buy you a house - hell, I'll buy you anything you want."

"Well, yeah, I'd hope so - we both know I married you for the money," Frankie teased as he ruffled her hair beneath his palm in silent reprisal. They were quiet for a moment until she spoke up again, serious this time. "Dad and the kids don't need me anymore. But... I really loved looking after those kids."

She could feel his stare, fixed on her as they walked. "You been thinking about what you said at the wedding?"

"About a baby? ...Yeah, kinda."

Nerves coloured his voice as he spoke again. "...And?"

Frankie shrugged. "Why not? Yeah."

It hadn't seemed possible that he could grin even wider, and yet somehow he managed it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," She assured him, pulling him into her embrace as his eyes began to well up with tears. Chin tucked over his shoulder, she let herself begin to grin too. "Yeah, honey."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

George's hair blew this way and that as she walked, palms in an endless battle against the wind to smooth it back down again as she muttered to herself, scanning every group she passed for the face she was searching for. Come on Ev, where are you? Many of the men she worked alongside called out to her as she passed, but she was so focused on the task at hand that she offered nothing but the occasional wave, too distracted to properly reply.

"George!" A familiar voice called, an involuntary smile already creeping across her expression in anticipation before she had even pinned down where it was coming from. But then Blakely was hurrying towards her, engulfing her in an embrace so sudden that it was all she could do not to audibly groan. "Ah, I was lookin' for you."

"Hey!" George chirped, holding him tightly. "I was looking for you! I've got something to ask you."

He seemed to grow slightly tense at this. "Yeah, so do I."

Holding onto her cheery demeanour despite the shift in his, she pulled away. "Okay, you first."

Letting out a nervous chuckle, Everett shook his head. "No, no - after you."

"Okay... Look, it's just..." George took a deep breath, hands clasped tightly. "Frankie and Rosie are gonna go to New York together now that this whole thing is done, and I... I wanna go with her, Ev. She's my best friend."

A wave of relief seemed to wash over him as he began to smile. "You wanna go to New York?"

She shrugged. "Yeah."

Blakely began to laugh. "Babe, we can go to New York."

A grin started to crease at George's cheeks. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course," He beamed.

"Okay. Okay, yeah - now you go," She nodded, passing her weight impatiently from foot to foot.

Suddenly he was nervous again, glancing around at the huts and men around them as if self-conscious. "Alright..."

Her brow furrowed. "... You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, just... didn't really plan on doing this here."

George's frown deepened, and Everett couldn't help but wonder how she hadn't caught on yet. "D'you wanna... go over there?"

"George," He laughed in exasperation, digging deep into his pocket as he shook his head. The faintest yelp of surprise escaped her as the diamond ring caught its first glint of sunlight, carefully unwrapped from the handkerchief that had protected it on the long journey from his mother's house.

"Oh, I'm a bloody idiot," She whispered. Raising both hands to cover her mouth, she let out a giddy laugh, beaming before he could even ask the question.

Blakely had begun to grin, pointing down at the ring in his palm as he waited for her to stand still. "Can I-?"

"Yes! Yes." George nodded firmly, planting both feet in the gravel below as she waited for him to ask the question.

"George Aarons," He started, suppressing a chuckle as he noticed the way she had begun to fidget impatiently. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" She cried, her answer tumbling forth so quickly that she almost cut him off completely, throwing herself into his arms as an elated laugh erupted from her throat. Arms wrapped securely around her back, he swept her off her feet for a moment before pulling away to plant a hard kiss against her lips, palms lifted to cup her jaw.

"I love you," George breathed as their lips separated, faces barely an inch apart.

Everett smiled, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you too."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Frankie practically screamed when she first caught sight of George, entering the party as it raged in the officers' club, new engagement ring sparkling on her finger. "Holy shit!" She yelped, practically hurling herself at her best friend as she hugged her. Chin tucked tightly in the crook of George's neck, she scanned the crowd for signs of Blakely, pointing a finger as he stopped in his tracks. "You!"

"Me?"

"Thank you for marrying the love of my life," Frankie nodded sagely, gesturing for him to come close so that she could pat him on the shoulder without leaving George.

His brow furrowed slightly. "... So Rosie would be-?"

"My husband. Duh."

"Of course."

Rosie had recognised her yelp from across the bar, burrowing his way through the crowds in search of Frankie. "Ah. Hey! Congratulations!" He grinned as he spied George's ring, giving Blakely an affectionate clap over the shoulder as they shook hands. "Mind if I steal my wife for this next dance?"

"Steal away," Frankie nodded, planting a forceful kiss on George's forehead as she retracted the hug, leaving a lipstick stain in her wake. As the couple weaved their way back through the crowd, Blakely let out a snort of laughter, wiping the stain away with the heel of his palm.

"Is she-?"

"Oh, really quite drunk, yeah," George affirmed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I never got good at this, huh?" Frankie laughed, uttering a swift apology as she stepped on Rosie's toe. Again.

"Well, I don't think being good is really the point," He shrugged.

"In other words, you agree - I'm horrible at this."

"I didn't say that!"

Frankie gasped. "You're 'yes-dear'-ing me!"

Rosie's brow furrowed, somewhere between confused and entertained. "I don't even know what that means."

"It's when you just go along with whatever I say because I'm your wife and you don't want to have to tell me I'm an insane person to my face."

"Well, I like my crazy wife," He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek as she hummed a chuckle. They continued to step side to side as the music continued its brisk pace, Frankie's expression twisting with embarrassment as she felt his toe beneath her foot once more, the sight of this making Rosie laugh. "We don't have to keep doing this," He offered between chortles.

"No, I'm gonna do it until I get it right, otherwise I'll get shown up every time we go out," She frowned.

"Then you've gotta do it properly," Rosie said, looking down at the floor as he nudged her feet apart with his own. "Feet like that - you step with this one, then bring them together..."

As he continued to explain, Frankie began to realise that she hadn't been listening to a word, too distracted by... well, him. It was still somewhat embarrassing to admit, but if she stared at him for too long everything else seemed to simply ebb away, his voice fading into background chitter as her gaze traced every subtle movement in his expression, her lip rising in a calm, gentle smile.

For so long, this place had gotten used to firing on all cylinders - always working, always preparing for the next thing - never hesitating, never still. But now? Now there was nothing ahead of her - no planes to prep, no mission to agonise over. She was Just Frankie and he was Just Rosie, and everything else was simply cast aside. It was rare she ever got a moment to simply stop and stare - to take in the man before her and simply bathe in the feeling of how wholly and utterly she adored him.

"No, you've- ...Honey, you've stopped moving."

His voice came into focus once more, and Frankie blinked away her stupor, shaking her head slightly. "... Right."

"You okay?" He asked, brow creasing as he tilted his head slightly, a loose curl tumbling free.

"Mhm," She nodded, reaching up without a second thought to brush it away, her warm fingertips still managing to leave a flush in their wake as they grazed against his skin. "Tired. Little too much whiskey. I'm still working my way through the thank-you letters from the wedding."

"Well, I'll help," Rosie shrugged.

"No, no, you're-" Busy with your missions. The words had nearly slipped out without a second thought. And as a grin began to make its way across his face, she knew he'd predicted them.

"No. I'm not."

"No you're not," Frankie repeated, beginning to mirror his smile. "God, we're about to have way too much free time."

"Well, I can think of a couple things to do," He smirked, making her snort with laughter.

"Shush. We'll do that later. I gotta find Bucky," She beamed, giving his arm a tug as she pulled out of his grip, squeezing his hand as she turned away.

Rosie's brow furrowed. "I thought we were dancing?"

"Later!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Flares illuminated the night sky as Bucky sat back in his seat, watching on idly from his perch up on the command tower. Back when this had all started, he would've been inside with the others without a moment's hesitation, drinking and singing and making merry like all the rest. But these last two years had changed him, and that tug in his chest that had once compelled him on nights like this had gone limp.

At least one thing had always stayed the same.

"You fellas need some more booze up there?"

His lip curled in an involuntary smile, craning forward in his seat to peer over the railing. Standing in the grass below, profile brightened in the flickering light of the flares, Frankie stared up at him, a bottle in each hand.

"Get up here, Bevan!" Gale called beside him, letting out that deep, hearty laugh of his. She flashed a grin, the thunder of footsteps rising towards them as she dashed up the stairs, occasionally stumbling from an overindulgence of alcohol.

"Figured you'd be all over your husband tonight, all things considered," Bucky teased, edging over to the edge of his seat so that she could perch beside him.

"He gets me every other day. You and me gotta catch up on lost time."

He smiled, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she popped the cork on the champagne she had stolen, letting out a yelp as bubbles flowed over the brim, covering her hands.

"Before we make any more of a mess, I'm gonna see if I can't find us some glasses," Gale chuckled, stepping around the small puddle of champagne that was forming as he made his way to the door. "You can have my seat, Frank."

"Thanks," She uttered, squeezing Bucky's hand with hers and leaving a sticky palm print behind as she slid off the edge of his chair, sinking into the other.

Left alone, the pair sank into quiet for a long moment, listening peacefully to the cheers and music that hummed steadily from further down the runway.

"How's it feel?" He asked after a while.

Frankie let out a huff of amusement. "Completely, utterly bizarre. I mean... everything in my life changed because of this war, and now it's just... over."

"Which is a good thing. Right?"

"Oh, of course, yunno... I lost family to this thing. Almost all the boys I grew up with are dead now. But then, almost all the best people in my life, I only met because of this war. Hell, I'm married now - I can't just go back to how it was before."

Bucky let out a long sigh, nodding along as she spoke. He stared at the floor for a while, before finally speaking up.

"Y'know... It's gonna sound stupid, but for a little while back then, at the beginning, I kinda thought you and me..."

"Yeah, I know," She nodded, a beat passing before she reached across to grab his hand, holding it in her lap.

They were silent for a moment, letting the weight of Bucky's confession rest between them.

"Your hands are really sticky."

"They are covered in champagne," Frankie snorted, letting out a cackle as Bucky wrestled his hand from her grip, wiping it clean against her skirt. "Oh, you bastard."

"That's what you get."

As their laughter trailed to a stop, she found herself sobering, taking a deep breath.

"Promise me you're not gonna be alone after this. Promise you'll call and visit and find a nice girl to marry, and you won't let yourself go home to an empty house forever."

A flicker of something like adoration crossed his expression.

"Promise."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Gravel crunched beneath Frankie's feet as she finally returned to her hut, the energy that had carried her through the night steadily dwindling. Scrunching her eyes shut as she yawned, a frown began to crease her cheek as her vision readjusted, noticing the door to the hut as it gaped open, exposing the interior to the darkness.

Creeping up towards the entrance, brow furrowed, she tapped her knuckles gently against the doorframe, peering inside. There was only one light in the whole place, and in the warm glow, she could make out a familiar silhouette.

"... Honey?"

Rosie looked up from his spot on the edge of her bed, pen clasped between his fingers as he began to smile at her. "Hey, baby."

She let out a bemused chuckle, stepping inside. "... What're you doing?"

Shrugging, he raised one of the thank-you letters she'd been working on. "You said you needed help with 'em."

Frankie sighed, beaming as she came to stand in front of him. "I didn't mean right now. You should be at the party."

"Party got boring."

"It didn't sound boring."

"You weren't there."

The admission was so earnest that she swore something inside her melted, lifting both hands to loop around the back of his neck. Casting the cards aside, he stared up at her, arms draped around her waist.

"Now I am."

She pressed a long kiss to his scalp, cradling his head in her palms. Rosie let out a satisfied sigh, his thumb rubbing circles against her hip.

"Let's get outta here," He said.

Frankie's brow arched in amusement. "And go where?"

There was a glint in his eye. "Get us a room at the pub?"

"It'll be full by now."

"Well... I did call ahead."

She gasped teasingly. "Oh, you're good."

Rising to stand, he tugged one of her hands away from his neck, pressing a kiss to the back of her palm. He had that look in his eyes, the kind that made her cackle and go terribly red all at once.

"You have no idea."

[bcolfanfic]

hcs about helen, ev and wyatt as a family pls, both before and after they get together!

wyatt is so little when everything is going on with fuckface that in a lot of ways it goes over his head. it *does* leave some the-body-keeps-the-score mental scars that show up more as he gets older. gets startled by loud voices and slamming even if he’s too little to fully understand why those things feel scary.

but when ev gets helen outta that situation and moves her and wyatt into his house on base wyatt is just tickled that they get to live with blake-y now. doesn’t understand why mama’s buddy that came over and played cars with him just, in his little eyes, vanished for a few months out of nowhere.

goes full stage five clinger to him. cries when ev has to go to work which makes big ol softy ev want to cry too. he ends up convincing wyatt to let him take one of his lovies to work that he sticks in his flight training plane so he can take photos for him like this.

which wyatt lovessss. ev is that little boy’s moon and stars outside of his mama and he thinks he’s just the coolest guy in the world.

which makes helen swoon to bc <3 tall gentle giant man with a big heart being a DadTM to my little boy. what girl wouldn’t fall hard and fast!

but she’s still really nerved out about everything, almost even more so now. scared ev only wants her because he feels bad for her or that she’s too damaged for him. breaks ev’s heart when he eventually gets her to tell him that outright bc. he just thinks she’s the best. so kind, and strong and smart and funny and pretty and the best mom to wyatt. makes him itch that she’s been beating herself up thinking he felt anything other than absolute adoration for her.

ev has a really good relationship with his folks and is practically jumping through the phone talking to his ma about it when the dust seems to finally be settling and things are working out. sends her sooo many photos of wyatt and helen and talks so highly of both of them. which makes his mamas heart feel good to bc she knows her ev and knows how much he wanted this w/ helen and wyatt. called her crying that first night he got them away from fuckface all sniffly telling her he didn’t understand how someone so good like helen could end up getting dealt such shitty cards <\3.

best part of his day is coming home to wyatt waiting for him. lil’ guy is always soooo excited to see him, big squeals the second he steps halfway inside the door clamouring for ev to pick him up which he always does. even more special when wyatt starts calling him daddy (: (ev def cries a little the first time he walks through the door to wyatt’s lil voice yelling about daddy being home)

[bandagesandloveletters]

Hi! Hello! Welcome to my Masterlist for my Masters of The Air works. I can't wait to add more and more to the list and, of course, for you all to enjoy!

My inbox is also now open for any questions or requests!!

Ao3. East Anglia's Angels (MoTA OCs)

BoB Masterlist

Harry Crosby

Wildflowers and Chides - (Harry Crosby x reader)

Rosie Rosenthal

Crackling Ember's and Quiet Conversations - (Rosie Rosenthal x Lila Thornton)

John Egan

Coming soon

Ken Lemmons

coming soon

Everett Blakely

coming soon

[starlighttsv]

Oc:

🔮 Blakely Everett Rose Doe - ML

X Reader:

Jealous Jealous Girl - some guy hits on R at UConn’s game against St. John’s and Paige and Azzi do not like that

[1d5soslittlemixonechicago]

Scream 5 & 6 Original character and love interest

Send a request for any of them with a story and title if you want to.

Ethan Landry x Everett Meeks-Martins(OC)

Armani Walker(OC) x Jack Champion

Jesse Hick(OC) x Chad Meeks-Martin

Rudy Anderson(OC) x Mason Gooding

Derek West(OC) x Sam Carpenter

Tyler Hayes(OC) x Melissa Barrera

Blake Barnes(OC) x Tara Carpenter

Matt Caswell(OC) x Jenna Ortega

Mindy Meeks-martin x Kingston Taylor(OC)

Chandler Bassett(OC) x Jasmin Savoy Brown

[the--sad--hatter]

The Weird & The Wonderful - Writing Challenge

I normally wait until the big milestones to do a celebration challenge, but I thought I would bring this one forward for obvious reasons. So this is my 4,400 follower celebration!

The Weird & The Wonderful. Magic, adventure, and just a touch of something sinister. The Prompts come from The Addams Family, Coraline, Alice in Wonderland, Tim Burton etc. Use the prompts how you like, make it funny or romantic, or dark and spooky. Use your imagination and have fun! 

The Weird & The Wonderful Masterlist - Read the finished submissions here. Please remember to like, comment and re-blog the authors hard work! 

Rules –

You do not have to be following me to participate, but ya know… It’d be nice. I’m lovely! Why aren’t you following me?

For the first time, I’m going to accept Dark Fic Submissions. Please tag them appropriately, as with anything that includes smut or potential triggers.

Fandoms – I am opening this up to more than just Marvel fics, please feel free to submit for DC, Arrowverse, The Witcher, Supernatural, X-MEN, The Vampire Diaries. (If you wanna submit for a fandom not mentioned, feel free to ask!)

There are no minimum or maximum word counts but anything over 500 words must have the ‘Read More’ feature please!

This is a reader insert challenge, no OC’s but Specified!Readers are fine. 

If you want to submit anonymously, please email your submission to me at thesadhatterfics@yahoo.com and provide me with a pseud or nickname to post on your behalf.

You can feel free to use the banner I made, if you so choose.

Please tag me in your submission so I can read and reblog. Unless you ask otherwise, I’ll add all submissions to a masterlist.

Absolutely no smut and/or romance for underage characters, this includes ageing up and/or down of characters to get around it. 

Submissions should be in by June 1st 2020.

 Prompts below the cut

Prompts – Please message me HERE to claim your prompt number and let me know who you’ll be writing it for. One prompt per person. In the unlikely event that all prompts are taken, I’ll add more.

 Quote Prompts

1 - “I have no plans to love you. No matter what. You can't make me love you.” Claimed by @myoxisbroken for Loki   2 - “I was kidnapped by aliens, they came down from outer space with ray guns, but I fooled them by wearing a wig and laughing in a foreign accent, and I escaped.” Claimed by @i-have-arrived-bitch for Loki    3 - “The world seemed to shimmer a little at the edges.” Claimed by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for Bucky    4 - "Challenge her. There's no guarantee she'll play fair, but her kind of thing loves games and challenges.” Claimed by @lordofthenerds97​ for Loki   5 - “I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss.” Claimed by @Crowe with Loki   6 - “Last night, you were unhinged. You were like some desperate howling demon. You frightened me. Do it again.”   7 - "I'm just like any modern woman trying to have it all. Loving husband, a family. It's just, I wish I had more time to seek out the dark forces and join their hellish crusade." Claimed by @scarletnerd05​ for The Witcher    8 - “I'm a homicidal maniac. They look just like everyone else.”   9 - "It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then." Claimed by @badsext for Umbrella Academy Characters    10 - "It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!" Claimed by @stareyedplanet   11 - "'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!"   12 - “When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one!”   13 - “Everything in this room is edible. Even I'm edible. But, that would be called cannibalism. It is looked down upon in most societies.”   14 - “One person's craziness is another person's reality.” Claimed by                 @nekoannie-chan​ for Steve Rogers or Rumlow   15 - “I, myself, am strange and unusual.” Claimed by @cateyes315 for Loki    16 - “Good morning starshine! The earth says hello....” Claimed by @buckysknifecollection for Sam Wilson    17 - “You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”

 Song Prompts (Check them out on the Spotify Playlist I made)  (It’s up to you how you interpret and use the song prompt)

18 - The Magic by Lola Blanc

19 - Paint It Black by The Rolling Stones

20 - The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid

21 - Not The Villain by S.J Tucker

22 - An Unhealthy Obsession by Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra

23 - Arsonists Lullaby by Hozier

24 - Control by Halsey Claimed by @official-and-unstable-satan

25 - Hunt You Down by Kesha

26 - I Put A Spell On You by Nina Simone Claimed by @ zandracourt For marvelverse

27 - Lust For A Vampyr by I Monster

28 - White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane

29 - Shatter Me by Lindsay Stirling & Lzzy Hale Claimed by @ brightsun-and-darkmidnight for Loki 

30 - Bad Things by Jace Everett Claimed by @thefifthmaraud3r

[written-in-sunshine]

Fandom List And Ships

Updated: 12/9/18

This is the current list of fandoms and pairings that are requestable. It’s a long list (12+ pages), and I can always add more if the need arises. Bolded fandoms are the ones I am currently in the mood to write for, and I will try to update that as much as I can. Italicized fandoms are something I might consider working on soon and can easily be pushed back into.

Please look at this list before requesting something, it’s in the rules.

Fandoms under the cut!

Adventure Time

Flame Prince/Fionna

Flame Prince/Prince Gumball

Hot Dog Prince/Lumpy Space Prince

Lord Monochromicorn/Cake

Marshall Lee/Flame Prince/Prince Gumball

Marshall Lee/Prince Gumball

As Told By Ginger

Carl Foutley/Blake Gripling

Carl Foutley/Hoodsey Bishop

Assassin’s Creed

Altair Ibn La-Ahad/Malik Al-Sayf

Desmond Miles/Shaun Hastings

Ezio Auditore/Leonardo Da Vinci

Federico Auditore/Vieri De Pazzi

Haytham Kenway/Charles Lee

Kanen'tó:kon/William Johnson

Kadar Al-Sayf/Gian ‘Salai’ Giacomo

Petruccio Auditore/Gian ‘Salai’ Giacomo

Ratonhnhaké ton (Connor Kenway)/Thomas Hickey

Rauf/Kadar Al-Sayf

Talal/Malik Al-Sayf

William Johnson/Thomas Hickey

The Babysitter

Bee/Allison

Bee/Sonya

Cole/Melanie

John/Allison

John/Bee

Max/Allison

Max/Bee

Max/Cole

Max/John

Sonya/Allison

Beetlejuice (Both Movie/Cartoon Verses)

Beatleguise/Lydia Deetz

Camp Camp

Max/Daniel

David/Daniel

Max/David

Max/David/Daniel

Nerf/Preston Goodplay

Neil/Harrison

Neil/Nikki

Quartermaster/Daniel

Catherine

Johnathan ‘Johnny’ Ariga/Tobias ‘Toby’ Nebbins

Orlando Haddick/Tobias ‘Toby’ Nebbins

Orlando Haddick/Johnathan ‘Johnny’ Ariga/Tobias ‘Toby’ Nebbins

Thomas Mutton/Astaroth

Vincent Brooks/Catherine

Vincent Brooks/Astaroth

Crossovers

The Bye Bye Man/The Crooked Man (The Bye Bye Man/The Crooked Man Crossover)

Jack/Max (The House That Jack Built/The Babysitter Crossover)

Jason Dean/Firkle Smith (Heathers/South Park Crossover)

Jason Dean/Lucas Ward (Heathers/Dismissed Crossover)

Jason Dean/Victor Criss (Heathers/IT Crossover)

DC

Bane/John Blake

Blackfire/Starfire

Cyborg/Beast Boy

Deadshot/Diablo/Harley Quinn

Francis “Hotstreak” Stone/Richie “Gear” Foley

Joker/Harley Quinn

Killer Croc/Babydoll

Killer Croc/Diablo

Killer Croc/Harley Quinn

Killer Croc/Scarecrow

Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Raven/Terra

Red X/Speedy

Robin/Beast Boy

Robin/Red X

Robin/Red X/Speedy

Robin/Speedy

Deadman Wonderland

Ganta Igarashi (Woodpecker)/Shiro

Nagi Kengamine (Owl)/Azuma Genkaku

Senji Kiyomasa (Crow)/Toto Sakigami (Mockingbird)

Tamaki Tsunenaga/Rokuro Bundo

Tamaki Tsunenaga/Yo Takami

Wretched Egg (I refer to her as Sorae after Ganta’s mother)/Minatsuki Takami (Hummingbird)

Yo Takami/Ganta Igarashi (Woodpecker)

Death And Cremation

Stanley/Jarod Leary

Devil’s Carnival

The Devil/Tamara

Scorpion/Tamara

The Twin/Hobo Clown

Digimon

Matt/Tai

Willis/Davis

Dragon Age

Alistair Theirin/Cullen Rutherford

Alistair Theirin/Kallianne Cousland

Anders/Ethan Hawke

Anders/Fenris/Ethan Hawke

Anders/Jowan

Anders/Jowan/Ethan Hawke

Anders/Karl Thekla

Anders/Karl Thekla/Ethan Hawke

Anders/Sebastian Vael

Anders/Sebastian Vael/Ethan Hawke

Arishok/Carver Hawke

Arishok/Ethan Hawke

Ashaad/Ketojan/Saemus Dumar

Ashaad/Saemus Dumar

Bartrand Tethras/Carver Hawke

Bemis Cousland/Lysander Amell (OC Ship)

Blackwall/Carver Hawke

Cole/Dorian Pavus

Cullen Rutherford/Dorian Pavus

Cullen Rutherford/Ethan Hawke

Cullen Rutherford/Illeah Lavellan

Cullen Rutherford/Tempestia Surana

Danarius/Dorian Pavus

Duncan/Cailan Theirin

Fenris/Carver Hawke

Fenris/Ethan Hawke

Fenris/Sahir Nadeer (OC)

Greagoir/Irving

Herren/Wade

Jarvia/Isabela

Jowan/Sister(Mother) Petrice

Justice/Seneschal Bran

Ketojan/Saemus Dumar

Leliana/Josephine MontilyetLoghain Mac Tir/Maric Theirin

Meeran/Carver Hawke

Sebastian Vael/Ethan Hawke

The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus

The Iron Bull/Solas

Varric Tethras/Ethan Hawke

Varric Tethras/Merrill

Varric Tethras/Solas

Zevran Arainai/Alistair Theirin

Zevran Arainai/Mortine Mahariel

Dreaming Mary

Boaris/Mary(Mari)

Father/Mary(Mari)

Foxanne/Bunnilda

Gwendell (Glenn)/Mary(Mari)

Ed, Edd, ‘n Eddy

Eddy/Edd

Kevin/Edd

Kevin/Rolf

Johnny/Jimmy

Sarah/Jimmy

The Evil Within

Reuben ‘Ruvik’ Victoriano/Leslie Withers

Sebastian Castellanos/Joseph Oda

Fallout Universe

Barrett/Murphy

Benjamin ‘Benji’ Montgomery/Derek Segraves(MLW)

Butch DeLoria/Derek Segraves(MLW)

Charon/Derek Segraves(MLW)

Charon/Iib Townshend(FLW)

Colin Moriarity/Andy Stahl

Desmond Lockheart/Derek Segraves(MLW)

Everett/Derek Segraves(MLW)

Flash/Derek Segraves(MLW)

Karl/Justin

Mercenary/Moira Brown

Sole Survivor/Sole Survivor

Three Dog/Gob

Timebomb/Derek Segraves(MLW)

Vance/Ian West

Wally Mack/Derek Segraves(MLW)

Wally Mack/Paul Hanon

Walter/Leo Stahl

Fern Gully: The Last Rainforest

Zak Young/Pips

Final Fantasy

Balthier/Vaan

Cloud Strife/Kadaj

Fang/Lightning

Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth

Gilliam ‘Gil’ Blat/Angeal Hewley (OC/Canon Ship)

Gippal/Baralai

Layle/Keiss

Loz/Yazoo

Lulu/Yuna

Paine/Rikku

Reeve Tuesti/Vincent Valentine

Rude/Reno

Seifer Almasy/Zell Dincht

Snow/Hope

Squall Leonhart/Irvine Kinneas

Tseng/Rufus ShinRa

Wakka/Tidus

Zack Fair/Cloud Strife

Gravity Falls

Mabel Pines/Pacifica

Robbie/Dipper Pines

Thompson/Mabel Pines

Wendy/Tambry

Harry Potter (Movieverse) - ON HIATUS

Blaize Zabini/Saemus Finnegan

Dean Thomas/Saemus Finnegan

Lee Jordan/Saemus Finnegan

Oliver Wood/Marcus Flint

Ron Weasley/Draco Malfoy

Severus Snape/Lucius Malfoy

Harry Potter/Hermione Granger

Heathers (Movieverse, Slight Musicalverse)

Jason Dean/Lucas Ward (Dismissed Crossover)

Heather Chandler/Heather Duke

Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer

Jason Dean/Firkle Smith (South Park Crossover)

Jason Dean/Vernon Sawyer (Male Veronica)

Jason Dean/Veronica Sawyer

Jason Dean/Victor Criss (IT Crossover)

Kurt Kelly/Ram

Veronica Sawyer/Heather McNamara

Veronica Sawyer/Martha Dunstock

Hellboy (Movieverse)

Hellboy/Abe Sapien

Hey Arnold

Helga G. Pataki/Rhonda Wellington Lloyd

Nadine/Rhonda Wellington Lloyd

Stinky Peterson/Sid

Torvald/Stoop Kid

Inception

Dom Cobb/Ariadne

Eames/Arthur

Insidious

Josh Lambert/Parker Crane

Josh Lambert/Specs

Tucker/Specs

Invader Zim

Dib Membrane/Zim

Red/Purple

Tak/Gaz Membrane

The Iron Giant

Dean/Hogarth

IT (2017)

Belch Huggins/Victor Criss

Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh

Bill Denbrough/Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh

Bill Denbrough/Beverly Marsh

Bill Denbrough/Stan Uris

Butch Bowers/Patrick Hockstetter

Butch Bowers/Victor Criss

Henry Bowers/Belch Huggins

Henry Bowers/Belch Huggins/Victor Criss

Henry Bowers/Victor Criss

Mike Hanlon/Bill Denbrough/Stan Uris

Mike Hanlon/Patrick Hockstetter

Mike Hanlon/Richie Rozier/Stan Uris/Eddie Kaspbrak

Mike Hanlon/Stan Uris

Mike Hanlon/Victor Criss

Patrick Hockstetter/Avery Hockstetter

Patrick Hockstetter/Belch Huggins

Patrick Hockstetter/Belch Huggins/Victor Criss

Patrick Hockstetter/Henry Bowers

Patrick Hockstetter/Henry Bowers/Belch Huggins

Patrick Hockstetter/Henry Bowers/Belch Huggins/Victor Criss

Patrick Hockstetter/Henry Bowers/Victor Criss

Patrick Hockstetter/Victor Criss

Pennywise/Pennywise

Pennywise/Victor Criss

Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie Tozier/Stan Uris/Eddie Kaspbrak

Jeepers Creepers

Jeepers Creepers/Darry

Kick-Ass/2 Movieverse

Todd Haynes/Katarina Dombrovski

Dave Lizewski/Chris D'Amico

Javier/Chris D'Amico

Kingdom Hearts

Axel/Demyx

Axel/Marluxia

Larxene/Namine

Lexaeus/Zexion

Luxord/Demyx

Luxord/Marluxia

Luxord/Xaldin

Pence/Olette

Rai/Fuu

Riku/Sora

Roxas/Xion

Saix/Demyx

Saix/Xemnas

Seifer/Hayner

Vexen/Marluxia

Xigbar/Demyx

Xigbar/Xaldin

Krampus

Howard/Tom Engel

Krampus/Max Engel

Krampus/Tom Engel

Tom Engel/Max Engel

Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

Claude Faustus/Alois Trancy

Pluto/Grell Sutcliffe

Undertaker/Grell Sutcliffe

Undertaker/William Spears/Grell Sutcliffe

League Of Super Evil

Doomageddon/Doktor Frogg

Red Menace/Doktor Frogg

Left 4 Dead/2

Keith/Dave

Keith/Ellis

Louis/Francis

Nick/Dave

Nick/Ellis

OC/OC

Lollipop Chainsaw

Gideon Starling/Elizabeth Starling

Lewis Legend/Swan

Nick Carlyle/Juliet Starling

Vikke/Josey

Zed/Mariska

Zed/Swan

Mad Max

Angharad/Capable

Dag/Capable

Dag/Cheedo

Dag/Toast

Max Rockatansky/Blood Shed Ted

Max Rockatansky/Imperator Furiosa

Nux/Slit

OC/OC

Rictus Erectus/The Ace

Stank Gum/Scabrous Scrotus

Marvel

Alex Summers/Hank McCoy/Sean Cassidy

Alex Summers/Sean Cassidy

Azazel/Emma Frost

Azazel/Kurt Wagner

Bruce Banner/Tony Stark

Erik Lensherr/Charles Xavier

Hank McCoy/Charles Xavier

Hank McCoy/Sean Cassidy

Lance Alvers/Pietro Maximoff

Loki Laufeyson/Tony Stark

Mortimer Toynbee/Emma Frost

St. John Allerdyce/Pietro Maximoff

St. John Allerdyce/Tabitha Smith

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

The Incredible Hulk/Tony Stark

Todd Tolansky/Kurt Wagner

Todd Tolansky/Pietro Maximoff

Tony Stark/Pepper Pots

Wade Winston Wilson/Bob, Agent Of Hydra

Wanda Maximoff/Anne-Marie (Rogue)

Miraculous Ladybug

Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

The Mist (2017)

Tyler Denton/Adrian Garf

Monster Prom

Amira Red/Miranda Vanderbilt

Amira Red/Polly Geist

Brian Green/Damien LaVey

Brian Green/Damien LaVey/Liam De Lioncourt/Oz Yellow

Brian Green/Oz Yellow

Damien LaVey/Liam De Lioncourt

Liam De Lioncourt/Oz Yellow

Scott Howl/Football Team

Scott Howl/Liam De Lioncourt

Scott Howl/Vicky Blue

Vera Oberlin/Polly Geist

Vicky Blue/Polly Geist

Monsters University/Inc.

Brock Pearson/Claire Wheeler

James P. “Sulley”  Sullivan/Michael “Mike” Wizowski

Johnny J. Worthington III/Randall “Randy” Boggs

Nadia Petrov/Taylor Harbrooke

Night In The Woods

Angus Delaney/Greggory Lee

Bea Santello/Mae Borowski

Casey Hartley/Greggory Lee

Levy/Steve Skriggins

Jeremy “Germ Warfare” Warton/Selma Ann “Selmers” Forrester

Outlast

Edward “Eddie” Gluskin (The Groom)/Terry “Theresa” Harriss (OC)

Portal/2

Adventure Core/Fact Core

Cave Johnson/Caroline

Cave Johnson/Evil Cave Johnson

Chell/GLaDOS

Companion Cube/Turret

Logic Core/Curiosity Core

Weighted Cube/Defective Turret

Wheatley/Space Core

Prince Of Persia: Sands Of Time (Movieverse)

Garsiv/Dastan

Princess And The Goblin

Prince Froglip/Princess Irene

Rick And Morty

Abradolf Lincoler/Nancy

Birdperson/Tammy Gueterman

Brad/Morty Smith

Greaser Morty/Punk Morty

Lucius Needful/Summer Smith

Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith (in all/most incarnations)

Summer Smith/Jessica

Regular Show

Don/Rigby

Mordecai/Rigby

Skips/Benson

Rocket Power

Lars Rodriguez/Twister Rodriguez

Otto Rocket/Sam Dullard

Saw

John Kramer/Amanda Young

Lawrence Gordon/Adam Faulkner

Logan Nelson/David (Saw .5)

Lukas Faulkner (OC)/Adam Faulkner

Lukas Faulkner (OC)/David (Saw .5)

Lukas Faulkner (OC)/Scott Tibbs

Lynn Denlon/Amanda Young

Mark Hoffman/Peter Strahm

Scott Tibbs/Adam Faulkner

Scott Tibbs/Lark

Silent Hill

Butcher/Valtiel

Pyramid Head/Alessa Gilespie

Walter Sullivan/Murphey Pendleton

South Park

Bradley (Cartman Sucks)/Leopold “Butters” Stotch

Christophe “Ze Mole”/Firkle

Christophe “Ze Mole”/Kyle Broflovski

Christophe “Ze Mole”/Leopold “Butters” Stotch

Clyde Donovan/Bebe Stevens

Craig Tucker/Gregory of Yardale/Tweek Tweak

Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak

Damien Thorn/Firkle

Damien Thorn/Phillip “Pip” Pirrup

Eric Cartman/Bebe Stevens

Eric Cartman/Firkle

Eric Cartman/Wendy Testaburger

Filmore Anderson/Firkle

Gregory of Yardale/Tweek Tweak

Ike Broflovski/Firkle

Kenny McCormick/Bradley (Cartman Sucks)/Leopold “Butters” Stotch

Kenny McCormick/Firkle

Kenny McCormick/Kyle Broflovski

Kenny McCormick/Leopold “Butters” Stotch

Kevin McCormick/Firkle

Michael/Pete

Michael/Firkle

Mike Makowski/Firkle

Mike Makowski/Larry

Nathan/Firkle

Quaid/Filmore Anderson

Quaid/Firkle

Red/Henrietta Biggle

Ryan Ellis/Larry

Scott Malkinson/New Kid

Scott Tenorman/Firkle

Stan Marsh/Firkle

Stan Marsh/Gregory Of Yardale

Stan Marsh/Pete

Stan Marsh/Gary Harrison

Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger

Trent Boyett/Firkle

Token Black/Clyde Donnovan

Token Black/Clyde Donnovan/Bebe Stevens

Team Fortress 2 (I have OC’s for this)

Demoman/Soldier

Engineer/Medic

Heavy/Medic

Pyro/Medic

Pyro/Scout

Pyro/Sniper

Sniper/Medic

Sniper/Scout

Soldier/Engineer

Spy/Scout

Spy/Sniper/Scout

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Leonardo/Donatello

Raphael/Casey Jones

Raphael/Michelangelo

Until Dawn

Billy Bates/Mike Munroe

Josh Washington/Chris

Josh Washington/Mike Munroe

Matt/Chris

Matt/Mike Munroe

Matt/Mike Munroe/Jessica/Sam/Billy Bates

Mike Munroe/Jessica

Mike Munroe/Sam

The Walking Dead

Glen Rhee/Daryl Dixon

Merle Dixon/Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes/Daryl Dixon

We’re Back

Louis/Cecilia Nuthatch

Yami No Matsuei/Descendents Of Darkness

Hisoka Kurosaki/Asato Tsuzuki

Seiichiro Tatsumi/Yutaka Watari

Zootopia

Chief Bogo/Benjamin Clawhauser

Finnick/Gideon Grey

Larry/Gary

Nick Wilde/Judy Hopps

Pronk Oryx-Antlerson/Bucky Oryx-Antlerson

[softspeirs]

May I request for the taking care of a tired lover prompt,  Blakely x Marie + ²⁾ “you’re going to bed, even if i have to carry you there myself.”?

A/N: Love this so much. Ev Blakely, your soft spot is showing! This is the first thing I've written in weeks and I felt I struggled with it a lot, so please let me know what you think of it! Thanks to @mercurygray for helping me out with the plot!

The music is loud in the pub tonight, and Ev Blakely is fighting off a pounding headache. He has been working 12 to 13 hour days for the last week, and he wants to go bed, but instead he's been dragged here, his friends insistent that he have a drink and try to relax.

Fat chance of that.

He knows he's being sour. He's not good company, and he doesn't miss the way Dougie is looking around, searching for anyone who's more willing to carry on a conversation.

Loud, female laughter from the other side of the pub grabs his attention, and he watches, amused, as Helen and a few of the other Red Cross ladies try to convince a girl he doesn't recognize to go dance with them.

His gaze is drawn to Fernandez, nearby. She's smiling, but it's tired, and he frowns at the circles under her eyes.

He's been seeing it in too many of his friends, and he's sure he looks much the same. Still, he doesn't like it.

"Are you listening to me?" Dougie elbows him.

"Yeah, yeah." Ev says, turning to his friend. "Just-- noticing that no one really seems in a party mood."

Douglass shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. "Because no one around here has gotten more than a few hours of sleep in a week."

The invasion is looming and they all know it. It's been nothing but planning and planning and more planning, and in the middle of it, they're still flying raids like there's nothing more imminent coming.

Underneath it all is the undercurrent, their missing friends, who they all think about but no one talks about. They don't say their names, they don't leave a spot for them in the bunks, and they don't talk about the months-old letters that finally showed up a few weeks ago.

At least they know they're alive. Doesn't do anything to help morale though, especially not when forts are still going down every day.

He can't even remember the name of the kid who introduced himself this morning and went down in the afternoon. It makes him feel sick.

"You need a drink, and then you need to sleep." Dougie says with finality. "Be right back." He stands, headed towards the bar.

Ev taps a rhythm on the table, and his attention is drawn across the room again at a loud cheer and more laughter. This time, he sees Marie on her feet, drink in hand, a little unsteady on her feet. Her usually perfectly coiffed hair is a little loose and untidy, and something about the distant look in her eyes puts him on edge.

It's none of your business, he tells himself. But then there's some guy there. Some guy is there and leaning into her space, and he either can't see the way she leans far in the other direction, or he doesn't give a shit, and he Ev can't really stand it anymore.

He doesn't want to be here anyway, so he might as well use this as an excuse to get gone, even if it's going to get him yelled at.

His feet are moving before he can think too hard about it, and then he's there, inserting himself. "Steady on, Fernandez," he says quietly, getting her attention. "You all right?"

Her eyes narrow at him. He thinks it's just instinct at this point.

"Fine. Long day. You, Major?"

"Going to call it a night. Might want to think about doing the same, yeah?"

She makes a face. "I just got another drink!" She protests. "From my new friend--" She looks up at the other man, eyebrows furrowing.

"Carmichael." He supplies. "Tom Carmichael."

"Tom." She parrots, and Ev tightens his jaw.

"Uh huh. Look, when's the last time you got any sleep, huh? I'm headed that way with Dougie, we'll walk you--"

"Do you remember that you're not the boss of me?" She asks primly.

Christ. "Yes. You made it really crystal clear."

"Good. So leave me alone, and I'll decide when it's time for me to go to bed."

He knows it's not his place, and he truly doesn't want to overstep. Now that he works more closely with her, he's tired of the constant bickering, but something just doesn't sit right with him, leaving her here like this. It's out of character for her to be in her cups, and even though she deserves it, he doesn't like it.

"Maybe you should listen to Major Blakely, Marie?" Tatty asks quietly from beside her. "It's been a long day."

Marie watches her friend and her face softens, just a fraction. It changes her so completely, Ev is almost taken aback by it. He’s only seen glimpses of her like this.

It makes something protective rise up in him again when he sees Tom lean in.

“We’ll finish our drinks and I’ll see her back.” He says with a tone of finality.

It’s not Ev’s place. It’s not, and so he holds up his hands. “Alright. Not a hair out of place, Carmichael.” His tone is genial, but he means it.

He meets Douglass back at their table. He accepts the beer handed his way and takes a long swig, trying to ignore the feeling that’s taken residence in his gut.

.

An hour later and he can barely keep his eyes open. The band is still going, but the crowd is petering out, and he’s on his feet ready to head to bed.

He’s halfway out the door when he sees her and stops in his tracks.

Marie is alone at the table, an empty glass in front of her. Her chin is in her hands and she looks half asleep. She’s watching the few couples still on the dance floor with a tiny smile and he can’t help but walk over to her table, taking a seat to her left.

“Good night?”

She blinks at him. “Yeah. It was all right.”

“Time to go, Fernandez. You’re running yourself ragged.” His voice is serious, hoarse with exhaustion.

“Speak for yourself,” she says with a raised eyebrow. Her words are slow from drink and the glassy look in her eyes makes his stomach clench.

“You’re going to bed if I have to carry you there myself, Marie.” He says quietly. “You deserve a break.”

She sighs. The fight leaves her. “Fine. Walk me? You can hold this.” She shoves her purse in his direction and then she’s on her feet before he can protest.

The night air is blessedly cool when they emerge, a low fog dragging itself across the fields and runways. She stops, eyes closing for a second. “It’s almost beautiful like this.” She says.

He hums. “You know what else is beautiful?”

She turns to him, surprised, a blush working its way across her cheeks.

“My bed.” He says firmly. “Those cotton sheets, my shitty, flat pillow…” He laughs at the look on her face, at the way she thought he was going to say something else.

And he could have - he could have made it obvious that he was watching her admire the sight before them instead of taking it in himself, he could have told her that he’s noticing more and more about her lately and that she’s never lovelier than when she’s yelling at him.

But he won’t. Because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, and he won’t do that to her. Or to himself.

“I’ll remember that, Major.” She says, walking ahead of him.

He catches up to her, slinging one arm around her shoulders, her exasperated sigh and his chuckles following them all the way back to her billet.

[blakelysco-pilot]

I couldn’t let November 8th go by without acknowledging Val’s birthday. So with that said, I wrote a little something for The Gal on her special day. I hope you all enjoy it! 💗

“Is she still sleeping?”

“Yes, and by the looks of it, not planning on joining the land of the living any time soon.”

“Shh, be quiet or he’s going to startle and she’s going to be pissed.”

Crowded onto one bed, Olive, Helen and Tattie sat watching as Val continued to snooze peacefully. Curled up on her own bed with Meatball tucked up against her side, the three women waited patiently for her to wake up. Murmuring softly, Val snuggled closer to the Husky, a soft sigh escaping her as she continued to dream.

“Oh Ev, that’s nice…”

Unable to hold in her laughter at that, Olive let go of a cackle that echoed through their hut, her eyes wide as Tattie slapped a hand over her mouth. It was no use; the sound had startled Val awake, and caused Meatball to huff indignantly before jumping from the bed and trotting over to Tattie’s to curl back up on. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Val stopped when she saw all three of her friends watching her with smiles on their faces.

“Uhm… Why are you three watching me? Was I drooling?”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

“Oh Jesus, shush!” Val winced, their shouting and the lack of coffee too much for her first thing in the morning.

“Nooo, no,” Olive shook her head, coming to pull Val from the warmth of her bunk. “Today’s your birthday Chicken! Time to get up!”

“But it’s warm under my blankets!”

“There’s a handsome pilot waiting to walk you to breakfast.” Helen sing songed, coming to help Olive pull her from the bed.

“What about-”

“Not today,” Tattie smiled. “Today, you have a nice breakfast with Blakely. We can handle the truck, no one’s going up today.”

“You’re giving me a day off, Tat?”

“He asked nicely, what can I say?” She grinned, watching as Helen and Olive successfully pulled her from the bed.

Stumbling to the bathroom, Val made quick work of washing up before coming back out to put on her makeup and take out her rollers from the night before. Checking her watch, she knew she had about fifteen minutes before Ev would knock on the door of their hut, and she didn’t want to keep him waiting. She methodically pinned her hair before applying her lipstick and rouge, catching sight of Helen in the mirror laying out her dress uniform instead of her regular jumpsuit.

“Thanks Hel.” she smiled at her in the mirror, the brunette beaming back at her.

“You’re welcome. Hey, do you always dream about Ev when you’re cuddling the dog?”

“You know,” Val heaved a sigh as she stood to get dressed. “When I asked if I was drooling, you three conveniently left that part out.”

“Oops!” She giggled as Val narrowed her eyes, the top of a crush cap went past the windows above their beds. “Better hurry and get dressed, birthday girl, your man is here.”

And so the day had started with loud declarations of wishes from her three best friends before she was whisked away to the Officers Mess for breakfast with Everett. She hadn’t griped about the powdered eggs that morning. She was working on accepting that she was the one having coffee poured for her. It was something that was not lost on Ev as the kind gentleman who served in the Officers Mess approached them, a small pot in hand. Her eyes had gone wide when he asked her if she wanted another cup, and Ev had nodded encouragingly before she had replied yes, please. They had chatted quietly over toast; of birthdays past and traditions back home. If you wiped away the setting around them, they were just a man and a woman having a quaint breakfast, celebrating a special day that wasn’t tainted by the war. And when Everett pulled the keys to a jeep from his pocket, childlike glee on his face as he held his hand out to her, she knew that he was just one more birthday tradition she would get to enjoy as the years went on.

He had spent the day walking through town with her, indulging her every time she pulled him into a shop. He stood back and watched as she browsed the small makeup counter in the general store, encouraging her to pick something she liked so that he could treat her for her birthday. He had simply smiled as he handed a few notes to the woman working the counter before handing the package to Val, who tucked it into her purse with a smile. She had balked when he pulled her into the bakery, insisting on splitting something since he couldn’t get her a birthday cake. And by the time dusk had fallen, they were seated at a table in the pub for dinner. The owner of the Half Moon Pub grinned when he spotted them, pointing over to the corner of the room where Val was expecting a table for her and Everett, but stopped in her tracks when she found that all of their friends were already there waiting for them.

“Hey, there she is!”

“It’s the birthday girl!”

“About time, I was getting hungry!”

The pair squeezed into two empty seats, Olive and Doug on one side, Helen and Rosie on her right. Tattie and Jack sat across from her, with the rest of Rosie’s crew and Croz filling in the gaps. She was missing so many people around this table, and yet, the ones who did fill the seats made it their mission to remind her of how loved she was, and how much she did have in her life despite the missing pieces. And so they ate, and drank, and drank some more, the conversation never ending even as the pub grew louder around them. So loud that she didn’t notice Doug whispering something to Ollive, who nudged Tattie, while she was laughing at something Pappy was saying. She didn’t recognize the distraction of Croz telling her all about what Jean was getting up to back home, until the person who had been playing the piano in the pub began playing Happy Birthday, and Tattie was placing three very familiar looking donuts stacked onto a plate in front of her. Dougie’s zippo was alight in her hand, and the entire pub was singing to her.

“Nooo, come on you guys!”

“Happy birthday dear Vaaaaal! Happy Birthday to youuuuu!”

“Oh my god, this is way too much!”

“Oh, blow out the lighter and make a wish, Chicken!” Olive had crowed from her seat next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into a hug.

“Fine, okay, okay…” with a deep breath, she closed her eyes and made her wish, though she was sure everyone at the table knew what she was wishing for. “Thank you, I mean it, this has been such a nice day.”

“You deserve it.” Tattie grinned, tossing the lighter back to Doug.

“Yeah, we all love you, DiRosano.”

“Is that sentiment I see in your eye, Jack?” She had narrowed her own eyes at him, unable to stop from laughing when he rolled his eyes, Tattie placating him with a pat on the back.

“Yes it is, now, enjoy it while it lasts. Tomorrow I go back to being the Wicked Air Exec of the Control Tower.”

“Does that make the boys your flying monkeys?” Helen sniggered, causing Croz to choke on his drink as the rest of the table around them laughed.

Everyone fell into easy conversation, the donuts picked over by the group as the drinks continued to flow and music continued to play. The other girls had broken off to dance with the respective fellas, Rosie and Croz each taking Helen for a spin so that she wouldn’t feel left out. Val just caught Ev standing, offering her his hand so that he too, could take a turn on the dance floor with her.

“You know,” she murmured, lips pressed to his ear as he gently swayed them. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” he replied. “But, I wanted to.”

“I would have been perfectly content with dinner in the mess hall and dancing in the Officers Club.”

“I know that too.”

“Hey Ev?”

“Yea sweetheart?”

“Thank you,” pulling her face from where she was nuzzled against him, she was beaming as he caught her gaze, and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her full on the mouth, with everyone around them. “I love you…”

“Not nearly as much as I love you, pretty.”

After two more songs, she caught him passing the keys to the jeep they had come to town in over to Dougie, who pocketed them and gave him a wink.

“Can I give you your present now?”

“My- what? You did so much today, that was my present wasn’t it?”

“It was, but I have one more thing for you.”

“Everett!”

“So?”

“Yes,” she conceded with a smile. “But I’m telling you now, it’s too much,”

“Come with me.” He grinned, taking her hand and leading her towards the back of the pub, away from their friends and the crowd, towards the stairs that led upstairs to the rooms.

Letting her go first, she climbed the stairs carefully, waiting for him to join her and explain what they were doing up there. Turning, she caught his gaze as he joined her at the top of the stairs, pulling a key from his breast pocket and moving to one of the doors.

“Are we… did you?”

“Are we staying here? Yes we are.”

“Are you crazy! You spent more than enough money on me today!”

“Would you stop, please, and let me spoil you just a little bit?” He opened the door and ushered her in ahead of him before he closed it behind them, locking it so they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“This is way more than spoiling me, Everett!”

“Just you wait till the war is over and we get home, then we’ll see about really spoiling you.”

“That’s my purse,” she spotted her bag sitting on the small desk in the corner. “And your jacket.”

“Very good,” he teased. “You’d make a great spy.”

“Olive and Doug…”

“Yes, now, get comfy, because we have the whole night to ourselves, and if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to spend it curled up with you.”

“Oh, that is not too much to ask at all, Major.”

And so they found themselves under the patchwork blanket that covered the double bed, the mattress just soft enough that it was like sleeping on a cloud compared to what Thorpe Abbotts was passing off as mattresses. The window was cracked, letting in just the right amount of a breeze, and the small lamp on the night table was the only light in the room. Their soft breaths were the only sound that filled the gaps between light conversation. Just two people wrapped in each other's arms with the promise of the future, and a birthday wish that Val hoped would come true.

“Your present is still waiting to be unwrapped.”

“Don’t need it.”

“But…”

“Tomorrow…” she murmured happily, face pressed against his chest, the soft smattering of hair just under her cheek. “Right now, I’ve got everything I need right here in this bed.”

“Okay baby, if that’s what you want.”

Just as she was beginning to doze, sleep tugging at her gently, Val couldn’t help the contented sigh that passed from her lips, shuffling down under the blankets and holding on to Everett just a little bit tighter.

“So much better than the dog…”

Tag List: @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @therealslimshakespeare @beingalive1 @ptvstvrrr @lestweforget5

[wexhappyxfew]

saw you were taking prompts and am having absolute carrie x dougie brainrot! maybe something with “i can stay the night, y’know. if it’d make you feel better.” or really whatever you see fit for them!

I just think that have such a fun and interesting dynamic that i’m OBSESSED with.

HELLO LOVELY ANON!!!! :) apologies that i am now months late to this prompt - but i am happy to say, i have an incredibly fun piece written in response!!! this has gone through a few iterations i won't lie - with some of the pieces of writing most likely incorporated into other pieces in the future! BUT - for now, please enjoy my take on this prompt. thank you SO MUCH for the love on carrie and dougie! i have so much fun writing them and their entire dynamic and THANK YOU so much for loving on them!!!! carrie x dougie brainrot is REAL!!!! <33333 PLEASE ENJOY!!!!! :D

stay the night

(a/n): carrie x dougie, with a hint of angst, featuring a smidge of episode 5 in all its sad, grief-filled, angsty glory. if you squint, you can get some vivian x blakely in there as well - a prelude to them and an upcoming piece! <3 if you want to read a piece for a bit of an idea as to what both carrie and dougie discuss in the second half of this piece, highly recommend didn't think you'd notice as a starter! as always, please enjoy! carrie x dougie here fill my heart with all good stuff! :)

Carrie's head had begun to nod off at the bar.

Between the highest levels of exhaustion she'd been feeling in ages, the numbing realization that hundreds of men were being lost everyday, and a few piloting crews were out 50% of their men, meant she was on edge now more than ever.

And to top it off, Blakely's crew was missing - no one had seen them go down, nor had anyone seen their plane come back. And it'd been two days.

Everyone was feeling some sort of pain that they were trying to push away with light music, a little alcohol and the remaining crews.

After the Silver Bullets crew was split up, much to the highest distaste and dislike of both Annie and Francis; Annie, Bessie, Kennedy and Margie had gotten transferred to a new plane crew - co-ed. First of it's kind.

They were spread thin, they needed vets with the rookies. Some people got the short end of the stick - where there was no more flying and simply the Operation room as their closest companion.

That was Carrie.

Staring at maps all day, marking bombing runs with some of the navigators, filling holes where they were needed. She wasn't a map-keeper, she was a goddamn bombardier. But she didn't even bother to open her mouth.

Stress was high, tensions thick and everyone was trying to keep it together around her it seemed.

Annie was usually flying in the air or on training duty or in meetings more often than not, staving away any sort of reality that there was at this time.

Francis was nowhere to be found unless she was needed on a mission with her own co-ed flying death trap.

Bucky was gone to England with no idea that Buck, alongside DeMarco, were both MIA, along with Margie doing everything it seemed to ignore the obvious.

Judy was placed into a new crew - Rosie's Riveters - and every time Carrie saw her, squeezed the living daylights out of that poor girl when she could. Judy was a little sister to all of them. Knowing she was separated from the rest of the crew, Carrie considered going to church.

Marianne was stuck in Operations with Carrie - and she always brought Frank - which seemed to be the highlights of peoples' days when that fat orange cat would come around. Though, Marianne was fighting sleep most days, the stress becoming far too much for all of them.

Paulina was still Radio Ops, but she wasn't flying anymore - days and nights she spent beside Operations, translating and recording and writing until her hands damn-near broke.

Now, she was nursing a beer, cuddled up beside Hambone Hamilton across the bar, talking in the quietest voice anyone had ever heard from the woman. They were really all going through it.

And on top of all that, Vivian Ratcliff was spiraling beside Carrie this fine evening, trying not to lose her mind. Everyone knew how rough it was for her after losing James - they were supposed to get married, she wanted to have kids with him, he was planning to pop the question after the war.

Ev Blakely had become a good friend to her, a real good friend, probably closer than either of them had thought or even seen coming, but now, she was onto her second beer and sitting there with nothing but tears in her eyes and a blank face. Carrie was going to tell her to finish her drink and head to bed soon by this point; it hurt Carrie to see Viv like this. Ever since coming to England, it's been bad spell after bad spell for the waist gunner.

"Holy shit, it's Blakely's crew!"

Carrie's whole body froze. There were cheers and yelling and voices and a clammer of footsteps along the wooden floor to her left and she slowly turned her head to see, there coming through the door was Blakely, Crosby and Douglass. Carrie couldn't move, watching as guys hugged one another, slapped each other on the back and fell into their normal banter routine of laughter, cackles and drink offerings.

Carrie could only watch. And her eyes fell specifically right to Douglass. Stood there, his hair unruly, a few bloodied scars on his face, a wide smile on his lips as he laughed and eyes so soft she was sure if she could get her legs moving, she would be over there right now, trying to keep it together.

Carrie watched the group disperse, drinks a promise from Brady and Crank, and took to watching Dougie who was offered a beer which he took with a smile, before his eyes started roaming around. Her heart began to pound inside of her chest. Before-

"Ev!" Carrie looked up and over and watched as Vivian had looked up, jaw dropping open, a few stray tears lingering in the corners of her eyes, as she slid off the stool and hurried over towards Blakely. Carrie's heart warmed as her eyes tore off of Dougie to watch as Blakely whipped his head around, a grin blowing up on his face like some sort of hot air balloon, pushing through a few of the guys to meet Viv halfway.

When they met, it was a sort of bone-crushing looking hug, with her arms wrapped around his neck and Blakely's….rather-large form cocooning Viv against him there.

Carrie watched as Viv's form trembled a bit against him - she was sure Viv was shedding a few tears that she'd been trying her best to hold in the last few days - and watched as Blakely said something clearly enough to make her laugh.

And then, Carrie was looking over towards Dougie again, and found his eyes already on her. A beer bottle halfway to her lips and her eyes blown wide open, she slowly placed the bottle down and awkwardly lifted her hand to wave.

Why the hell was she waving?

The man had probably just seen death and she decided to wave?

Lowering her hand, she watched as Dougie smiled at her, offering a small wave her way. He knocked Brady in the shoulder, stood beside him and then began walking over towards her, a small grin riding his face.

Briefly, incredibly briefly in Carrie's mind, she remembered that feeling of kissing Dougie - and the fact that immediately afterwards, she had been pulling herself from him, mumbling about being drunk, and then avoiding him the entirety of the rest of the night. Only for the mission to be called that night, and she had found herself disappearing for the night to her cot, not telling a soul that she had been kissing James Douglass just an hour previous.

And when the news had broke that Blakely's plane had disappeared and gone down? And she hadn't said a goddamn word to Dougie the next morning, promptly ignoring him, she found herself ripped with guilt.

And now - he was here, he was back and standing right in front of her, and her only thought was that she was speechless. She didn't know what to say in that moment, and was having a rather hard time deciding if she should be upset or angry or overjoyed or pissed off.

She couldn't sort it out.

And with him standing here, after those two days, she was half-convinced she could just kiss him on the mouth and it'd be better than any other reaction she could've had.

"Hi." he said.

"Hi." she found herself saying back, fighting to say more, but keeping her walls up and closed in on every inch of herself. She was pissed the plane had gone down, that she had allowed herself to be beyond worried sick for him. She was pissed she had let herself feel like that. She was pissed he was standing here now and she was speechless and didn't have more to say.

Carrie stared at his face a little while longer, those bloodied scars along his face, his unruly hair, his kind eyes. She felt her heart begin to race.

"You should get those cuts looked at." she said quickly, her voice sounding choppy, her tone sounding fake. She sounded out of place, nervous, and flustered. She didn't sound like her.

"I will." he said with a smile, before drifting his eyes over her form and meeting her gaze again.

"Are you okay?" she asked, almost mechanically, "When I heard-"

"All good." he said, his fingers twitching near his hip, "You?" Carrie's face grew hot.

"Me?" she choked out, clearing her throat, "Fine, fine, I…I should be making sure you are." Her heart was beginning to pound harder inside her chest.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked her, before dropping his voice, "Somewhere not here?" She blinked, feeling her face turn a deeper red, before slowly nodding.

"Yeah." she said quietly, taking one more sip of beer before slowly moving to her feet, closing a few inches between them, the space between their faces minute for a split second before she stepped away from the bar, "Where to?"

"We can go outside." he said, meeting her eyes before patting the bar table and turning.

Following him out of the room and to the darkened outside world made her feel dizzy - she was sweating, red in the face, hyperaware of his presence, the way he had looked at her, and every single urge she had felt upon seeing him. Dougie stepped outside and she followed him around the corner of the hut, where for the time being, they were hidden from anyone's view.

For a moment, all they did was stare at each other, listening to the quiet rumble of their breathing, the distant voices, the chirping of mid-fall crickets and bugs holed up in trees. In the dark, she found it easier to breathe than when she had been stood inches from him at the bar.

The anticipation was killing her on the inside in every way possible - the lack of speaking (something not at all normal for either of them), they way all they could seem to do was stare (which yet again, was not normal), and the way Dougie was watching her now (she couldn't get her mind to work).

"I thought you were dead." Carrie said - quickly - her voice sounding rushed, as she met his gaze, "When they told us the plane hadn't made it back. And that the others had gone down, gotten hit. After hearing about Major Cleven's plane-"

"Carrie." Dougie said, stepping forward and gently placing his hands on her shoulders, "It's okay." He offered a small smile. "We're here now." Carrie watched him, the feel of his hands on her shoulders, his gaze on her, body inches from her own.

"But you know it's more than that." Carrie found herself saying as she stood there, "You know that." For a moment, Dougie just watched her - as if a bit dumbfounded and confused.

"Whatever is going on between us," Carrie managed out, shakily meeting his eyes, "I can't deal with it. It's suffocating. When I heard the plane had disappeared over IP - that you were on that plane. You, Dougie. I couldn't breathe." She blinked rapidly for a moment.

"Knowing the way we'd left things, and how I'd left things and now you're standing here in front of me and I'm blabbering like an idiot." Carrie said, "And I could barely sleep because I felt so guilty that I'd just left you there and then thought you had died. But now you're standing here and still alive and I….." She trailed off and grew quiet, before meeting his gaze. She knew something was wrong with her because the longer she stared at Dougie's calm and rather composed face, the more she could feel herself calming down. The presence of his hands, his eyes, him.

"I know." Dougie said quietly, taking a small step forward between them, that small smile on his face growing as she peered up into his eyes, "You okay? Don't need you losing your breath, huh?" Carrie managed a crack of a smile on her lips, before she found her eyes welling with tears.

"You're just saying that to not rile me up." she managed out, hoping her attempt at a joking tone was evident.

"Oh am I?" he asked with a laugh, his warm hand appearing on her cheek, his thumb brushing over the scars left behind from her time in the sky, left behind by the war, the memories scathed across her face, "You think that's what I'm trying to do?"

"It's usually what you're trying to do." she whispered, eyes flicking to his lips for a brief moment before meeting his gaze upwards again, "You're just like that."

"With you I am." he said, his face lingering closer, his dark eyes inviting her into him it felt.

"With me?" she whispered, her hands finding their way to the front of his B3, gripping the leather tightly as she stared up at him with a slightly watery gaze, "So, you do it just to piss me off?"

"Sometimes." he said with an almost surprised, gruff chuckle to follow that made her heart twist, "I also know it makes you laugh so…."

"Makes me laugh, huh?" she whispered as his other hand traveled down to her waist, his grip tight as he watched her in the darkness, "Not always."

"How so?" he whispered back, "I know you, Bergie." Carrie watched him - and she could feel her insides calm. It was true. He did know her. He really did. Just like in this moment.

He knew her.

With Dougie pressed so close to her, his gaze persistent in front of her own, her own eyes scoring the blood across his face, the damage of war done to someone she wanted to protect suddenly with her life, she couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh.

"What're you laughing at now?" he whispered, "I didn't even get the chance to say anything funny." Carrie laughed again and shook her head.

"You know the first time I met you, I couldn't stand that carpet on your face?" Carrie whispered quietly, "I thought it looked like a squirrel, or….I don't know…a mangled bird." Dougie let out a laugh.

"A mangled bird, are you crazy?" he whispered, his thumb brushing on her cheek as his grin grew.

"Maybe." she whispered back.

"At least Ev appreciates the 'stache." he said and Carrie chuckled at his words, before going quiet, simply gazing up at his eyes, her own smile growing.

"What?" he asked her, "You always got that look on your face, you know that? When you look at me."

"I know." she whispered, her smile growing, her boldness flickering at the edges. Dougie watched her, his tender eyes quiet and content, and Carrie was sure she could spend the rest of the night simply staring at his face, memorizing that look in his eyes, the closeness of his face, all those little bits of his eyes you never saw until you were up close. She almost couldn't take the pounding of her heart anymore.

"I had wanted to kiss you, by the way," Carrie said quietly, "when we had danced together. And I guess….it scared me what it could mean. Especially during the war. And then it sort of came true. The possibility of losing you then. After they told me." Dougie smirked at her, before leaning closer to her, his eyes looking tired and lazy, his smile wide.

"Fuck the war." he whispered, before he leaned forward fully, his lips meeting hers.

It was a desperate kiss, she will admit fully - especially from herself. Clinging onto him, hands curled into the front of his B3, trying to pull him as close as she could, her mind a scattered array of thoughts as all she could focus on was his lips on her own.

Of course, the first time it had happened, she had been slightly buzzed, a little out of sorts, and taken off guard. Yet she had enjoyed every second.

Now, it was familiar, comfortable and safe. And she had never felt more wanted. It felt as if there was a million unsaid words between them in this moment, rooted in passion, desperation and grief that couldn't be described in any other way. Her hands were in his hair at one point, his cradling her face, her heart continuing to pound inside her chest. She felt out-of-body, like she didn't know what was happening to her.

When they had pulled apart, faces still inches from each other, trying to catch some sort of breath in this moment, all Carrie could do was stare up at him.

"What?" he asked her, his voice rich with warmth and what nearly felt like adoration in his tone.

She couldn't seem to get words in her mind and out of her mouth.

She was in love, she knew that much.

Softly, she gave him a gentle kiss before pulling back.

"Nothing to worry your pretty little face about." she whispered, as he chuckled. In that quiet moment, where they could only just watch the other, a soft red lit clicked on somewhere around the corner, near the door to the flying club. It hit the side of Dougie's face gently, and in a sinking realization, she saw the smile on his face drop, mirroring her own.

They both knew what that meant - another mission. Another mission. Dougie let out a quiet sigh, leaning forward to rest his forehead against her own.

"I can stay the night, y'know. If it'd make you feel better." he whispered. They were walking a very thin line.

"Please do."

[winniemaywebber]

Honeysuckle Rose • Part 7

part one part two part three part four part five part six

masterlist olive's playlist ao3

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @derry-rain @bobparkhurst @bloodynereid @archival-hogwash

A misunderstanding may lead to the end of two relationships, one blossoming, the other solidified. The girls take comfort in one thing: the knowledge that they have each other.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Olive shrieks as she collapses on her bed, her face a blotchy mess of tears and snot. 

“Jesus, was it that bad?” Val teases, applying cold cream on her face.

“We know you prefer Dougie, but come on, Ol. Be fair,” Helen joins in, before seeing Olive’s face and realizing that now is not the time for jokes. Olive begins to explain, her two friends looking on in concern.

“Benny and I agreed to be just friends,” she whimpers, taking a handkerchief from Helen’s fingers and dabbing her face. “We embraced. It was just friendly, and we just talked. He knows how I feel about Dougie and how Dougie feels–felt for me.” She sniffles again, Helen’s bright eyes widening as Olive carries on with the explanation, Val crouching in front of her and taking her hand as Olive softly sobs.

 “S-sorry,” she stutters. “I’m trying to be tough but I’m so–”

“Enough of that, Olive. You don’t need to be tough with us. We’re your family. We wanna see it all,” Helen soothes.

“Okay,” she breathes, trying to calm herself down. “Anyway, Dougie must’ve followed us and saw us hug because…” Another sob catches in her throat, new tears falling down her face and causing her perfectly applied mascara to begin running down her cheeks, black trails to form upon them. “He’s so…” she gestures with her hands, trying to pick the right word from her overloaded brain. “Angry.”

“Oh, honey,” Val breathes out, stroking Olive’s hand. “Hey, don’t let it worry you. He was probably just drunk and not thinking straight, hm?” Olive nods, in unison with Helen, causing the bed to shake and squeak slightly. “He’ll be fine by the morning. He’ll see you in that truck, making him a coffee and he’ll forget he was ever angry the second he sees your pretty smile, mkay?”

“Okay,” she whimpers, smiling wanely at her friends. “How was your little tryst in the Mess Hall, Miss DiRosano? Good for you, by the way.”

“What tryst?” She replies, brow furrowed in confusion. Helen gives Val the side eye, her smile making her cheeks turn pink.

“We saw you and Ev make a beeline for the mess hall when the siren went off, and–”

“I was hungry,” she blushes, smiling at herself in the small mirror.

“Oooohhh!” The girls squeal at the same time, begging for more details as they giggle like schoolgirls.

“Anything more than the cockpit incident?” Helen asks, her face turning a different shade of red than Val’s.

“Cockpit incident?” Olive gasps, waiting for one of them to include her in the story.

“I’ll tell you later, doll. Much too late for all that now. I'll just tell you that a table is far more comfortable than the cockpit of a plane.” 

Val walks up to Olive, jar of cold cream in hand and crouches in front of her once again. “Close your eyes, girlie. Time to get ready for bed.” 

Olive feels Helen begin to unpin her hair, brushing it with her fingers as she makes it loose. “Thanks, girls. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you'll never have to know,” Helen soothes, pulling the final pin out of her hair. “You’re stuck with us.”

— 

“Morning, ladies,” Ev greets, his eyes sparkling with excitement as Val rushes to greet him with a chaste kiss. 

“Hey, Blakely,” Olive greets, placing two cups down in front of him. “That one’s yours,” she gestures, pointing to the one on the right. “The other is for Dougie.”

“I don’t think coffee is gonna make it up to him, Olive,” he says, the furrow in his brow rivaling his girlfriend’s. “He’s really upset.”

“If he’d just listen to me,” she urges, head pounding with the lack of sleep and dehydration from the sporadic tears that keep sprouting out of her eyes. “If you could get him to see reason, I’d be–”

“Oh, I’m staying out of it,” he responds, taking the cup on the right. “None of my business if he wants to forgive you or not.”

“I didn’t do anything!” She feels herself getting hot, the anger soaring through her veins.

“Honey,” Val coos, patting his shoulder. “She didn’t do anything wrong. They were just talking about being–”

“Of course you’d believe her. She’s your friend,” he turns from her and back to Olive. “You led my friend on and I’m not okay with that.”

“Ev, darling,” Val urges, following him as he begins to depart. “She’s telling the truth…” The conversation trails off as they get further away, Olive turning towards whoever is next at the window. 

—

As evening draws near, the girls, including Tattie, clean up the truck and the surrounding areas, ready for tomorrow. Another grounded, non-mission day didn’t change how busy they’d be - the boys would be milling between them, the hardstands and the briefing rooms all day, stopping for the occasional donut or pack of cigarettes. It’s when they’re closing the door of the truck that Dougie walks past, head down and eyes looking sunken from lack of sleep. Olive, not missing a beat, rushes towards him.

“Dougie? Can we please talk?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” he says as he keeps walking, brushing her off. “Save it for Benny.”

“I'd like to exp–”

“No need. I thought we were…” He sighs, a harsh breath pushing through his nostrils as he stops. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Find time, James. Nothing is going on between Benny and I. We are just friends!”

“That’s not what it looked like last night,” he sighs, his shoulders drooping as he sees Olive’s eyes grow misty at his tone.

“If you’d just listen to me for one damn minute,” she urges, trying to hold back the tears. It makes her voice squeak, the effort of keeping it in causing her chest to tighten, her neck straining with it all, too.

“No,” he says simply, and walks away. 

Olive trudges back to her friends, letting the tears flow freely. 

“Oh, darling,” Tattie consoles. “He’s not worth it.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her hip flask, making sure Chick isn’t around to see. “Here,” she says, opening the lid and handing it to her. “Take a little drink. It’ll calm your nerves.” Olive does as she's told, hoping the burn of the alcohol will somehow soften some of the pain. She opens her eyes to Tattie lighting two cigarettes, handing one to Olive as she stops wincing at the taste of the whiskey. 

“Now,” she says, her eyes softening. “Coming to the club?”

Olive shakes her head, leaning against the truck and taking a deep drag of the cigarette. “No. Just going to bed,” she fibs, intent on heading to Pearl’s once the sun sets.

“Well, let us know. You know we’re gonna look after you.”

“Yeah,” she replies weakly, feeling Meatball sniff at her ankles in greeting.

“Hey, Ol!” Benny greets cheerfully, walking up to her.  He sees her tear stained face and stops at the sight of it, his eyes darting around the space, seemingly ready to confront whoever has got his friend in this state.

“What’s all this? Who’s upset you?” He looks accusingly at Tattie, his eyes trying to find either of the other girls.

“Oh, no. Not them, Benny.” She laughs at the thought, knowing those are the people who would never do her wrong.

 “Your anger is misplaced, doll,” Tattie laughs, patting Olive on the shoulder as she locks the door of the truck.

“Then who? Dougie?”

“Y-yeah,” she sniffs, tears dropping on to the end of the cigarette and extinguishing it, causing Olive to groan in exasperation. “He saw us hug last night and thinks I chose you.”

“Did you tell him what we were talking about?”

“Tried. He won’t listen. Doesn’t want to,” she says, dropping the cigarette on the floor and stomping on it in a rage.

“I can try talking to him?”

“Oh, yeah, Benny, I'm sure that would go down a treat.” She rolls her eyes, instantly regretting it, sighing at her own tone.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help, Ol.”

“I know, I know, darling. I’m just–I’m sorry, okay?”

“No need. You need me to walk you back?”

“No thanks, Ben. Just need some time alone, then going to bed. I’ll see you later though, yeah?”

“Of course. Get the girls to let me know if you need anything, okay?” Olive nods, reaching to hug him. 

“Thanks, Benny. You’re a good egg.”

“I know. Now, where’s that smile?” 

She remains stone faced, until he gently pokes at her face where he knows her dimple usually sits. It tickles, making her grin automatically. 

“There we go. Come on, Meatball. Bye, Ol!”

— 

Once the girls have made their way to the club, Olive sneaks out of the hut. Bag in hand to be able to bring more belongings from Pearl’s, she makes her way to the hardstand just as the sun is setting, the sky a beautiful shade of burnt orange. The moment she feels the warmth upon her face, the sadness slip away for just a moment. She turns her head towards it, putting her face right in the center of the sun’s rays. Looking around, she spots Kenny who is deep in patching flak holes, but senses her staring at him. He raises a hand, waving and then nodding towards the door of Just A-Snappin. He has left stairs underneath the open door for her. She places a hand on her heart, suddenly emotional all over again. 

“Can I see a new dollar?” He yells across the hardstand.

“They look the same, Kenny. I'm sorry, fella.”

“Well, heck. Guess a beer tomorrow night will have to do then. See ya in a minute.”

“Yeah, start counting, Lemmons. I'm curious.”

Clambering up the stairs and pulling the door shut, Olive finds herself breathing heavily in a panic, hoping once again that this isn't goodbye.

—

Olive swings open the gate to Pearl’s as quick as she can, knowing that just being in her presence will soothe any pain. She opens the door to the buzz of the television playing Pearl’s favorite daytime hospital drama, Joan pottering in the kitchen and clearing up lunch.

“Hey, Pearly Girly. Nice lie in?”

“Lovely, thank you, my girl. Thanks for telling Joan to not drag me out of bed.”

“I told her you probably needed it after yesterday,” she giggles, the misery headache going away almost immediately. “Is she bringing you biscuits again?”

“Yes!” She says, her voice going up an octave with the joy of the remark. “I must have been nice to her today.”

Right on cue, Joan enters, carrying a tray with two cups, all the fixings for tea and the teapot. 

“For you both,” she says, pulling a tea towel off a small plate to reveal two chocolate eclairs, Pearl’s favorite. 

“I’d say you’re back in her good books, Grandma,” she says, taking a bite right from the pastry without grabbing a plate. “Thanks, Joan,” she swallows, smiling at her.

“I’m off. John’s funeral is this afternoon, and–”

“Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me?” Olive urges, suddenly embarrassed that Joan was at work on a day like today. She holds a hand up, stopping her and shakes her head.

“Being here takes my mind off it. I wanted to be here today. I wanted you to be able to go to work, too. I don’t want you stopping your life for even a short time for a little old lady like me.”

“But it’s your husband’s funeral, woman!” 

She breathes out, her hand on her heart. “It’s not really goodbye. It’s just a confirmation he won’t be coming back, but I know I’ll see him again. I said my farewells at the hospital. This is for everyone else that didn’t.” She picks up her bag, patting Pearl on the shoulder as she starts to leave. “See you tomorrow, friend.”

“Joan,” she says, wiping her mouth quickly. “Thanks for coming over today.

“Never a chore when it’s you, pal.”

— 

Pulling on an old pair of leggings and an oversized shirt, Olive feels comfortable for the first time in days. Despite the jumpsuit making her look good, it wasn't necessarily comfortable and she felt her whole body relax as the softer material touches her skin. After filling her bag with a few more makeup products, moisturizer, losing count of the amount of underwear she shoves in the discreet pocket of the bag, she exits the room to hurry into the kitchen, intent on preparing dinner.

“What d'ya want for dinner, Grandma?” She pauses for a second, considering the options.

“Beans on toast?”

“Oh, lovely. Exactly what I need,” Olive declares, turning to go back into the kitchen.

“Hold on a minute, Ollie Pop,” she says, startling Olive a little.

“What's up, Pearl?”

“You look like shit.”

“Oh, thanks!”

 “Not sleeping well?”

“I'm fine, Grandma. Just still adjusting to all this.” It was true. Journeying from here to her friends was starting to become physically exhausting, not getting a full night's sleep, afraid she'd be missing from either place if she was gone for too long.

“You need your rest, Olive!”

“I'm grand, promise. It's only been a month.” 

“Hmm,” Pearl replies, her eyes squinting at her. “If you say so.”

“I do say so. I'll let you know if I need some time off, but right now, I'm doing just fine. Now,” she says, taking a deep breath to try and waylay the tears pricking at her eyes. “Hungry?”

—

Giving up on rest after tossing and turning for hours, resigning to catching a few hours once she's back at the hut later, Olive begins to write a new analysis of her favorite scene from Romeo and Juliet. This being the only thing she can focus on in the silent, wee hours, she scribbles out three back to back pages, her penmanship all over the place, twinning her erratic thoughts on the piece. With it, she attaches a letter:

Jules,

Let me know if I've still got it in me to study our favorite man; it's been a long time. I wrote this in a restless rush, dying to get the words out of my brain and onto the paper after a night of little sleep.

I don't know how much Brady has told you, so I will give you a quick synopsis: Dougie and Benny both made it clear they had feelings for me weeks ago, and I felt quite stuck in the middle, my friend. Benny, however, came to the realization that he saw me as a friend and told me so last night as he walked me home. Can you believe who saw the whole thing happen, both of us wrapped in what I saw as a platonic, friendly embrace to mark the start of a lasting friendship? Dougie has gone absolutely ballistic and I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I have tried to reason with him, but he will not listen, nor can anyone make him. What would you do, my dear? Leave it alone? Keep at it? 

My brain is full of so many foggy thoughts that the only thing that settled them was writing this for you. I do hope we can be friends, Jules. You sound like my kind of person.

Hope to hear from you soon, 

Your friend, 

Olive. 

—

After Joan arrives, the two exchange pleasantries before Olive leaves, now back in the jumpsuit she's washed and ironed. 

“You look lovely, kid,” she says, removing her jacket and hanging it beside the door. Olive is surprised to see Joan back in her usual attire. Today, she has chosen baggy purple pants, a tie dye t-shirt and a pink ribbon in her hair. She looks wonderful, much more her usual self. 

“Oh, Joan!” she says excitedly at the sight of her. “Look at you! There she is! This is wonderful to see.” The pair smile at one another, before Olive grabs her bag, practically making a run for it out the door and down the lane.

Hopping the gate as she reaches the museum, the outline of Just A-Snappin is in sight through the early morning mist. 

Chucking her bag into the plane with a quick glance around, she hurls herself into the aircraft, slamming the door shut behind her. Within seconds, the door is open again, the sweet smell of honeysuckle filling her nostrils as she breathes in and out slowly. Without thinking, a single word leaves her lips: “Home.”

—

She catches Brady as she makes the walk from the plane to the hut, packing his pipe outside of his own barracks. 

“Can't sleep?” She says as she walks up to him, her head titled slightly as she asks.

“No,” he replies, placing the lit pipe in his mouth and puffing out the first stream of smoke through his nostrils. “I was thinking about Jules. That does it for me. It's either I lay in bed and feel myself almost begin to weep, or I come out here and pretend we're watching a sunrise together. It helps a little.”

“Oh, speaking of the sweet lady,” Olive says, rummaging in her bag. She pulls out the pages she has bound together with a red ribbon and hands them to him. “I wrote her this.” 

“Jeez,” he says, sucking air through his teeth, surveying the weight of the pad of paper she's just handed him. “You write her a novel?”

“No. Just a six page analysis of the balcony scene.” He laughs, eyes squeezed shut, them crinkling at the ends.

“She'll love this, Olive. Truly. I think her having a pen pal will really make her happy, too.”

“I feel the same. I can't wait to get to know her. I'm sure she'll love having someone to keep an eye on you, too.”

“Hey,” he protests. “What for?”

“While you write to her about being a tough guy, I'll be able to give her the real truth. Making sure you're eating, sleeping, whatever. Here, I'll start.” She clears her throat, pretending to scrawl on her hand.

“Dear Jules. Caught your fella outside at sunrise. Don’t believe what he's saying, the man never sleeps and smokes like a chimney.” 

He laughs through his nose, shaking his head. “I have a feeling she'll love you.”

“And I'll love her right back.”

—

A week passes, completing a day of work with the girls then rushing back to Pearl the same night. It was beginning to become hard to keep up with, the lack of sleep driving her into rages she hadn't experienced since the drama school days when the unbridled stress of performances would cause breakdowns.

The girls were becoming concerned and increasingly unsettled by it all, not to mention them not seeing her outside of work for days on end.

“Olive,” Helen urges one day, while Olive is furiously scrubbing a counter for the third time that hour. “Stop it. Talk to me.”

“I'm fine, Helen,” she replies, scrubbing so hard that they both hear her shoulder click. Helen takes the cloth from her hand, her hands now on her friend's face as she collapses into her. 

“Hey,” she assuages, her voice low. Her arms wrap around her as she sobs, her breath ragged as her chest heaves. “Darling, you can't keep doing this. Please talk to us.”

“There's nothing to say. Everything and nothing, all at once. I really fucked up, Helen.”

“No, no, you didn't. You can't blame yourself for what James assumes he saw that night. It wasn't your fault, Ol. It's unfair to make yourself feel this way.”

“I miss him, Helen.”

“I know, doll. I'll try talk to him again.”

“What? You've tried already?”

“While you've been absent from the club, I've been trying to soften him up. He's coming around; I don't think he wants to admit he's wrong and that he's upset you. He's stubborn,” she says, rubbing Olive’s back.

“Don't I know it,” she sniffs, wiping her eyes with her hand. “I'll come out tonight. I think I need it.” 

“Good!” 

Val enters the Clubmobile, face pinched and the furrow harsher than ever. “Not you too!” Helen protests, shaking her head. 

“What?” she replies, an edge to her tone. “Ev is taking Dougie’s side, I'm obviously taking Olive’s and it's like we're talking in fucking circles.”

“I'm sorry, Val,” Olive whimpers from across the truck, her fists clenched with the stress of the situation. “I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry you and Ev are fighting because of me.”

She shakes her head, flipping open a magazine she had left on the counter earlier. “We're not fighting because of you, doll. We're fighting because of Douglass.”

“Val…” Olive begins to protest, her face beginning to pinch.

“No. It's not your fault. You're allowed to be friends with Benny. I'm friends with Curt while dating Ev. It's the same damn thing,” she snaps, flipping a page with such force it almost causes the magazine to rip. “That make sense to you?” she yells over her shoulder. The two girls nod, wide eyed at her tone. “Everett?” She shouts again, not looking up from her magazine. He comes around the corner, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Makes sense, Val,” he sighs, turning and skulking away slowly.

—

“Hi, girlies!” Val greets as she sees her two friends walk up to her outside the club. “Beautiful as ever, you two.” She stubs out a cigarette against the wall, moving to stand in front of Olive as James exits the club.

“Douglass.”

“Valencia. Ev's waiting for you inside,” he gestures behind him, apparently intent on making his way back to barracks. Val feels Olive’s ragged, nervous breath on the back of her neck as she tries to make eye contact with Dougie, her eyes glazing over and pleading with him wordlessly. 

“You look lousy, Ol,” Tattie says as she approaches the group that's congregated around the entrance. “Still not sleeping?” Olive shakes her head silently in response, nervously chewing at her bottom lip. 

“I'm sure Benny would give you some place to sleep, Olive, if he hasn't already,” James spits out, his face falling the second the words leave his mouth, instantly regretful as everyone sees Olive’s face crumple, letting out a whimper that turns into a sob. Right on cue, Everett exits the club to find what's keeping Val and hears what his friend has just said. 

“Dougie, Jesus Christ!” he shouts, shocked. 

What happens next all happens in some sort of slow motion. Valencia walks up to Dougie with her elbow launched back , her hand balled up into a tight fist with Tattie rushing up to her, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her away from him. 

“Val, no, no!” Tattie calmly urges, dragging Val away as she screeches at him, the shouts becoming almost guttural as her throat gives out. 

“You do not speak to her that way! You don't say things like that to my friend. How dare you, James Douglass! Look at the fucking state of her!” Everyone's mouth agape, they silently turn to Olive who is wrapped up in Helen’s arms. Helen's chin is on Olive's head as she strokes her hair and shushes her through all the ruckus as she sobs messily on her.  

“Olive,” James starts, his voice cracking.

“No!” Helen shouts, holding a hand up to his face. “You don't get to talk to her until everyone has calmed down.” Tattie looks at her in surprise, eyes agog that she's the one taking control of the situation. “Now,” she sighs, Olive feeling both of their heart rates come down to almost normal. “Can we please get a drink?”

Dougie begins to enter the club when Ev puts his fingers on Dougie’s chest to stop him from moving further. “Nope. You're gonna talk to her. You're gonna listen. You're not gonna be an asshole.”

“But I don't–” 

“I don't care. We were wrong,” he pauses, breath shaky. “I miss my Val. All we've done all week is bicker and defend you two and I don't want to go up in a few days knowing that the last damn thing I said to her could have been poisonous. Get it together, Doug.” He turns to Olive, hugging her for a second. 

“I misjudged you. I'm sorry.” 

“Go in there and get your girl, please,” she sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “She's been pissed.” 

“Believe me, I know. I've seen it.”

“She's scary, isn't she?” 

“Yep. And I love it.” 

—

“Come on,” Dougie murmurs as he grabs her hand and pulls her into the empty mess hall. She leans against a table, her arms crossed and tries her best to not make eye contact with him. 

“Hey,” he urges gently, walking up to her and tries to put his arms around her. “Talk to me.”

“Oh, now you're interested in talking to me? You're suddenly ready to hear what I've got to say? Give me a break, James,” she responds, pushing his hands away from her. That contact alone sends a hot flash through her body, wanting nothing more than for him to touch her.

“Ol, I'm sorry, I–”

“You just assumed what you saw and didn't bother to check, to listen or fucking hear me out. I'm really upset with you.”

“I know, honey, I'm–”

“Nuh-uh. You don't get to be sweet to me after all that; the absolute hell you've put me through this past week. It's been horrible, James.” 

“It's been awful for me, too,” he replies, almost whimpering, blinking rapidly as he takes a spot next to her, lighting a cigarette. “Tell me what happened.”

“Ugh, fine,” she relents, uncrossing her arms and placing her hands on the table to keep balance. Even him near her is enough to make her weak at the knees, his sweet cologne making its way through her nose.

“Benny walked me home, said he wanted to talk to me about something. Said he knew when to bow out because he saw how you looked at me, and how I looked at you. We agreed to be friends, and we hugged goodnight. That's it.” 

“Ah, fuck,” he winces. “I really got it wrong, didn't I?”

“Yeah, you bloody did. Did you not think to ask someone? Even if you didn't want to talk to me right then, you could've asked Helen or Tattie. Val was telling the truth.”

“I know. I just felt stupid and I'm…” he struggles to find the words, his eyes fixed to the floor.

“Fucking stubborn, is what you are, James.” She sighs, finally lifting her head up to face him. “Think about it. Have you seen me with Benny since?”

“No,” he shrugs, handing her the half smoked cigarette. She takes it, shakily taking a drag as they share a moment of silence. He breaks it first, clearing his throat.

“Jesus, I've missed you, Olive.”

“I've missed you, too, James. But all this,” she gestures, the cigarette extinguishing as she stubs it in an ashtray, “has been fucking ridiculous.”

“I feel like a damn idiot.”

“As you should.”

“I'm sorry, Ol.” 

“Thank you,” she breathes, their eyes meeting. She feels that familiar, delicious pit in her stomach as he looks at her, her toes almost curling at the sensation of warmth washing over her. 

“So, you chose me, huh?”

“I did,” she smiles, beginning to walk away. He grabs her hand, pulling her back. 

“I really, really missed you.”

“Me, too,” she sighs, their faces coming closer together. Dougie traces his fingers over the line of her jaw before gently grabbing her chin to pull her even closer to him. 

“Please kiss me, James,” she gasps, feeling the pad of his thumb swipe her bottom lip softly. She takes a sharp intake of breath as she places her arms around his neck, her hands toying with his curls. “I might die if you don't kiss me soon.”

“Well, we can't have that, can we?” His thumb gently stroking her cheek, their lips touch sweetly, before his mouth opens on hers, her lips parting as he does so. It's clumsy, the two of them gasping for air each time they begrudgingly break apart, not wanting the moment to end. She clings to him as she perches on one of the mess tables, his hands gripping her waist in such a way that she finds herself moaning into him as he squeezes her. His tongue slips into her mouth, them both groaning quietly, barely able to catch their breath, kissing one another with the hunger of a starved man. His hands are caressing their way up her body when they hear a bang on the window pane.

Helen and Val knock loudly, their faces a picture of giddiness and relief. Helen, blushing, jokingly salutes Dougie before falling over laughing while Val shouts something incoherent through the glass before running into the club again. 

“I've wanted to do that for a really long time,” he sighs, kissing her softly on the mouth, over and over again.

“I have, too,” she purrs, nuzzling herself into his neck and planting a gentle kiss upon the skin she can reach. 

“Look at me,” he says, his voice low. “I really am sorry. Knowing I made you that upset breaks my heart.”

“I forgive you,” she replies, seeing his body relax with the relief her statement brings. “Just stop assuming things. We can talk about anything and I won't lie to you. Okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles. 

“Now, please. Kiss me again.”

He doesn't hesitate, not for a second, his mouth on hers before she's even finished asking. It's in this moment that she knows she's where she belongs.

[bcolfanfic]

would love to hear more about helen’s abusive relationship you’ve said she was in before ev in young vets au? the way you’ve built her up in this au she seems so darling and sweet, breaks my heart that someone was unkind to her 💔😔

oh helen <\3 sweet sweet girl. in my head the guy (that rachel and i never named lmfao he’s been ‘fuckface’ exclusively) was someone she knew growing up that was just kinda lingering around waiting for her to be available.

though he doesn’t actually show up materially until post-Afghanistan war when ev is in west virginia and starts to befriend her. the town they’re in is prettyyyy small so he hears through the grape vine that some solider from nash’s unit has seemed to be hanging around a lot.

and helen likes ev, but for a lot of nash and other related reasons she’s a nervous nelly when it comes to actually letting him pursue her. which is what leaves the door open for fuckface to come in as someone that’s able to ‘get in’ more easily since he has 0 tie to her dead husband/dead father of her little boy.

he more or less immediately doesn’t want ev around. and it’s is a mess bc little wyatt loved ev coming around and is always asking helen for him when he suddenly stops seeing him. which pisses immature little fuckface off, which he takes out on helen. he’s viscous about ev to her, talking about how it’s pathetic someone that knew nash like him would be going after her etc etc. gets inside her head bc that’s what abusers do.

and ev never stops worrying about her when he’s suddenly iced out <\3 doesn’t give up on texting periodically even when she’s vague and doesn’t give him straight answers on anything. eventually it gets to a point that jean gets so worried about things helen is saying that she tells croz about it and that’s what pushes ev over the edge of trying to tiptoe with shit. finds out she told jeanie that fuckface snapped at wyatt and the thought of both her and that little boy being in harms way makes him sick.

of course people leaving abusers is never as easy as we hope it will be. it’s a long shitty ordeal with a lot of backsliding. but that’s his favorite girl. nash was his buddy. feels an obligation to make sure her and wyatt are alright even separate from his own love feelings for her. feels like he can breathe again when he moves her and wyatt into his house on base and knows they’re both safe.